Testing The Waters


fedor_icon.gif nisha_icon.gif

Scene Title Testing the Waters
Synopsis Nisha is welcomed aboard Fedor's yacht and offered a strange and possibly fruitful opportunity. She has her misgivings, however, and no deal is signed.
Date February 2, 2009

The Polikarpov

Its quiet, and cold. Very cold in fact. The dock itself is somewhat high security, theres alot of security guards milling around and a book to sign in and a ID check. Once you pass through and your onto the docks themselves, its easy to see why however. The smallest yacht in the yard is an eighty footer with silver trim, and theres something that could easily pass as a cruise ship parked at the far end. Guys named Theodore and Tad, mill around in expensive sweaters trying to look anything but as rich as they actually are. Anywho, down slip number three as directed and near the very end is your potential client's home. The Polikarpov was one of the oldest vessels in the whole joint, but the MD-500 wearing the distinctive black and green of "Chicago Executive Aviation" was an easy reminder just who this guy was. He owned one of the most highly reguarded executive airlines in the country, and had industrial contracts with numerous large clients the country over. It was odd perhaps, that he wasnt the one parked in that little cruise ship.
"Are you here to see Mr.Ibragimov?"Came a soft voice, from a freckle faced middle aged red hair. She was wearing overalls herself, but it said "pilot" and had little wings. "He's down in the stateroom, anyway I'd be chattier but I need to get going."before she all but vanishes all ninja like through the glass on the second story, soon enough she was ontop and climbing into the chopper parked ontop.

It's after normal business hours, but the client Nisha Kotecha has arrived to court is far from normal. The assignment was undoubtedly passed to her because of her looks, a fact that Nisha would care not to dwell upon, but there are certain aspects of her job that she cannot combat. She may be a partner, but that doesn't mean she can't just ignore what the 'boys' ask her to do.

One must act in the best interests of the firm.

With nods and smiles, Nisha makes her way as directed until she reaches the stateroom, where she lingers in the doorway, unconsciously letting the rectangle frame her. She wears a pale blue blouse beneath a fitted black blazer, paired with pants and a pair of matte black boots. Three strings of pearls hug her neck, helping to fill the visual void in the open collar of her shirt, and she is protected from the cold by a wool peacoat and ivory scarf. Over one shoulder is slung a slim leather bag, undoubtedly holding some sort of official or at least important document.

"Mister Ibragimov?" And in a moment, Nisha smiles brightly, stepping into the room and ready to extend her hand when the time comes. "It's a pleasure to meet with you."

He glances up from his spot at the table, taking a moment to take another sip of coffee before rising. "I apologise."his voice was smooth and maybe a little lower than you'd normally associate with a fellow this young. He barely looked like he was of drinking age, handsome and athletic. Athletic of course in the way a mountain climber is, or well maybe athletic in the way you expect a pilot would be. He offers his hand immediately, a polite smile comes along for the ride.
He was well dressed of course. Dull grey suit, vest, pants and delicate black pin striping to tie in the black shirt and funeral tie. There was a watch of course, but it was far from a rolex or anything else. His hands likewise were rough, well worked like a man who didnt own an executive airline. "I lost track of time, anyway I am Fedor Ibrigamov. For the purposes of discretion, I will ask you not use that name in reference to me in the future. I'll explain shortly, its a little complicated. Please have a seat, can I get you something? I made some Spinach and bacon souffle a little earlier, its still hot."Stepping across to pull out a chair for you.

With a nod, Nisha accept the instruction. "It's alright," she assures him as she slips out of her coat, draping it and her scarf over her arm and then across her lap when she sits, letting her bag rest on the ground at her side.

"Some water would be lovely, thank you," the attorney responds with a smile, silently passing up the meat dish.

Fedor steps out of the room for a moment, to return with a tall glass of ice water. "Goodness, anyway I apologise for asking you to come all the way out here. I realize its not particularly convient, however I'm undergoing a touch of crisis. You see I'm being sued, by a man who doesnt exist. Rather, well here."He produces a small stack of papers and slides them over. "Theres a very complicated proceedure to buy this company, it included a name change."
The contract was strange, the wording was solid as oak but the requests were bizarre. The a buyer could only purchase the company if he satisfied a particularly exhaustive list of requirements as to the method of its operation. There were also restrictions on who could purchase it in the first place, commercially certified pilots only and they had to consent to a formal name change. "Now the idea I think, in like oh 1991 when that contract was drafted was to deflect lawsuits. The prior owner would change his name, and then depart and on paper the same man would still run the company. You'll see, It stipulates I'm only allowed to have one secretary and no interaction with my own company beyond through written letter, lawyer and a secretary. The problem is, that the contract works very well. So I've got no small number of lawsuits chasing me, I think twenty of them in fact last time I checked. Typical operating things for the industry, I'll let you look over them if you accept. "
"Anyway long story short, I'm using an assumed name. The Bahamas were very accomodating in allowing me to claim citizenship under my original name. I fear however, that even if these people knew I wasnt the real Fedor Ibragimov they wouldnt care. So I'd like you to untangle that mess, and retain your services. Personally and perhaps on a more sweeping level as a part time employee if you and I get along, and you want to take that road."

