Chapter 109
Chapter 109
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Backchannel Negotiations (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Molotov informed us that they had made contact with the Germans.
It was an unusually honest response for communists.
“The Germans proposed peace talks. We’ve decided to hear what the fascists have to say for now. Rest assured, we have no intention of pursuing a separate peace.”
The reason was obvious.
They were showing their sincerity by not pushing for a separate peace, essentially telling the West and Korea to step up.
It was all for show.
They shared every detail of the negotiation process with us.
By reviewing the Germans’ negotiation terms, we got a glimpse into Berlin’s inner turmoil.
‘Hitler, this bastard—doesn’t seem like he’s serious about negotiating at all?’
Here’s what Germany proposed:
Cede Lithuania and the Soviet portion of Polish territory to Germany in exchange for a ceasefire.
In response, the Soviets demanded a guarantee of their pre-1938 Czech annexation borders.
It wasn’t a sincere offer so much as bait to gauge German intentions during talks.
With such a wide gap between positions, the negotiations hit a snag.
Watching this unfold, I could tell the German Reich was in turmoil internally.
Stalin surely knew it too.
‘The stage is set for the Red Orchestra to thrive.’
I’d already heard that the German National Salvation Military Committee under Paulus was ramping up propaganda and pacification efforts.
Things were so dire that Germany collapsing in a scream by ’44 wouldn’t surprise anyone.
‘Maybe it’s time to poke a little pipe into Germany.’
If they were approaching the Soviets for a separate peace, they must be desperate for contact with the West.
I sent directives to our embassies in Switzerland, Sweden, and Turkey to make contact with the German side.
It wasn’t long before we got a response from Germany.
A German operative entered Switzerland and asked us the purpose of the contact.
“We’d like to know the specific terms from the Korean side.”
My terms?
Unconditional surrender.
But that was for the state level.
Don’t you war criminals want to save your necks?
I leaked a hint along those lines to the Germans.
I dropped suggestions that big shots like Göring could be spared if they played their cards right.
Germany went silent for a while.
Was the bait too weak?
About a week later, the fish bit.
“We’d like to know exactly how you’ll guarantee our safety.”
We’d hooked a big one.
The contact was from the head of the unified Foreign Intelligence and Counterintelligence Agency—Walter Schellenberg.
It wasn’t Schellenberg himself, but one of his subordinates, though we both knew what that meant.
As head of Germany’s intelligence apparatus, he might not be at the top of the hierarchy, but his real influence was immense.
A heavyweight on par with the late Heydrich.
A war criminal, sure, but one with utility.
‘Plenty of value in shaking hands with him.’
I laid out three options.
1. Launder their identities.
Turn them into ghosts no one knows about, and they’ll never face a war crimes trial.
Even in modern times, ghosts were damn hard to catch.
Just look at how many times the infamous Jewish hunters struck out trying to nab Eichmann.
Of course, if they screwed up while on the run, that was on them.
No insurance coverage.
2. Pardon them through backroom deals during the war crimes trials.
A clean wash, no need to run.
But they’d suffer through the trial period.
Trials could drag on for months or years, meaning jail time as a suspect.
If prison life didn’t appeal, skip this one.
3. Bring them to Korea for protection.
Under Korean auspices, they’d be safe from Allied pressure.
And that’s not all.
We could slot them into some obscure public corporation where they wouldn’t draw attention.
Walter Schellenberg showed interest in my proposal.
“Is there any guarantee we can trust the Korean government’s promise?”
“No such promise exists. But our government needs you. Who throws away someone they need?”
“Wouldn’t linking up with the Anglo-Americans be more advantageous?”
“They’re democracies. Public opinion could force them to dispose of you. Korea has no such worries. My word as Lee Seong-jun is the word of the Korean Empire.”
Hearing the pitch about the stability(?) of a military dictatorship, Schellenberg asked for time to think.
