Chapter 347 - 130: The Solicitous Von Brown (2)

Chapter 347: Chapter 130: The Solicitous Von Brown (2)

Werner chuckled inwardly.

’Passing by?’ Von Brown’s home was in the north of the city, and this was the east side. How could he possibly be "just passing by?"

This old fox was definitely up to something.

"Welcome, Comrade Von Brown." Werner stood up, a polite smile on his face as well. "Felix, go find your mother."

The little boy obediently ran off.

Anna led her son into the bedroom and closed the door. As she left, she shot Von Brown a wary glance.

"Sit." Werner pointed to the sofa.

Von Brown sat down and placed the wine on the coffee table, his movements a bit stiff. "Georgian red wine, brought back from Moscow. Good stuff, not easy to get. Brought it especially for you."

’Especially for me?’ Werner took the bottle and looked at the label.

The wine was certainly good, but it wasn’t anything particularly rare.

Von Brown could barely be bothered to greet him on a normal day, yet here he was, bringing wine for a "special visit." The performance was laughably inept.

"You’re too kind." Werner poured wine for them both, his movements unhurried.

Von Brown picked up his glass but didn’t drink immediately. Instead, he said, as if making small talk, "How’s work been lately? I hear things are busy over at Koko?"

"It’s fine," Werner said flatly. "After Gorbachev came to power, Moscow has had some new requirements. We’re adjusting our plans."

"Gorbachev." Von Brown repeated the name, his smile a bit forced. "That man... everyone in Moscow is talking about him now. What do you think will come of his reforms?"

’Here it comes.’

This was Von Brown’s true purpose for coming tonight: to pry information out of him, to get his assessment of the situation in the Soviet Union.

For all these years, Von Brown had used him as a tool, ordering him to do this today and that tomorrow, never once treating him as an equal.

Especially in 1968, when Von Brown had insisted on leaving him in Prague, almost getting him killed in the artillery fire of the Soviet Army invasion.

Werner had carried an injured Erich while fleeing for his life through a hail of gunfire, nearly getting struck by a stray bullet. After returning to East Berlin, Von Brown hadn’t offered so much as a word of concern—just a flat, "Hard work," before telling him to write a report.

Werner knew that in Von Brown’s eyes, he was just a pawn, a tool—expendable at a moment’s notice.

Now that the situation was uncertain, Von Brown was panicking and wanted to cozy up to him to fish for information.

But from the looks of it, he couldn’t bring himself to swallow his pride and admit he needed Werner’s help. He could only feign this hypocritical warmth, probing for information while forcing a smile.

Werner took an impassive sip of his wine, deliberately paused for a moment, then said slowly, "I’m just a businessman; what do I know about politics? If Gorbachev wants reforms, let him. As far as Koko is concerned, all that matters is that we can earn foreign currency."

Von Brown’s hand, holding the wine glass, clearly stiffened.

He clearly hadn’t expected Werner’s reply to be so dismissive, so blatant in its lack of respect.

Von Brown forced a smile and cleared his throat. "That may be so, but you’ve been in contact with many people over the years; you’re well-informed. Over in Moscow, how far do you think Gorbachev’s reforms will go? Will they affect..." He paused. "Affect us?"

Werner pretended to consider the question, while inwardly he was just trying to figure out how to brush him off.

Von Brown was a selfish, ruthless man who would do anything for the sake of his own career.

A man like that could never be an ally.

"Well..." Werner spread his hands, feigning helplessness. "It’s hard for me to say. Reforms... who knows about such things? How can we see things in Moscow clearly from all the way over here in Berlin?"

Von Brown’s smile froze completely.

A flicker of displeasure flashed in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it, switching to another probing tone. "Then what about West Germany? You have plenty of friends there. Have you heard any whispers? What does the West think of Gorbachev? Do they think his reforms... are legit?"

In truth, Von Brown was seething with anger.

There was a reason he had swallowed his pride and come over tonight.

When Khrushchev was removed from power, Werner had known about the personnel changes in Moscow before the official announcement.

That incident had shocked Von Brown. He had investigated privately and suspected that Werner had extremely deep intelligence sources high up in Moscow.

Although Werner had never admitted it, Von Brown was no fool. That level of intelligence wasn’t something you could come by easily.

Over the years, Werner’s judgment had been proven accurate time and again. The Prague Spring, the oil crisis—with every major event, he was able to smell the changing winds in advance.

More importantly, Werner was now a favorite in Anger’s circle. The old man trusted him completely, even allowing him to sit in on some internal meetings.

Von Brown suspected that Werner must have more intelligence about the changes in Moscow and East Germany’s response, and that he certainly had his own predictions.

And Von Brown himself had been growing more and more uneasy recently.

The atmosphere within the Stasi had changed. The higher-ups were starting to privately ask about developments in Moscow, worried that Gorbachev would change his policy toward East Germany.

Von Brown could feel that the great edifice of East Germany was shaking, that cracks were appearing in its walls.

But he wasn’t sure how far the cracks would spread, wasn’t sure if the edifice would really collapse, and wasn’t sure what would happen to him if it did.

This uncertainty made him anxious and panicked, forcing him to lower himself to come and pry information from Werner.

But Werner, that bastard, wouldn’t let a single thing slip.

"West Germany?" Werner said, feigning casualness. "Just the opinions of businessmen, thinking the reforms might bring more trade opportunities. My contacts are all in business; they don’t understand political matters either. Besides, the Western media spouts nonsense every day. Who knows what’s true?"

Von Brown’s expression clearly darkened.

He took another large gulp of wine. He put the glass down with a bit too much force, creating a dull thud as it hit the coffee table.

"Werner." Von Brown’s voice lowered, carrying a hint of earnestness, but he still couldn’t completely drop his pride. "We’ve cooperated for so many years. If you have any thoughts, why not speak freely? Do you think, over in Moscow, there will be..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Will there be any major changes?"

"Comrade Von Brown, you must be joking. I’m just a legman, doing some trade, earning some foreign currency. Big matters like this are for the leadership to judge. You’ve been in the Stasi for so many years; your intelligence network is much better than mine. If even you can’t see things clearly, what can a mere businessman like me possibly see?"

The words were watertight, but every syllable reminded Von Brown: You’re the one from the Stasi, you’re the one in intelligence. You can’t even figure out the situation, and you’re coming to ask me?

Von Brown’s expression finally hardened.

His jaw tightened, a vein throbbed in his temple, and a flash of anger crossed his eyes.

But he forced it down, took a deep breath, and put on another smile. It was a smile that looked more painful than tears.

"You have a point." Von Brown stood up, his movements stiff. "Well, it’s getting late. I won’t disturb you any longer. Another time... we’ll talk another time."

"Take care." Werner also stood up and politely saw him to the door.