Chapter 330 - 113: The Soviet Union’s Olive Branch

Chapter 330: Chapter 113: The Soviet Union’s Olive Branch

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.

"What’s the situation?" Von Brown’s voice was cold.

Werner repeated what Hans had told him, adding at the end, "I suspect a Western intelligence agency has been monitoring this money. They might have known about this money’s background from the very beginning."

"You mean we’re exposed?"

"Not us," Werner stressed. "It’s that Liberian company. It was already on their watchlist. Comrade Colonel, all my operations were conducted with strict confidentiality, without any mistakes. But the West’s counter-terrorism agencies are too powerful. They have the entire international banking system cooperating with them."

"What about Samir?" Von Brown asked.

"I’ll go explain it to him," Werner said. "But honestly, the risks for this mission were high from the start. I warned you from the beginning—the Swiss Bank is a tough nut to crack."

"...I understand." Von Brown’s voice sounded weary. "You did your best."

After hanging up, Werner leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath.

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

That evening, Werner met Samir at a cafe.

Von Brown wasn’t there this time. It was just the two of them.

Samir’s expression was ugly, his eyes simmering with suppressed rage.

"I heard," he said, cutting right to the chase. "Three million US Dollars, gone just like that?"

"Frozen by the Swiss Police." Werner spread his hands. "Mr. Samir, all my procedures were executed perfectly. The problem is that your Liberian company was already on Interpol’s radar."

"Are you saying it’s my fault?" Samir’s voice was frigid.

"I didn’t say that." Werner looked at him calmly. "I’m saying this money was a hot potato to begin with. Western intelligence agencies aren’t fools; they know what this money is for. Did you think they wouldn’t be able to trace it just because you changed accounts and company names a few times?"

Samir didn’t speak.

Werner continued, "I took a huge risk handling this money for you. If the Swiss Police hadn’t suddenly intervened, the money would have been in your account three days ago."

"So what now?" Samir asked. "Can we get the money back?"

"Impossible." Werner shook his head. "Now that the Swiss Police have made their move, they won’t back down. The money will eventually be confiscated and go into their counter-terrorism fund."

Samir’s fists clenched.

"Mr. Samir," Werner lowered his voice. "I understand your anger. But you need to understand that we are up against the entire Western intelligence apparatus. This failure isn’t because we weren’t careful enough, but because our opponents are too strong."

Samir stared at him for a long time.

Finally, he stood up. "I will report the situation to my superiors."

"Be my guest." Werner stood up as well. "If there’s another opportunity to cooperate in the future, feel free to contact me. But next time—" He paused. "—please choose a cleaner account."

Samir let out a cold laugh and turned to leave.

Werner watched his back disappear into the night, then silently lit a cigarette.

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

「Late November」

Werner received a letter from Werner in Munich.

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper with one typewritten line:

"Transaction complete. Client is very satisfied. The balance has been deposited into your old account in Zurich. —W"

Werner burned the slip of paper, then called his private bank in Zurich.

The bank manager told him that an extra one hundred fifty thousand US Dollars had appeared in his account.

"Under what name was it transferred?" Werner asked.

"Consulting fees," the manager said. "A commercial consulting fee paid by a West Germany company."

Werner smiled.

One hundred fifty thousand US Dollars—this was his payment from the BND, and also a silent promise.

He had successfully turned a deadly deal into a counter-terrorism operation, not only clearing his biggest stain but also earning moral capital with the West German intelligence agency.

If he needed protection in the future, the BND would remember this.

And Von Brown and Samir? They would only think that the Western intelligence agencies were too formidable, and that it had nothing to do with Werner.

A perfect double-cross.

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

「One evening in early December」

Werner and Anna were eating in their secret apartment.

Anna had made potato soup and black bread—a simple East German home-style meal, but Werner ate it with gusto.

"I heard the matter with the money was resolved?" Anna asked.

"Mhm." Werner took a sip of soup. "The Swiss Police confiscated it. It went into their counter-terrorism fund."

"Samir doesn’t suspect you?"

"No." Werner smiled. "He’ll just think the Western intelligence agencies are too powerful and that I did my best."

Anna put down her spoon, fell silent for a moment, then looked up at him. "Werner, I have something to tell you."

Her tone was calm, but her eyes held a rare seriousness.

"What is it?"

"I’m pregnant," Anna said directly. "About two months along."

The spoon in Werner’s hand stopped in mid-air.

"Are you sure?"

