Business Doctors - Management Consulting Gone Wild (19 page)

“Yes!” The response from the group was resounding, loud and confident.

Schneider repeated his question, only louder “I didn’t hear you. Do you want to earn your respect back?”

This time the response was louder than before.

“Let’s roll then. We need ideas that’ll help us raise money. Put down the first thing that generally comes to your mind if you need money. You have ten minutes to fill up your sticky notes and then we’ll regroup.”

With this Schneider moved back and let the group get
started. A few got down to business immediately. Gabriel spent a few minutes scratching his head and then peeked around to see if he could get some ideas.

After ignoring him for a few minutes, Schneider said, “They have to be your ideas, Gabriel.”

“Sorry,” Gabriel said sheepishly, not knowing if he’d have to stand outside the room while the rest of his buddies continued the activity. “Like they say you learn to cycle once, you never forget it in your life. This is how I’ve always cycled, till the fourth grade. Then I dropped out. Old habits die hard, you know.”

“Well, the difference is, we aren’t grading you here. So don’t worry about failing. Write down whatever comes to your mind.”

After the ten minutes were over, Schneider announced, “Alright folks, time’s up. Bullet, will you please help collect the sticky notes”.

Once Schneider had all the notes, he started going through them with the group to involve them completely in the process.

“Alex here has put down Banks. That’s good, Alex. And I see, six others have written down the same idea. Let’s write that down, shall we?” Schneider gestured to Bullet. He was happy to see that Alex, after a rocky start, was now contributing to the team.

“Let’s see what else we’ve got. Umm….
Uncle Jose
! Could someone explain this to me?” a quizzical look came on Schneider’s face.

Gabriel spoke up, almost reluctantly, as if he didn’t want the rest of the group to know his little secret. “Uncle Jose has always kept his doors open for me. Anytime I wanted money, he has been there for me,” By the time Gabriel finished the sentence, his voice was almost choking with emotion.

Schneider shook his head. “Gentlemen, we need practical ideas here. We are looking at a huge amount and we need to find out ways to reach our target.”

Gabriel seemed a little disappointed. “I thought you said we write down all ideas that are proposed without slamming them down.”

“Ok, I apologize Gabriel, for breaking the rule. Bullet, can you please write it down.” Schneider realized his faux pas.

“Sure, why not. Uncle Ho-zay,” Bullet repeated the Spanish name to ensure she got it right. “That’s with a J, right?”

Schneider turned to the rest of the group. “I hope most of you kept in mind the amount and also the time that we have for this. Let’s go again. Kidnapping, now that’s another favorite in the team. It gets nine votes.”

Bullet added another option with its count to the whiteboard.

Schneider also wondered if it was appropriate for him to sound so enthusiastic and thrilled when a bunch of escaped convicts was making unlawful propositions to him. The initial dilemma about whether he was crossing the thin line between purely advising and becoming part of the criminal activities around him didn’t play on his mind full-time as before. However it did pop up once in a while, especially when this assignment started going in a direction he hadn’t thought about before. It was now breaking new ground in terms of the expanded scope and altered course. He felt he had come too far into this game anyway, so backing out at this stage would not give him any brownie points in the professional ethics department. He had got into this after giving it enough thought, he had taken the risk of jumping into the unknown and now he had to take this story to its logical end before bidding adieu to his clients.

“Cash registers in supermarkets, malls, shops, bars…” It was Gabriel again.

Schneider had half a mind to ask him to go for a walk and return only after the session concluded, but decided not to interrupt the flow. Bullet religiously noted down the idea.

The group continued and put down several ideas with clear winners and losers. Schneider opened up the floor, to get more juice out of the exercise. “Let’s see if there are any new ideas that you guys missed in those ten minutes. Maybe there are a few precious ones we’ve left out.”

“Could we steal…diamonds…antiques…paintings?” Kenny pitched in.

“What about filthy rich guys…maybe we could do something with them. I’m not sure what, but they’d definitely have shitloads of what we need,” Alex suggested.

The suggestions flew in fast.

“Cars? Sports Cars? The expensive ones?”

“Credit cards!”

Bullet was having a hard time keeping pace jotting down the ideas. “Hey hey hey…slow down guys. There’s no more space on our whiteboard.”

Schneider, who had stepped back to allow the group the liberty to drive the proceedings, entered into the group again and raised his hand. “Alright, group. That was good. We have enough ideas to work with now. Let us take this to the next level now. We can’t obviously go with all of them. Our objective now is to narrow this list down to two, or three or at the most five ideas that we agree to execute.”

“How would you say we do that?” enquired Jason.

“We ask ourselves if each of these options will allow us to raise a considerable huge amount before our deadline? By considerable, I’d say anything over five hundred grand. We also ask ourselves what skills we’d need to execute that idea and if we have it within the group.”

