ALL NOVEL Issue 67 – A Deadly Deal
Spears just sighed and nodded acknowledgement of the fact. “Mr. Castle, I will be pleased to help you Awaken as a Forsaken and start you on the road for completing your quest. If you begin the prosecution and elimination of the vampire and werewolf threat, you can rest assured that the Tribes will happily provide for your family as long as you do so, and if you die.
“We will also happily supply you what intelligence we gain to help you in your matter, and place you in contact with those who can both train you and supply you with the Gear you will need for your eventual goal... below the eyes of those watching for our interference with the sovereignty of this great nation of yours.” His smile had no mirth, and there was none on Mr. Castle’s face, either.
“That’s good,” he grunted, nodding once. “What do I have to do?”
“Well, let’s get you your Human Three, turn you from this very devoted soldier into a defender of all humanity, and then let you loose upon the things which threaten this little world of ours.”
Once again, Spears’ smile had no mirth.
Once again, neither did Mr. Castle’s.
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“Dad is gonna be gone again?!” the girl complained automatically, before her mother could shush her. “He promised he was done!”
“Well, there is an alternative,” I told her.
“Really? What?” she exclaimed immediately, leaning forwards.
“The three of you can walk outside and down the block. I’m guessing you’ll all be dead within five minutes, courtesy of the fallen angel doing this to him, and he won’t have to deal with your whining.”
Her mouth clamped shut, as did all of them, and they all went white.
“You know your dad.” I glared at both of the kids. “When has he EVER not delivered on his promises, unless something happened he had no control over?” I stared at both of them, and they fidgeted. “What he has no control over is the fact that if he doesn’t start fighting again, YOU DIE.” I leaned forwards again, and they drew back.
“Do you want to walk outside this house again? Do you want to have friends? Go to school? Grow up outside these four walls? Go shopping? Go cycling? Go see a movie? Go to a restaurant?
“JUST SO YOU CAN DO THOSE THINGS, your dad has to go fight. Those stupid, silly, irrelevant things that won’t help him out at all. Go play ball. Go swimming. Go dancing. Go do all that, while your dad is killing vampires and werewolves and demons and whatnot, just so you don’t die.”
They all swallowed as they stared at me, but it was the mother, Maria, who spoke up first. “Frank isn’t overseas this time. Is there anything we can do to help him?” she asked softly.
“The first and best thing you can do is to get out of here. Tell me why.” I pointed at the boy.
He’d seen enough movies and read enough comics. “Because the stuff he’s fighting will come after his family?” he guessed, his voice breaking.
“Which of you three is capable of killing vampires, werewolves, and demons?” I asked, and they all shivered despite themselves. “Right. You need to go, but we can’t even move you until he’s started on the killing again.” I threw up my hands. “But you know what? That should happen tonight, and then we’re going to whisk you out of here to San Francisco.”
The kids both perked up, and even Maria looked surprised. “The city with the Champions?”
“There’s a lot of power in SF. Magic, martial, psionic. Enough power to keep you safe, and make sure the enemies your dad is about to make to keep you alive can’t find you there.” I weighed my look at them. “You want to help your dad, it also has the people who can teach you to do that.”
They all looked interested at that.
“You might not like to hear it, but all those stories you dismissed as propaganda from the Tribes? They are completely real. The States do use werewolves and vampires against the Tribes. They’ve been doing so for more than a century. As a result, the Tribes are the best vampire and werewolf fighters, and also against just plain magical bullshit the States try to use on them, in the world.
“Why the Tribes haven’t nuked DC for it, I don’t know. Maybe it just keeps their warriors on their toes. Maybe they are just waiting for the vampires and werewolves to explode their Curses and take out the States.
“But regardless of the reason, the end result is that there are more vampires and werewolves in the United States than there are in the rest of the world put together.” They all stared at me in shock. “Yeah. Someone has to kill them, and your dad volunteered to do it.”
The two kids, Lisa and Frank Jr., swallowed. “How long... how long will it take him before he’s done?”
“He’s gotta get strong enough to go down into Hell and kick the ass of the Fallen Angel that set all this up. It ain’t gonna be a short time.
“On the flip side, once he’s working, he can probably call you up a couple times a week to check on you while you go down to the beach and learn to surf, or something.”
Their faces twisted at the implications.
“They can teach us how to fight vampires, hunh...” Frank Jr. murmured, looking at me.
I shrugged. “You’re the kids of one of the greatest soldiers in the world, for all that nobody sings his praises. A freaking fallen angel picked him out of Heaven knows how many people because he knew just how dangerous your dad is.” They blinked again as I stared at him. “You’re the kids of a man like him. You want him to come home sooner, then you bring him home alive.”
