Saboteur Read online

  SABOTEUR

  RV RAMAN

  First published in 2017 by Hachette India

  (Registered name: Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd)

  An Hachette UK company

  www.hachetteindia.com

  This ebook published in 2017

  Copyright © 2017 RV Raman

  RV Raman asserts the moral right to be identified as the proprietor of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system (including but not limited to computers, disks, external drives, electronic or digital devices, e-readers, websites), or transmitted in any form or by any means (including but not limited to cyclostyling, photocopying, docutech or other reprographic reproductions, mechanical, recording, electronic, digital versions) without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Print edition ISBN 978-93-5195-076-9

  Ebook edition ISBN: 978-93-5195-077-6

  Cover design by Ideaspice

  Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd

  4th/5th Floors, Corporate Centre,

  Sector 44, Gurgaon 122003, India

  Typeset in 10.5/14 Minion Pro by SÜRYA, New Delhi

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  BENGALURU, OCTOBER 2016

  Nilay glanced impatiently at the young man in the glass-walled discussion room. At last! The furious, often frantic, rummaging through files for the past hour had finally given way to quiet contemplation. Puneet was now leaning back in his chair, thoughtfully chewing his pencil and considering whatever he had scribbled on his writing pad.

  The glass enclosure that served as the ‘data room’ contained all the information Puneet’s team needed for the due-diligence exercise it was performing. In this secure room were all the financial and operational details of MyMagicHat, the sixth largest online retailer in India and one of the early unicorns after Flipkart and Snapdeal. Nilay was the Senior Vice President and the virtual Number Two of this three-billion-dollar e-tailer.

  MyMagicHat was on the verge of embarking on something large and unprecedented: an audacious project code-named ‘Project Iskan’ that was shrouded in secrecy – to the extent that only a handful of men knew it in its entirety. What the people at MyMagicHat saw was only a part of it; they knew that their company was raising fresh funds. Series H – the eighth round of funding – was in its final stages. Kantoff Capital, a Singapore-based private equity firm, was about to invest $250 million in MyMagicHat. The valuation had been agreed on and the deal was only awaiting the completion of the due-diligence exercise – DD for short – that Puneet was in the process of wrapping up.

  The past year had been a dizzying journey for the e-tailer. Riding on deep discounts and hard-to-resist offers, it had drawn customers like a magnet and doubled sales volume every few months. It was burning cash so rapidly that it required frequent cash infusions to stay in the race. Each infusion was preceded by a DD.

  The French private equity fund that had invested $250 million in April had completed its DD within a day. Their team had been as interested in exploring Bengaluru’s pubs as in examining MyMagicHat’s books.

  But this round was turning out differently. Puneet – Kantoff’s retail industry specialist and a senior manager – seemed bent on going through every tiny detail. So much so that the expected two-day formality had stretched into four long days. Nilay had taken a liking to this diligent young man who had not stinted on the hours of work – twelve to fourteen – he had put in on each of those four days despite his team leaving early.

  It had emerged on the second evening that Puneet was cynical of e-tailer valuations. The current valuation of three billion dollars, he had candidly stated over beer, was absurd. A company that spent two and a half rupees to earn one rupee was not one to be invested in, whatever be its future potential.

  Nilay had offered no comment. If investors were willing to pay big money for a slice of his company, why should he argue over it? He owed his career growth to venture capitalists who had pumped in inordinate amounts of money into the sector. In any case, Puneet was not the decision maker at Kantoff; the call would be taken by the partners of Kantoff Capital. However, as the retail industry specialist, he could raise awkward questions, which had to be answered to his satisfaction for him to sign off on the DD report. Unless he did, the DD could not be completed.

  As Nilay watched through his rectangular rimless glasses, Puneet rose from his chair and began speaking animatedly into his mobile, gesturing with his free arm and pacing the data room. Though Nilay couldn’t hear what was being said he could tell that Puneet was in the midst of a heated argument with somebody. Nilay sighed and decided to give him some more time before prodding him to wrap up for the day.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a small-built figure at his open cabin door. Sundar, MyMagicHat’s CFO, entered and quietly closed the glass door behind him. In an office culture where doors were seldom shut, this act was as suggestive of trouble brewing as the worry lines on Sundar’s face.

  ‘Problem, Sundar?’ Nilay asked.

  The CFO nodded. He dropped into a chair across the desk and took a deep breath. ‘We’re running out of cash.’

  Nilay’s eyes narrowed. ‘Already? I thought we were good till February.’

  ‘We were, but no longer. What with our September sales coming in 20 per cent to 30 per cent above projections, the losses have climbed far more steeply than anticipated.’

  ‘Still, I thought we had space in the budget for that.’

  Sundar shook his head. ‘Only at the budgeted burn rate, Nilay. Average discounts have been higher and our new policy of price matching has driven net realizations down by 10–15 per cent.’

  ‘That much?’ Nilay’s eyebrows shot up.

