Satori - Don Winslow [115]
Nicholai found the game itself tedious beyond description, as he had for three long years in prison listening to the American guards play endless rounds of the childish game. Poker lacked nuance and creativity and was painfully puerile when compared to Go. It was a simple matter of risk analysis and money management, and basic mathematics dictated that five players over the course of a certain number of deals would basically receive the same hands. In that sense it was remotely similar to Go, as it involved decisions as to when to be aggressive and when to yield.
Nevertheless, he found the one-on-one battle against Bao Dai compelling. He was surprised at how badly he wanted to take the emperor’s money and beat him in front of Solange.
Speaking of a lack of nuance, he thought.
He picked up his cards to see that the deal had given him a pair of queens and a pair of tens. It was enough to stay in the betting for the draw, and he threw his chips in as Bao Dai raised the betting.
He got his card, the ten of clubs.
Bao Dai opened and Nicholai saw him and raised him.
Haverford tossed his cards on the table. “Not my night.”
Signavi looked hard at Nicholai, whose face was placid and unreadable. He grunted in disdain and pushed his chips in.
Bao Dai smiled across the table. “You’re bluffing.”
“All right.”
The emperor called and raised.
Nicholai and Signavi both saw the bet.
Bao Dai laid his cards out — a red flush.
“Full house,” Nicholai said, and swept up the chips.
Signavi swore in disgust.
Bao Dai only smiled, but Nicholai observed the slight flush of anger and frustration on his cheeks. He glanced up to Solange, who quickly turned away, walked to the bar, and fetched Bao Dai a fresh whiskey.
Nicholai looked at his own stack of chips. He had over two thousand piastres’ worth — about $120,000.
Bay Vien had the buck, ordered a fresh pack, and called for seven-card stud. The dealer shuffled and Bay Vien cut.
Nicholai looked at his two down cards.
It wasn’t promising — a four and five of clubs.
His first up card was a jack of hearts.
Bao Dai showed a queen of diamonds, and bet.
Nicholai stayed in.
The next round brought him the eight of clubs and Bao Dai the queen of spades. The emperor looked up, smiled at him, and raised by three hundred piastres. Nicholai tossed in the chips to see his next card.
A jack of diamonds.
“Pair of jacks showing,” the dealer said.
Haverford folded.
Bao Dai drew a deuce. Still the high hand showing, he bet another five hundred piastres, and Nicholai stayed in to get the six of clubs.
The emperor drew the queen of clubs.
“Three of a kind showing. Queen high.”
Solange’s eyes looked almost sorrowful. Bao Dai bet another five hundred, sat back, and looked at Nicholai. “Do you still prefer games that match player against player?”
Nicholai wasn’t sure if he was matched against a player, or against a player and the house, but he answered, “Yes, my preferences don’t seem to have changed.”
“So …”
Bay Vien folded.
Signavi also threw in his cards. “It’s not my night, I see.” He got up, went to the bar, and poured himself a Pernod.
“So it comes down to you and me,” Bao Dai said to Nicholai.
“As it was meant to be,” Nicholai said. Insolently, he looked directly at Solange, who turned her face away.
“The lady is tired, I think,” Bao Dai said. “Shall we make this the last hand?”
“Fine with me,” Haverford said. Bay and Signavi quickly assented.
Bao Dai raised an eyebrow at Nicholai.
“As long as there’s a winner and a loser,” Nicholai said.
“I think I can assure you of that.”
I wonder if you can, Nicholai thought, recalling that the emperor’s ally and business partner had ordered the fresh deck, owned the casino and the dealer. I’ve made a fortune tonight, and still have enough left to purchase a fresh start in life.
The emperor has three of a kind showing. Judging from his aggressive betting, he has another card down. I have only one chance to beat even his up cards — I have to draw a seven of clubs. The odds are overwhelmingly against me.
Bao Dai reached up and