Planting the President as a Spy (1)
The president of an affiliate company under investigation for hiring irregularities receives a call from the group’s audit team leader like this? One would think he’d be groveling at my feet by now, just like Lee Jae-hyuk, the executive director of QS Express, had done. He must believe he has some kind of safety net. Not that it matters. The verdict I can already see in advance still clearly marks President Shin Ho-jung as guilty. That means even if I don’t bother digging for more evidence, whatever he’s relying on won’t save him. Still, I’m curious. What on earth is he thinking, acting so defiant?
No matter how much I thought about it, nothing obvious came to mind. President Shin joined QS three years ago, right after the internal war between Kwon Je-gyun and the others, when Je-gyun was ousted from the presidency of QS Telecom for sabotaging another affiliate. Because of that, even though he runs the massive QS Telecom, his actual influence within the group is practically nonexistent. Before coming to QS Telecom, he worked in telecommunications technology research, so his external network isn’t particularly wide either. Rumor has it he has a firm grip on the company’s technical departments, but is that really enough to give me this much attitude?
Since I’m the one who called, I should get straight to the point. “I’ve personally reviewed the written statement you submitted, President Shin, and we’re continuing our investigation on multiple fronts.”
“With so much work as the new audit team leader, there’s really no need to scrutinize my case so thoroughly. As stated in my written response, the hiring was conducted through a fair process, and I only learned that one of our new hires was Professor Im Su-chan’s daughter after the scandal broke.”
“Is that so? Our investigation has turned up quite a bit of contradictory evidence.”
“Well, we can’t exactly deny opportunities at a company like QS Telecom to the child of a prestigious university professor, can we? What contradictory evidence are you referring to, Team Leader?”
So he’s decided to play dumb and deny everything outright? “This isn’t something I can explain properly over the phone. I’d like to meet in person. How about lunch today? It might be awkward near the company, so if you come near Law Firm Seungbaek, I’ll treat you.”
“Team Leader.”
“Yes, I’m listening.”
President Shin Ho-jung on the other end of the line held his breath for a moment before continuing. “I’m also the president of a company. Lunch is only a few hours away. How am I supposed to free up my schedule that quickly?”
“I suggested lunch specifically to avoid business hours because I assumed you’d be busy. Are you saying you can’t make it?”
“No. I already have plans for lunch today.”
I stared at the stack of documents on my desk while holding the phone to my ear. It was the evidence of Im Yu-jin’s hiring irregularities that Yeo Eun-ju had pulled together yesterday. Apparently, President Shin still didn’t know I had this in my possession. If he realized the gun was already pressed against his temple, he’d cancel even a meeting with the president and come running, wouldn’t he?
The reason I’m handling this so quickly is precisely to cover up President Shin’s misconduct. The longer this drags on, the more people find out, and the harder it becomes to bury. Yet the very person who committed the wrongdoing is acting like he has all the time in the world, making excuses about being busy. If he wants to dig his own grave, who am I to stop him?
“Understood. I’ll proceed with the investigation without further input from you, President Shin. That’s fine with you, correct?”
“Yes, yes. I have nothing more to add beyond what I already stated in my written response.”
Click.
The call with President Shin ended. My intention to bring him to his knees beneath me hadn’t changed, but it seemed I needed to teach him some manners first. Did he really think I was so idle that I’d call him just to waste time? Where does he get off pretending to be busy?
* * *
QS Telecom President’s Office. After finishing his call with Ho-gyun, President Shin Ho-jung fiddled with his phone. Hmm. Looking back, things had gotten unnecessarily complicated over something trivial. Even when he’d granted Professor Im Su-chan’s request—his former mentor—to convert Im Yu-jin to a full-time position, he hadn’t expected the situation to escalate this far. On top of that, Hwang Sang-hyun, the candidate who lost the position to Im Yu-jin, turned out to be unusually vindictive, and Professor Im was nominated as a ministerial candidate at exactly this moment.
Still, he was confident things wouldn’t spiral further. Anticipating this kind of situation, Shin had deliberately assigned Im Yu-jin only to the R&D team he personally controlled. While her performance evaluations had been fabricated, those involved would never leak the truth. The only remaining risk was the digital trail of the manipulation, but he’d already instructed the relevant staff never to disclose it to anyone from the audit team. He’d even added that if anything did come up, they were to report directly to him.
He hadn’t forgotten to ask his junior from college, who handled IT for the audit team, to tip him off if Kwon Ho-gyun issued any instructions related to QS Telecom. After all, connections from engineering school were useful precisely because only someone with those specific skills could accomplish certain tasks. So far, there had been no word of the audit team visiting QS Telecom, and his junior hadn’t mentioned anything either. Based on the call with Ho-gyun, any “evidence” he claimed to have was probably just circumstantial. If he’d had solid proof, he wouldn’t have asked Shin to come in person—that was Shin’s own rationalization.
