Free Web NovelChapter 90: Chapter 7: The Board is Set
Eleven o’clock at night. A textile factory warehouse.
Werner stood in the center of the warehouse, which was piled high with goods. The light swayed in the dim space, casting long shadows. The warehouse was large, but it was now almost completely full—rows of shelves and boxes of products, all stacked neatly.
Keller and two other subordinates were taking inventory. A short man named Fritz was checking items off a list, one by one, while another young man named Schmidt recorded the numbers.
"Boss," Keller said, walking over with the list, his face flush with excitement. "All counted. 420 kilograms of coffee beans, 82 cases of cigarettes, 300 pairs of nylon stockings, 17 West German radios, 180 barrels of industrial solvent, and 95 barrels of developing agent—"
He paused for a moment. "At current Black Market prices, this shipment is worth at least two hundred thousand Marks."
"Two hundred thousand..." Fritz swallowed hard, his eyes wide. "Boss Werner, I’ve been in this business for five years, and I’ve never seen one man with this much stock. Even when Krupp was at his peak, his warehouse was never this full."
"Boss Werner," Fritz hesitated, but asked anyway, "about Krupp... What are your plans?"
Werner turned around. "What plans?"
"I mean," Fritz said, rubbing his hands together, his voice low, "his situation right now... The word on the Black Market is that he’s about to go under."
Werner didn’t answer immediately. He walked over to a wooden crate and sat down.
"Tell me, what have you heard?"
Fritz glanced around, confirming it was just them, before continuing, "I know some of Krupp’s men. I ran into a few old acquaintances on the Black Market these last couple of days."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "All of Krupp’s old channels have been cut off. The border guards were transferred, his contact at the train station has gone dark, and his connection at the docks is dead."
"I hear," Fritz lowered his voice, "that his men are getting restless. Some are demanding their pay upfront, and others want to leave. A few days ago, you probably heard, his men got into a fight with someone else over the last few cases of cigarettes. It was an ugly scene."
Keller added from the side, "I heard about that today, too. Krupp’s people are asking around about new channels, but no one is willing to work with him. Everyone knows he’s in a bad spot, and no one wants to get on that sinking ship."
"Also," Fritz continued, "they’re asking about you. Asking how you managed to hoard so much stock, what channels you have, who you’re connected to."
"Boss, I think Krupp will come looking for you sooner or later," Keller said seriously. "He’s only got a little stock left, enough to last another week at most. When the time comes, he’ll either ask you for help, or—"
"Or make a move on me," Werner finished, his tone frighteningly calm.
The warehouse suddenly fell silent.
"Boss," Fritz gulped, his voice trembling slightly, "what if he really... I know Krupp too well. On the surface, he seems like a gentleman, very respectable, but when he’s cornered, he’s capable of anything."
"He won’t." Werner flicked the ash from his cigarette, his tone still placid. "Krupp is a smart man. And because he’s smart, he won’t make a move now."
"Why not?" Schmidt couldn’t help but ask.
"Because the timing is wrong." Werner stood and walked to the window, looking out at the dark street. "Right now, the Stasi are watching the Black Market. Any disturbance will bring a complete purge. Krupp has been in this business for over a decade; he knows that very well."
He turned back to face his men. "Besides, making a move wouldn’t do him any good. Even if he got rid of me, he’d still have no channels, no source of goods. In fact, it would just bring him more trouble."
"Then what will he do?" Keller asked.
Werner slowly walked back and sat down on the crate again.
"He’ll watch and wait," he said. "He’ll watch first, to see if he can find new channels. If he can’t—"
He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze turning deeper. "He’ll only have two choices: bow his head, or get out."
"Which one do you think he’ll choose?" Fritz asked carefully.
"He’ll watch and wait for a long time," Werner said. "A man like that doesn’t bow his head easily, nor does he admit defeat. He’ll wait, look for an opportunity, and try to find a way to make a comeback."
"But," his voice turned cold, "when he finally realizes he has no other choice—at that point, the negotiating power between us will be entirely on my side."
Keller nodded thoughtfully.
"So for now," Werner stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, "all we have to do is wait. We continue to solidify our channels, continue to expand our influence, and let Krupp see that there’s no place for him in this new order—unless he accepts my terms."
"Understood, Boss," Keller said.
"Go get some rest," Werner waved his hand. "We have a lot to do tomorrow."
***************
At that same moment, in a small hotel in the Prenzlauer Berg District of East Berlin.
Joshua Schlotter sat in the cramped room, an East Berlin map spread across a small, simple table before him. The map was covered in various markings—red crosses, blue circles, and a few scribbled notes.
He had been in this room for a week.
