Chapter 343 - 126: Trip to Tehran (3)

Chapter 343: Chapter 126: Trip to Tehran (3)

The man in the center was in his fifties, with a thick black beard. He wore the uniform of the Revolutionary Guard, his epaulets displaying the rank of major general. His gaze was cold, and he exuded the distinct aura of a military man.

"Mr. Werner?" the major general said in Persian. A young officer beside him immediately translated it into English.

"That’s me." Werner extended his hand.

The major general didn’t shake it, merely nodding and gesturing for Werner to sit.

The room was furnished with a simple table and a few chairs. A kerosene lamp sat on the table, its flickering flame casting strange shadows on their faces.

"My name is Hussein," the major general began, the translator immediately relaying his words. "Commander of the Revolutionary Guard’s Third Division. Karim should have told you what I need."

"He did." Werner took a document from his briefcase. "This is the list of goods we can provide and their prices. You can take a look."

Hussein took the document, studied it for a few minutes, then looked up.

"Six million US Dollars?" He frowned. "Karim said your quote was five million."

"That was the initial quote," Werner said calmly. "But considering the quality and quantity of the goods, six million is a reasonable price. These weapons are newly produced, not old, surplus stock."

Hussein stared at him for a few seconds, then spoke a sentence in Persian. The translator relayed, "The general says he needs to confirm the quality of the goods."

"Of course." Werner pulled several thick product catalogs from his briefcase, all filled with technical specifications and photos of Soviet-made weapons. "Here are the detailed materials. You can take your time."

Hussein took the materials and flipped through a few pages, a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Delivery time?" he asked.

"Two months," Werner said. "The first shipment can be sent within a month, with the rest delivered in batches."

"Transport route?"

"Transshipped through Turkey, or shipped directly by sea to a southern port in Iran." Werner was well-prepared. "The specific route can be adjusted according to your requirements."

Hussein was silent for a long time, then he stood up and began pacing back and forth in the room.

The translator said in a low voice, "The general is considering it."

A few minutes later, Hussein stopped pacing and looked at Werner.

"Five point five million," he said in English. His accent was heavy, but his pronunciation was clear. "This is my bottom line."

Werner didn’t answer immediately.

He knew this was the crucial moment in the negotiation. ’If I insist on six million, I might lose the deal. But if I compromise too quickly, he’ll think I’m weak.’

"Five point seven million," Werner said. "And I need a promise from you—if this collaboration goes smoothly, we will establish a long-term supply relationship."

Hussein looked at him, a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

"Deal." He extended his hand.

The two men shook hands.

"When will the deposit be paid?" Werner asked.

"Within a week," Hussein said. "The money will be transferred to your designated account. But remember, if there are any problems with the quality of the goods, or if you leak any information about this transaction—"

He didn’t finish, but the threat in his eyes was clear enough.

"You can rest assured," Werner said calmly. "Koko’s business is built on reputation and confidentiality."

Hussein nodded and turned to leave. The other two officers followed him out, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Werner sat alone in the room, listening to the sound of a car engine starting in the distance. He took out a cigar, lit it, and took a deep drag.

’It’s done.’

A five-point-seven-million-US-Dollar deal, and the beginning of a long-term partnership.

He stood up and walked out of the factory. Fahad was already waiting by the car. Seeing him emerge, he immediately hurried over.

"How did it go?"

"We have a deal." Werner got into the car. "Let’s head back."

The car drove away from the factory and returned to downtown Tehran. Night had fallen, and the dim yellow streetlights illuminated the sparse pedestrians.

Werner leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

He knew this was just the beginning.

The missile crisis would last for several years, and the flames of war in the Middle East wouldn’t be extinguished anytime soon.

As long as he seized this opportunity and made good use of the chaos in the coming years, he could accumulate enough wealth and connections to prepare for the new era after the fall of the Berlin Wall.

The car stopped in front of Karim’s office building. Werner got out and took the elevator upstairs.

Karim was already waiting in his office. When he saw Werner enter, he immediately stood up.

"How did it go?"

"Five point seven million. Deal." Werner sat down. "The deposit will arrive within a week."

"Excellent!" Karim clapped his hands in excitement. "I knew you could handle it! Come on, let’s have a drink!"

