“We’ve been tracking Mr. Kazantsev’s financial activity for twenty-six months,” she said. “We had strong suspicions, but the foreign encrypted accounts were out of reach until now.” One of the prosecutors slid a document across the table toward me. “This is a standard immunity agreement,” he said. “You cooperate fully, testify if needed, and we protect you from prosecution related to the disclosure. You may also qualify for a whistleblower award based on recovered assets.”
I took the pen and signed. My hand moved across the paper easily, almost casually. Sophia collected the documents, locked them away, and leaned toward me. “Now we need one more thing from you,” she said. “We need you to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Kazantsev is almost certainly going to try to fire you,” she continued. “If he does it in retaliation for your disclosure, that gives us an additional charge—obstruction and retaliatory action against a whistleblower.” I looked at her. “So you want me to walk in and let him make the mistake?” “Exactly,” she said. “We’re just giving him room to do what he was always going to do.”
I slipped a hand into my jacket and felt the folded fifty in my pocket. The word “Rent” didn’t sting the way it had the night before. Now it felt like evidence. “What time?” I asked. “Nine a.m.,” Sophia said. “Show up like it’s a normal workday.”
The next morning, the electronic turnstile at the front entrance flashed red when I scanned my badge. My access had already been shut off. The security guard at the desk avoided eye contact, which told me all I needed to know. I waited in the lobby without saying a word. Five minutes later, two security men escorted me upstairs to the HR director’s office on the fifteenth floor.
Linda Sharpe sat behind her large desk in a navy business suit, hands clasped tightly in front of her. To her left sat the company’s chief legal counsel with a thick red folder. “Mr. Morozov,” she began in a dry, formal tone, “the company is terminating your employment effective immediately for unauthorized access to confidential financial data.” I said nothing. She glanced down at her papers and kept reading.
“Our internal cybersecurity system documented the unlawful copying of restricted files from the personal device of our chief executive officer. These actions constitute a serious violation of company policy and applicable law.” The lawyer slid a termination notice across the desk toward me. In bold print, under reason for dismissal, it read: “Theft of intellectual property and trade secrets.”
