The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,67
Tony reached her. ‘What did you think of my performance?’
‘For someone who didn’t even want to do it, you certainly threw yourself into the part,’ he replied.
‘I was in the drama club at university. We did The Tempest – I was Miranda.’ She adopted an exaggeratedly thespian voice. ‘I suppose the call of the craft never leaves you, dahling.’
‘You did a great job,’ Tony told her, grinning. ‘Once Adam cleans out Zykov, I’m sure we’ll hook him. I was watching him through your earring camera – he was getting pretty furious when he lost some of those games.’
‘I can’t say I’m surprised. Adam was making me mad. So what now?’
‘Adam knows he’s in the endgame now, so I don’t think this’ll take much longer. Once he leaves, if Zykov goes after him the van’ll pick us up so we can follow him. All the PERSONA gear is loaded and ready for you.’
‘If Zykov follows him.’ That was still the wild card. She looked back towards the VIP room, wondering what was happening within.
Adam looked at the chips on the table. He had around two thirds of the total: over one point three million dollars. That put Zykov at a disadvantage, but not a crippling one. With strategic betting, the Russian could draw the contest out for some time.
More to the point, he could still win it. With Bianca gone, not only did that deprive Adam of his clandestine partner, but also the tiny camera in her earring. No more computerised help with the odds.
It was all up to him. He had to rely on Vanwall’s poker skills . . . and his own ability to read Zykov’s bluffs.
‘So, little buddy,’ he said. ‘You want to step this up?’
Zykov regarded him coldly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘How about we raise the ante to, say . . . fifty thousand? Speed things up. I want to be out celebrating taking all your money before all the hottest girls are gone!’
‘You will have nothing to celebrate tonight.’ The arms dealer’s glance towards his bodyguards made it clear that would be the case whether Adam won or lost.
Adam gave him a toothy grin. ‘We’ll see about that. So, fifty thousand?’
‘Fifty thousand.’
Both men pushed their chips into the pot. The dealer put down the first cards. Adam’s face-up card was the ace of diamonds, Zykov’s the king of clubs. The house rule was that aces were high, so Adam had the opening bet. He checked his hole card. Queen of spades. Potential for a straight, but it was unlikely. Only one game had been won with a hand that high – and it had been Zykov’s.
What was the Russian’s hole card? Adam watched Zykov closely as he thumbed back one corner of his own hidden card. No visible reaction. That meant nothing at this early stage of the game.
The dealer waited for him to bet. ‘Okay, then,’ said Adam, ‘let’s make this fun. Fifty thousand.’
Zykov glowered, but matched the bet. He knows I’m trying to bleed him dry. Adam’s larger pool of chips gave him the advantage. Even if the Russian folded on the first two cards, he would still be fifty thousand dollars down because of the increased ante. And if he played on, Adam could raise the bets to a point that would force him to go all in. If he lost then, he lost everything.
If he lost. If Zykov won, his position would be strengthened. He might even regain the advantage.
Can’t let that happen.
Next card. Four of hearts. Worthless. Zykov got the king of diamonds. Crap. That gave him one pair . . . or possibly three of a kind? The Russian seemed confident.
Zykov’s bet. He gave Adam an unpleasant smile. ‘Sixty thousand.’
A single pair was a weak hand, but at the moment it was all Zykov needed to win. Fold, or play on? The best Adam could hope for was three of a kind – which his opponent might already have.
Was Zykov bluffing? He was definitely tense, but with over a hundred thousand dollars already on the table, that was hardly surprising. Adam searched Vanwall’s memories for advice. Names and faces and hands of cards flashed through his mind: times when the gambler had tried to force an adversary to go all in. It was a risky strategy. Sensible players would fold and keep some chips in reserve rather than potentially lose everything . . . unless they were sure they had a winning hand.