He once again took out the bottle of whiskey and poured them both a full glass.

"To our partnership!" Karim raised his glass.

"To wealth." Werner clinked his glass against Karim’s.

They both downed their drinks in one go.

Karim put down his glass and looked at Werner. "What’s your plan now?"

"I’m heading back to East Berlin tomorrow to arrange the shipment," Werner said. "The first batch of goods must arrive within two months."

"What about Iraq?" Karim asked. "They’re also waiting for news from you."

Werner thought for a moment. "The Iraq business can wait. Let’s focus on getting this Iran deal done right. Once we’ve built up trust, future business will be easier."

"Smart." Karim nodded. "If you take too big a step, you’ll trip over your own feet."

Werner smiled.

The two chatted for a while longer, finalizing the specific transport routes and payment methods. After all the details were settled, Werner glanced at his watch—it was almost midnight.

"I should get back to the hotel." He stood up. "I have an early flight tomorrow."

"I’ll have Fahad take you." Karim clapped him on the shoulder. "Werner, with this partnership, we’re both going to make a fortune."

"I’m looking forward to it."

Back at the hotel, Werner lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

From outside the window, the distant sound of explosions could be heard from time to time—Iraqi missiles occasionally struck Tehran, a reminder to everyone that the war was still going on.

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

「Three days later. East Berlin.」

Werner returned to Koko Headquarters, and his first order of business was to call a meeting with Alexander and a few key assistants.

"The Tehran deal is done," he said, getting straight to the point. "An order for five point seven million US Dollars, delivery within two months."

A low murmur erupted in the conference room.

Alexander asked excitedly, "Where are the goods shipping from?"

"Rostock Port, in three batches." Werner drew a simple diagram on the whiteboard. "The first batch is light weapons and ammunition, to be sent out within a month. The second is anti-tank missiles, within six weeks. The third is machine guns and accessories, within two months."

"And the transport route?"

"By sea to Turkey, then transshipped by Karim’s people to a southern port in Iran," Werner said. "I’ll coordinate the specific details with Von Brown. The Stasi will arrange customs and transport."

Alexander nodded, jotting down notes furiously in his notebook.

"Anything else?" another assistant asked.

"Yes." Werner turned around, his eyes sharp. "This order is just the beginning. The buyer has promised long-term orders if this partnership goes smoothly. So, the quality must be up to par, and delivery must be on time. If anyone screws up, they’ll answer to me."

The conference room fell silent. Everyone could feel Werner’s resolve.

"Understand?"

"Understood!" they replied in unison.

"Good. Meeting adjourned." Werner waved his hand. "Alexander, stay behind."

After the others had left, Alexander closed the door.

"Boss, what are your orders?"

"Once the deposit arrives, immediately transfer a portion to the Strauss Company in Liechtenstein." Werner lowered his voice. "Book it as a procurement commission. Leave no traces."

Alexander nodded in understanding. "I get it."

"Also." Werner took out a slip of paper. "Here are a few Swiss Bank accounts. Memorize them. From now on, all gray income will flow through these accounts to diversify the risk."

Alexander took the slip of paper, examined it carefully, and then burned it with a lighter.

"Don’t worry, Boss. You can count on me."

The two discussed the details for a while longer, and then Alexander left.

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

「November 1983. East Berlin.」

Werner’s black Volga sedan parked outside a dilapidated apartment building in the Prenzlauer Berg District.

This area should have been rebuilt in the fifties, but the government never had the money, so it became one of East Berlin’s most run-down corners. The walls were peeling, and the hallways were perpetually filled with the smell of boiled sauerkraut and cheap tobacco.

"This is the place?" Franz asked from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowed so deeply you could trap a fly in it.

"Yes." Werner straightened his tie and picked up his briefcase.

Inside the bag was fifty thousand West German Marks in cash, wrapped in newspaper to look like a stack of documents.

"Boss, even Stasi informants can’t be bothered to come to a place like this," Franz muttered. "Why don’t I go up with you?"

"No need." Werner pushed the car door open. "You wait out here. If I’m not down in half an hour, proceed with the plan."

Franz sighed, pulled a Walter pistol from under his seat, and placed it on his lap. "Understood."