Chapter 366 - 11: Miracle at Gunpoint

Chapter 366: Chapter 11: Miracle at Gunpoint

"It’s about to start," the old man said in a low voice.

Werner’s heart began to race.

He knew what history had recorded—there would be no shooting today. But standing here, seeing the dark muzzles of the guns aimed at the crowd, he still felt a wave of fear.

’What if the things I’ve done over the years have created a butterfly effect, causing history to deviate?’

’What if some jittery officer gives the order to fire? What if Anger really has decided to suppress this at all costs?’

’Then tonight, this square will become a slaughterhouse.’

"We are the people!"

Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted.

"We are the people!" More people joined in.

"We are the people! We are the people! We are the people!"

The chant swept across the square like a tidal wave, deafening. Seventy thousand people yelling in unison—the sound felt like it could shatter the sky.

The armored cars didn’t move.

The soldiers held their guns, but they didn’t fire.

The crowd kept chanting, kept advancing. They held candles and placards, walking step by step toward the armored cars.

Werner saw a group of young people at the front, with Thomas among them. They linked arms, forming a human wall, leading the march. Behind them were more people—workers, students, teachers, doctors, housewives. There was fear on their faces, but even more determination.

"Peace! Peace! Peace!" someone changed the chant.

"Peace! Peace! Peace!" everyone shouted along.

It was a wondrous moment.

Seventy thousand unarmed civilians, facing armored cars and submachine guns, chanting "Peace." They had no weapons, no shields—only candles and courage.

Standing in the square at this moment, listening to seventy thousand people chant "We are the people" in unison, Werner felt a shock unlike any he had ever experienced.

’This is the power of the people.’

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

「Karl Marx Square, 7:00 PM.」

The standoff had lasted for half an hour.

The armored cars didn’t advance, and the crowd didn’t retreat. The two sides were locked in a stalemate, neither daring to make the first move.

Werner noticed the soldiers’ expressions. Most were young men in their early twenties, about the same age as the protestors in the crowd. They held their guns, but their hands trembled, and their eyes darted about. They were clearly hesitating—these demonstrators could be their classmates, their neighbors, even their relatives. ’Could they really fire on their own countrymen?’

Suddenly, a military jeep drove into the square and stopped beside an armored car. An officer jumped out and spoke a few words to the commander on site. Then he picked up his radio and said something.

Werner held his breath.

The next second, a miracle occurred.

The armored cars began to reverse.

One, two, three... All the armored cars began to slowly back away, leaving the square. The soldiers retreated as well, lowering their guns and climbing into trucks.

The square erupted in cheers.

"They’re pulling back!"

"We won!"

"God bless us!"

People cheered, jumped, and hugged each other. Some cried, some laughed, and still more knelt on the ground, thanking God.

Werner stood where he was, watching it all unfold.

He knew this was the turning point of history.

October 9, 1989, Leipzig. A peaceful demonstration of seventy thousand people. The East German Government chose to back down.

From this day on, the people would no longer fear the regime.

From this day on, the countdown for East Germany had officially begun.

"Brother!" Thomas ran over from the crowd, a brilliant smile on his face. "We did it! They pulled back!"

"I saw," Werner said.

"Do you know what this means?" Thomas said excitedly. "It means they don’t dare to shoot! It means we can keep going! Next week, the week after, even more people will take to the streets, until this regime collapses!"

"They will," Werner nodded. "They definitely will."

Thomas suddenly reached out and gripped Werner’s hand tightly. "Thank you for being with me today. To be honest, I was really scared before the prayer meeting. But after talking with you, I wasn’t afraid anymore."

"I didn’t do anything," Werner said.

"No, you did," Thomas said seriously. "You told me they wouldn’t shoot today. You said Gorbachev wouldn’t support Anger. You were right. You’re a man of great insight."

Werner smiled. ’If Thomas knew I was the deputy director of Koko, a Stasi informant, a merchant who’d made tens of millions of Marks by trading arms and political prisoners, would he still be saying this?’

But tonight, he didn’t want to think about all that. Tonight, he just wanted to be an ordinary person—an ordinary person standing in the crowd, witnessing history.

"What’s your name?" Werner asked. "Your full name, I mean."

"Thomas Schröder," the young man said.

"Thomas Schröder," Werner repeated. "Got it."

