Suddenly, bells began to ring from the top of the chapel on the other side of the courtyard. The dinging sound echoed through the sleepy city as dark clouds moved across the face of the moon once again. Carlos Crespi was dead.
Part 1
Chapter 1
“I’m all in.”
Sean Wyatt stared across at the opponent. Sean’s icy gray eyes were calm, almost matter-of-fact in their appearance. He pushed all of his chips across the rounded line on the green felt of the poker table.
He was a terrible bluffer. A fact he’d recounted many times throughout his life in work and with women. He didn’t like bluffing when playing cards either. Fortunately, at the moment he knew he had the best hand.
The other man, young and reckless, had bet twice. Now, he looked uncertain. Sean thought the he’d seemed a little nervous since the moment the kid sat down at the table.
It was day two of the $1000 dollar buy-in poker tournament at The Rio and clearly the young man was rattled. He looked about 25 or 26, but unlike some of the cockier, younger players Wyatt had come across in recent times, the guy across from him seemed a little greener and far less sure of himself.
The opponent’s dark, curly hair was disheveled. Beads of sweat formed on his head above a long, sloping nose. His greenish eyes looked panicked behind black wire-framed glasses. The sound of chips clicking throughout the room echoed loudly, slightly dramatizing the moment further.
Wyatt made a quick note of how the kid’s hands shook terribly when he had a big hand. At the moment, they were making the whole table vibrate.
Sean knew that meant the guy probably had a big pocket pair lower than Wyatt’s two black aces that lay in wait, face down on the table.
They’d made it into the money hours earlier and everyone in the Rio was elated to have gotten their $1000 back, plus about that much more in prize money. Sean always laughed at people who only cared about making it into the payout. Where was the fun in that? The thrill was trying to make the final table and winning the whole thing.
Sean had needed some R&R for the week. Since he knew Tommy would be busy for a while trying to decipher their recent discovery, he figured a little time off wouldn’t be a problem.
He’d asked Allyson to come out to Vegas with him, but she had been ordered back to Washington and reassigned, or so she’d said. Sean wasn’t surprised that she’d been sent back into the field so quickly. That was one of the reasons he’d left the agency after such a short term. Another mission always waited.
Part of him had wanted to see where things with her might go but there were a whole list of problems with trying to date someone who worked for Axis. Living through it for several years had showed him that. So, he did what he always did and traveled alone. He didn’t mind, except for the lack of conversation. Sometimes that was a good thing.
He’d caught an early morning flight out of Atlanta two days earlier and thanks to the assistance of an old friend, a suite at The Venetian had opened up miraculously the day of his arrival. It was nice to have friends.
“I call,” the younger player said. The young opponent’s voice snapped Sean’s attention back to the poker table. The kid flipped over a pair of queens. Pretty much what Sean had figured.
He responded by turning over his pair of aces and watched agony wash over the other player’s face almost instantly. The young man knew he only had two cards in the deck of 52 that could save him, a hope beyond desperation.
The dealer discarded the top card and turned over the fifth and final card on the table, the queen of clubs, giving the Sean’s opponent three of a kind. The young man yelled out a cheer of ecstatic relief and raised his fists in triumph. A combination of groans and jubilation erupted from the crowd. The other players at the table said nothing but were clearly stunned at the outcome. Sean just smiled cynically as he watched the dealer rake all of his chips over to his opponent.
Wyatt stood and reached out a hand to the man who had just eliminated him from the tournament. The guy calmed himself down enough to accept the gentlemanly gesture and clasped Sean’s hand clumsily.
“Nice hand, kid.” Sean said.
“Thanks. Wow. I’m sorry man. That sucks.”
Sean laughed. “In poker, never say you’re sorry.” Then Sean winked at him, “besides, these kinds of things come around eventually.”
The younger player smiled, understanding what he meant and went back to his seat, exhilarated.
Sean headed over to the cashier to pick up his winnings and, a few minutes later, made for the door. As he walked towards the exit a few people consoled him on the bad beat he’d just received. One particular Canadian professional had stopped him on his way out.
“You are way too good not to have won one of these things,” was all the man had said. Maybe, Sean thought but he knew he didn’t really need the money. The young gun who’d just taken his chips probably had a lifetime’s worth of student loans to pay off. So he was okay with the loss. He stepped outside into the young night. Warm desert air greeted him, instantly causing his mind to forget the cool air-conditioned comfort from where he’d just come. Nine o’clock at night in late fall, and it still felt like late spring back home.
On the horizon, just over the mountains surrounding the basin in which the city rested, a pale remnant of sunset gave its last gasp against the coming darkness. Wyatt had visited Las Vegas on several occasions and every single time he’d been fascinated by the weather. The city was always sunny and extremely hot in the summers. He remembered strolling down the strip one day in June thinking he’d accidentally walked into a huge oven. The fall wasn’t so bad. Days were in the low to mid 80s and the evenings cooled off considerably.
Back home in the south, people complained it was too hot in the summer time. And while the humidity certainly made it seem warmer, at least there was a cooling breeze that soothed the senses somewhat. Out in the Nevada desert, the wind only seemed to make it worse like someone was turning on a heating fan.
Sean started to make his way to a cab, dancing through the mass of people coming and going to the Rio. There was no shortage of taxis lined up outside the casino and Sean hailed the closest one. A few minutes later he was in the back seat, en route to his hotel
The ride back to The Venetian was only five to ten minutes, although it seemed like the cab driver took the “scenic route.” On the Las Vegas Boulevard, otherwise known as “the strip,” pedestrians crowded the busy sidewalks. Some were sober, others considerably less so, taking full advantage of the city’s lack of laws concerning walking around with enormous amounts of visible alcohol.
Some people carried vessels that were shaped like plastic guitars with straws sticking out of them. Others just carried giant cups filled with booze of various kinds. Sean wondered how good those drinks could possibly be, made from cheap liquor and watered down with mixers. They must have done the trick, though. Revelers laughed and stumbled around the city with huge smiles on their faces.
A colorful array of lights and digital signs beamed down the main strip with enormous monstrosities of rising above them into the desert night sky. Paris, Cosmopolitan, Caesar’s Palace, Aria, Wynn, Mandalay Bay, Bellagio, and MGM Grand had all taken their places as some of the more upscale locations. Some of the less fancy casinos stood out like an eyesore, badly in need of renovation to keep up with the esthetic appeal of the newer venues.
The taxi pulled up to the entrance of Venetian’s main lobby and Sean’s mind returned to his present location. He loved The Venetian and it’s neighbor, The Palazzo. He paid the taxi driver and left an extra five on top as a tip.