  Sundar nodded glumly. ‘The higher losses have burnt through our cash 50 per cent faster than projected. Not only have they depleted our war chest more rapidly, but the higher burn rate means that whatever is left will last for a fewer number of weeks.’

  Nilay felt light-headed. This was not the first time they were facing a cash crunch. The unbridled growth of the past two years had brought the company perilously close to a shutdown at least twice before – a familiar nightmare for any start-up.

  But that was no excuse to be caught unawares. The prick of annoyance Nilay felt within was growing. Sundar should have seen this coming. Nilay’s mandate was to grow sales as rapidly as he could. Faster, if possible. He had done his job; others had to do theirs too. It was the CFO’s as well as the promoters’ responsibility to ensure that cash continued to flow in.

  ‘How did this happen so suddenly?’ he demanded querulously.

  Sundar squirmed in his seat,
looking miserable. ‘Honestly, it’s taken me by surprise too. But the September sales have punched a massive hole in our finances.’

  Nilay stroked his clean-shaven upper lip for a moment and decided not to vent his ire on his colleague.

  ‘Have you drilled down into the losses to find where we are bleeding?’ he asked.

  ‘As much as our finance system will allow. But that doesn’t show much.’

  ‘How long will our cash last?’

  ‘Probably till mid or end December,’ Sundar said. ‘Unless we raise more funds, 2017 won’t be a happy new year for us.’

  ‘December!’ Frustration rose in Nilay like bile. ‘After we’ve worked so hard to win market share? Holy shit, man! We’ve fought tooth and nail! When we finally get traction in the market, we run out of money! You must find money from somewhere. A bridge loan or something.’

  ‘Me? Better speak to Gautam. But I’m not sure whether the group will bail us out again.’

  MyMagicHat was a part of the huge Puraria Group, which had interests in several industries, including retail. It was the newest member of the group’s retail strategic business unit – SBU – the mainstay of which comprised a chain of 176 stores across the country and a centralized procurement and sourcing function. MyMagicHat had been set up by the youngest Puraria scion – Gautam – to take advantage of the e-commerce boom.

  ‘This is a terrible time for a cash crunch, Sundar,’ Nilay grumbled. ‘Absolutely terrible. We need cash desperately.’

  ‘Let’s pray that the Kantoff deal comes through by the month end,’ Sundar responded dourly. ‘What I came in to tell you was that Gautam wants to meet us at 9 a.m. tomorrow to discuss the cash crunch. He has cancelled all his morning meetings.’

  Nilay nodded irritably.

  ‘A funny business we’re in,’ Sundar quipped, standing up. ‘The better we do, the more we bleed and the higher are our chances of a sudden death.’

  ‘Nature of the e-commerce beast, my friend. We’ll survive this trial by fire to rake in the moolah.’ Nilay flashed his skeptical colleague a reassuring smile. ‘We’ll see it to the finish line. Just wait and watch.’

  ‘You know something, Nilay? The Purarias have never lost money. Never ever. My father worked for old man Puraria all his life. He says that the man is far too smart to lose money. The family prides itself on this ability; it is their hallmark that they always find a way to recover their money – by hook or by crook. But I fear they may have bitten off more than they can chew this time. Their investment in MyMagicHat is already gone, burnt. We’re surviving on the money invested by others. If this venture fails, it will be a first for the proud Purarias…and a slap in the old man’s face. Gautam’s name will be uttered with shame by the family.’

  Having delivered his pronouncement, Sundar glided out soundlessly, leaving Nilay frustrated and frowning. How fragile this business was! He had taken delight in the success of his marketing and brand-building efforts of the past few months. Though he hadn’t acknowledged it to anyone but his wife, the sales had been markedly higher than his own expectations. He had hidden his surprise and basked in the glow of success during the management meetings.

  This year promised to be a stellar one for him, exactly the kind he needed for his next move – that of becoming the CEO of a big-league e-tailer. He was not going to let the cash crunch spoil it. If he delivered industry-leading growth for the third consecutive year, the right offers would come. Competitors and investors were watching the unicorn. And him.

  He glanced at his watch and rose resolutely from his desk. It was well past 10 p.m. – high time that Puneet wound up his precious DD. They had to move forward and close the deal in the next few days.

  But had Puneet finished his work? Nilay couldn’t leave the office until he had locked the data room.

  As the five-foot-ten, elegantly dressed Nilay strode towards the glass-enclosed data room and glanced in, a frown puckered his brow. Was Puneet suddenly looking tense? He had finished his call and returned to his chair. But there was something rigid about his bearing now and he was staring fixedly at his laptop screen, his mouth partially open, as if he had noticed something completely unexpected.

  Abruptly, Puneet rose again, snatched up his mobile phone and began dialling. As he finished dialling, he turned at the sound of Nilay opening the door and held up two fingers, with an apologetic nod at the other man. Two minutes.

  Leaving the door open as a reminder that it was time to go, Nilay went back to his desk to pack up.