He was clearly weighing options with the Anglo-Americans.
‘Do they think their Anglo-American pals will treat Nazis like angels?’
Of course, with the Soviet threat, there was a good chance they’d offer selective pardons and clean slates.
That’s how plenty of Nazi war criminals got out.
But not with guarantees as ironclad as what I was offering.
Ah, right—they don’t fully represent their nation’s will like I do.
In December, as we tugged back and forth with Schellenberg, the Soviets smashed through a section of the Dnieper River defense line, encircling an entire German corps.
Manstein was doing his best, but the encircled corps’ annihilation seemed inevitable.
With the war turning dire, Schellenberg’s attitude shifted.
“Can we trust the Korean government’s credibility?”
“We’re not commies.”
Feeling the clock ticking, he pushed things forward.
“Very well. We’ll trust Korea’s promise. We’ll take your second option.”
He’d go through the hassle, dust himself off, and live openly.
I signaled agreement to Schellenberg.
“Then we have conditions of our own.”
“Name them. We’ll cooperate.”
“First, we need locations on Germany’s key scientists and engineers.”
We had to kidnap—er, secure—talents like Wernher von Braun or Werner Heisenberg before the competition did.
No sense leaving top-tier brains behind.
“That’s not difficult.”
“Second, precise intel on German deployments on the Western Front.”
Odds were Normandy, but if deployments shifted, we might need to change landing sites.
“Tricky, but we’ll try.”
I dangled a few more conditions but promised Schellenberg a hefty postwar payout in return.
Cash on top of the pardon.
I was giving this Nazi war criminal the full package.
Schellenberg knew it and expressed gratitude.
A satisfying deal for both sides.
“Oh, one more thing. Director, there’s some intel you need to leak in Berlin.”
I handed Schellenberg our blueprint for the “German Partition Plan.”
He was stunned by the documents.
“You’re really going to carve up our homeland like this?”
“For a nation that started two world wars, that’s generous. Should we erase Germany from the map instead?”
“I-I get that, but this is still too harsh.”
Ah, freaking out over Germany just getting sliced up.
I also tipped him off about the 1944 Romanian coup.
No guarantee it’d happen exactly like in our timeline, but better safe.
I didn’t want the Romanian coup—which dealt Germany a blow rivaling Bagration—to fizzle out.
“A coup in Romania? No way.”
Schellenberg dismissed it.
But it was possible.
A royalist coup led by the king himself.
“The king’s plotting it. Better strike first.”
No sympathy for the Romanian party secretary busy sowing communist coup seeds.
We might cooperate, but they weren’t real friends.
Schellenberg promised to pass all this intel to Berlin.
The backchannel negotiations ended on a high note.
Not sure if our leaks worked, but word soon came from Moscow: the German-Soviet peace talks had collapsed.
Neither side was serious, but the quick breakdown suggested our partition talk was the tipping point.
After Schellenberg, a few more Germans reached out discreetly.
Sinking ships always crawl with rats.
“Korea guarantees your safety. Cooperate, and you’re good.”
“Th-then we’ll cooperate. What do you need from us?”
After Schellenberg came the aristocratic paper-pushers from the Foreign Ministry.
Once the line opened, snippets of Germany’s internal situation started filtering in.
I was shocked by what I learned.
‘This is a goddamn house of cards. Are these guys really a great power?’
The Nazis were running a phantom state that could crumble any minute.
The economy was on the brink of bankruptcy, internal chaos from repeated defeats and purges was spreading, and allies were visibly drifting away.
They were a one-trick pony living off military might.
Or had they always been?
From Frederick the Great of the Brandenburg Miracle—Potato King himself—they’d thrived on military one-tricks.
No wonder the country was a mess.
Tsk tsk.
Like a pseudo-Korean Empire.
Anyway, Germany warranted closer attention.
I ordered the Intelligence Agency to coordinate with Schellenberg and keep a sharp eye on German affairs.