The director was scrutinizing Nina openly. To make it easy for him, she rose her glass to her mouth and, with her eyes dropped, plunged her lips in the mineral water for a long while.
“All right, enough of Sirius,” said Samsonov. “I’ve got something else to discuss with you.”
The director walked to a safe in the wall, clicked his key repeatedly in the slot, opened the massive door and extracted a folder – a huge, hard, tightly fastened monster.
“That’s what’s really important,” he said, banging the folder down on the table. “What do you know about the project, Zaryadje–XXI?”
“Almost nothing,” Nina admitted honestly.
She had heard on the TV and read in the papers that plans were afoot to build a huge business center – not somewhere on the outskirts, but right in the historical heart of the city. Protectors of architectural heritage voiced their protests, but those voices were few and sounded muffled – a sure sign that the city authorities were in support of the project and kept the situation under a tight control.
“So that you understand – we’ve never before been involved in such a big project. If we make it, Gradbank will be rated among the top five investment banks in the country. And if we mess it up… Then, with luck, we’ll be selling hot dogs in the street.”
“I wasn’t even aware that Gradbank had anything to do with it,” said Nina.
“A request for tenders is going to be announced tomorrow, and we’re officially among the tenderers, so it’s no longer a secret. But, mind you, everything else about it is a secret. Top secret, and I mean it.”
“I understand,” Nina assured him. “But I don’t know anything.”
“You are going to. I want you to study the materials on Zaryadje – absolutely everything, every goddamn detail. You study it all and write your conclusion.”
Nina caught her breath. She had suspected that she was in for some kind of assignment, but that was beyond her wildest expectations. If she had been after a career in Gradbank, she would have been triumphant. What a chance! But Nina had not come to this bank to make a career, and instead of triumph, she felt cold anger – the same kind of anger that always filled her on the tennis court.
“Do you want me to find arguments in favor of the project? Or the other way?”
“Neither. I’m not going to suggest answers to you. As for me, I’m stuck in this business too deep now to see the big picture. So, your job will be to take an outsider’s look and tell me what you think. There are two questions, basically. One, whether we’ve done everything possible to win the contract. And the other, whether it’s a good idea for us to win it.”
He looked at her intently. Despite the easy, almost friendly tone that he took with her, it was obvious that he was talking of a matter that was very important to him.
“So? Are you in?”
“I am. That is, I’ll try. Thank you for giving me such credit. Only… What if I fail?”
He made a gesture of resignation.
“If you fail, I’ll send you back to Ariadna Petrovna, that’s all. She didn’t want to let you go, by the way.”
He patted on the folder. “Start with this, here’s the main stuff. Klara Fedorovna will help you with the rest. Have you made her acquaintance yet? It’s my assistant – she’s sitting here, in the reception. Now listen: you’ll be working alone, in a room close by, on this same floor. Klara will show you. You must not discuss anything with anyone besides me. You must not take any papers out. Klara and Sinitsin will fill you in on everything that concerns the computer – passwords, data bases and the like. Is that clear?”
Nina nodded.
“All right then, go ahead. Get to work,” the director said with a satisfied look on his face.
Nina tucked the heavy folder under her arm, picked up her box and moved towards the door, but after a few steps, she dropped both the folder and the box on the floor.
“Hey, no, that won’t do.” Samsonov came out from behind his table and bent down his massive torso to pick up the folder. “Let me walk you there.”
Ignoring her protests, he grabbed her box along with the folder and strode out of the office. Nina could barely keep pace with him.
In the reception, at the sight of them, the older woman jumped to her feet, came running up to Nina and held out a key. “This is to your room. I am Klara Fedorovna. Welcome.”
Marina did not say a word but, as Nina was going out the door, she felt Marina’s glare on her back. If a look had been able to kill, Nina would have been writhing in mortal agony. As it was, she was just amused. “I really feel for you, my dear,” she addressed the beautiful secretary in her mind. “Life’s not fair, is it? See? I’ve just arrived here, and the boss is carrying boxes for me already! … All right, relax, I’m not going to plot against you. I’m not planning on sticking here for much longer, anyway.”
They walked down to the end of the hallway where there was only one door. Samsonov nodded, “Open it.”
She opened the door, and they went in. The room was quite small, containing a table, a couple of chairs, a file cabinet, and a safe in the corner. On the table was a computer with a web of cables running from it into the wall. Everything was empty and tidy, but Nina noticed a thin film of dust on the table – apparently, the room had been out of use for some time.
“Here, make yourself at home,” said the director, dumping his burden onto the table. “Whatever’s up, be sure to call me – Marina will be putting you through. I’ll be coming round myself, anyway.”
He held out his hand and her narrow palm got lost in his paw – a huge, hard one, with perceptible corns of the kind that come from weight-lifting. Apparently, t'ai chi was not the only practice Samsonov was into.
“Gradbank’s fate is in your hands now.” He smiled broadly, looking her straight in the eye. “And my fate is, too.”
Again, despite his facetious tone, Nina felt that he was not really in a joking mood.
The director left. Nina sat at her new desk and buried her face in her hands. It had happened. Her vengeful plot – the one for which she had come to that hateful bank – was working itself out in the most incredible way. She had occupied a super-advantageous strategic position and was now only one step from her objective.
Chapter 2
That night Nina had a celebration, all by herself in her one-room apartment. For the celebration, she had two causes. First, she had every reason to congratulate herself on a major breakthrough in her subversive plans against Gradbank. The other cause was not a worthy one in her eyes – the day happened to be her twenty-seventh birthday.
She was sitting, with her legs tucked under her, in her favorite armchair. A standard lamp was casting around a soft, cozy light. On a small table by the armchair was a one-third empty bottle of Merlot and a plate with some cheese and cookies. What else does a single businesswoman need to celebrate her special occasions? In addition, there was the twinkling of the TV set in the corner – from an old habit Nina kept it turned on, but with sound off. The flashing of silent pictures helped her relax by keeping her eyes thoughtlessly occupied.
Her father had called to wish her a happy birthday. His voice on the phone struck her as tense and coarse. Could it be that he was drinking again? Her heart ached at the thought.
Also, her two girl friends had called – the only two she had left from her university years. Both were steadily married, with children. They updated Nina on their family life and chided her for living like an oyster. “It’s a crime