Chapter 331 - 114: The Soviet Union’s Olive Branch (Part 2)

Chapter 331: Chapter 114: The Soviet Union’s Olive Branch (Part 2)

The door opened, and Werner saw a man around sixty years old sitting behind a desk.

Yuri Andropov. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and a dark gray suit, his hair combed meticulously.

"Comrade Werner Betelich, I’ve heard so much about you." Andropov stood up and extended his hand.

"Comrade Andropov, it is an honor to meet you." Werner shook his hand, neither obsequious nor arrogant.

"Sit." Andropov gestured to the chair opposite him. "Mikhail, pour us some coffee. Then you may leave."

The secretary poured two cups of coffee, left silently, and closed the door.

They were alone.

Andropov took off his glasses and slowly wiped them with a handkerchief. "Comrade Werner, may I call you that?"

"Of course."

"Excellent." Andropov put his glasses back on. "I don’t like to beat around the bush, so I’ll be direct. The Koko system you established in East Germany has left a deep impression on us. In less than ten years, you’ve turned a bankrupt economy into a machine that can sustain itself. That’s no simple feat."

Werner picked up his coffee cup but didn’t drink, merely holding it for warmth. "You flatter me. Koko merely executes the Party’s directives to earn foreign currency for the nation."

"Don’t be modest." Andropov smiled. "The military supplies you procured, the smuggling channels you established, the financial arbitrage schemes you designed—each one is a classic. Even our own KGB agents admit that when it comes to making money, East Germany is ahead of the curve."

Werner set down his coffee cup. "Comrade Andropov, you didn’t call me here today just to praise me, did you?"

"Clever." Andropov stood and walked to the window. "Comrade Werner, to be honest with you, the Soviet Union is currently facing some... financial difficulties. Our industrial output is high, but our foreign exchange reserves are insufficient. The West has placed an embargo on us, making it impossible to buy many key materials. And our allies, like Cuba, Vietnam, and Angola, all require our aid, which is a heavy burden."

He turned, his gaze fixed on Werner. "We need to learn from East Germany’s experience. To be more precise, we need your experience."

Werner’s heart quickened.

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to serve as an economic advisor to the Soviet Union." Andropov walked back to his desk and took a file from a drawer. "We are preparing to establish an organization similar to Koko, responsible for earning foreign currency and procuring materials under the Western embargo. You will be the chief architect of this organization, reporting directly to me. Your rank will be equivalent to a Soviet minister, and you will enjoy the privileges of a Central Committee member."

He pushed the file in front of Werner. "This is the preliminary proposal. Take a look."

Werner opened the file.

He could barely read the Russian, but the contents of the document made him suck in a sharp breath.

The Soviet Union was preparing to invest fifty million Rubles in seed capital to establish the "General Directorate for Foreign Economic Cooperation," or GVK for short.

This organization would consolidate all of the Soviet Union’s foreign trade resources and establish a global smuggling network, dealing in arms, oil, gold, diamonds, and various other sectors.

And he, Werner Betelich, would be the one pulling the strings of this behemoth.

"The terms are very tempting." Werner closed the file and looked up. "But I need to know, what does East Germany have to say about this?"

"Comrade Anger has already agreed," Andropov said flatly. "He believes this is a good opportunity for East Germany to contribute to the Soviet Union."

Werner sneered inwardly. ’Of course he agreed. In the eyes of the Soviet Union, East Germany will only ever be the little brother. When Big Brother wants something, do they dare say no?’

"May I ask a question?" Werner looked at Andropov. "Why me? The Soviet Union has so many economic experts and foreign trade specialists. Why look for an East German?"

Andropov was silent for a few seconds, then spoke slowly. "Because you’re not an expert; you’re a man of action. Those experts only know how to write reports, hold meetings, and be dogmatic. But you’re different. You know how to deal with Western capitalists, how to make the impossible possible. That’s what we need."

He stood up, walked over to Werner, and patted him on the shoulder. "Comrade Betelich, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you succeed, you will become a hero of the Soviet Union, and your name will be written into the annals of history."

Werner felt the weight of that hand, not just physically, but politically.

Andropov was pressuring him, using honor, power, and the future as bait.

But Werner had only one thought in his mind: in 1991, the Soviet Union would collapse.

’As a Transmigrator, I know exactly how this vast empire will end. In another twelve years, the Soviet Union will crumble. Its fifteen constituent republics will declare independence, and the red flag will be lowered from the Kremlin. When that happens, anyone tied too closely to the Soviet Union will be finished. If I accept this position now and become the core of the Soviet economic machine, how will I get out when it all collapses? Besides, the Berlin Wall will fall in 1989, and East and West Germany will reunify in 1990. My plan is to complete my transformation before then, clean up my identity, and make a grand exit, re-emerging as a "hero who promoted reconciliation between East and West Germany." I’ve already laid so much groundwork, bribed so many West German officials, journalists, and Church members. My entire strategy revolves around this goal. I’m not doing all this just to be some petty bureaucrat in East Germany, or some hired hand for the Soviet Union. What I want is to be on the right side of history when the tables turn, to walk into a reunified Germany as a victor. But if I go to Moscow now, all of that will have been for nothing.’

"Comrade Andropov, I am honored, truly." Werner slowly stood up, needing a moment to organize his thoughts. "But this decision is too momentous. I need some time to think it over."

Andropov’s gaze turned colder. "Think it over? Comrade Betelich, this is not a business negotiation. This is a summons from the Party."

"I know." Werner met his gaze. "It is precisely because it is so important that I must be cautious. I have family, friends, and a career in East Germany. To suddenly leave for Moscow requires careful arrangements. And..."

He paused, putting on a troubled expression. "To be honest, my health hasn’t been good recently. My doctor says I have a heart condition that requires regular check-ups. Moscow’s medical facilities are excellent, of course, but I worry my condition will worsen if I leave my familiar surroundings."

It was the perfect excuse. It expressed loyalty while leaving him an escape route.

A "heart condition" was a vague concept. It could be minor or severe, and it was very difficult to verify.

Andropov stared at him for a long time.

Finally, he sighed and sat back down in his chair. "One’s health is indeed the capital of the revolution. How about this: I’ll give you one month to consider. During that time, you can return to East Germany, handle your affairs there, and get a full physical examination. One month from now, I expect to hear your answer."

"Thank you for your understanding," Werner breathed, sighing in relief.

"However," Andropov’s tone became stern, "Comrade Betelich, I want you to understand that this is not an invitation you can casually refuse. The Soviet Union needs you. This isn’t just about you personally; it also concerns the friendship between East Germany and the Soviet Union. If you ultimately refuse, I will be very disappointed, and Comrade Brezhnev will be very disappointed as well."

It was a threat.

Werner understood that if he refused improperly, not only would his own position in East Germany be affected, but the entire Koko organization might be suppressed by the Soviet Union.

"I understand." Werner bowed deeply. "I will consider it seriously."

"Good." Andropov pressed a bell on his desk. "Mikhail will see you out. By the way, I’ve arranged accommodations for you during your stay in Moscow—the presidential suite at the Polyana Hotel. There’s a small reception tonight with our economic officials. You can get to know them. Tomorrow, I’ll have someone take you to tour a few key departments to give you a firsthand understanding of the situation in the Soviet Union."

Werner’s heart sank. This wasn’t giving him time to consider; it was clearly house arrest and brainwashing.