forced to sign a protocol on the accelerated repayment of the accumulated debt.
When Simonyan came back from the bank, he was not himself – his stateliness and gloss was all gone; now it was an intimidated, harassed man. He and Nina’s father had a decisive talk. Simonyan admitted that he was in a desperate plight and needed money badly – any money, down to the last ruble.
Yevgeniy Borisovich realized finally that Simonyan was ready to sacrifice the business. In his former life, Nina’s father had put almost twenty years into a construction syndicate only to see it finally go up in smoke. That was understandable, though – the whole country was falling to pieces at that time, not only some syndicate. Now that he had worked in Simonyan’s company for two and a half years he was attached to it as he once had been to his syndicate. He worked hard, constantly throwing in evenings and Saturdays. All the workers of the company had been selected and trained by him personally, and he could rely on every one of them. All the projects and technical solutions were his projects and solutions. However, the company had an owner, and the owner chose to drown it because of some problems he was having.
Yevgeniy Borisovich told Simonyan what the other man was perfectly aware of himself – that there were no more assets to sell as their obsolete equipment could only be disposed of as scrap. The company’ main worth was in its cadre, their skill and experience, but that had no salvage value. It was true, some money could be made if the remaining projects were sold off to other companies. The leases on the office and warehouse were also worth something – both had been paid for a year in advance and could be ceded to someone else. “But that means that there will be nothing to give back to the bank. It’s called liquidation of pledged assets, a criminal offence,” Nina’s father remarked gloomily. Ignoring his remark, Simonyan asked how long it would take to negotiate and close the deals on the projects and leases, and gave an answer himself, “At least a month. It doesn’t work for me.”
For a long while, Simonyan sat in silence, drumming his fingers on the table. Then he looked pensively at Nina’s father and said suddenly, “Listen, Yevgeniy, why don’t you buy the company from me? I’ll sell it cheap.” Yevgeniy Borisovich was taken aback. “But…” he muttered. “How do you mean? … Where would I get the cash, anyway? I’ve got no money to speak of, you know that.” Simonyan looked intently at him. “I said, I’ll sell it cheap,” he repeated. Then he named his price.
The figure was not large by Simonyan’s measure, but for Nina’s father, it was huge, impossible. At least, that was what he thought at first. But apparently, Simonyan knew more about such matters. “How much salary have I paid you, all in all?” he asked and gave an accurate total himself. “So, you must have put by about…” That other figure suggested by Simonyan made Nina’s father start – it was exactly the current balance in his savings account. Simonyan went on reasoning aloud, “You can mortgage your apartment and sell your car… Does your wife have anything? Fur coat, stones? You don’t like the sound of it, I understand, but check it out – it’s your once in a lifetime chance.” It appeared that, if Yevgeniy Borisovich sold and pledged everything that could be sold or pledged, the necessary sum just worked out. In exchange for that he could acquire an over-indebted, drained out company that was in for bankruptcy. “Only I want it quick,” added Simonyan.
Yevgeniy Borisovich said that he would think about it. He said so out of politeness only – he was sure that there was nothing to think about. The company was doomed, and however strongly he was stuck to it, it was no reason to put his head in the noose. He was not that insane – no, sir. However, deep inside him, a temptation stirred and whispered contrary to all common sense, “It’s your big chance. Don’t miss it.” For the first time in his life, Yevgeniy Borisovich – an honest, hard-working man who had a lot of talent but not much business grip – was faced with such a choice.
He asked Nina to come over to his place and together with Lydia Grigorievna, they held a family council. Nina was against the buyout adventure. She was aware of what had been going on between Simonyan and her father recently, and she was sure that the company was hopeless. She spoke harshly, without sparing her father’s feelings – she believed that it was the right thing to do in the situation. Simonyan simply wanted to shift his debts onto Yevgeniy Borisovich, and it could very well end up in Nina’s father and Lydia Grigorievna being stranded with no money and not even a roof over their heads.
That was when Lydia Grigorievna surprised Nina for the first time. She put her hand on the hand of Nina’s father and said, “Do what you think is right. I am with you.”
Yevgeniy Borisovich collected the necessary money and bought out the company.
Everything was completed in a rush, in a matter of two weeks. When the money had been handed over to Simonyan and all the papers had been signed in the company office, the two men opened a bottle of Armenian cognac of the same brand as the one that had started their business relationship. Simonyan was wistful and talked little. As he was leaving, he hugged Yevgeniy Borisovich suddenly and said, “Hey, man, we’ve done some nice kicking around, right? I don’t regret anything.”
The next day, it was announced on the local news that on the highway leading to Sheremetyevo Airport, a car accident had occurred killing Artur Simonyan, a businessman known in certain circles.
A hard, nervous time set in. Nina submerged herself in her father’s affairs; every day after work and on weekends, she came to his company to pore over the papers until late at night. Soon she knew the company’s accounts like the back of her hand. Even without being an expert in engineering matters, she could see that it was a good, sound business. The projects were reasonably devised – they promised financial gains and paved way to further prospects. The staff remaining after the reduction was like a clenched fist, all its members being experienced, reliable, and committed. Many of them had known Yevgeniy Borisovich from the times of the syndicate, they trusted him and were ready to tighten their belts in order to make it through the bad streak. In another couple of years of steady work most of the projects would have been completed. Then the gains would be enough to pay off a major part of the debt and launch new projects whose contours could already be discerned. The company would take on additional staff, expand operations, and in just a few years, unfold like a spring into a strong, profitable business. However, there was a snag that blocked all those prospects – the paying off on the loans was due much earlier than the projects could be completed, and the money was nowhere to be found.
Nina started a struggle for economy – scrutinized every single item of assets and expenses, including the smallest ones, and handed her father a list of what she thought could be cut. Although the list did credit to her thoroughness and professional skills, the total economy was insignificant. Everything of value had been withdrawn by Simonyan who had squeezed the company out like a lemon.
Nina was seeing her father almost every day now, but they did not talk much. Yevgeniy Borisovich was not himself after the recent events, especially Simonyan’s death of which he did not even know what to think. His only answer to all his concerns was work. He dug even deeper into the engineering problems – spent his whole days out in the field, at the company’s objects, meddling in his men’s responsibilities. The problem of paying off the loans did not exist for him – he just refused to discuss it, hiding his head in the sand like an ostrich. “Don’t you worry so much, Ninok,” he would say to his daughter with feigned optimism. “It all will sort itself out one way or another. When the time comes, I’ll go to the bank and explain everything. I’m sure they’ll give me an extension on the debt. After all, they’re not monsters, are they?”
After having worked in an investment company for a few years, Nina knew more about banks than her father and had no illusions about their mercifulness or even common sense. However hard she racked her brains though, she was unable to come up with any other idea – it appeared that they could only pin their hopes on an extension that the bank might mercifully grant them. Only, of course, they should not come to the bank bare-handed – they had to present a detailed business plan providing absolute proof that the bank was better off saving this business rather than drowning it.
Nina got down to drawing such a business plan, for a five-year period. For that, she could use some advice from Igor who was an expert in precisely that field – estimating