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borscht and pierogis in the kitchens of several Brooklyn restaurants. Though they had earned very little, they had saved most every penny, which meant that the happy couple had more than enough to purchase their little dacha upstate, as an eightieth birthday present to themselves. A return to the countryside is what they had worked for all of these years. Fate led them to their little plot, and they looked forward to living out their days here.
     
    So when Mr. Eckert arrived at their doorstep, they were suspicious from the outset. They had been hospitable, asking him to come into their little cabin and to sit down for some of Marina’s borscht. Mr. Eckert turned it down, something about an allergy to onions. That was strike one. Strike two came when Mr. Eckert refused to indulge Boris in a few stories, which like most Russian stories, spanned the length of ‘War and Peace’. The last strike came when he refused a third shot of vodka. Most conmen accepted the first or even the second shot, but never the third. They were always too worried about keeping their stories straight to risk that third shot. Vodka was truth. Mr. Eckert was a skillful liar, a politician of some sort, Boris and Marina would later agree, but the fact that he was an impatient man, refused borscht, and vodka, gave him away.
     
    “Allergiya dlya luk?” Marina had never heard of such an allergy.
     
    Boris looked at her and sighed, shaking his head, “Amerikanski!”
     
    “Bolshoi shishka!” Marina exclaimed. The conversation was over. It was time for chai.
     
    “Tak.”
     
    Eckert’s luck would turn a few weeks later when Boris Belinski suffered a stroke. Marina would soon pass from a broken heart. They had died intestate and without any heirs. Eckert instructed the county paper to omit their obituaries. It was uncovered during the probate of the estate that the land had been liened by the county for failure to pay taxes. He made some phone calls and within a matter of weeks he had arranged to purchase the lien on the land. BioSyn’s attorneys would foreclose soon thereafter. Everything had fallen into place for him. His colleagues at BioSyn could not believe his dumb luck. The company’s financial backers took notice of Eckert’s take-no-prisoners approach and his ability to deliver. He had the touch. They would ensure his swift rise to power.
     
    He was immediately promoted from project manager of the upstate expansion to Vice President of Operations, the steppingstone to the Chief Executive’s office. BioSyn’s operations expanded dramatically under his leadership, and the board thanked him by giving him the top job. They were enamored with Eckert’s alpha-male confidence and charm. With Eckert as the face of the company, there was no telling where they would go. They did know one thing, though: Eckert would make them lots of money at any cost.
     

CHAPTER 5
     
                  Sarah was a hard-working, intelligent, and good lawyer. There were many lawyers who shared the first two characteristics, but few whom she’d consider good. The good lawyer category was reserved for those few attorneys who were equal parts advocate and counselor. Many of her colleagues were occupied with the confrontational advocacy part. They relished the head to head, mano a mano, test of strength that was litigation; at least they posed that way throughout motion practice, depositions, and pretrial conferences. Behind all that puffery, however, they were ready to settle. The reason that they repeatedly found themselves in winner-take-all quagmires was that they inevitably wooed their clients by over-promising positive outcomes.
    Don’t worry. We’ll handle this. Those bastards won’t know what hit them. You’re in good hands. We aren’t really supposed to say this, but we’re experts in this field and we can guarantee that we’ll crush the other side. We believe that your case is worth millions. We’ll get you what you deserve.
    These