"And you? What’s your name?"

Werner hesitated for a moment, then said, "Werner. Werner Betelich."

"Werner Betelich." Thomas smiled. "Good name. When East and West Germany reunify, I’ll buy you a drink."

"It’s a deal," Werner said.

The two shook hands, and then Thomas turned and ran back to his friends.

’Perhaps history isn’t just made by great men. Perhaps it’s made by countless ordinary people like Thomas, Monica, and that old engineer.’

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

「Leipzig Central Station, 9:00 PM.」

Werner sat in the waiting room, waiting for the train back to East Berlin.

The celebration in the square was still going on, but he had to leave.

Tomorrow, he had to go back to work at Koko, to continue playing the part of the shrewd deputy director, the Stasi collaborator, the cold-hearted merchant.

But what happened tonight would remain in his memory forever.

The roar of seventy thousand people, the rumble of armored cars, the tears shed during the cheers, and Thomas’s young, hopeful face.

’This is the true face of history.’

"Comrade Betelich?"

Werner turned his head and saw a middle-aged man in civilian clothes standing in front of him. The man had a stern face and sharp eyes—a Stasi agent, without a doubt.

"And you are?" Werner asked calmly.

"I am Major Wagner of the Leipzig Security Bureau," the man said, showing his identification. "Please come with me."

Werner’s heart sank, but his expression remained calm. "Is there a problem?"

"Routine questioning," said Wagner. "We noticed you at the demonstration this afternoon. You’re from East Berlin. Why are you in Leipzig?"

"Business," Werner said. "I have a business partner who lives in Leipzig. I came to see him today."

"Oh?" Wagner narrowed his eyes. "What is this business partner’s name? Where does he live?"

Werner was prepared. He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Wagner. "Fritz Mueller, deputy director of the Leipzig Chemical Plant."

Wagner took the card and examined it carefully. This was a real person—Werner did indeed know the deputy director of the Leipzig Chemical Plant, although he hadn’t actually gone to see him today.

"And what business did you discuss with Deputy Director Mueller?"

"The procurement of industrial solvents," Werner said. "Koko is procuring a batch of high-purity solvents from West Germany for their plant. It’s routine business for us."

Wagner was silent for a few seconds, then asked, "Then why were you at the demonstration?"

"Just passing through," Werner shrugged. "I was on my way back to the station from Mueller’s house when I found the streets were full of people. I got swept up in the crowd for a while before I could finally squeeze my way out."

"Is that all?"

"That’s all." Werner looked Wagner in the eye. "Comrade Major, I’m just a businessman. I have no interest in politics. I was just unlucky enough to get caught up in the demonstration today."

Wagner stared at him for a long time, trying to find a flaw in his story. But Werner’s expression was impeccable—calm, innocent, with even a hint of resignation.

"Alright." Wagner finally put his identification away. "Comrade Betelich, I’ll believe you’re telling the truth. But I must still remind you, the situation is sensitive right now. Try to avoid troublesome places like Leipzig."

"I understand," Werner said. "Thank you for the warning."

Wagner turned and disappeared into the crowd.

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

「October 18, 1989, East Berlin, Koko Headquarters, 10:00 AM.」

Werner stood by his office window, gazing at the sparse few pedestrians on the street below.

All of East Berlin was shrouded in an eerie silence, like the calm before a storm.

It had been nine days since he returned from Leipzig. In those nine days, all of East Germany had been violently shaken.

October 9th in Leipzig: seventy thousand people demonstrated peacefully, and the government ultimately did not open fire.

After that night, everything changed.

The next day, an even larger demonstration broke out in Dresden.

On October 16th, the number of protestors in Leipzig swelled to 120,000. In Halle, Karl Marx City, Erfurt—people took to the streets all across the country.

Anger ordered a crackdown, but local officials were all waiting and watching—the precedent in Leipzig had proven that armored cars could retreat, that soldiers could hold their fire.

Even more fatal was the Soviet Union’s silence.

Gorbachev’s cold attitude at the National Day celebration made one thing clear to everyone: Moscow wasn’t sending in the tanks this time. Without the support of the Soviet Union, the East German regime was like a body without a backbone.

In the past few days, Werner had observed the entire government apparatus beginning to fracture in a terrifying way.