Seed, planted.
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And for another seed to plant...
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Now, on with the deal!
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Time passes...
There were six of them, and they had decent money. The buy-in was twenty-five grand, so there was a decent pool available.
They were also all believed by the Resort to cheat regularly, and so barred from the normal games. That they were being invited in was both a test to me and a challenge to them, and they were taking it seriously.
“Gentlemen, at your request, the game is seven card stud, Down the River. You are not playing against the house, but against each other. Do I need to go over the basic rules?” They were waved off as the players sized one another up.
One dressed as a playboy, one a fashionista. Two with the professional looks of gamblers. One in full Southern Gentleman look, and a bored woman in a cocktail dress distracting a couple of the men.
“This is a clean table.” The way I said this made them raise their eyebrows, moreso as I reached into my case, pulled out a pack of common playing cards, cut the seal with my thumb and flicked the deck out with one hand, tossing the case into the trash can nearby without looking. “I am The Dealer, your host.” I spread the cards with one hand for them all to see, and I watched their eyes flicker at my control. I flicked them between my hands and began to shuffle. “There will be examples provided throughout the game on how this is a clean table.” They watched my hands flowing through the shuffling and riffling of the cards, unable to track what was going where.
“The deck is sealed.” I finished my shuffling and tapped the deck, and they blinked at the small burst of light. The woman in the cocktail dress gasped, jerking back, and a spot of blood fell from her nose. Everyone looked at her as she glared at me, and I ignored her.
I dealt out the first three cards, two down, third up. Euro-money had a king high, and the hundred-dollar ante was forwarded after everyone examined their cards.
The next run went around, an ace came up in Pro2’s pile, he raised for everyone, and was matched.
The third run started, and a pair of fours was now in front of the fashionista, who happily raised for everyone. As this was the first hand, nobody bowed out, looking to see what was going to happen.
The fourth run had some interesting possibilities, and a pair of sevens in front of Southern Beau. He raised five hundred, a big bet, yet everyone bought in, and the final card was dealt face down.
Oddly enough, the raises and bets were small in this final round, as three down cards were randomizing everything. Another two hundred in bets came and went, and it was time to show cards.
Pro1 raked it in with a full house of queens and threes, none of which had been showing, causing the others to curse their luck quietly. I moved the chips with minor TK speed, collecting the cards with a deftness that still caught their eyes, and shuffled the cards exactly once.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a demonstration.” Cards flew out at them, landing perfectly in rows in front of them. The faces of five of them changed drastically as they noticed them, while the sixth stared at his six cards instead of seven.
“If you could turn your cards over, players.”
Slowly, they did so, and their faces just got that little bit uglier as they did so.
First of all, I’d given them back all the cards they’d Marked. Second of all, they weren’t the cards they’d Marked.
Southern Beau stared at his straight flush, two through eight, of clubs.
Pro1 looked at the straight flush, two through eight, of diamonds, NOT the hand he’d been dealt.
Pro2 looked at his straight flush of spades, and also paled.
Fashionista looked at her straight flush of hearts in disbelief.
Playboy stared at his three aces and three nines in disbelief, the empty hole of the fourth ace glaring, trying to deny what was going on.
Cocktail regarded her four kings and three tens.
I pulled a four of clubs out of my vest, and there was a flash of electricity from it. Pro1 jerked and tore off his shaded glasses, scorch marks on his ears.
“The air is clear of microbots,” I informed everyone, and they all turned to consider Pro1 as I swept the cards back up. They settled into a deck, which I held out, and sprayed towards the waste bin.
They burst into flame on the way there. Playboy paused, and then shouted and flicked his arm as my flaming cards went into the trash, and a burning ace of hearts fell to the ground from his sleeve. He bit his lip as he stood revealed before the other players, having smoothly palmed the ace as a quick Cantrip substituted a blank matching card that had vanished in the mass of the others.
Naturally I could tell I didn’t have a full deck when I gathered them.
“The deck will remain intact,” I went on. I reached into my case, drew out another deck of cards, popped it with the same thumb, and the deck rose into my grasp as I flicked away the paper case. “Please feel free to continue Marking the cards with psi, magic, chemicals, and dustbots, or trying to Timesight the deal. I have a hundred decks here and can bring out a new one for every hand. I am also a great admirer of the Monocle’s work, although I am sorry to say trying to look through a Sealed Deck is not going to work in this case.”
Only Pro2’s ears went red, but he just looked around with everyone else otherwise. The crowd murmured with schadenfreude, deducing what was going on, and were now even more interested.