“What if we don’t have the skills within this group?” Ryan Logan wanted to know.

“Then we look for alternatives,” said Schneider

“What do you mean,
alternatives
?”

Schneider did what he did when he did not have a clear straight-forward answer to a question. He played down the criticality of the question.

“Let’s not worry about that for now. If we arrive at such a situation, we’ll talk about it. No point in getting into theoretical discussions where there is no immediate need. Would you agree?”

“Yup.”

The discussions continued late into the evening. The group had now moved to discussing the pros and cons of each option that was listed on the whiteboard.

Ryan was playing the devil’s advocate. “The security in and around banks has been beefed up. There have been far too many attempts of late, mostly failed attempts. The guys who managed to evade the bullets and the police to pull off the perfect heist were still pissed off. They felt the fruits of
their labor were worth far less than the efforts they’d put in. All in all, not such an attractive option, I’d say.”

“You got any other ideas, whiz kid?” Alex, who had proposed the bank idea, asked Ryan.

“Well, yes. I have another proposal,” Ryan’s comments heightened the anticipation in the room. “We’ll get the money from the bank, without going in. And we’ll get more money than those successful but dim-witted sons of bitches who stormed in with a mini-army and wasted a whole lot of bullets. The newspapers treated them like macho heroes.” 

“Sure!” Alex couldn’t, or rather did not want to, believe what he was hearing. “So you get the dough without going into the bank? And would you also ask the branch manager to come out to give you a blowjob before you leave with his money?”

“Can’t promise you that last one, buddy? I’ll let you negotiate your exit strategies on a one-on-one basis. All I can say is, we’ll get the money.”

“Let’s be serious here, guys,” Schneider interjected, worried that Alex might go back to his original ways. “We have a lot of work to do. Ryan, if you’ve got something really worth discussing -”

“I do,” Ryan jumped in before Schneider could complete his sentence. “Give me a day more to figure out the details. For now let’s leave
bank
on the whiteboard.”

Schneider shrugged. “Ok. Fair enough. Anyone else got anything to propose?”

“What about kidnapping? The filthy rich guys that Alex talked about. Can’t we pick up a few and demand a ransom for their release?” Bullet wanted to know.

Schneider stood up shaking his head. “The risk-to-reward ratio there isn’t too encouraging. Working out the logistics, carrying out the kidnapping, negotiating the ransom and actually getting the money in exchange for the
person can be one heck of a challenge. Again, like bank robberies, the track record for kidnappings in the US hasn’t been worth talking about. Kidnappings do happen and are in fact a primary revenue stream for many gangs operating outside the US. But managing such a complex operation remotely from here may not be an option worth pursuing.”

Schneider had done his homework in a few areas that he felt would come up during the brainstorming session.

“But all that data only relates to kidnappings for ransom. We could however consider picking up a few of those loaded guys and carry out other operations. The kidnapping itself will be more like a facilitation tool.”

Realising that his last comments may end up confusing the group, he added, “Let’s keep this on the backburner for now.”

Schneider called up Martin who had refused to be part of the brainstorming session. “Hey there. Yup, we’re done with the session. Before you sign off for the day, do remember to give a call to our trusted old friend…Blizzard. We’ll need her help again.”

Chapter 17

Kenny Krannert waited in the truck impatiently. The name
Kaching’s
displayed prominently white on the all-black sides of the bullet-proof truck. The chunky front grill and side bars gave the truck a rugged and serious look.
Kaching’s
was one of the premier providers of security services in the country. Its main clients were banks, jewelers and mints. Its primary job was to transport valuable goods – cash, diamonds, gold, and such other valuables – within and across cities. The task list for the day included picking up cash from various branches of a leading bank and transporting it to the main branch. Kenny had already made stopovers at seven branches and he knew he could’ve taken off anytime he wanted. He had been on and off the freeway and had felt the temptation to finish the operation several times earlier. There was enough cash back in the truck, though he had no clue how much it could possibly be. Making more stopovers meant the money he was carrying could go up as well -
could
, not
would
, because there were pick-ups and there were drops en route. The complete schedule, right from the first stop to the last, was pre-defined. But as the driver, Kenny had no clue how much money would be in the vehicle at any point of time. He also couldn’t risk completing the entire journey.  He had to escape when he was closest to one of the freeways. Kenny knew there was always a risk of hitting the escape button too early and reaching home to realize he should’ve been more patient. He recalled Schneider’s spiel on planning. Kenny was not expected to use his brains for thinking and planning. Someone from his team had been nominated to do that on his behalf. After a lot of boring hours fine-tuning the strategy, that someone had come up with this wonderful proposal of waiting for exactly eight stops, before slamming on the gas pedal and getting the hell out of the city. This was the eighth stop for Kenny, somewhere mid-way in the regular pick-up and drop schedule for the vehicle. But for Kenny, it was the final one. While he waited outside in the vehicle, his two colleagues, regular employees of
Kaching’s
, were inside the bank.

