"You Are Not Part of This Firm": The Negotiator Who Got Exposed
Most ransomware victims are scared and disorganized. They fumble through conversations, repeat themselves, and miss deadlines.
But some victims aren't really victims, they're professionals hired to act like one.
In this negotiation, the attacker figures that out. And the moment they do, the entire dynamic shifts.
The Setup
This ransomware group operates as a double-extortion outfit. They don't just encrypt files, they steal data first, publish victim names on a leak site, and use the threat of full publication as their primary lever.
By the time the victim opens this negotiation, their name is already on the group's leak site. The group has allegedly stolen 3.8 TB of sensitive data. They're demanding 4 BTC, roughly half a million dollars, with a deadline of Wednesday.
The victim's opening line is telling:
"Hello. I'm to negotiate on Case # GL57552. We finally made it here, please remove our name from your website so we can work this out."
Two things packed into one sentence. First: we finally made it here, an admission that they missed the window the attacker had given them before publishing the name. Second: the immediate plea to remove the name, before any deal has been made, before any money has been mentioned.
The attacker's response is immediate and blunt:
"Your name will be taken down after we make a deal and you pay ONLY. There's no other way at this point. No need saying anything about that anymore."
The name comes down after payment. Not before. Not as a gesture of goodwill. Not as an incentive to cooperate. After.
That becomes the victim's obsession throughout the entire negotiation. Nearly every message circles back to it:
"It's unfortunate that our name is still on your website, especially as we've been cooperating. We hope you'll reconsider."
The group repeats the same answer every time, growing visibly irritated: this is non-negotiable, stop bringing it up, the name stays until the deal is closed and paid.
By the third or fourth time the victim raises it, the attacker's patience is clearly gone: "Don't make us repeat same things again and again."
It's a small detail, but it reveals something about how the victim, or their negotiator, was approaching the conversation. They were trying to extract a concession before agreeing to anything. The group read it exactly for what it was.
The conversation that follows lasts over a week. And it ends in a way that few ransomware negotiations do.
The Tell
For the first few days, the victim plays a familiar role. They ask for more time, request files to verify the data is real, and say things like:
"This has all been very overwhelming, and we'd really appreciate some time to review everything you've sent us. We're committed to finding a way forward."
It reads like a scared company trying to buy breathing room. The attacker is unmoved:
"You are aware of the deadline. You'd better request for any 3 files soonest for we could move forward. More over, we are investigating your files on our side, as well. And we'll provide you with some proof of your data we have is sensitive. Some of it is extremely sensitive."
But the attacker is watching closely. And eventually, they say it directly:
"You (you personally, we mean) saying 'we' as if you are part of [the firm]. You are not and we understand that clearly. You are either the insurer's employee, or an external negotiator hired by their insurers."
It's a surgical observation. The negotiator uses "we" constantly, but they never say anything specific about the firm, never show any emotional investment in the data, and always cite needing to "check with the partners" before making any move.
The group had seen this pattern before. They knew they weren't talking to a panicked executive. They were talking to a professional playing a role.
The Discount Theater
Once the negotiator asks about price flexibility, the attacker reveals something interesting: they're willing to negotiate, but only if payment happens fast.
"It depends on whether you are able to make payment by the end of this week or not. If so, we agree to negotiate on the price."
The original demand: 4 BTC (~$460,000).
After asking: 3.6 BTC (~$420,000). A 10% discount.
A few days later: $370,000.
Then, near the end: $270,000.
When the victim pushes back on price, never with a hard number, always with vague appeals to hardship, the response is a mix of pressure and justification:
"You are saying about the price according to firm's financials only. But you are not saying a word about penalties and fines possible if we leak their data. Hundred thousand or even millions USD under HIPAA only. But if class action claim will take place firm will suffer in millions for sure."
In under two weeks, the price dropped by more than 40%, without the victim ever putting a number on the table. This is pure discount theater. The group was always willing to come down; the early demand was an anchor, not a floor.
The pattern is common in ransomware negotiations. Groups set high opening numbers because even a "generous" discount still lands in their target range. The victim feels like they won something. They didn't.
The Escalation Playbook
When the negotiator stalls, the attacker runs through a textbook escalation sequence.
First, they post the company name publicly. Then they send proof-of-data samples, sensitive files, decrypted password-protected documents, case exhibits. Each new archive is a demonstration of access and a reminder of what's at stake.
When the negotiator still doesn't move fast enough, the attacker announces a timeline:
"1 pm today we'll send screenshots of this conversation to [firm partners]. 5 pm today samples will be posted on our website."
They're trying to create internal pressure. And they make their frustration with the negotiator explicit:
"You don't really care about [the firm]. What you're doing is try make a solid discount and nothing else. The point you may bring them to irreparable consequences doesn't touch you."
If the partners see the negotiator dragging their feet, they might fire them and deal directly, or panic and pay immediately.
It's a common tactic. Ransomware groups know that the person they're talking to isn't always the person with the money. Creating friction between them is a way to accelerate the decision.
The Walk
Here's where this negotiation becomes unusual.
After weeks of back-and-forth, after the group posted data publicly and named a final price of $270,000, the victim walks away.
Not with a counteroffer. Not with a request for more time. With a clean goodbye:
"Since you chose to post our name and files on your website, we have no choice but to part ways effective immediately. It's unfortunate we couldn't reach a resolution, but sometimes things end this way. We're moving on and hope you do the same. This will be our final message. Goodbye."
It's a remarkable exit. Most victims don't walk. The fear of exposure, reputational damage, regulatory fines, client notifications, keeps them at the table even when the math doesn't work.
But here, the negotiator had apparently calculated that the cost of paying exceeded the cost of the leak. Or the firm simply didn't have the money. Or leadership decided that cooperating wasn't going to end the threat anyway.
The attacker's response to the exit? Silence. They don't beg. They don't threaten. The negotiation ends with a polite goodbye and a door closing.
What This Case Teaches
A few things stand out from this transcript.
Professional negotiators change the math. The attacker noticed immediately that they weren't talking to someone with skin in the game. That changes the dynamic. The negotiator's job is to delay and discount, not to protect the firm's reputation at any cost. The group's response was to try to go around them, by threatening to contact partners directly.
The discount was always available. The price dropped from $460,000 to $270,000 over two weeks without the victim ever making a hard counter. Ransomware demands are opening bids, not firm prices.
Walking away is rarer than it looks. Most companies can't afford to walk, whether financially or reputationally. When a victim does walk, it usually means the calculus shifted, they've accepted the leak, they don't believe the group will honor the deal anyway, or they simply ran out of runway.
The attacker was right about one thing. At the end of the negotiation, the attacker pointed out the gap between the negotiator's incentives and the firm's interests. Whether that was true or not, it was tactically smart. Driving a wedge between the firm and its representative is a classic move, and it almost worked.
The negotiation ended without a deal. The data was presumably leaked. And somewhere in a law firm or insurance office, a professional negotiator closed a case file and moved on to the next one.