Chapter 50: Risk and Return
The Ode to Joy drifting in from the banquet hall was cut off completely by the guards posted in the corridor and the black-and-red wooden door that sealed off the room.
It was the same villa, the same evening, yet divided into two entirely different worlds by a single door.
Outside were the decayed ornaments of the nation, those so-called members of high society drinking, laughing, and dancing in self-indulgent delight.
Inside sat the men who actually held chips in their hands.
At the round table, aged brandy the color of murky gold was poured into small crystal glasses.
Jörg lifted one, took a measured sip, then calmly laid out his plan before the assembled representatives of German industry.
"Herr Mandor has already explained part of the reason I invited all of you here tonight, so I will not waste time on pleasantries. The inspection team will arrive in Berlin in five days."
He let that settle before continuing.
"Once the rituals of diplomacy are out of the way, they will begin visiting the industrial cities in a little over a week to assess Germany's economic condition and determine the scale of future loans."
His gaze swept across the room.
"And what I want is for all of you to help me, or rather, help Germany, conceal the truth from the world and multiply the original loan figure several times over."
The moment the words left his mouth, the room fell silent.
Eyes met across the table, then slowly turned toward Karl Wilhelm, the Siemens representative seated at the center.
Among German industrial capital, Karl's status was beyond dispute. If anyone here had the authority to negotiate with the government on behalf of the whole room, it was him.
Behind his spectacles, his eyes shifted faintly. Unlike the others, who had already begun savoring their drinks, Karl merely raised his glass and inhaled the aroma of the brandy, like an old wolf testing the scent of prey.
"What exactly does the government require us to do?"
"Falsify industrial output," Jörg said without hesitation. "Falsify resource output. Make the inspection team believe Germany requires far more capital than they currently intend to offer."
Karl shook his head immediately.
"That is impossible, Major Jörg. Industrial output is not something you fabricate by adding a few extra lines to a document. The inspection team's on-site inspections would expose such a deception at once."
He paused.
"Resource output, on the other hand, can be adjusted."
He rested his fingers on the stem of his glass and spoke with slow precision.
"For one week, external sales can be halted. Internal production can be pushed into overdrive. When the inspectors arrive, we present that output as our normal rate. That part is feasible."
Then his eyes sharpened.
"In exchange, the government will grant us five years of tax exemption and one-third of the total loan allocation."
He spoke without the slightest hint of fear. As a representative of Siemens, with branches and interests extending even into Japan, Karl negotiated with the state as an equal, not a subordinate. Tonight, after all, it was the state asking for his help.
"Two years of tax exemption," Jörg replied at once. "And once the national loans are approved, foreign capital will increase its real investment in all of your businesses. If we succeed in misleading the inspection team, you will also secure more favorable terms in every private negotiation that follows."
He set down his glass.
"Do not mistake my age for softness, Herr Karl. I am not here to beg favors. I am here to discuss cooperation."
The negotiation stance shifted in an instant.
Karl's expression remained unreadable, but the refusal in his eyes weakened slightly.
Still, before he could answer, Bayer Sibens of Bayer Dye leaned forward and raised the flaw that troubled everyone.
"Let us say the resource issue can be handled. Fine. But what about the factories? What about industrial output?"
He spread his hands.
"We cannot simply conjure new production lines out of thin air. Even if we reopen outdated facilities, the transport costs alone would be enormous. The manpower needed to operate them would be astronomical. None of us has the funds or spare personnel to sustain such a display."
His voice hardened.
"And what exactly are we supposed to do with damaged production lines? Are we expected to pay out of pocket to repair worthless machines merely to impress foreign bankers?"
"Who said anything about long-term operation?"
Jörg's reply came so quickly that the words cut straight through the room.
He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting against the glass.
"We do not need those lines running for months. We only need them running when the inspection team is watching."
Then he turned his attention back to Karl.
"Take Siemens as an example. If Siemens can produce thirty old production lines from storage, then everyone in this room can certainly produce ten or fifteen. Combined, that gives us close to a hundred operational lines."
He let the number hang for a moment.
"So tell me, gentlemen, does that count as industrial capacity or does it not?"
The room went quiet again.
Even Mandor, who had been sitting to the side with his drink, felt a flicker of surprise. The idea was shameless, but it was also ruthlessly practical.
The inspectors would be evaluating industrial capacity, not conducting technical audits of every component. Even if a few engineers were among them, they would not dare declare on the spot whether every machine was truly modern, fully profitable, or permanently viable.
Jörg saw the calculations beginning behind their eyes and pressed harder.
"As for damaged production lines, the solution is even simpler. Do not repair them. Install them. Place workers around them. Let them appear to be undergoing restoration after war-related disruption."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"When the inspectors ask, you tell them exactly what they want to hear. That these lines were damaged by the war, that they are being brought back into service, and that Germany's industrial machine is poised for full recovery."
He spread his hands slightly.
"Is that really so difficult?"
The room remained silent for several long seconds.
Then Heinrich Lehard of Rheinmetall spoke first.
Unlike the others, Rheinmetall had been wounded more deeply than most. Its core business had been tied to arms production, and the Treaty of Versailles had crippled it. Military factories were dismantled, revenue dried up, and future prospects narrowed to a knife's edge.
He needed external capital more desperately than anyone in the room.
"No problem," Heinrich said.
Seeing someone commit first, Cardolan, who had been prepared to break the deadlock himself, nodded immediately afterward.
"Cardolan Investment Company has no objection."
That was enough to tip the balance.
The smaller industrial players, each with less to lose and much to gain, began voicing agreement one after another.
"Mercedes-Benz has no problem. We will cooperate with the government."
"Petrus Mining has no problem. We can increase extraction and inflate visible mineral output during the inspection period."
One by one, the hesitation began to crack.
At last, only Karl remained silent, his glass still in hand.
Compared to the others, Siemens had far more to consider. Its international exposure was broader, its reputation more valuable, and its caution correspondingly deeper.
"What happens," Karl asked at last, "if this is exposed?"
That single question froze the room all over again.
Jörg answered without a moment's pause.
"If it is exposed, the political cost falls on me."
His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
"The larger debt-transfer trend cannot be reversed by scandal. At worst, some of you lose part of the investment you hoped to secure."
Then his gaze hardened.
"But if it succeeds, every man in this room gains larger loans, stronger bargaining power, greater foreign investment, and a head start over every competitor not sitting at this table tonight."
He raised his glass slightly.
"In practical terms, your risk is nearly nonexistent. All you are required to do is cooperate."
A beat passed.
"So, Your Excellency Karl, what is your answer?"
He extended his hand across the table, utterly certain that no businessman alive would refuse a wager with so little real downside and such vast upside.
Karl looked at that hand for a long moment.
Then, finally, he reached out and clasped it.
"Siemens has no objection."
With that handshake, the lie became a pact.
.....
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