((Poker Game Improv))
Jan. 14th, 2007 10:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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groznyj_gradThe night after the Greenhouse Explosion
***
Chemical Storage Shed number 12 had a sub-basement. The whole warehouse had been built on top of a stable and the old cellar was still standing beneath it. It wasn't a secret, simply a room not on any map. The technicians or any other of the myriad of support personnel knew where it was. For those who couldn't get into the officer's club, it was the local speakeasy. Even some of the officers knew about it. Mostly because from time to time... there was a poker game.
Marco the Cuban quarter master with his thick black beard presented the rules. "The Americans play with chips. We comrades, we play with their money" the quarter master grinned and stood up grabbing the metal briefcase and opening it upside down. Stacks of currency fell onto the table. "The finest counterfeit unfit for our spies" the Cuban said, each player bought their tokens exchanging real money for the American fakes. Khostov had suggested the idea. At first the Cuban didn't understand but after playing one against one with stacks of the fake bills sharing a bottle of vodka, he had seen the light.
There were four people in the room including Marco. "No I don't think he'll be coming" Marco said answering a question from the man on his left. He turned his head to the man on his right "Non, non" Marco said. Marco looked around the table. "Everyone heard the... fireworks last night?" he said. He dealt the cards talking while smoking his cigar. Everyone in the room laughed. The Cuban simply smiled a little. "Khostov's sister was inside" the Cuban said. Dead silence for a few minutes except for Marco who concentrated each hand. "What what his name" the Cuban frowned either it was from his cards or frustration at the words on the tip of his tongue. "I can never remember that man's name" he said. He rubbed his beard and snapped his fingers. "L'Albinos! He helped Khostov smuggle her out of France, three years back. I wasn't on base at that time but Nafaniel told me about it" he said threw a hundred into the pile. "Damn shame. Ante in" he said.
((Edit, the version uploaded was not the spell-corrected one. This is.))
***
Chemical Storage Shed number 12 had a sub-basement. The whole warehouse had been built on top of a stable and the old cellar was still standing beneath it. It wasn't a secret, simply a room not on any map. The technicians or any other of the myriad of support personnel knew where it was. For those who couldn't get into the officer's club, it was the local speakeasy. Even some of the officers knew about it. Mostly because from time to time... there was a poker game.
Marco the Cuban quarter master with his thick black beard presented the rules. "The Americans play with chips. We comrades, we play with their money" the quarter master grinned and stood up grabbing the metal briefcase and opening it upside down. Stacks of currency fell onto the table. "The finest counterfeit unfit for our spies" the Cuban said, each player bought their tokens exchanging real money for the American fakes. Khostov had suggested the idea. At first the Cuban didn't understand but after playing one against one with stacks of the fake bills sharing a bottle of vodka, he had seen the light.
There were four people in the room including Marco. "No I don't think he'll be coming" Marco said answering a question from the man on his left. He turned his head to the man on his right "Non, non" Marco said. Marco looked around the table. "Everyone heard the... fireworks last night?" he said. He dealt the cards talking while smoking his cigar. Everyone in the room laughed. The Cuban simply smiled a little. "Khostov's sister was inside" the Cuban said. Dead silence for a few minutes except for Marco who concentrated each hand. "What what his name" the Cuban frowned either it was from his cards or frustration at the words on the tip of his tongue. "I can never remember that man's name" he said. He rubbed his beard and snapped his fingers. "L'Albinos! He helped Khostov smuggle her out of France, three years back. I wasn't on base at that time but Nafaniel told me about it" he said threw a hundred into the pile. "Damn shame. Ante in" he said.
((Edit, the version uploaded was not the spell-corrected one. This is.))
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