Chapter 348 - 131: The Crack in Eastern Europe

Chapter 348: Chapter 131: The Crack in Eastern Europe

At the doorway, Von Brown suddenly stopped and turned back.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing. He just nodded and turned to leave.

Werner stood in the doorway, watching Von Brown’s back disappear down the stairwell.

The once-arrogant colonel now walked with a heavy gait, his shoulders slightly stooped, as if he had suddenly aged ten years.

After closing the door, Anna came out of the bedroom, holding the already-sleeping Felix in her arms.

"How did it go?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"How did it go?" Werner scoffed, walking to the window to watch Von Brown get into a car and drive away. "Just a stray dog with his tail between his legs."

"He’s panicking." Anna put their son back in the bedroom and returned with a serious expression. "I heard whispers at the Stasi. The higher-ups have been quietly asking about the situation in Moscow. A lot of people are worried that Gorbachev might change his stance on East Germany."

"They should be worried." Werner lit a cigarette. "This East German house is made of paper; it will collapse at the slightest gust of wind. This country doesn’t rely on its people, but on Soviet tanks and Stasi surveillance. The moment the Soviet Union withdraws its support, everything will fall apart."

***********

That night, Werner lay in bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time. The sound of a car occasionally drifted past from outside the window.

He thought of Von Brown’s retreating figure, of the once-invincible colonel’s now-dejected state, and a complex emotion welled up inside him.

In the distance, the Berlin Wall was faintly visible in the darkness, like a barrier on the verge of collapse.

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

「June 1985. Budapest.」

Werner stood by the Danube River, watching Buda Castle on the opposite bank glow golden in the sunset. A tour boat occasionally passed on the river, its horn sounding long and low.

"Mr. Betelich, my apologies for keeping you waiting."

A voice came from behind him.

Werner turned and saw a man in his forties walking toward him.

The man wore a light gray suit and tie, his hair was impeccably combed, but his eyes held the shrewd worldliness characteristic of an Eastern European bureaucrat.

"Mr. Nagi." Werner extended his hand.

Laszlo Nagy, forty-three years old, Deputy Director of the Hungarian Ministry of Foreign Trade, and one of the leading figures of the reformist faction.

Werner had already inquired about this man through Koko’s channels before coming to Budapest.

Nagi was a technocrat promoted during the Kadar era. Unlike the older generation, he wasn’t rigid; he was interested in Western markets and enthusiastic about reform. More importantly, the man was greedy.

"You’ve chosen a nice spot," Werner said, looking around. "The view of the Danube River is truly beautiful."

"It’s quiet here," Nagi said, lighting a cigarette. "And no one pays attention. Let’s go. We can talk as we walk."

The two men walked slowly along the riverbank.

June in Budapest was warmer than in East Berlin, and a lazy feeling hung in the air. The roadside cafes were full, with waiters weaving between them carrying trays.

"Mr. Betelich." Nagi took a drag from his cigarette. "You didn’t just come to Budapest to sightsee, did you?"

"Of course not." Werner smiled. "I’m here to talk business."

"What kind of business?"

"Consumer goods," Werner said. "East Germany is short on consumer goods right now, especially home appliances, textiles, and daily necessities. I hear Hungary has good production capacity in these areas, and the prices are cheaper than in West Germany."

Nagi stopped and looked at him. "You want to import these things from Hungary to East Germany?"

"Yes." Werner nodded. "Large quantities, long-term cooperation."

Nagi was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "Mr. Betelich, you’re very direct. I like that."

"In business, being direct saves the most time."

"Then I’ll be direct as well." Nagi flicked the ash from his cigarette. "Hungary’s current policies are quite different from East Germany’s. We’re implementing economic reforms. Enterprises have more autonomy, and foreign trade is also loosening up. The problem is, we’re short on foreign currency."

"That’s precisely where I can help," Werner said. "I can pay in West German Marks."

Nagi’s eyes lit up. "Entirely in West German Marks?"

"Entirely."

"And the price?"

"Eighty percent of the market price," Werner said. "But I want the best quality goods and a stable supply."

Nagi did a quick calculation in his head and nodded. "Acceptable. But there’s a problem. How will these transactions be accounted for? According to regulations, trade between Hungary and East Germany must go through the Warsaw Pact’s internal clearing system and be settled in Rubles."

"Which is why we need some... flexible arrangements," Werner said, lowering his voice. "For example, routing it through a third-party company."

Nagi looked at him, his gaze turning scrutinizing. "Mr. Betelich, what you’re proposing doesn’t sound quite compliant with regulations."

"Mr. Nagi." Werner also stopped and looked him straight in the eye. "We’re both adults here. We know that rules are rigid, but people are flexible. Hungary needs foreign currency, East Germany needs goods, and I can connect the two. As for how we connect them, that’s a technicality."

Nagi was silent for a moment, then smiled. "This is why I enjoy dealing with clever people."

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

Two hours later, the two men were seated in a secluded restaurant, the table laden with roasted goose, potato pancakes, and Hungarian red wine.

"Here’s my plan," Werner said as he carved the roasted goose. "I’ll register a trading company in Austria to act as the middleman. The Hungarian factories will first sell the goods to this Austrian company, settling the payment in West German Marks. Then, the Austrian company will resell the goods to East Germany, settling that payment in East German Marks. This way, on paper, it all looks like legitimate trade."

"What about the margin?" Nagi asked.

"We split the margin," Werner said. "You get thirty percent, I get seventy."

"Why do I only get thirty percent?"

"Because I’m taking the risk, I’m managing the cash flow, and I’m handling the paperwork," Werner said, taking a sip of wine. "Plus, I have to grease palms on the East German side. All you need to do is ensure the goods can get out of Hungary and the money can get in."

Nagi thought for a moment, then nodded. "Deal. But I have one condition."

"Name it."

"The money can’t be wired directly to an account in my name," Nagi said in a low voice. "I need you to open an account for me in Switzerland. All commissions go there."

Werner smiled. "That’s simple. I have connections in Switzerland. I can take care of it for you."

"Then it’s settled." Nagi raised his glass. "To a successful partnership."

"To a successful partnership."

The two men clinked their glasses and downed the wine in one gulp.

As he set his glass down, Nagi suddenly said, "Mr. Betelich, may I ask you a question?"

"Please."

"What are your thoughts on Gorbachev?"

Werner raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"Because the winds in Moscow have changed." Nagi lit a cigarette. "Gorbachev is pushing for reform, openness, new thinking. The reformists in Hungary are all excited, feeling like this is finally their chance. But on the East German side, I hear Anger refuses to budge, no matter what."

"Anger certainly won’t budge," Werner said. "He doesn’t think East Germany needs reform."

"So what do you think?" Nagi leaned in closer. "How long can East Germany hold on?"

Werner looked at him and suddenly understood. Nagi didn’t just want to do business; he was also fishing for intelligence.

This man was smarter than he looked.