— She won’t run, — Pavel said confidently. — She has nowhere to run. And she knows it. — He turned to the people remaining in the room. — Thank you all for your promptness. Tomorrow will be a tough day. Go home, get some rest. I need everyone in top form.
When everyone had left, Pavel remained alone in the dark conference room. He thought about what could have happened if not for the chance encounter with a little girl in the hallway. The company could have lost clients, reputation, money. All because of the resentment of one person who decided she was underpaid.
Pavel turned off the light and went out into the corridor. Another sleepless night lay ahead.
The next day began for Pavel Chernyavsky at six in the morning. He had barely slept. All night, he replayed possible scenarios of the upcoming operation in his mind. Too much could go wrong. Svetlana could change her mind and not show up for the meeting. The representatives from “Status-Tech” could suspect something was amiss and cancel the handover. Or worse, try to claim ignorance about the information being stolen.
Pavel sat in his apartment kitchen with a cup of strong coffee, reviewing the documents Vera Yazvinskaya had sent him late the previous evening. The draft agreement for Svetlana’s cooperation, the legal justification for documenting the handover, the calculation of potential damages from Gennady. Everything was meticulously prepared, but the anxiety wouldn’t leave him.
At half-past eight, he arrived at the office. Usually, the company was just waking up at this time. Employees would trickle in by nine, drink coffee, and discuss their plans for the day. But today, the atmosphere was different. Pavel could feel the tension in the air. People were exchanging glances, whispering. News travels fast in such companies, and although yesterday’s meeting was closed, rumors had leaked.
Alena Strunina met him at his office with a folder of documents and an anxious expression.
— Pavel Igorevich, good morning, — she said. — You had a call from “Status-Tech.” A certain Vladimir Kasatkin, introduced himself as the Director of Development. He asked you to call him back during the day. Said the matter was urgent.
Pavel stopped.
— Kasatkin? Is that the one Svetlana was dealing with?
Oleg Myachin had checked the contacts yesterday. Alena flipped through her notes.
— Yes, that’s him. Svetlana’s calls went to his number.
— Interesting, — Pavel frowned. — So they’re nervous. Good. Make a note, I’ll call him back after lunch. Let them stew in uncertainty.
He went into his office and the first thing he did was call Oleg Myachin.
— Oleg, how are the preparations?
— Everything is going according to plan, — the head of security replied. — I checked the ‘Metropol’ café personally this morning. It’s a small place, three rooms, medium foot traffic. I’ve made an arrangement with the manager. They’ll let us install a camera in the room where they usually hold business meetings. We’ll say we’re checking on the staff. Also, one of our guys will be sitting at the next table with a directional microphone. Plus, Svetlana will have a voice recorder in her purse.
— Are you sure she’ll show up?
— I called her this morning. She confirmed. Says Kasatkin texted her last night to confirm the time. They don’t suspect a thing.
— Excellent. Who are we taking as witnesses?
— You, me, Vera Yazvinskaya as the lawyer, — Oleg listed. — And I’ve arranged with the local police officer. Officially, he’ll be passing by, but on my signal, he’ll come in and record the fact of the transfer. This will give the whole procedure legality.
— Well thought out, — Pavel approved. — We’ll meet at five p.m. in my office for a final briefing.
He hung up and pondered. The call from Kasatkin was unsettling. Maybe something had gone wrong on their end? Or were they just trying to confirm the details? Or perhaps they already knew Svetlana had been caught and were trying to feel out the situation?
At ten in the morning, Gennady Rudnitsky came into his office with a thick folder.
— Gennady Lvovich has finished the calculations, — the CFO said, referring to himself in the third person (or maybe it was a slip of the tongue from the secretary, Pavel thought, taking the papers). — Look. Three contracts we lost in the last four months. The first was ‘Technoprom,’ they went to ‘Status-Tech’ in August. Contract value – 3.8 million. The second – ‘City Systems,’ left in September – 5.2 million. The third – ‘Vostok Logistics,’ left in October – 4 million.
— Total? — Pavel asked.
— 13 million. — Gennady ran his finger along the total line. — These are direct losses. If we count lost profits and reputational damage, the figure could double.
Pavel nodded.
— Can you prove the link between the leak and the loss of contracts?
— Partially, — Gennady nodded. — I looked up the terms ‘Status-Tech’ offered our clients. In all three cases, their offer was 5-7% lower than ours. Just enough to beat our price without going into a loss. As if they knew exactly what number to name.
— And they did know, — Pavel said grimly. — Svetlana gave them our commercial proposals. They just undercut the price and took the clients.
— Exactly. — Gennady put the documents back in the folder. — This is called unfair competition. The fine for legal entities is from 300,000 to 3 million. Plus compensation for damages in a civil lawsuit.
— So, after today’s meeting, we’ll have all the grounds to sue them, — Pavel summarized. — Good. Prepare a full package of documents. As soon as we document the transfer, we file the lawsuit immediately….
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