TEN YEARS AGO
The windows rattled behind him, and Rigel Walcott turned from his desk just in time to catch sight of the little gray dart as it disappeared from view. It was the defense secretary’s latest plaything, no doubt. Some decrepit old Soviet contraption that had no business still being in the sky. Walcott couldn’t identify the model—he had no interest whatsoever in planes—but he figured it was a safe enough bet. After all, no one else was allowed to fly over the government compound. And the defense secretary was no fool. A few thousand feet in the air was the place to be if you wanted a little uninterrupted away time. God knew it wasn’t safe on the streets of Baku anymore. Or pleasant, even if you took a few bodyguards along, with all the homeless people lying around. Walcott felt fortunate to prefer the kind of activities you can indulge in without leaving the house.
Walcott turned his attention back to his visitor. The guy was an executive from a gas distribution outfit and he was droning on about some tedious proposal to increase efficiency through consolidation, which was code for wanting to take a sizable chunk of business away from a rival operation. Such a move would require the approval of the president. And access to the president was controlled exclusively by Walcott.
“I think this chart sums the position up perfectly.” The executive pointed to the final slide on the iPad he’d perched on the edge of Walcott’s desk. “As you can clearly see, if our recommendation is implemented without delay, the country will benefit to the tune of five point seven billion manat over the next five years.”
Walcott’s face remained impassive. “So the country benefits. I take it your company benefits. But who else benefits from your scheme?”
“It’s funny you should ask that.” An oily smile spread across the guy’s face. “You see, in the course of testing the feasibility of the technological aspects of our proposal, we happened to carry out several field studies in a remote part of Uganda, in Africa. While we were there, we stumbled across a small colony of Rothschild’s giraffes. Now, these animals are very rare, as you may know. They’re critically endangered, in fact. As responsible citizens, we would like to help them. If we’re awarded this contract, we’ll be able to generate sufficient funds to bring a breeding pair to a safer country. Say, here. Although we’d still need to find suitable accommodation for the animals, so I was wondering if the president, given his particular experience in these matters, could perhaps suggest somewhere? Maybe I could put the question to him, if we have the opportunity to take the project forward?”
“Maybe you could.” Walcott leaned back and steepled his fingers. “If you have the opportunity. However, you’d be surprised how many proposals have crossed my desk recently. All of them offering to flood the country’s coffers. And all of their sponsors having coincidentally come across an exotic animal in need of relocation. So. What else do you have to offer?”
“Well, I truly believe our package is the most well rounded, if considered in its entirety.” The guy tipped his head to the side. “Perhaps if you had more time to assess it, you’d agree? If you were studying it in more conducive surroundings? Say, on our corporate yacht? It’s currently moored off Santorini, Greece. There’s a helipad on board. You could fly out tomorrow and go anywhere you want in the Mediterranean. Or the Aegean. And you could stay as long as you want. I mean, you could take as long as you need to properly assess the benefits of the proposal for the country.”
“I hope you’re not trying to bribe me with a free vacation. My assessment is purely economic. As things stand, I can’t recommend what you’re proposing. You simply haven’t provided enough detail. However, if I had access to all your figures and assumptions, and uninterrupted time to study them, perhaps that could change.”
The guy smiled. “I can have all the information you need, here, first thing in the morning.”
“Good.” Walcott nodded. “Send the information. By close of business tomorrow will be fine. But don’t bring it yourself.”
“Why not?” The guy swallowed hard. “I put the proposal together. I’m the best placed to explain the intricacies.”
“When you came to give your preliminary presentation last month, you brought two colleagues with you. Two young women.”
“With respect, I don’t think that’s right. My boss and I presented last time.”
“I’m not talking about the presenters.”
“Oh. OK. Now I know who you mean. But those girls are just interns. They have no detailed knowledge of our systems. No authority to make changes to our offer.”
“I understand that. And I want them here tomorrow, or there’ll be no deal.”
“You’re saying, if the girls come, we get access to the president?”
“Not necessarily. Whether matters progress depends on the girls’…demeanor. There’s no guarantee. But I can tell you this. If they don’t come, you definitely have no chance.”
The guy was silent for a moment. “OK. I think I can make that happen. But the girls, they’re very young. I wouldn’t want to send them anywhere they might not be…safe.”
“What do you mean?” Walcott leaned forward. “Why might they not be safe?”
“Well, there are rumors about things that might have happened on other occasions.” The guy closed his eyes for a moment. “No one mentioned your name, of course, Mr. Walcott, but they’re the kind of thing that makes me worried.”
“I see. Who did you hear these rumors from?”
“I’m not trying to make trouble for anyone. I’m just looking out for my interns. As long as they’ll be safe, I’m happy to send them along.”
“Good. Tell them to be here at 5:00 P.M. They should be prepared to work late. Now, who’s been spreading these rumors?”
“I don’t like to say.”
“Who?” Walcott banged his fist on the desk. “Look. Do you want the president to hear your proposal, or not?”
“It was Tarlan Huseynov.”
“OK. Thank you. Now, tell your girls not to be late.”
Walcott waited for ten seconds after the door closed, then hit a speed-dial key on his phone. His call was answered on the first ring.
“Connect me with Minister Balayev, right away. This is Mr. Walcott with the president’s office.”
The call was transferred and a man’s voice came on the line.
“Rigel? This is Ramil. How’s business?”
“You know. Can’t complain. Now, Ramil, listen. I need your help. There’s a guy, Tarlan Huseynov. Some energy company executive. I heard he’s been spreading salacious rumors about me. There’s a chance he’s being set up by one of his rivals, I guess. But talk to him anyway, would you? See if there’s anything to the story?”