Chapter 292 - 75: The Kneel of Warsaw

Chapter 292: Chapter 75: The Kneel of Warsaw

Werner took the coffee. "What you need, what I need... let’s lay it all on the table."

Maciej smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I like your direct style. Alright, I’ll start with what we need."

He took out a cigarette and lit it. "Poland currently owes Western banks a billion US dollars, and the interest alone is over a hundred million a year. We have to export goods to earn foreign currency, but our industrial products have absolutely no competitive edge in Western markets. The only way is through transit trade."

"You mean using Poland as a hub to launder the goods," Werner said.

"Exactly." Maciej exhaled a puff of smoke. "High-tech equipment from West Germany is shipped to Gdansk. We do some simple processing in our Polish factories—even if it’s just changing the casing or slapping on a new label—and then we sell it to you in East Germany as a Polish product."

Werner nodded. "But how do you explain the West German core components inside these ’Polish’ products?"

"Certificates of origin can be fudged," Maciej said casually. "In Gdansk, we have our own customs and inspection agencies. As long as the paperwork is in order, no one will dig too deep. Besides..." He lowered his voice. "Poland is so poor right now, the Western banks are desperate for us to do more business and pay back our debts. They won’t make trouble for us over a few technical parts."

Werner took out his cigarette case and offered one to Maciej. "So what do I get out of it?"

"Everything restricted by the Baltic Union." Maciej took the cigarette. "Five-axis CNC machine tools, high-precision optical instruments, special alloy materials, integrated circuits—everything you in East Germany dream of but can’t buy, we can get for you."

Werner took a drag from his cigarette. "And the method of payment?"

Maciej leaned forward. "On the official books, you’ll pay in transferable Rubles. That way, the audits from the Economic Mutual Aid Committee will be clean, and Moscow won’t be able to find any fault."

"But in reality?"

"In reality, we need West German Marks," Maciej said bluntly. "A fifteen percent commission on every transaction, deposited directly into our account in Zurich."

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "How would the accounting work?"

"Simple." Maciej took out a document. "Let’s say a West German machine tool has a market price of five hundred thousand Marks. We buy it in West Germany and ship it to Gdansk. Then, in a Polish factory, we perform some ’localization modifications’—change the casing, apply a Polish label, alter the nameplate."

"And then?"

"Then we sell it to you in East Germany as a domestically produced Polish machine tool, with a quoted price of 1.5 million transferable Rubles." Maciej flicked the ash from his cigarette. "The East German Ministry of Finance pays us 1.5 million Rubles through the normal settlement channels of the Economic Mutual Aid Committee. On paper, it’s completely compliant."

Werner nodded. "But what can you do with Rubles? You can’t use Rubles to pay off Western debts."

"That’s the key part." Maciej smiled. "We take those Rubles and use them to buy oil, natural gas, and non-ferrous metals from the Soviet Union—commodities that have hard currency value on the international market. Then we sell those commodities to Western Europe in exchange for Marks or US Dollars."

Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke. "One transaction, two instances of arbitrage."

"Exactly," Maciej said. "And the fifteen percent commission in Marks provided by East Germany, in effect, fronts our cost for buying the goods. We save on foreign currency, you get the technological equipment East Germany desperately needs, and everybody wins."

"One more question," Werner said. "Regarding the trade between Poland and West Germany, won’t West German customs be watching very closely?"

"They won’t." Maciej shook his head. "After the treaty was signed, West Germany is eager to do more business with Poland. Besides, we can ship the goods in batches, broken down into parts, and then assemble them in Poland. Customs will only see imported parts; they won’t know what they’re ultimately assembled into."

Werner nodded. "I have one more condition."

"Speak."

"I want to establish a dedicated warehouse in Gdansk Port," Werner said. "Once the goods are shipped to Poland, my people need to be able to supervise them directly."

Maciej thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I’ll have the port authority approve a bonded warehouse for you, which you can manage yourself. How does a rent of ten thousand Marks a year sound?"

"Deal." Werner extended his hand.

Maciej took his hand and shook it firmly. "A pleasure doing business with you, Comrade Betelich."

"One more thing." Werner released his hand and took out a cigarette. "This route can’t just be a one-way street."

Maciej raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, not only can we move goods from West Germany to East Germany, but we can also do it in reverse," Werner said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "The Two Germanys have an internal trade agreement. Goods from East Germany can enter West Germany tariff-free."

Maciej’s eyes lit up. "You want to..."

"I want to ship raw materials from Poland or the Soviet Union to East Germany, label them as East German products, and then use the internal trade agreement to sell them to West Germany tax-free," Werner said. "It’s a legal tax loophole. West German customs won’t be able to detect it. Our profit will be the tariffs we save."

Maciej was silent for a few seconds, then laughed. "Comrade Werner, now I understand why they call you the King of the Black Market."

"This isn’t the Black Market, it’s a gray area," Werner corrected him. "It’s completely legal, just exploiting a loophole in the system."

"I like these kinds of loopholes." Maciej stood up and walked to the window. "If this route gets up and running, we stand to make more than just that fifteen percent commission."

"Exactly." Werner also stood and walked to his side. "That’s why we need to make this route rock-solid. There can be no mistakes."

Maciej turned and looked at Werner. "How much do you plan on investing in this route?"

"The first year, at least ten million Marks," Werner said. "If it runs smoothly, we can double it the second year."

Maciej sucked in a sharp breath. "Ten million Marks... Comrade Werner, you’re planning to turn Poland into your own private transit station."

"If you can guarantee quality and security, then why not?" Werner smiled. "Poland needs foreign currency, and I need a channel. It’s a win-win."

**************

「December 5, 1970. Gdansk Port.」

Werner stood on Pier 2, gazing out at the gray surface of the Baltic Sea.

The sea breeze blew against his face, cold and briny. A few cargo ships were docked in the distance, cranes were lifting containers, and workers bustled about on the docks.

"This is your warehouse." Jan pointed to a gray building by the edge of the dock. "Five hundred square meters, with its own loading platform and round-the-clock guards."

Werner walked into the warehouse and surveyed the space. Concrete floors, a high ceiling, and a few rows of empty shelves lined the walls.

"This will do," Werner nodded. "My men will be here to get set up starting tomorrow."

Jan took out a document. "This is the warehouse lease, a one-year term. The rent is ten thousand West German Marks."

Werner took the document, glanced over it, and signed his name.

"When does the first shipment arrive?"

"Next week," Jan said. "The West German side has already shipped it. Two CNC machine tools, nominally ordered by a Polish machinery plant. Once the shipment arrives in Gdansk, we’ll stick a Polish factory logo on the machine casings, change the nameplates, and then ship them directly to you."

Werner nodded, watching the busy workers on the docks.

’He knew that once this route was up and running, it would be used for more than just machine tools. Electronic components, special materials, precision instruments—anything restricted by the Baltic Union could be laundered through Poland.’

’And he, Werner Betelich, would become East Germany’s most important "technology broker." This wasn’t just about money; it was about power and influence. By controlling the source of key technologies desperately needed by East German industry, his position within Koko would become more secure, and his value to the Stasi would be even greater.’

***********

「Afternoon of December 7, 1970. In front of the Warsaw Ghetto Memorial.」

Werner stood at the back of the crowd, looking at the tall monument in the center of the square.

Carved on the monument was a scene from the ghetto uprising—emaciated figures, clenched fists, and desperate eyes.

Brandt’s motorcade arrived.

The West German Chancellor stepped out of a black sedan, wearing a dark overcoat, his expression solemn.

He stopped before the monument, observed a moment of silence, and then slowly knelt down.

The entire square fell silent.