Net Force - Tom Clancy [76]
Perhaps he was trying to prove to himself that he could still relax and have a good time; if so, this had not been the way to demonstrate it. It was not yet midnight, and he was tired, of the clamor, of the din of machines and unhappy voices of people in the casino, and especially he was tired of Grigory the Snake. Already the man had made it clear to the other four players at the table that he was a Russian war hero. Soon, he would be talking about his medals. Ruzhyo did not wish to hear those stories again. Ever.
The days when Ruzhyo could party all night and then work the next day without sleeping were long past. Decadent living was for the young or the stupid.
Winters came to stand next to Ruzhyo. The American wore a black T-shirt with the logo of another casino, one shaped like a lion, upon the back. He wore Levi jeans, a broad belt with a large, shiny buckle and black cowboy boots. He had a brownish, watery-looking drink in one hand. He looked as if he belonged here. He sipped at the liquid and frowned. Lizard piss, he said. But he took another sip. Welcome to the adult version of Disneyland, pard. You catch that whole River of Death and Boat business on the way in? Dog-headed gods and Ra and all? Christ, it looks like a ride in Yesterday land. The Mummys Pyramid Boat to the Other Side.
Ruzhyo glanced at his watch.
Our boy racking up a few bucks? Winters asked.
He is ahead, yes. Three more hands and he plans to leave, to seek professional female company.
Now theres an idea. Might as well blow your money on blow jobs. That way you could have a good memory to show for it. Not like gambling and losing.
Grigory has a system.
Winters laughed, took a final slug of the drink, then put the glass of ice cubes on the floor next to his feet. A system? Hell, you got money and a system, the casino will send a plane to pick you up. Theyll give you your room and food and drinks for free. Only thing that works besides cheating at twenty-one is card-counting, and if they spot you doing that, they throw you out. And our boy Griggy aint got the smarts to count cards past the three or four in his hand, much less the multiple decks in the shoe. I grew up over a bar with poker tables and slot machines in it. Trust me, you stay at the tables, the house always wins.
Ruzhyo looked at Winters, then back at the Snake. I am going back to my room, he said.
Ill watch Griggy here for a while. Maybe keep him out of trouble.
Outside, it was cool, even after a day when the afternoon temperature had been near body heat. A gusty desert wind stirred the dry, dusty air. The fronds of the palm trees planted around the parking lots of the giant black pyramid streamed like organic flags. A bright beam of light erupted from the top of the structure, right at the apex. So brilliant and hot was the beam that it sucked dust into itself and hurled it upward and into the night sky. A searchlight would be pale and anemic by comparison with this laser-like ray shooting from the pyramid.
Disneyland for adults. Yes. Decadent in the extreme.
And what was he going to do when this assignment was over? Where would he go? Not home, to the suffocating memories he could not help but have every time he looked around. Perhaps he would move into a desert like the one surrounding this artificial green spot. Away from everybody, to become a recluse, kept company only by spiders and scorpions and real snakes. To be parched dry during the day and to lie on a cot in the chilly nights and listen to the wind scouring the sand, with perhaps the distant howl of a coyote ?
He smiled at his fantasy. No, he would not move to the desert. He would accept another assignment from Plekhanov-for there would always be more assignments from a man like Plekhanov-and he would do it. And he would keep on doing them until one day he came