Chapter 319 - 102: Investing in a Dissident (Part 2)

Chapter 319: Chapter 102: Investing in a Dissident (Part 2)

Four days later, Werner returned to the same church.

It was late at night, and only a few dim candles lit the church. Father Weber stood before the altar, a tall, thin figure beside him.

"Mr. Werner, this is Robert H. Harveyman," the priest said by way of introduction.

Harviman was about sixty, with neatly combed, gray-white hair, wearing a patched wool coat.

He sized up Werner, his gaze both wary and curious.

"Father Weber said you wanted to see me." Harviman’s voice was hoarse but strong. "A high-ranking Koko official wanting to meet a dissident under surveillance... that’s highly unusual."

"It is unusual," Werner said, walking over and sitting down on a pew. "So it’s best we get straight to the point. Mr. Harviman, I know what you’re doing—organizing reading groups, discussing democracy and human rights, criticizing the government’s environmental policies. I also know you’re in a difficult situation."

"And?" Harviman sat down across from him. "Are you here to persuade me to stop? Or to threaten me?"

"Neither." Werner shook his head. "I’m here to help you."

"Help me?" Harviman scoffed. "A Koko official wants to help a dissident?"

"I know it sounds absurd," Werner said calmly. "But I’m serious. I can provide you with funds—five thousand West German Marks a month. I can help you contact Western media and human rights organizations. And if your friends run into trouble, I might be able to help."

Harviman was stunned. He turned to look at Father Weber. "Is this for real?"

The priest nodded. "Werner is a businessman, but he’s a man of his word. Over the years, we’ve worked together to send many political prisoners to West Germany. He has never broken his promise."

"What’s the price?" Harviman turned back to Werner. "What do you want in return?"

"It’s simple." Werner held up one finger. "First, I need to know the general purpose of the funds. No specific details, but I need to know they aren’t being wasted. Second, I need to know the core members of your circle—not for surveillance, but to ensure I’m investing in people who are truly idealistic."

He held up another finger. "Third, and most important—if, in the future—and I stress, *if*—this country undergoes some kind of change, I hope you will remember that a man named Werner Betelich helped you in the darkest of times."

Harviman stared at Werner for a long time.

The church was silent, save for the soft crackling of burning candles.

"You’re placing a bet on the future," Harviman finally said.

"Yes." Werner didn’t deny it. "I don’t know how long this system will last, or when change will come. But I know that when it does, people like you will be at the forefront. And I need to ensure that I won’t be seen as an enemy when that time comes."

"So you admit this is motivated entirely by self-interest?"

"Entirely," Werner said frankly. "But that doesn’t change the outcome, does it? You get the funds and resources you need, and I get a future possibility. And honestly, Mr. Harviman, even if my motives are impure, the work I’m helping you do isn’t a bad thing in itself."

Harviman was silent for a long time, then suddenly laughed. "Your frankness is shocking. I was expecting a speech full of high-sounding rhetoric."

"You wouldn’t have believed it anyway," Werner said. "We’re both adults. There’s no need for such games."

Harviman looked at Father Weber. "Father, what are your thoughts?"

The priest thought for a moment, then said slowly, "Robert, I’ve known Werner for many years. He is indeed a businessman, and he always acts with a clear purpose. But he is also a man who keeps his word. How many families have been reunited with his help over the years? How many political prisoners have gained their freedom?" He paused. "And frankly, you do need help right now."

Harviman fell silent again for a moment, then extended his hand. "It’s a deal, Mr. Werner. Your motives may be utilitarian, but I appreciate your honesty."

The two men shook hands. Werner could feel the roughness and strength in the other man’s palm.

"I need a liaison," Werner said. "Someone who can represent your circle and maintain contact with me."

Harviman thought for a moment. "Bettina Wegener. Thirty-two, a biologist. She was fired for criticizing the government’s environmental policies. She’s smart, cautious, and idealistic without being reckless."

"Have her meet me next Wednesday at seven p.m., under the World Clock at Alexanderplatz. Tell her to carry a book with a green cover."

"Alright." Harviman stood up. "Mr. Werner, I don’t know if your plan will succeed, but regardless, thank you."

"Don’t thank me too soon," Werner said, also rising. "You might regret knowing me one day."

"Perhaps." Harviman smiled. "But at least today, I see a glimmer of hope—even if that hope comes from a selfish businessman."

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

Three nights later, Werner stood under the World Clock at Alexanderplatz.

The square was bustling with people—workers heading home, housewives out shopping, and young couples on dates all mingled together.

The massive clock tower glimmered with a cold light in the night, displaying the times in cities across the globe—New York, London, Moscow, Tokyo.

At seven o’clock sharp, a woman in a gray trench coat appeared.

She was of medium height, with short brown hair and black-framed glasses, and she was carrying a book with a green cover in her left hand.

She scanned the crowd, her expression tense but restrained.

Werner approached her. "Miss Wegener?"

The woman turned, looking at him warily. "And you are?"

"Mr. Harviman sent you to meet me," Werner said with a smile. "Let’s talk somewhere else."

"Where are we going?"

"Follow me."

Werner led Bettina across the square and into a quiet alley.

In the alley was a small café. Under the dim lights, only two or three tables were occupied.

Werner chose a corner table, sat down, and ordered two coffees.

"To be honest, Miss Wegener, I’m a bit surprised to meet you," Werner said, sizing her up. "I thought dissidents were all angry, bearded youths."

"Then you were mistaken." Bettina took off her coat, her tone cold. "We’re not madmen, nor are we terrorists. We just want to make this country better."

"By criticizing the government’s environmental policies?"

"You’ve investigated me." Bettina’s eyes narrowed.

"Of course." Werner didn’t deny it. "If I’m giving you money, I need to know who I’m dealing with." He took an envelope from his pocket and pushed it to the center of the table. "Here is five thousand West German Marks."

Bettina looked at the envelope but didn’t immediately reach for it. "Why?"

"Didn’t Harviman tell you?"

"He said a Koko official was willing to fund us, but he didn’t give many reasons." Bettina stared at Werner. "This sounds like a trap."