Chapter 367 - 12: The Cast-Aside Anger

Chapter 367: Chapter 12: The Cast-Aside Anger

Some departments were still operating by the book. Secretaries typed away and officials held meetings as if nothing had happened—a rigid inertia, awaiting directives from the central government in Berlin. But the top leadership couldn’t even manage their own affairs, leaving the grassroots level in an administrative vacuum.

Other departments, particularly sensitive agencies like the Stasi and Koko, had been plunged into panic.

Anna had told him that starting on October 10th, the Stasi began destroying its archives.

At first, they only targeted the most sensitive files, but as the situation deteriorated, the scope of the destruction widened.

Koko was no different.

Werner had noticed people quietly clearing out their offices since last week.

A few accountants from the finance department had suddenly called in sick and never returned. Hans from the procurement department had reportedly taken his whole family and driven to the Hungarian border. People were "disappearing" every day, but no one dared to ask, and no one dared to do anything about it.

Yesterday, Werner had run into an old colleague in the hallway, someone who had worked at Koko for fifteen years. The man’s eyes flickered the moment he saw Werner, and he rushed past without so much as a greeting. Werner understood. ’Everyone is just trying to protect themselves, afraid of getting dragged down with the rest.’

The last time Werner had seen such an atmosphere of universal paranoia was after the suppression of the Prague Spring in 1968. But back then, Soviet tanks had provided a backbone, and the panic quickly subsided. This time was different. The Soviet Union wouldn’t be coming. The panic would only grow deeper.

"Werner." Alexander knocked and poked his head in. "Conference room. All deputy directors and above are to attend. Gunter has an important announcement."

"Understood." Werner grabbed his folder and followed Alexander to the conference room.

The hallway was eerily quiet.

The normally bustling office area was now sparsely occupied; who knew where everyone else had gone.

Werner noticed several open office doors, the rooms within empty. Papers were strewn across desks, drawers were half-open—the occupants had obviously made a hasty departure.

"How many have fled?" Werner asked Alexander in a low voice.

"At least twenty," Alexander whispered back. "Last night, Hans from the procurement department took his whole family and drove to the Hungarian border. This morning, Liesel from the finance department was gone too. Word is she took a pile of public funds and fled straight to West Germany."

"Does Gunter know?"

"Of course he knows." Alexander smiled wryly. "But what can he do? Report it to the police? The police themselves can hardly stay afloat. The Stasi? The Stasi is busy shredding its own archives."

The two men walked into the conference room.

Over a dozen people were already seated inside—all of them Koko’s core leadership. Werner swept his gaze across the room, noting the suffocating atmosphere. Some stared at the floor, smoking, while others nervously wrung their hands. A few were pale, their eyes darting about.

Gunter sat at the head of the table, his face grim. The sixty-five-year-old man looked as if he had aged a decade overnight. The bags under his eyes were swollen, and the stubble on his chin was unshaven.

"Is everyone here?" Gunter asked, his voice raspy.

"They are," a secretary whispered.

"Good." Gunter lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said, "Comrades, I’ve just received word from the Central Committee. This afternoon, the Politburo is convening an emergency meeting to discuss... the issue of Comrade Anger’s future."

The conference room fell silent in an instant.

Everyone knew what "the issue of his future" meant—Anger was going down.

"Shit," someone muttered under their breath.

"Is this for real?" another asked. "Anger’s been First Secretary for eighteen years. They can just oust him like that?"

"Nothing’s impossible," Gunter sneered. "Khrushchev was toppled just as suddenly back in the day. Right now, hundreds of thousands are marching in Leipzig every day, and demonstrations are breaking out all over the country. The people in the Central Committee are scared. They’re looking for a scapegoat."

"But..." the director of the finance department said hesitantly, "when Anger replaced Ublis in 1971, that was also a change of leadership, wasn’t it? Back then, everyone carried on as usual, and I didn’t see anyone panic. Why this time... does everyone think East Germany is done for?"

"Because 1971 and today are completely different."

Gunter took another drag from his cigarette. "Back then, the leadership changed because Ublis had gotten old and the Central Committee needed some new blood. But the regime itself was stable—we had the support of our big brother, the Soviet Union; the Berlin Wall kept the people penned in; and the economy, while not good, was still afloat. It didn’t matter who was First Secretary; those fundamentals couldn’t be changed."

"And now? This isn’t just a change of guard. This is the foundation crumbling. Just think about it. The three pillars of our survival: the Soviet Union’s military protection, the physical barrier of our borders, and the veneer of our economic superiority—which of them is still standing?"

The room was silent as a tomb. Everyone was processing what Gunter had said.

"The Soviet Union?" Gunter scoffed. "Gorbachev has made himself perfectly clear: you must find your own path. Which, translated, means: ’You’re on your own. Don’t expect me to send tanks.’"

"The borders?" he went on. "Hungary started tearing down its barbed-wire fences back in May. Now, thousands of people a day are using it to get to West Germany. The Berlin Wall is still up, but it can’t contain people anymore."

"The economy?" Gunter shook his head. "We owe West Germany over twenty billion Marks. We’re practically bankrupt. West German television shows their prosperous lives every single day, and our people see it all. Who still believes we’re superior?"

He crushed his cigarette butt and stared at everyone in the room. "So this time is different. In 1971, we were just changing captains, but the ship was still sound. Now, the ship itself is sinking, and it’s useless to change the captain. Anger stepping down just means the Central Committee also knows the ship is sinking and wants to find someone to take the fall."

The silence in the room grew even more oppressive.

Everyone understood the subtext of Gunter’s words. ’This time, it really is different.’

"Then what do we do?" the procurement director asked urgently. "If Anger is out, will the new government come after Koko?"

"Absolutely," Gunter said without mincing words. "Any single thing we’ve done over the years is enough to face a firing squad. Arms dealing, contraband smuggling, trading political prisoners... If the new government wants to assert its authority, they’ll make an example of us first."

The atmosphere in the room became even heavier. Some began to sweat, others lit cigarettes with trembling hands, and a few faces turned ashen.

"Comrade Gunter," the finance director asked, his voice trembling, "so... so what do we do now?"

Gunter was silent for a few seconds. "Every department is to immediately start cleaning out its files," he said. "Every sensitive document, anything that could be used as evidence, destroy it all."

"What about the foreign currency accounts?" the finance director asked. "Our accounts in the West..."

"Transfer what you can, immediately," Gunter ordered. "Move the funds to private accounts, somewhere safe. We’ll reassess after the storm passes."

Werner listened in silence, saying nothing.

He had already started doing all of this—destroying incriminating documents, moving assets, securing a fallback plan.

"Werner," Gunter said, suddenly calling him out. "Your special procurement department, how many sensitive operations are you running?"

"Quite a few," Werner said calmly. "Procurement of military supplies, rare metals trading, arms exports to the Third World... It makes up roughly a third of my department’s business."

"And how’s the cleanup going?"

"I’ve already destroyed most of the files," Werner said. "The few remaining contracts and accounts can be cleaned up by the end of the day."

Gunter stared at him for a few moments before nodding. "Excellent. Werner, you’ve always been a steady hand. The rest of you, take note."

"All right." Gunter stood up. "Meeting adjourned. Go back and do what you have to do. By the way, at three this afternoon, the Central Committee meeting will be televised live. Let’s all watch and see just how our dear Comrade Anger is brought down."