Kenny kept looking at his watch. It had been only ten minutes, but it seemed like an hour. “It’s amazing how time flies when you are having fun,” he muttered to himself. “C’mon guys, get back in here…fast.”

Kenny’s prayers were answered.  He heard a knock on the window.

“Open her up,” said the guard. Kenny unlocked the door. The second colleague got into the truck from the rear and made himself comfortable. The other went around the truck and sat in front, next to Kenny.

“Let’s head back home, shall we?” the guard said to Kenny.

“With pleasure, sir,” Kenny turned the ignition key and backed up the truck slowly onto the main street.

Within minutes he was on the freeway again.

“You doing okay in there, buddy?” Kenny peeked into the rear of the truck from the small window. The second guard sitting
at the back nodded. He was on the floor with his legs spread out and using one of the bags as a backrest. There was a small light just enough to provide basic illumination.

Kenny closed the window, pulled out a gun and held it against the first guard’s temple. “Open the door and jump!” Kenny ordered in a low voice.

“What -”

“Open the fuckin’ door and jump.”

“Do you know what you are doing? I can’t let you do it, dude. You’ll have to shoot me first.” Kenny’s neighbor hoped this was a bad joke.

The door on the other side was too far off for Kenny to reach. Kenny opened his door and held it there with his foot. “You’re crazy! Are
you
going to jump too?”

In the fraction of a second, Kenny let go off the steering wheel, released the guard’s seat belt, used both hands to pull the guard towards him and flung him from the open door.

The guard flew out of the door and landed hard on the ground. Instincts taking over, while Kenny was pulling him towards the open door, he had reached for his Beretta, tucked away in his quick-release holster. By the time he was being flung out, he had taken aim, and right on impact, fired three quick rounds at the truck, just as he had been trained to do years ago. He landed on his side, with his right shoulder taking the impact, causing him to roll violently. A couple of the shots hit the truck and ricocheted off the thick sheet-metaled bullet-proof exterior. As Kenny was getting back to normal driving position, and beginning to smile at a job well done, the vehicle started tilting to the left and his steering went out of control.

“Damn!” screamed out Kenny. The final bullet had had its way into the front tire.

Hearing the commotion, the second guard started knocking on the window, “Hey, what’s going on out there?”

Kenny reached into his pocket, pulled out a small cylindrical can and opened the window. “Not much. Your friend wanted me to shoot him and I just couldn’t. I’m too much of a softy for that. So I bailed him out.”

Kenny hit the can against the metal wall to release the contents and dropped it inside the window. Before the thick smoke from the can could come out, he locked the window again and continued to drive. The straight stretch of road was going to end soon and he’d need both his hands on the steering wheel to keep the wobbly mess that his truck now was, in control.

A few minutes later, another truck caught up with Kenny in the adjacent lane.  The concerned driver screamed out at Kenny, “Hey! There’s smoke coming from the truck. You might want to stop and have a look.”

“Naah,” Kenny screamed back. “It’s standard procedure. We fumigate the cash before putting it back into circulation. Thanks for being an alert citizen.”

The other driver smiled, gave Kenny a thumbs-up and sped away.

Kenny was glad the
alert citizen
hadn’t glanced at the flat tire. The smoke had diverted his attention. But that didn’t end Kenny’s woes. He was having a tough time getting the truck to move in a straight line. His luck soon ran out and he had to turn right to get on to a small bridge. As soon as he got on to the bridge, he spun out of control, crashed into the thin railings on the left and went hurtling into the water below.

* * *

Back at the WFB office, Schneider waited for Blizzard with Joe for company. “Hey Schneider, I bet she’ll be here any minute. Very punctual. You could set your watch by her schedule. Ah, there she is.” Joe mused, still unable to comprehend why they needed Blizzard now. He was hoping Schneider was not going to generate another list and ask his boss to blow off another five million.

Blizzard opened the door and walked in slowly towards them, “Hulloo, my dears. How are you?”

“Doing good. How about yourself?”

“I’m keeping well, considering my youthful age. Thank you for asking,” Blizzard responded politely in her usual soft tone. “The creaking bones are holding up just fine. Winters can be particularly bad on the joints. I like this season, though. Not too warm, not too cold.”

“How’s your flower shop doing?”

“It’s doing ok. Too bad that the new generation hasn’t discovered the joys and the simple pleasures of life. Everyone wants expensive gifts and electronic toys nowadays. They prefer artificial perfumes to natural fragrance. But I have my regular customers. So I am not complaining.”

“Maybe you should join us. Life on this side would be more exciting and rewarding.”

“I like my independence, dear. At my age, the lesser the excitement, the better it is for me. Patrons like you provide me with my intermittent doses of excitement. One shouldn’t be too greedy.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Well, you know why we’ve invited you over,” Schneider’s statement was delivered more like a question.