Cohen, Johnson, Blume, and Kotecha may not be the most prominent or biggest law firm in New York, but that doesn't mean they lack a reputation. They are simply a chest of diamonds hidden among the sands - a well kept secret of the city's elite who have a fair number of skeletons in their closets. Nisha, therefore, feels no need to assure this potential client that her firm would be his best choice. He's already made to move to call them to see him, which means they've made a cut that others have not.

Nisha therefore takes a moment to look over the document, touching one corner of the pages to turn the pages as she lets her dark eyes sweep over each one. "I see," she muses after she's finished, leaning back in her chair and picking up the glass to take a drink. A "Thank you," is offered as a toast, and once refreshed, Nisha returns the glass to the table and folds her hands in her lap.

"I have to say, it is a rather unique way of passing the torch." Nisha tucks her chin as she makes the remark. "I assume this man who doesn't exist is a previous owner?"

Fedor hehs"Thats complicated now."He produces the lawsuits, all of them are thin little things. "Now these over here, these fifteen are legitimate. "termination of services, somone suing him because of the noise of his helicopters outside an airport. Some lady claiming he was operating black helicopters for the govt, you know the standard BS. "These over here however, were filed in the US by a man who claimed to be a whistle blower. Ok whatever, but heres the problem."He produces a death certificate, or rather the xerox of one. The lawyer who filed these suits, did it three years after his death.
"This one claims we were flying assualt gunships in africa to protect diamond minds, this one claims we enguaged in piracy, this one is my personal favorite it claims I participated in arms trading in south africa. Now I have met all the prior owners of this company, and I can assure you not only did they not do these things. I can walk you through it, when we have twenty learjets and the FAA around. I can show you not only where every plane was, but where every pilot was and every bolt on every plane was. Thats not the worst part, the fact the fucker was -dead- is the worst part am I right?"

It all gets very confusing, very quickly, but Nisha knows it is solely because she's lacking some key facts. Nisha's eyes narrow as she glances from the man to the contract on the table. "You're obviously a very intelligent and adroit businessman, sir," she begins, then pauses to purse her lips. "Why don't we do this: have your secretary send us a brief of one of these cases - any one of your choosing - and we'll work up a plan of attack. If you like what you see, we can discuss our futures in more depth." The British Indian smiles, her teeth as dazzling as the pearls at her neck. "After all, you want to make sure you're getting your money's worth. Am I right?"

He waves his hand dismissively "I'm really not, I'm just a pilot with a wierd contract. I'm quite happy to retain your services immediately if you want in, I heard some good things and for obvious reasons I'd rather not spread this around between a whole swath of attorneys. Now if your confident you can help me out, I'd like to enter into a contract and keep you on personal retainer just in case. I didnt enter in to this affair, so I could come out in the public. I am a secretive man by nature, my own employees just think I'm a rich kid who flies for fun. Granted, thats true but I would be personally offended if my real situation were made public. Can I trust you, to ensure this is all confidental?"

"My firm has an iron-clad confidentially policy. I can assure you that even if we don't enter into business together, your information is safe." Nisha clasps her hands in her lap and purses her lips again, taking a moment to think. Something isn't right here, and she isn't sure if more information is worth the cost, considering all the other eggs in her basket at present.

"Would you mind if I took some time to think it over?" Nisha's eyes are narrowed slightly when she asks the question, as if she were unsure of a positive answer. "After all, this week has been rather…complicated for everyone in the area. I'm sure the firm could handle an additional client, but personally, I may have to shift a few things should I decide to take you on myself."

Theres a minor frown, but he nods never the less. "I think one of the prior Ibragimovs may have pissed somone off, I think they're trying to flush him out. When I worked in Alaska, right when I first took over my post there were a number of very strange letters that came to me. "In anycase thats entirely acceptable, in the mean time. "he produces a card from the inside of his jacket and slides it gently across the table beneath a fingertip. Fedor Rochinikev, charter and executive pilot. "The curfew is quite annoying, so if you need a lift call me. Its no cost to me, and frankly the company could use the exposure. Helicopter service has been unaffected by the curfew."

"Thank you," Nisha replies with a grateful nod, taking the card and slipping it into her bag as she stands. She takes a moment to put her coat on, but assures her host she has transportation. "My cab is waiting for me. I think our local law enforcement will understand that people like me can get caught up in their office work, even when they come in on the weekends." Prepared once more for the cold, Nisha extends a hand to Fedor. "Once again, it was a pleasure. I'll be in touch."

February 2nd: Be The Match
February 2nd: Dem Bones
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