This would work out. The incident would end as nothing more than a petty drama started by Hwang Sang-hyun, a loser who failed in the hiring competition. Im Yu-jin would continue working at QS Telecom, and Professor Im Su-chan would join the cabinet as Minister of Information and Communication. That would finally give Shin a political connection. Since he’d done the favor of converting the professor’s daughter to full-time status, the professor—soon to be minister—would have to return the favor someday.
Shin had been carrying the burden of QS Telecom’s stagnant performance since taking over as president. While the technology and R&D sectors had strengthened, they hadn’t translated into actual revenue and profits. With the Minister of Information and Communication’s influence, QS Telecom could secure major government contracts. A smile creased Shin’s face with deep laugh lines as he indulged in this pleasant fantasy, his fingers pausing on the phone screen.
What would be good?
— The Yeouido Big Data Center construction project?
— The Seoul Digital Innovation Urbanization Project?
— The Seoul-Sejong Digital Highway Pass construction plan?
Countless other large-scale initiatives from the Ministry of Information and Communication flashed through President Shin’s mind. Each one ranged from hundreds of billions to trillions of won—massive catches that could instantly erase years of underperformance if secured. He had no doubt that at least one of them would belong to him.
Up we go. Finishing his pleasant daydream, Shin rose from his chair. The lunch appointment he’d mentioned during the call hadn’t been a lie. It was with someone far more important than Kwon Ho-gyun—his eldest brother, Kwon Seong-gyun.
So what if Ho-gyun had become audit team leader? He was still just a powerless heir who hadn’t even secured proper shares in any affiliate. Since taking office as president of QS Telecom, Shin had been receiving constant overtures from both Kwon Seong-gyun and Kwon Je-gyun, the two leading candidates for the next chairman. From what he could see of the group’s dynamics, QS Telecom—where he now sat—appeared to hold the casting vote in the next chairman election. He couldn’t afford to miss such a golden opportunity.
Shin planned to string both Seong-gyun and Je-gyun along for as long as possible, pretending to favor each side, before ultimately siding with the winner at the last moment. Today was the day he would lean slightly toward Seong-gyun. And now some brat like Kwon Ho-gyun thought he could summon him during that appointment?
He’s not even thirty yet and already this arrogant. If he has business, he should come himself.
Crash.
Just then, as if to jolt him from his thoughts, the office door burst open without so much as a knock. “President, remember when you told me to report immediately if there were any suspicious signs?”
It was the employee who had helped Shin manipulate the intranet system timestamps to fabricate Im Yu-jin’s hiring. Since Shin had been thinking about exactly that matter until just moments ago, it wasn’t difficult to follow what the man was saying.
“The intern performance evaluations you had me rewrite and approve?”
“Yes.”
“Did someone from the group audit team show up?”
“No. No one came in person, but last night someone accessed the system from outside using administrator privileges and downloaded all the logs from that day—the ones involving you and me.”
Ding. A faint pain shot through the back of Shin’s head, and it felt as though bells were ringing in both ears. Perhaps it was because he wanted to deny that Kwon Ho-gyun—a mere lawyer with no real IT knowledge—could have done such a thing. When Shin finally spoke again, his words weren’t about the audit team. “What? Was it a hack?”
“No. If someone had tried to force their way in with administrator privileges from outside, our firewall would have blocked it automatically. You know how solid our security is, President. It was an already-approved administrator account from the Central Audit Team.”
The wall he’d been leaning on crumbled beneath him. Still standing, Shin pressed a hand to his forehead. “So what exactly did the audit team take?”
“Everything—the records of us changing the system timestamps and the logs showing the intern’s performance evaluation file being overwritten. Didn’t the audit team say anything to you, President?”
The audit team had said something to Shin. They’d asked to meet for lunch. Near Law Firm Seungbaek. That brat Kwon Ho-gyun had claimed he only had circumstantial evidence, yet he’d already secured perfect proof and was just playing it cool. Shin had thought he was just some greenhorn the chairman had placed in the audit team out of affection, but he was far more meticulous and dangerous than expected.
Damn it. If this blew up, everything would be ruined. Securing major projects through Minister Im, playing both Seong-gyun and Je-gyun in the succession race—it would all be over. He might even be ousted from the presidency he’d been lucky enough to land. Shin quickly grabbed the suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m stepping out for a bit.”
“President? Where are you going?”
“I’ll explain when I get back.”
Crash.
Thud, thud.
The door slammed shut with twice the force of before, and Shin hurled himself through the opening.
* * *
I was still contemplating how best to teach President Shin some manners when I heard my secretary Cha Ye-na’s voice from outside. “May I ask who you are?”
A man’s voice followed, gasping for breath. It was unmistakably President Shin Ho-jung’s—the same voice I’d just heard over the phone.