Chapter 357 - 2: Rose-colored Carnation

Chapter 357: Chapter 2: Rose-colored Carnation

For the next two months, Werner traveled frequently between East Berlin and Budapest.

Each time, he traveled on business under the pretext of "inspecting the Hungarian market," carrying a large volume of trade documents as a cover.

But hidden among those documents were far more important items: West German Mark cash, samples of forged identity papers, and maps with detailed border routes.

Laszlo helped him rent a warehouse near the East Station.

Faced with West German Marks, the landlord signed the contract without asking a single question.

Werner also rented an apartment on the east bank of the Danube River.

The goods began arriving at the warehouse in batches:

One thousand Hungarian maps, marked with all the rural roads leading to Austria

Five hundred Austrian maps

Three hundred sets of forged Hungarian travel documents

Large quantities of canned food, drinking water, and first-aid kits

Compasses, flashlights, and warm clothing

And even dozens of sets of Hungarian civilian clothing

"What are these clothes for?" Laszlo asked, picking up a jacket in confusion.

"The way East Germans dress is too recognizable," Werner said. "Especially the style of their shoes and coats—it’s completely different from the West. If a border patrol spots them, they’ll be identified in an instant. If they change into these Hungarian clothes, they’ll at least look like locals from a distance."

Laszlo nodded. "You’ve thought this through."

"I have to," Werner said, stacking a box of maps. "In this line of work, one mistake in any part of the process could get someone killed. I don’t want any deaths on my conscience."

By the end of March, all the preparations were nearly complete.

Werner summoned Laszlo’s cousin, Evan, and his two army buddies, Imre and Yanosh, for a meeting at the apartment.

"The rules are simple," Werner said. "The three of you will be responsible for the ’deluxe package’ clients. Drive them to a location five kilometers from the border, then turn back. Remember, five kilometers. No closer."

"Why can’t we take them all the way to the border?" Yanosh asked.

"Because if you get caught," Werner explained, "you can claim you were unaware, that you were just giving someone a lift to earn a little extra money. But if you’re caught at the border itself, you’ll be caught in the act. A Hungarian military tribunal would still convict you for aiding an illegal crossing."

The three men exchanged a look and nodded.

"Furthermore," Werner continued, "you are not to tell anyone you work for me. Absolutely no one. If anyone asks, you’re just unlicensed cabbies making extra money driving tourists around. Don’t mention my name, don’t mention Koko. Say nothing."

"Understood," Evan said.

"One last thing." Werner stared at them. "If something happens, if you get caught, you deny everything. Insist you knew nothing. They said they wanted to go sightseeing at the border, and you thought they were just tourists. Understand?"

"Understood," the three men said in unison.

Werner nodded, satisfied.

He pulled three envelopes from his bag, each containing one thousand West German Marks. "This is your advance. Do a good job, and there’s more where that came from."

The three men’s eyes lit up.

In Hungary, one thousand West German Marks was equivalent to half a year’s wages for an average worker.

But now there was a critical question—where would the clients come from?

Werner couldn’t just wait around in Budapest for customers to show up.

He still had his regular job at Koko and other business to manage back in East Berlin. He needed to establish a network of contacts in East Germany so that people who wanted to escape would know how to find him. At the same time, he needed to set up an agent in Budapest to handle the day-to-day operations.

One April evening, Werner returned to East Berlin and went to an underground bar in the Prenzlauer Berg District.

The bar was in a basement, its entrance hidden down a small alley, with no sign.

Werner rang the doorbell three times before the door finally opened.

A young man with a thick beard named Thomas opened the door.

"Werner." Thomas recognized him and stepped aside. "What a rare sight."

This was a gathering place for dissidents in East Berlin.

Thomas was an underground poet who had earned some notoriety in their circles for writing poems that satirized the East German regime.

Werner had been secretly funding him for years—a few thousand Marks annually in exchange for trust and access to his network.

"Let’s talk somewhere quiet," Werner said.

Thomas led him to a small room behind the bar, closed the door, and handed him a glass of vodka.

"What do you need?" Thomas asked directly.

"To spread the word," Werner said, taking a sip of his drink. "I know many people want to leave East Germany. If anyone asks about a way out, tell them this: Go to Budapest, to Saint Stephen’s Cathedral near the East Station. Someone will be waiting there at two o’clock in the afternoon every Wednesday and Saturday. Remember the code phrase: ’I would like to buy rose-colored carnations.’"

Thomas furrowed his brow. "Werner, what are you getting into?"

"You don’t need to know," Werner said, pulling a stack of West German Marks from his pocket and placing it on the table. "You just need to pass the message. When you meet someone who wants to leave, tell them. That’s it."

Thomas stared at the money and was silent for a moment. "Is it safe? For me, I mean?"

"Safer than you think," Werner said. "You’re just passing on information; you’re not the one helping people escape. Even if the Stasi questions you, you can just say you heard it from someone and mentioned it in passing."

Thomas considered this for a moment, then smiled. "You have a point. Alright, I’m in."

Werner then visited three other locations: an underground rock club in the Friedrichshain District, a used bookstore in the Mitte District, and a church meeting point in Leipzig.

These were all hubs of dissident activity, and he used the same method to get people to spread the message for him.

The message spread like wildfire through the underground network.

It went from Berlin to Dresden, from Leipzig to Halle, from Karl Marx City to Rostock.

"Want to get to West Germany? Go to Budapest. Saint Stephen’s Cathedral. Two o’clock, Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. Code phrase: ’I would like to buy rose-colored carnations.’"

Meanwhile, in Budapest, Laszlo had arranged for a reliable contact: a middle-aged woman named Marta who ran a flower shop near the cathedral.

Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, she would sell flowers in the cathedral square, keeping an eye out for any East Germans looking for information.

If someone approached and said, "I would like to buy rose-colored carnations," she would lead them to a nearby café to register their information and collect a deposit.

Laszlo handled the standard clients—collecting payment, dispatching the ’goods,’ and arranging transport in an assembly-line fashion.

However, for high-value clients—such as families with children, those with the ability to pay a premium, or individuals with a special status—Laszlo would send an encrypted telegram to Werner, who would then fly to Budapest to meet them in person when he could.

This wasn’t just to ensure security; more importantly, it was to establish a personal connection.

Werner wanted these people to remember that it was he, personally, who had helped them. In the future, these people would become the evidence he needed to redeem himself. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

***********

In early May, the first clients appeared.

It was a Wednesday afternoon. While selling flowers in the cathedral square, Marta noticed three East Germans—obvious from their clothing and their cautious expressions.

They wore gray jackets and Zeha-brand sneakers—the most common style in East Germany.

They lingered in the square for half an hour, constantly glancing around.

Finally, one of the men walked up to Marta’s flower stall and said quietly, "I would like to buy rose-colored carnations."

Marta looked up and smiled. "The carnations are very fresh. Follow me."