Chapter 307 - 90: The Yom Kippur War Breaks Out

Chapter 307: Chapter 90: The Yom Kippur War Breaks Out

News of the outbreak of the Yom Kippur War reached East Berlin while Werner was sitting in his office at Koko Headquarters, a cup of coffee in hand.

The October sky outside the window was gray, and the autumn rain pattered against the glass.

The radio in the office was broadcasting the latest developments in the Middle East—Egyptian and Syrian troops had crossed the border and launched a surprise attack on Israel.

The announcer’s voice held a kind of restrained excitement, as if he were reporting a sports match.

Werner set down his coffee cup, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile.

"It’s here."

He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. The nicotine buzz sharpened his senses.

He knew the next few weeks would be crucial—if history followed the trajectory he remembered, OPEC would announce an oil embargo, the price of oil would skyrocket from $3 to $12 a barrel, the global stock market would crash, and the price of gold would soar.

And he, amidst this crisis, would make a fortune so vast it would leave everyone speechless.

The sudden ringing of the telephone shattered his thoughts.

He picked up the receiver. "Werner."

"It’s me." Anna’s voice came through the line. "Did you see the news?"

"I did."

"War has broken out in the Middle East." Anna paused. "That thing you mentioned before... is it really going to happen?"

Werner leaned back in his chair, gazing at the curtain of rain outside. "It will. Two weeks, tops."

"Are you sure?"

"I’m sure."

The other end of the line went silent for a few seconds. Then Anna said, "If you’re right, you’re going to make a killing this time."

Werner flicked the ash from his cigarette. "I know, but some people will get jealous. That’s why I need you to keep an eye on the Stasi for me."

"I will," Anna said. "Be careful."

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

On October 17, the news broke—OPEC had announced an oil embargo against Western countries supporting Israel and was raising oil prices by 70%.

Werner sat in his office, listening to the news on the radio, his face expressionless. But his heart was pounding.

’It’s here.’

’It’s really here.’

Ten minutes later, the phone rang. It was Peter Hawkins.

"Werner." The Brit’s voice sounded a little tense. "How the fuck did you know?"

Werner lit a cigarette and took a slow drag. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Peter."

"Stop playing dumb." Hawkins’s tone was a mix of shock and awe. "The price of oil has already hit $5, and it’s still climbing. That million-barrel contract of yours is now worth at least double."

"That’s good."

"’Good’?" Hawkins’s voice rose. "Werner, this isn’t a matter of ’good.’ You fucking locked in the price a month in advance, and now that the embargo’s been announced, you’ve hit the jackpot. How the hell did you know?"

Werner flicked his ash. "Peter, I just felt the situation in the Middle East was unstable and made some preparations in advance. Isn’t that normal?"

"Normal my ass," Hawkins cursed. "I’ve been in this business for twenty years, and I’ve never seen a prediction that accurate. You have an inside man at the CIA or something?"

Werner laughed. "Peter, I’m an East German, not an American."

"Then how the hell..." Hawkins paused, then sighed. "Fine, I won’t ask. You’re the winner here, anyway. Werner, if you want to sell those contracts, I can find you buyers. A lot of people are scrambling for oil right now."

"No rush," Werner said. "Let’s wait a little longer."

"Wait for what?"

"For the price to go up a little more."

Hawkins was silent for a few seconds, then he laughed. "You’re a madman. Alright, have it your way."

After hanging up, Werner glanced at his watch. Three in the afternoon.

He dialed David Rosenberg’s number.

"Werner!" David’s voice was practically a shriek. "Did you see? The global stock markets have plummeted! The Dow is down 6%! London is down 8%! Gold has gone crazy!"

"I saw."

"Your put options have tripled in value!" David’s voice was brimming with excitement. "Tripled! Werner, you’re a genius! A fucking genius!"

Werner leaned back in his chair and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "David, calm down."

"Calm down my ass!" David laughed until he was out of breath. "Werner, I’m a believer now. You really can predict the future. How in the world did you do it?"

"Luck," Werner said nonchalantly.

"Luck?" David’s voice rose again. "This isn’t fucking luck! This is a precision call! Werner, tell me, what happens next?"

"The price of oil will keep rising," Werner said.

David sucked in a sharp breath. "It’s already $5. You’re saying it’s going to go even higher?"

"That’s right."

"So when are you planning to close out your positions?"

"No rush," Werner said. "Let’s wait a little longer."

"You’re really not in a rush?" There was a note of concern in David’s voice. "Werner, the market changes fast. If you wait too long, you could miss the perfect moment."

"I won’t," Werner said. "Trust me."

"Alright." David sighed. "It’s your call."

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

On October 19, an emergency meeting was convened at Koko Headquarters to discuss the impact of the oil crisis on the East German economy.

The conference room was packed. Gunter sat at the head of the table, documents spread out before him.

Beside him were several high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Foreign Trade, as well as a representative from the State Planning Commission.

The rain was still falling outside, streaming down the windowpanes and blurring the street scene below.

"Comrades." An official from the Ministry of Foreign Trade spoke first, his voice laced with obvious anxiety. "The OPEC embargo has taken effect. The price of oil has risen from three dollars to five, and it’s still climbing. Our oil supply depends mainly on the Soviet Union, but we’ve received word from Moscow that they may reduce our export quota."

"By how much?" another official asked.

"At least twenty percent."

A low murmur of discussion filled the conference room.

The representative from the State Planning Commission frowned. "If the Soviet Union cuts our supply, we’ll have to procure it from other channels. But with oil prices this high, our foreign exchange reserves won’t last long."

"Not only that," the first official added, "but the entire global market is scrambling for oil right now. Many countries are willing to pay even higher prices. Even if we had the money, we might not be able to secure a shipment."

The atmosphere grew heavier. The officials discussed back and forth, each one emphasizing the severity of the problem, but no one could offer a solution.

Gunter had been sitting quietly the whole time, listening to the discussion. There wasn’t a trace of anxiety on his face; instead, he wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Finally, a young official couldn’t help but ask, "Comrade Gunter, what do you think we should do?"

Gunter looked up, scanned the room, and then slowly rose to his feet.

"Comrades, the problems you’ve all raised are indeed very serious." He paused, but his tone became light. "However, we will not be having those problems."

"What?" Several of the officials were stunned.

Gunter walked to the window. Gazing at the curtain of rain, he spoke with his back to the room. "Because we already have the oil."

The conference room fell instantly silent.

"Comrade Gunter, are you saying..." the representative from the State Planning Commission asked tentatively.

Gunter turned around and looked at Werner, who was sitting in the corner. "Werner, why don’t you tell them."