AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know.” She stepped away. “Go play your games. If you see him, one up him. Nothing major, just several little things.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Smith took a deep breath and left the cabin. When he once again got to the game car, he was ready for whomever he’d meet.
There was a game in progress in the corner. He walked to the bar and dropped a single ice cube into a tumbler. Then he examined the offerings and chose a Scotch. He casually drifted over to the table and watched as they played. Poker. Five-card draw. He couldn’t see any cards; everyone kept them face down after glancing momentarily at them after the deal. He watched them ante up. Those who remained threw in the cards and were dealt the same number.
Smith could tell who was going to win. The man on his left. There was a predatory look in his eye as he sized up his opponents. The larger stack of chips in front of him gave him a massive advantage. He would win because he could buy the pots by outbidding the others. Even if the others went all in and won, the man would still hold an advantage.
He went to another vacant table and took a new deck of cards out of the box. He shuffled them and laid them down for a game of solitaire. He heard the door to the railroad car open and close but didn’t look up. He pretended to be lost in his game. Being too interested in the comings and goings of others would only draw attention to him. Attention they didn’t need.
“Excuse me, do you speak English?”
Smith looked up into the eyes of Vosser Blanton. “A little.” It was the common answer when someone asked if someone spoke another language.
“Would you like to play?” Blanton dropped a stack of rubles onto the table.
“What game?” He reached back to his wallet and pulled out an equal size stack of bills.
Blanton smiled and sat down. “Do you know seven card stud?”
“I have heard of it, yes.” Smith loved the game. He was good at poker because he remembered what cards had been played and knew the probability of a good hand versus those of a shit hand.
Blanton got up and went to the bar, leaving his stack of money on the table. Smith took another sip of his scotch and waited for Blanton to return.
When he did, the man sat across from him. “I have friends on the train, and I expect they’ll be here soon. We’ll wait for them. We can take their money instead of each other’s.” The man laughed at his joke and saluted Smith with his freshly poured drink.
“Would you actually be their friend, then?” Smithson asked, leaning back and taking a drink of his Scotch.
“To you, yes. To them? Maybe not today.” Again, the man laughed. He extended his hand. “Name’s Vosser.”
Smith reached over and shook the man’s hand with a strong, firm grip. Blanton was a dick and tried to squeeze harder. Smith stopped the contest with a pressure that could easily break the man’s hand and sneered. “I think maybe you try too hard.” Blanton released his grip, letting his hand go slack, and Smith followed suit, releasing Blanton’s hand and leaning back, staring at the man.
Smith lived his life as an enforcer. He knew when he was being sized up. Perhaps it was Blanton’s job to get a feel for new people on the train.
Blanton shook his hand. “Strong as a bull.”
Smith snorted. “No. Strong, period.” He wouldn’t let Blanton marginalize him.
“True.” Blanton agreed before he took a drink.
“What do you do, Mr. … I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Ivan. Ivan Medvedev.” He took another drink of his scotch.
“Ivan. Good Russian name. What do you do, Ivan?”
Smith put his drink down and leaned forward on his forearms staring directly at Blanton. “I mind my own business.”
Blanton blinked and narrowed his eyes. “That’s always a good thing.”
Smith swept his hands over the cards on the table and collected them. “In business, in life, and in general.” He agreed with Blanton and shuffled the cards. A laugh from the other table broke the silence. Smith didn’t turn around. “The man wearing the black shirt won.”
Blanton slid his gaze that way and then lifted his eyebrows. “It seems he did. How did you know?”
His gaze moved toward Blanton for a moment, still shuffling the deck. “He had the most money when I sat down.”
“Frequently when gambling, money changes hands very quickly.” Blanton took a drink.
“That’s why you never bet more than you can afford to lose.”
“True. Ah, here are my friends.” Blanton motioned over three men. Smith glanced up and then dropped his eyes. Val started talking to Daria in his ear, so he had to concentrate on what was happening in front of him. “Ivan, this is James, Melvin, and Sam.”