「The night a week ago had changed everything.」
Joshua had originally planned to lead more than twenty families of political prisoners across the forest border to West Germany in mid-September. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
He had spent months preparing—scouting the terrain, gathering supplies, and designing the route.
He had already contacted a well-known broker on the Black Market and was about to receive the supplies. With those supplies, they could cross through the forest on the border of East and West Berlin and make it to West Germany.
But in the early morning of August 13th, the Wall suddenly went up.
Joshua would never forget that morning. He was woken by a commotion outside the hotel. He pushed open the window and saw the street was full of people. Some were crying, some were shouting, and some just stood there in a daze. He rushed downstairs, pushed his way into the crowd, and then he saw the wall.
No, it wasn’t a wall then, just rows of barbed wire and barricades. But it was enough—all roads to West Berlin were blocked, and every checkpoint was swarming with soldiers.
That included the forests. Reconnaissance teams had already cleared a death strip in the woods surrounding Berlin—trees were felled, the ground was leveled, and barbed wire and landmines were installed. Anyone trying to cross would be discovered.
His plan had turned to dust in an instant.
Joshua lit a cigarette with a trembling hand. It was one of his last.
Joshua looked at the markings on the map. Each red cross represented a blocked route, and each blue circle represented a safe point that was no longer valid.
He had tried to make a new plan.
Perhaps he could forge documents? But now all identification was being re-verified, and anyone suspicious would be detained.
Perhaps he could bribe the border guards? But all his old contacts were gone. The new soldiers on duty were carefully selected and wouldn’t dare take the risk.
Joshua pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and buried his face in his hands.
’He was finished.’
Not only was his plan finished, but he himself was in danger.
He needed to get out of East Berlin as soon as possible.
But at the same time, he couldn’t just leave—his mission wasn’t complete. Those politically sensitive families hadn’t left East Berlin yet.
Joshua stood up and paced back and forth in the tiny room.
He had been gathering information for the past few days.
Through the hotel owner, through a chance encounter with a small-time Black Market peddler, through various scattered conversations, he had pieced together some information.
After the Wall went up, the landscape of the East Berlin Black Market changed dramatically.
All the old powers had lost their channels, with the sole exception of one young man—
Werner Betelich.
The name had suddenly become red-hot on the Black Market.
He had supposedly stockpiled a huge amount of goods in advance and was now the only one with a stable supply.
More importantly, he was said to have many mysterious connections—the Church, the Stasi, the border guards, even munitions factories. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
When Joshua heard the name, the cigarette nearly fell from his hand.
Of course he knew the name—he had ordered that batch of border-crossing supplies from Werner. They hadn’t been delivered yet, but now they were useless. The Wall had changed everything.
Joshua never expected that the up-and-coming broker whose reputation was growing on the Black Market would, overnight, become the only person with connections.
’Was it a coincidence? Or did Werner already know something?’
Joshua walked to the window and looked out at the dark streets. In the distance, the searchlights on the Wall swept back and forth relentlessly.
He needed to find Werner again.
But the question was—where could he find him?
Werner never appeared in the same place twice.
Previously, for every transaction, Werner had contacted him to arrange a time and place.
Joshua didn’t even know where Werner lived or what he did during the day.
Now, after the Wall went up, Werner had vanished completely. Though his name was on everyone’s lips, he no longer appeared on the Black Market himself.
Joshua forcefully stubbed out his cigarette.
He had to find a way to get to Werner.
*****************
It was already one in the morning when Werner returned to his apartment.
He sat down at his desk, lit a cigarette, and the name "Joshua" came to mind.
The man would come looking for him sooner or later. The Wall had cut off everyone’s escape routes; Joshua had no other choice.
He just needed to wait.
He stood and walked to the window.
In the distance, the searchlights on the concrete wall continued their ceaseless sweeping, like vigilant eyes monitoring the divided city.
Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke, a faint smile playing on his lips.
’The Wall could only separate physical spaces, not needs and interests.’
’Where there is demand, there is a market.’
’And where there is a market, there is an opportunity for him.’
Smoke rose slowly in the darkness.
Krupp was watching, Joshua was struggling, Matthias was waiting, and Weber was preparing.
All the chess pieces were in their places, waiting for the next move.
And he, Werner Betelich, stood at the center of this new order, holding what everyone needed—
Channels.
Supply.
Hope.
The sound of a patrol team’s footsteps echoed from the street outside, orderly and heavy. Werner watched their shadows move across the street, the corners of his mouth lifting in an almost imperceptible curve.
He stubbed out his cigarette, turned off the light, and disappeared into the darkness.
But in the darkness, his eyes were still bright.
’Because he could see the future.’
’A future that belonged to him.’
[END OF VOLUME ONE]
