The dice tumbled across the craps table’s green velvet with a lively patter, bounced off the far wall, and settled with the one and six showing.
“Natural seven!” Art Maniken called. “Up pops the Devil.”
Where he stood off to the side, Dan Wirth kept his expression blank, allowing no trace of the gloating smile that bloomed from the roots of his soul. A single word echoed in his mind: Fruition.
Private Tompzen stood with his feet braced, both hands on the rim of the craps table, his features ashen. The good private had needed a six. High odds for either an easy or hard six or eight. But not with those dice. And the marine, tough and ready as he considered himself, wasn’t up to discerning the tiny magnets that had sealed his doom.
“Oh, baby,” Angelina cooed where she stood at Kalen Tompzen’s side, one hand on his shoulder. “I just knew you had it.”
Tompzen’s lips quivered as Art raked in the chips, calling, “New shooter. Is there a new shooter?”
But the thirteen other patrons in The Jewel that afternoon were buried in their poker, keno, and an odd game of pinochle in the back corner.
“Hey, babe,” Angelina told Tompzen. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink. That was a hell of a game you just rolled.”
“Fuck!” Tompzen growled through gritted teeth, disbelieving gaze fixed on the dice that had so suddenly betrayed him.
Art’s eyes were half-lidded, the bouncer standing easily, having palmed a small taser into his left hand just in case.
“C’mon, baby,” Angelina said, tugging at Tompzen’s hand. “Luck always changes. After so many wins, I thought . . . Well, luck just stinks sometimes.”
She artfully pried him away from the craps table, leading him back to a table in the rear next to the cage.
Art nodded in relief, a slight grin on his face. Tompzen wouldn’t be a problem. Art didn’t really like any of the marines, but he understood his job and tolerated Tompzen and his holier-than-thou, “I’m a marine” attitude. They needed Tompzen, He was the only one who’d dared to disobey orders. Aguila—the canny slit—had insisted in no uncertain terms that her marines consider The Jewel off limits, and especially the tables.
It had taken weeks to get Tompzen primed, allowing him to infringe ever so slightly. Take a throw or two on the house. Nothing said as he was paid out the occasional ten, twenty, or hundred.
Almost a month had been invested to get the marine set up for today’s game. The manipulation had been perfectly orchestrated. Just the right advances of chips. Everything jotted down in the book.
The swelling of pride in Dan’s chest left him feeling like a master. Perfectly played.
Now the poor sap sat at the back table, Angelina pouring him a healthy two fingers of whiskey before she sat down to commiserate with her “dear” friend.
Dan checked the time. Ambled by the other tables, making his friendly rounds and calculating his winnings. Slow afternoon. And it would be slow tonight, but then they generally were when the Corporate people were out of town.
And he couldn’t play Tompzen when there was a chance that any of Aguila’s people might see the Supervisor’s wayward private at the tables.
Dan waited until Tompzen had downed his first whiskey and was halfway through his second. Waited until the marine was laughing, fingering Angelina’s body suggestively. Maybe having forgotten he’d just lost more than seven thousand at the table.
Placing his finger to his earlobe, Dan gave Art the signal. Art ran a finger along the line of his jaw in reply and walked back to the cage where Allison sat behind the window waiting to cash out chips.
Art leaned close to the grill, talking low.
Allison’s voice sounded slightly alarmed.
That’s when Art stepped over to Tompzen’s table, pulled out a chair, leaned close, and asked the marine something.
Angelina kept smiling, saying just loud enough, “Of course Kalen can cover his marks.” She gave the private a sparkling look. “You can, can’t you, baby?”
Tompzen went stiff, which was Allison’s cue as she stepped out of the cage, bending down to whisper something in Art’s ear.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tompzen growled. “Of course I can cover my marks.”
That’s when Allison shot Dan a look. His cue as he ambled over, smile wide on his face. “So what’s happening here? I find half my crew at your table, Private. Whatever story you’re telling, it must be a doozy to lure my people away from work. No way I want to miss out on the punch line.”
Tompzen looked up, a half-dazed, half-angry look on his face.
“Honey,” Allison said, slipping her arm into Dan’s. “Kalen here has good credit, doesn’t he? I mean, advancing him five thousand was all right.”
Dan stopped short. Let his smile freeze the appropriate amount to indicate shock. He narrowed his eyes just the slightest as the marine watched. “What’s his ledger say?”
“He’s behind a little more than seventeen thousand, boss,” Art said quietly. “I thought Allison knew.”
“I’ll pay it,” Tompzen insisted stubbornly.
Dan gave them his bland smile this time, extending his arm toward the door in the back. “Ladies, gentlemen, let’s retire to my office. Angelina, darling, why don’t you keep an eye on things out here. Surely this is just a misunderstanding. Allison, would you get the books? Come on, Kalen. Let’s go figure this out. I’ll even stand you for another whiskey in the back.”
And, thus reassured, the marine stood, letting Art escort him back down the hallway, past the cribs, to Dan’s office.
Like leading a lamb to slaughter. After closing the office door behind him, Dan poured the man another drink. Handed it to him, and gestured. “Have a seat. This is probably just a math error. It’s not like Allison to miss one of these things. How’s the Supervisor, by the way? I hear that some medicine woman from out in the bush has the most magical ointment. That it’s healing up the mobber cuts like a miracle.”
“She’s coming along,” Tompzen said, looking more than a little rattled now. He was clutching his tumbler of whiskey as if it were a talisman.
“And miracle of miracles, that fucking little quetzal hasn’t eaten anyone in the hospital yet? Go figure. Of course, half the town’s packing loaded weapons itching to see the little terror step out onto the street.”
Allison entered with the book, settling behind Dan’s desk. Art had taken a position slightly behind and to Tompzen’s left. Art was right-handed. Perfect position if he had to sap the marine in the back of the head.
