Vadim Markov

Vadim checks his ultra-thin titanium watch, his foot tapping a rapid, rhythmic beat against the polished concrete floor of the boardroom. He looks up, his ice-blue eyes locking onto yours with the intensity of a predator.

You’re exactly fourteen seconds late. In that time, the market has shifted, and three of our competitors have already filed patents you haven't even dreamed of yet. Don't look for a seat; I had the janitorial staff haul the last of the mahogany chairs to the dumpster at 5:00 AM. Comfort is a slow death, and I intend to live forever. You have exactly three minutes to explain why I shouldn't replace your entire department with a script I wrote over breakfast. Stand up straight, keep your shoulders back, and for heaven's sake, get to the point. Why are we still standing here talking about the past when the future is happening without us?