“A little, but I can’t depend too much on my gut feel alone. All I can feel in my guts now is the prune juice I had in the morning and it’s not a very pleasant feeling. So it would be nice if you could throw more light on it.”

“You pointed out that greed is bad. But our client is from the Gordon Gekko school of thought…”

“Gordon who?” Joe interrupted, and then woefully added. “Man, you are one lucky dude. In all these years, Boss never talked to us about his schooling.”

“No, I meant…Never mind.” Schneider turned back to Blizzard. “He believes that greed is good and he’s now facing the consequences. We’ve agreed to bail him out of another new situation that he’
s gotten himself into. We need your help in, er, raising some funds.”

Schneider waited for Blizzard to dig deeper into the whys and whats of the story.

“How much?” Blizzard didn’t seem interested in the background story and came straight to the point.

“Six million dollars.”

“Wow! That’s a lot of money. I’ve never done anything this big before. So I can’t promise you anything. All I can say is, I’ll try…for a five percent commission and zero liabilities if anything goes wrong.”

“Five percent! Blizzard, give me a break. Just a minute back you were explaining to me how greed is destroying our civilization. I was thinking more like two percent?”

“I know. But I also have to build my savings. At this age, no insurance company will cover me for health. Three percent and that’s final. It’ll give me an incentive to do my best. The more you get, the better it is for me.”

“You are a tough negotiator, Blizzard. Ok. Done.” Schneider closed the deal.

“Good. We can get down to business then,” said Blizzard.

“You got any ideas on how you want to do this?” Joe blurted out finally after patiently listening to the conversation that wasn’t making much sense.

“Hmm, if I had been aware of this request before coming over, I could’ve done some thinking. But let’s see,” Blizzard thought for a while. “Do you know the difference between rounding off and truncating?”

“Nope, can’t say that I do,” said Joe. He turned to Schneider. “But I do know the difference between jerking off and fornicating,” he whispered and let out a loud snort.

Schneider was more interested to hear what Blizzard had in mind. “Well, they are two ways of converting fractions to integers. Rounding off takes the fraction to the closest integer. So 2.3 becomes 2.0 and 2.6 becomes 3.0. The process of truncation just drops the decimal part. So 2.3 and 2.6 after truncating will both become 2.0,” Schneider shared what he knew.

Blizzard smiled. “You know your computing theories well, son.” Her statement did not sound condescending. It was more like a pat on the back for Schneider. She turned back to Joe, “- and we are going to make use of this small detail.”

Seeing Joe’s nonplussed expression, Blizzard continued.

“You see, banks run billions of online transactions where money moves from one account to another. Some of these transactions are for a few dollars while the rest run into millions. In almost all these cases, the underlying software uses either rounding off or truncations in some form. Rounding off is a preferred option as it averages out the bias, so to say. So in the long run, neither the bank nor the customer is at an undue disadvantage. Are you with me so far?”

Joe still had his devil may care, blank face expression on. “I am still here, lady. But I have no clue where you have gone. As long as our man here understands, we are all good.” He pointed at Schneider.

Blizzard continued. “What we are going to try is to change this logic from rounding off to truncation and siphon off the few cents to a separate account. The impact on individual transactions will be minimal. So the customer
doesn’t complain. However, across transactions, the overall collections in our secret little account can become quite substantial. By the way, Joe, do you like Salami?”

Joe’s mouth watered like a dog’s, and he blurted out – “Oh yeah, Salami tops freakin’ burgers any day – my favorite!”

“Well then,” continued Blizzard, “it might interest you to know that people in my world call our little technique of siphoning small bits of money
Salami Shaving
, and,” she now directed her words to Schneider, “in your world, they call it
Penny Shaving
. You cannot imagine how creative we people – those that exist only in the shadows in our murky world – can be.” On being tutored on standard nomenclature in his world, Schneider felt a hint of embarrassment. The seasoned consultant that he was, he camouflaged it well.

Switching gears, she continued, “There is however a small problem. We’ll need a specific account in a country that is friendly with money of all colors.”

Spotting the opportunity to take the leading position again, Schneider butted in, “I’ll see what we can do about that. Let me check with my contacts”.

He knew that a certain dressed-to-kill angel with a chandelier-to-die-for would know what to do. But he still had his doubts about what he had just heard. “Sounds interesting as a theory. But do you think it will really work?”

“Well…it is, like you say, a theory and some hackers have tried it earlier with varying degrees of success. The problem with the approach is sooner or later someone finds out what’s happening and clamps down on it. Those bean counters – the unique species of humanity that you call accountants – are pretty good with their prehistoric calculators. And they don’t consider the concepts of rounding and truncation as practicable, usable or useful. They like their pennies, or shall we say beans, to match exactly. So we have a limited period of time to do this.”