Tompzen now sat bolt upright as Allison opened a page and ran her finger down a column. “Oh,” she said softly.
“Oh?” Dan asked.
Allison raised her eyes. “Kalen’s total is seventeen thousand, seven hundred and fifty. I mean, it just built up slowly. Four hundred, five-fifty. A couple of thousand. Another couple of thousand. Then five thousand today.”
“Allison?” Dan said testily.
“Your call,” she told him coolly. “You said to mark his account good. Who was I to deny an account that you said was good, Dan?”
“I am good!” Tompzen cried irritably. “I mean, I just didn’t know how much it was. Like Allison said, a little here, a little there.”
“Yeah, it adds up,” Art growled. “So, okay, we’re in the shit. How do we work this out? I mean, boss, do we take it up with Spiro? Or go straight to the Supervisor? This is a pretty big hole to fill.”
Dan enjoyed the sight of quick-rising sweat; it now left a sheen on Tompzen’s cheeks. The marine swallowed hard, realizing just how deep in he was.
“Now, now, Art, back down. The last thing we want to do is take it up with Spiro. Not until some damn fool puts a gun to our heads. No, no.”
Dan stepped around, bottle in hand, and poured another splash into Tompzen’s glass. Meeting the panicked marine’s eyes, he kindly asked, “You can’t cover any seventeen thousand SDRs, am I right?”
“I’ll figure it out, Dan. I swear. I mean, damn. If Aguila ever finds out?” He winced. “Shit, they’d shoot me. I mean, I’ve been watching that woman. She’s already pissed about the mine being off schedule and the fucking trees taking over. And then she gets cut up by mobbers. Now’s not the time to get in her shit. And she was dead serious about The Jewel being off limits.”
“So, we work around it,” Dan told him, a reassuring tone in his voice.
“Boss, we can’t afford to be stiffed,” Art muttered. “Not for seventeen thousand! Hey, I like Kalen, too. But word gets out that you let him walk owing seventeen k, and we might as well close the fucking doors and call ourselves suckers.”
“Then what, Art? Take it out on poor Tompzen, here?” Dan asked.
The marine turned another shade of pale.
“People who short us have a habit of . . .” Art didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t need to. Tompzen had gone spring-wire tense as the cold realization ran through him.
“No!” Dan barked. “Look, Art, Kalen’s not one of those shitty little pricks.” Dan fixed on the marine’s nervous eyes. “Kalen, you say you’re good for it. I say you’re good for it.”
“But, boss!” Art cried.
“There’s other things than money,” Dan insisted patiently. “I mean, okay. Kalen, you don’t have the seventeen k, right? How about we work this off in other ways?”
“What other ways?” The man swallowed hard.
“Easy stuff. Favors. I mean, you don’t really like that Supervisor of yours, do you? You’ve never really come out and said it—a point in your favor by the way—but you think Aguila’s a snappy, spoiled, Corporate cunt, right? She’s running that mine down there like she’s a tin god. And a couple of days back, didn’t I hear you say you wished the damn mobbers had finished the job?”
Tompzen, scared stiff, jerked the faintest of nods.
“Yeah,” Dan settled a haunch on his desk and gave the marine a knowing smile. “Hey, you’re among friends. We’re all on the same side here. Me, I’ve had more than my share of problems with Aguila. Given half a chance, the slit would cut my throat in a second. Good thing I got out from under her contract.”
Dan paused to let the words sink in, then added, “You could, too. There’s a way out of this for a really smart man. Let’s face facts: Aguila can’t make it. Not if what I hear is true. The forest is going to win. It’s overrunning her farm. And now the wildlife is whittling away the people down there. Even came within a pendejo’s width of killing Aguila, high and mighty Supervisor that she is. They’re going to have to move the smelter, or watch the trees take it. It’s just a matter of time, right?”
Tompzen frowned slightly, nodded. “She’s losing.”
Dan set the bottle on the desk and crossed his arms. “Of course she is. She might have been ‘God and Thunder’ back in Solar System, a Corporate Supervisor with all the delusions of invincibility. But Donovan doesn’t take Corporate orders. So, the question remains: What happens when she fails? What does a man like you—a man who plans ahead—look forward to after Aguila’s plans go to shit?”
“I’m still a marine. Have to take whatever orders Spiro gives.”
“Kalen, think larger. Me? I stepped off Turalon expecting to herd cattle. What kind of future is that? But, as in all things, Donovan had already attended to the damn cows. Yet here I am. Outside of Aguila, I’m the richest man on this planet. Master of my own empire. People live and die at my command. What could you do if you had the opportunity? What heights could you rise to if you were on the right team?”
Tompzen winced, smart enough to sense the trap. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t want you shot for breaking Aguila’s rules! And you do owe me seventeen grand. But, if you have the balls, if you’re smart enough, you could come out of this in a year or so with everything you’ve ever dreamed.” A beat. “Assuming you can dream large enough, and that you can use your head.”
Tompzen worked his lips. Shot a glance at Allison who sat with her finger on his column in the ledger book. The poor sap knew that Art was behind him for a reason, and it wasn’t good. Knew that Dan held his life cupped in the palm of a hand. Yeah, he was smart enough to know when his neck was fully in the noose.
“Okay, I guess I’m in.”
“That’s the ticket!” Dan clapped his hands. Reached for the bottle, and poured another splash into Tompzen’s glass. “Welcome to the winning team. Now, why don’t you go out and collect Angelina. We’re slow. Take her back to her room for a couple of hours. Drop a little mash, and let her turn you every which way but loose. I mean, the lady has some serious talent when she’s allowed the time to use it.”
Tompzen was smiling in anticipation as he stood and hurried for the door.
“Bingo!” Dan said softly as the man closed the door behind him.