"I had a check-up last week." Anna picked up her soup bowl and took a sip. "I’m sure."

Werner put down his spoon, leaned back in his chair, and lit a cigarette.

’He needed to process this news.’

’Pregnant. A child. A father.’

These words spun in his mind for a few turns before landing on a more practical question: "What do you plan to do?"

Anna looked at him without answering immediately.

"I’ve thought about it," she said. "This isn’t a good time for a child—our work, our situation, it’s not suitable for raising a child. But—" she paused, "—I still want to have it."

Werner looked at her, silent for a long time.

"You know what this means," he said slowly. "Having a child in East Germany, having a child in our circumstances."

"I know." Anna nodded. "That’s why I’m telling you instead of deciding on my own. This is about both of us."

Werner stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.

Anna watched him. "Do you want this child?"

Werner was silent.

’To be honest, he’d never thought about having children. Not before he transmigrated, and even less so after.’

’But now, with Anna asking him like this—’

"I do," he heard himself say.

Anna smiled, one of her rare, truly relaxed smiles.

"Then I’ll have it," she said. "As for the future—" She shrugged. "We’ve always been gambling anyway. What’s one more time?"

Werner smiled too.

He stood up, walked over to her, and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Then I’ll have to speed things up."

"Speed what up?"

"Get everything ready." Werner straightened up. "Asset transfers, network of contacts, escape routes. By the time the child is born, I want to make sure we have enough leverage to handle any situation."

Anna stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Let’s finish dinner first. The soup is getting cold."

Outside the window, the snow had started falling again.

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

「October in Moscow」

The weather was surprisingly cold.

Werner stood on a tree-lined path beside Lubyanka Square, gazing at the five-story yellow building across the way.

KGB Headquarters, the stuff of nightmares for all of Eastern Europe. Today, he was going to walk in as an invited guest.

"Werner, the car is here."

Von Brown’s voice came from behind him.

The Stasi colonel had accompanied him to Moscow, nominally as an escort, but in reality, to watch him.

The East German leadership was both expectant and nervous about this meeting—the Soviet "Big Brother" had suddenly requested a meeting with someone from Koko. Who knew if it was a blessing or a curse?

A black Volga sedan pulled up to the curb, and the driver got out to open the door for them.

Werner took a deep breath and walked over.

The car’s heater was on full blast, and the leather seats gave off a faint smell of mothballs.

Von Brown sat beside him, his expression grim. "Werner, remember, don’t say anything you shouldn’t. Just answer what the Soviet comrades ask. Don’t say more than you have to."

"I understand." Werner watched the buildings fly by outside the window. "What are you so nervous about? It’s not my first time meeting Soviets."

"This time is different," Von Brown whispered. "Andropov, First Deputy Chairman of the KGB, in charge of foreign intelligence. For a figure of his level to summon you personally... in all of East Germany, there are no more than five people who get that kind of treatment."

’Werner was well aware of the situation.’

’Yuri Andropov, the future General Secretary of the Soviet Union, was now at the peak of his power.’

’The man was shrewd and ruthless. In 1968, while serving as ambassador to Hungary, he was the one who championed the armed suppression of the Czech Republic’s reforms.’

’In Werner’s knowledge from his past life, Andropov would succeed Brezhnev as the supreme leader of the Soviet Union in 1982, only to die of illness a little over a year later.’

’Then came Chernenko’s brief transition, and finally Gorbachev’s rise to power, which marked the beginning of the Soviet Union’s collapse.’

’It was now 1979, twelve years before the dissolution of the Soviet Union.’

The car turned through a side gate, passed through several layers of sentry posts, and finally stopped in front of a small gray building. It was separated from the main building by a courtyard and looked more like a guest house.

"Comrade Werner Betelich?" A middle-aged man in a suit walked over, speaking fluent German. "I am Mikhail, Comrade Andropov’s secretary. Please come with me."

Von Brown tried to follow, but Mikhail politely stopped him. "I’m sorry, Comrade Colonel. Comrade Andropov has requested to see only Comrade Betelich. There is a lounge this way; we have prepared coffee and cake."

Von Brown’s expression changed, but here at KGB Headquarters, an East German Stasi colonel was a nobody.

He glanced at Werner and finally just nodded.

Werner followed Mikhail into the small building.

The staircase was narrow, and portraits of Lenin and Stalin hung on the walls. They went up to the third floor, where Mikhail knocked on an oak door.

"Come in," a deep voice rumbled from inside.