Читать книгу Tough Business - Владимир Баранчиков - Страница 11

I remember, somewhere in the mid-seventies, I read with great interest the book «The Hunter» by the Scottish writer John Hunter. The writer was able to vividly describe his adventures in Africa in the late XIX – early XX century in the exotic role of a hunter of large animals – lions, buffaloes, rhinos, elephants and leopards. Later, our well-aimed and courageous shooter became a safari guide for rich people looking for thrills in the wild and hunting big animals. If his client could not shoot or missed, then Hunter could not be mistaken, because this mistake could well cost the lives of himself and his companions. He was and will forever remain the record holder for the number of predators killed, and in whose courage, firmness of character, physical condition and common sense there is no doubt. Although not every reader likes such a craft, but Mr. Hunter expressed a universal truth for any activity, which he established on the basis of his experience.

In any activity, he writes, there are three stages. At the first stage, a person does not know how to do anything, but learns some kind of craft and achieves the first successes. At the second stage, having gained some experience, he often already considers himself an expert who has learned all the secrets of his profession. But this is a delusion, and it is at this stage that he makes serious, and sometimes fatal mistakes. At the third stage, when a person has experienced the second stage, there is a sense of reality, an objective assessment of their skills and possible obstacles, and at this stage the specialist is most effective. Hunter himself almost died at the second stage, overestimating his abilities and getting lost in the center of Africa, and only a miracle saved him – after two days of wandering in the endless impenetrable forests, he stumbled upon a power line support, and a day later he went to a small town.

– I hugged a metal pole and fell to my knees – I cried because I realized that I was saved now, – he wrote.

In the activities of the oil department, everything happened according to the classic Hunter scheme. Two large transactions, which were written about earlier, ended successfully. Our intentions and decisions were balanced – we, the seller and the buyer, two companies, the parties to the contract, insured each other against failures. Planning for further sales began in 1994, and then, instead of the previous cohesive work of the Holding and a thorough inspection of buyers, something absurd began. Each of the managers, believing in his competence, began to sell petroleum products himself, without having sufficient knowledge for that. This concerned both the quality of the goods, and the knowledge of INCOTERMS – the basic concepts and conditions of international trade, and the reliability of potential counterparties. There was a kind of competition, who will sell more and more expensive. The network of intermediaries selling the same as our department was expanding. And the sale of serious volumes and the transaction itself is an intimate matter, here the number of participants can spoil a sweet wedding night: this is not only my opinion, but, obviously, there were others. It is possible that someone’s pride was infringed here – he can, but why not me? And off it went…

The first bell rang back in December 1993. While I was working on fuel oil, Viktor Vasilyevich personally sold two thousand tons of diesel fuel to a St. Petersburg buyer. As it turned out, neither he nor the buyer had a deep knowledge of the specifics, and as a result of the contract, summer diesel fuel was shipped, which was prohibited from receiving at this time of year in St. Petersburg. Realizing this too late, the buyer diverted the entire train to Chechnya, where, according to him, he «disappeared», and was called to negotiations, and in fact to disassembly, to the Holding. Khazir Daudovich, after listening to all this, retorted:

– In Chechnya, my fuel cannot be lost, – and sentenced the buyer – a brave young officer of one of the special services – to compensation for losses.

– We will have to sell the apartment… – the debtor declared in his heart. To finish with this story, I will briefly tell you how events unfolded further. Having suffered, the officer wrote a statement to the prosecutor’s office about extortion, and thereby made the second wrong step. The prosecutor’s office tried in vain to reach the defendant, who was rarely on the spot and often abroad. Having felt the situation, the businessman realized the mistake, withdrew the application and then worked with our company on special conditions – repelled debts.

In the last days of December, Gorchakov calls me from the refinery and nervously asks where to apply for a license? I mean, to which country – Latvia, Belarus or somewhere else. I had no answer, the question was not discussed and hung in the air, at the management level (of course, with our participation), was not discussed and was not resolved.

– And where are Khazir and Oleg?!

