Michael Weller
"The Island for the Whites", Book X, Chapter 75.
Kanzlerin
We see a ward that is either a hospital or a sanatorium. Big and chic ward. Outside the full-wall window – the shore of the lake against the backdrop of mountains, the greenery below turns into snowy peaks above: this is Switzerland. An extremely picturesque landscape, one hundred million dollars. And why did you decide that it was Switzerland, rather than the Bavarian Alps? – Because Switzerland has retained its statehood and its neutrality. And there you can live your life without worry and die peacefully, which is by no means guaranteed in Germany. Especially to such an odious figure as the former Frau Chancellor, who almost ruined her country into smithereens.
And here she lies, entangled in tubes and wires, like a deflated dried potato, supported by hydroponics. The head of the automated orthopedic bed is raised high. And next to her sits an uncommonly endearing gentleman in a pastor's collar. "Our omniscient God knows everything, Frau Merkel," he continues affectionately. – Opening the soul, you only facilitate it. Everything in the Down world, in our sad land, remains unchanged.
Only the path of your soul changes in its good ascension into the Heavenly and Eternal world. Nothing will change, except for the assessment on the Highest Scales – who were you in this mortal world. Do not leave the earth, keeping in the soul a load of unspoken doubts and sins left without repentance. This burden will not allow the soul to rise pulling it down, and its eternal wanderings in darkness and suffering are terrible, hopeless. But we won't let that happen, dear Angela. Speak, you have nothing to fear, time is running out. Because we both know what you want to say. My duty is to help you, as to anyone who suffers – just as you have helped so many in your glorious life. So! When did you start working for the KGB? Let's start from the beginning: when were you recruited?
Is it easy to say? Angela Merkel's face on the orthopedic pillow turns even more yellow, flabby flesh crawls from the skull; a tube going into the nostril, attached with a strip of plaster, whistles.
"I don't understand you," she says inaudibly, and death rises and takes possession of her being: the tip of the nose sharpens turning white, her cheeks turn gray, her eyes fall into funnels. The pastor pulls off his collar, revealing his beefy neck, takes a scarlet box from the inside pocket of his jacket, takes out of it something flat, colored, and squeezes it in Merkel's lifeless wet fist.
"President Putin and the Russian government are awarding comrade Angela Merkel with the highest award of the state – the Golden Star of the Hero of Russia! The President and the government congratulate you! We wish you good health and happiness in your well-deserved retirement! You have withstood all examinations and tests with honor, Comrade Merkel. You did an excellent job fulfilling the tasks assigned to you. Intelligence is proud of you!
On the fading face there is an expression of a soldier standing in line at attention. A German soldier, and the palms are reflexively pressed to the hips, and the elbows are slightly bent. A shadow of the words runs across the ashen lips: "I serve the Soviet Union!"
"Of course," the "pastor" says, “we all still serve the great Soviet Union. You and I, old people, are Soviet people. It's an honor to meet you, Angela.
He leans over the lying one and carefully attaches a sign with a sword and shield to her light green hospital gown on the right.
"Honorary State Security Officer", and on the left – the Golden Star of the Hero on a three-colored ribbon and the Cross "For Merit to the Fatherland", II degree. Then this FSB pastor presses the button on his iPhone, and two men walk in the door.
The first smiles with the cheeky friendliness of a sadist, he puts a bouquet of scarlet roses on the dying woman’s chest, but lower than the awards, so that they can be seen, and takes several photos from different angles.
The second one has a “face of trust”, he instantly enters into emotional eye contact with the patient, takes out a dropper tube from the cannula inserted into the vein for a minute and injects Angela from two brought syringes: one drug, then another. He nods to the pastor and leaves with the photographer.
A few minutes later, Angela's face turns pink, her eyes take on a meaningful expression and shine, and an expression of a happy and endless perspective of life appears on her face, organically characteristic of youth, but now flashing with madness in the curves of senile wrinkles.
"Jawoll, my Fuhrer! – she says clearly. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. I'll tell you everything.
My family moved from West Germany to the East. It was rare, right? Everyone tried the opposite – to escape from the East to the West. My father was a priest, but in the GDR he ceased to be one. Our family had socialist views. Father was often released abroad, to the West. This is also atypical; it was a rare privilege. Much later, I learned that in Hamburg he worked for the KGB allegedly under the cover of the London Polish government intelligence: dad was from the Poles. They began to follow him, so he had to flee with his family. Can you imagine: after a congregation in Hamburg – the tiny Perleberg in Brandenburg? The Stasi later cleared the tracks.
I was a pioneer; I was a Komsomol member – in the Union of Free German Youth. We studied Russian at school, and my father advised me to learn hard. Therefore, by the end of the school, I won all the Olympiads in the Russian language – both in the city and the entire GDR. And the winner was awarded a trip to Moscow.
And such trips were organized by the Friendship Society of the GDR – USSR. And I was accepted as a member of the society. Well, before the trip, as expected, we had a conversation: about political literacy and so on.
After Moscow, the Society was quite satisfied with me. I was an active Komsomol member. And after graduating from the school, I was included in a group that went to the USSR as trainees, for six months, to Donetsk, to the university. Before the trip, they had a conversation with me that I pay attention to the behavior of my comrades and, if there was something disloyal, I would report it. It was a common practice, many people talked like that. And we signed a non-disclosure agreement.
Rainer Kunze published a book in FRG, and this was a serious offense. He was expelled from the Writers' Union. But even before the scandal with the publication, I was brought to him, we met, and I compiled reports on our meetings: his statements, moods, which people he mentioned. This is how my collaboration with the Stasi began in earnest.
When I worked at the Physics Institute of the Academy of Sciences, I was the secretary of the Komsomol Committee for Ideology: it is clear that one thing was connected with the other in the GDR.
And then the Wall came down. Markus Wolf sent all the archives to Moscow, to the KGB. Germany got unified. But whether I was a member of the Democratic Breakthrough, or the Alliance for Germany, or moved to the CDU and became the Minister for Women and Youth, I was still faithful to my youth, and the ideals of socialism; and besides, I knew that the KGB, renamed into the FSB, can get in touch with me any day.
And in 2002, when we lost the elections and joined the opposition, their hand reached... that is, you came to me. You worked with members of the faction; you gave money to the party through various channels. And I was re-elected chairman of the CDU! And I was re-elected time after time.
In 2011, when oil was $120 a barrel, I pushed through the decision to shut down nuclear power plants. I had to pay them back. And for the fact that the FSB used its own means to extinguish any information that could lead to suspicion that I was working for them. Germany had the most advanced nuclear power plants. Their closure cost the country a lot of money. This money went to Russia – for their oil and gas. Burning this oil and gas was extremely harmful to our atmosphere. But I didn't have a choice...
And when in 2014 Putin started a war with Ukraine, and shot down a Dutch Boeing, and then got stuck in Syria, and the West was indignant – I had to ... I had to! .. I let the migrants. I forced the entire EU to let in migrants! I did not allow to punish them even for violence against German women! They robbed, insulted, raped children, beat passers-by... they slaughtered the women who looked after them in the camps, where these savages were fed and clothed! And the electorate, the people, and Europe were no longer concerned about Russia and Putin, much less about some Ukraine.
I faithfully served the world's first country of socialism. Motherland of all proletarians. May you all drop dead. I'll be waiting for you up there. To laugh at you in hell.
Heil Marx!
"Very well, Frau Angela," said the man on the chair in a low voice, "very well. You see how good it is that you said it all. I am glad that I helped you."
He took out a gun and shot her in the mouth.
"After all, I must get at least some pleasure from the conversation", he muttered.