  Puneet’s voice came through the open door. ‘Hi, Vikram. Will you be up for some more time? I wanted to discuss something important with you… Yes, I’m at the office… Nilay is here too… No, no! We’re about to pack up… Yes, Vikram, it’s very important… I need to discuss it tonight so that you can –’

  The conversation seemed to have broken off mid-sentence. Nilay cast a backward glance at the room. Puneet had shut the door. As Nilay slid his laptop into his bag, his thoughts went to the man at the other end of the phone line.

  Vikram Deswani, Kantoff Capital’s sole partner in India, would not be amused. He had come down from Mumbai for a final meeting with MyMagicHat that should have lasted no longer than a couple of hours. Instead, he had found himself staying on for two full days and cancelling all his Mumbai meetings. All thanks to Puneet’s doggedness. Piqued, Vikram had given the young man an ultimatum that morning: he was to complete the DD by that very night.

  Nilay and Puneet went down together and parted ways as the former headed for the basement parking lot, while the other man walked out into the wet October night. When Nilay drove out of the basement a minute later, Puneet was standing at the kerb, peering at his mobile phone.

  ‘Can I give you a ride?’ Nilay asked, pulling up at the kerb and rolling down a window.

  ‘Thanks, but don’t bother.’ Puneet gave him a distracted smile and shook his head. ‘A car is on its way.’

  ‘Why wait on the street alone at this time of the night, Puneet? It’s no problem for me to drop you off, really. It’s not much of a detour for me.’

  ‘Don’t worry. The car is just a few minutes away. Goodnight, Nilay.’

  He stepped back and looked away. The message was clear.

  ‘Goodnight, Puneet. See you tomorrow.’

  As Nilay drove away, wondering why the man was so reluctant to ride with him, he swept the deserted street with a glance. Puneet had stopped fiddling with his mobile phone and was looking at Nilay’s car as it receded into the distance. There was a van and an SUV parked about fifty yards away. No one else was in sight.

  Chapter 2

  Nilay hurried into the office early next morning, intending to review his budget before the meeting with Gautam and the rest of the management team. The cash crunch couldn’t have come at a worse time for him; a mega-sale weekend was scheduled for early next month.

  That sale was one of the three major events of the year; a high-budget event for which planning and mobilization had been under way for weeks. Print-media space and TV slots had been booked, advertisements were almost ready and a digital blitzkrieg was in the stage of finalization. Product sellers and logistics operators were on board, and data centres were augmenting servers and bandwidth.

  All these arrangements had been arrived at after intense negotiations in which he had thrown in his share of threats and promises. Now if he found himself unable to pay the bills… He shuddered at the prospect. It would be a disaster of a scale he preferred not to contemplate. A disaster not only for MyMagicHat, but for his career too. And if word leaked out that they were cash-strapped, the media would go to town with the news and all the meticulous brand-building would come to naught. Coming on top of the bad press about e-tailers shutting shop due to lack of funds, it might well be a knockout punch for the unicorn. They would end up ceding market share to the competition on a platter.

  Worst of all, it could sabotage Project Iskan. It could kill it.

  After tossing in bed
for a couple of hours, wondering how they had been caught unawares, Nilay had drifted into fitful sleep. One thing was clear – word of the cash crunch must not leak out.

  Now, as he pushed open the door and entered the office, he paused in surprise. People were in so early? He cast a quick glance at the clock. Seldom did the head-office staff report for work at 8 a.m. The Whitefield operations centre was different, as it had teams working round the clock. But the head-office folks preferred to stay late rather than come in early.

  The large conference room – glass-walled like the other rooms – was open, and Nilay could see three men walking around in it purposefully. With the blinds partially drawn over the glass walls, Nilay couldn’t make out who they were. His curiosity piqued, he dropped off his laptop bag in his cabin and made his way to the conference room. As he approached it, he recognized one of the men inside from his tall, striking physique: Gautam Puraria.

  ‘What –’ he began as he reached the door, but fell silent when Gautam motioned for him to be quiet.

  One man was bending over the large central table, holding out a black, box-shaped device with two thick antennae, a couple of LEDs and a small dial. The other man probed the far wall with a long rod which had a small disk at its tip. Attached to a box at the other end was a pair of headphones which the man was wearing. The contraption looked like a metal detector, the kind Nilay had seen in movies.

  His chiselled features set in grim lines, Gautam stepped out of the conference room, took Nilay silently by the elbow and led him to his own cabin. He closed the door and gestured to a small tray on his desk. On the soft black cloth lining of the tray were four thin, cylindrical objects made of metal and plastic, less than an inch long and no thicker than a ballpoint pen refill.

  ‘What are they?’ Nilay asked, after staring at them for a few moments.

  ‘Guess.’

  Nilay picked one up and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. It was light, far too light to be made of solid metal. From one end sprouted a pair of very thin wires a few millimetres long. It resembled an electronic component from an old radio; except that it was far smaller, sleeker and more polished. Nilay shook his head.