– I don’t know…

And I shouldn’t have known. Actually, it was not uncommon for our leaders to mysteriously disappear when they were really needed – just like this time. I remember there was a conversation with Oleg Borisovich about the purchase price of diesel fuel for Latvia, the idea of the price from Konechim was about one hundred and sixty dollars per ton, but reliable. This option was rejected, and nothing new was invented. After the New Year holidays, an instruction was received from the bosses – prepare a contract for diesel fuel for Belarus, we will give the details of the supplier’s company later. And look for buyers in the same place.

The main principle was violated here – first step is the buyer, and then the destination country. Having issued a license for the sale of a mythical merchant in Belarus and giving up Latvia, where everything was transparent and reliable, we ourselves, figuratively speaking, threw a noose around our neck. I must admit that I could not find buyers from the Slavic brothers, no matter how hard I tried. It is difficult to find a black cat in a dark room, that is, the demand for diesel fuel, especially when it is not there – Belarus has its own two oil refineries – in Mozyr and Novopolotsk. As a result, at the command from above, the details of the shipment were changed more than once, as I learned later – from some intermediary, and the delivery itself was made without prepayment under unclear guarantees, the fuel was drained at oil depots in Gomel and Rechitsa. This problematic contract also became mine. I tried to sell diesel fuel on the spot to another consumer, but our contractors rudely stopped these attempts and threatened me on the phone, something about the integrity of my head. I immediately called Khazir Daudovich and explained the situation face to face. Ten minutes later, my rude interlocutor from Gomel apologized profoundly and expressed the opinion that I misunderstood him. In general, someone created a problem, and now I have to figure it out: this was within the competence of my salary. But the main disadvantage is that the style of work has been changed, money has been withdrawn from circulation, and precious time and mutual understanding are being lost.

The day after tomorrow I was already in Gomel. As expected, the buyer company consisted of local young guys, and absolutely did not correspond to the level of purchase. Their office consisted of a large room of thirty square meters, a couple of computers, a large TV, and a rented Volga-3102 car with a driver, that’s all the assets. Yes, two young girls in short dresses also came, they asked for money, which means liabilities. An intermediary also came, but I did not contact him because of mutual rejection. I asked the director when he would pay, but he said that they had no money now. To clarify, we went to the Gomel oil depot, to which these businessmen stuck, to the boss. We walked around the offices, I asked around the clerks there, and it became clear that the oil depot had almost paid off with these guys. Having improved the moment, I tete-a-tete in the boss’s office offered to pay us directly, but what he wisely replied:

– You will leave, but I will live here.

As a result, an addendum was born to the contract on the terms of payment, where Belarusians paid us the debt with interest for the delay. With this I returned to St. Petersburg. The counter was turned on.

During my business trip, my colleagues didn’t waste any time. Sergey put on a mysterious look and said that he and Oleg Borisovich had made a mighty contract for diesel fuel in the amount of ten thousand tons with delivery to Moldova. It was incorrect for me to ask questions, but gradually it turned out that everything was cool, the price was between 191 and 192 dollars, payment upon delivery to the Chadyr-Lunga station, and there is a guarantor for payment.

– I’d like to see this guarantor, – I thought.

I don’t know how Khazir Daudovich turned on the green light for this deal, I think he doubted, but he didn’t want to quarrel with Oleg Borisovich, because everything could have turned out well… This mythical profit overshadowed someone’s mind, and someone probably made a subtle calculation on this, but from which side of the transaction and to what extent? It also turned out that the refinery could not ship the goods without paying for transit through Ukraine, problems with the bank began, but they were still shipped. The result is this: we did not receive the promised money, the goods disappeared, and the intermediary disappeared along with the buyer. I don’t know how they dealt with it at the top, but we ended up owing a large sum to the supplier plant, which made further shipments difficult – our business stopped. The recent triumphants have been defeated. About five years later, a smart and personable, handsome middle-aged man named Movladi, a relative of the president, came to my office. In careful conversations (no one introduced us to each other, but I heard about his high reputation), we recalled the past, and I made it clear that I knew about the deal with Moldova and the Chadyr-Lunga station was like a sharp thorn in my memory. He, in turn, shared with me:

– I was there, but I didn’t find anything.

To relieve the tension, I said with a smile:

– I have an alibi – at that time I was in Belarus…

Undoubtedly, he was aware of our major transactions and understood what I mean.