Book III: Casino Royale (V): Smoking & Ace

  --- Gregory Fischer ---

  Not carrying to skulk away in shadows, or at some table with a stranger, he instead made his way towards the balcony figuring that if the young man felt like snapping and picking a fight, at the very least Fischer should be able to leap over the balcony for a quick exit.

  The young man glanced his way, eyes drifting from his glass with a single raised brow.

  Fischer didn’t say anything, instead lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag from it. (Fuck I needed that.)

  The one thing no one told anyone when giving them super soldier drugs was just how addictive it all was. Even if his mundane smokes contained the bare minimum of everything, going through any level of stress without one had him feining for one. (Which means it’s a good thing I can now summon them on demand.)

  Eventually the young man next to him realized that he wasn’t actually there to bother him, and let out a huff of amusement before sipping at his glass.

  At which point it was Fischer’s turn to turn a raised brow his way.

  The young man gave a shake of his head. “Just realized you must be one of the newcomers to town.”

  He gave the young man a considering look, before asking, “What makes you say that?”

  “The fact that you’re actually standing next to me for one.” The young man shrugged a faint grin on his lips as he took another sip of his drink.

  Fischer gave the young man another once over, this time reaching out with what few esoteric senses he could, (and I’m seeing nada.) “Given how you’re not on fire or coughing up a plague, I’m not really seeing a reason not to.”

  The young man let out another huff before sarcastically drawling out, “High standards, almost surprised I could clear that bar.”

  “Looks like you might be missing that landing.” He warned the younger man.

  They were both silent for a moment before the younger man offered his hand, “Name ‘s Ace.”

  “Fischer.” He nodded, taking the hand and realizing there was a streak of white hair leading from the younger man’s scarred eye and to under his beanie.

  Ace let out a whistle, turning Fischer’s hand over but not actually holding onto it. “That’s some prosthetic. Don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like this before.”

  “It’s custom work.” He admitted, removing his hand. “Made by an old friend.”

  “Don’t suppose they’d be up for some more custom work? I know more than one person that would happily pay good money for something that reactive.” Ace told him.

  “She does, but she’s also not in this country.” Or he was pretty sure she wasn’t given how even as well traveled as he was he’d never heard of a casino town like this back home. Most of the casinos he’d seen having been stashed away in their city’s red light districts rather than the full blown glitz and glam he was seeing here.

  “Well, if she’s willing to travel…” Ace shrugged, leaving the offer on the table as he leaned back against the balcony rail. “So, given how you’re here, you here for the tournament?”

  “In a sense, I’m… sponsoring someone else entering on my behalf.” He explained.

  “Which is unusual.” The younger man noted looking intrigued. “Tell me, what were you willing to bet on someone else? Can learn a lot about what someone by that kind of bet.”

  “You going to tell me what you’re betting on this thing?” He asked, more because he disliked giving up that kind of information while on the job. (Especially when this kid might be our competition.)

  “I would, but I’m not actually gambling anything on my end.” Ace confessed, twirling his glass. “I’m more of… a financier and spectator for this event.”

  “You work for the casino.” He guessed.

  Ace smirked. “Yep, so I could find out what you’re betting but…”

  He let out a sigh. “I bet the memory of a spell I know, one that can be used to heal people.” A half truth that would hopefully keep the kid from digging deeper.

  Ace narrowed his eyes at Fischer before shaking his head. “Nah, not buying it. You aren’t the ‘healer’ sort, and rules wouldn’t accept something below a certain… metaphysical value. Especially not if you’re worming your way in as a last minute entry.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Maybe it’s a good healing spell.” He shrugged, pretty sure the actual value was in stocking a medical facility rather than being used to heal on a case by case basis. (Or that’s what I’d do if I was a shady conglomerate getting access to this kind of thing.)

  He had fewer issues handing out a street corner medical device than he did one of his more offensive spells. (Better to be responsible for saving bad lives, than for taking innocent ones.)

  Ace let out a small laugh as Fischer took another hit of his cigarette. “You’re a different sort. Kind of refreshing, honestly.”

  “Oh?” He asked, wondering if he could get some information or better yet a Story of some kind out of the kid.

  “Yeah, most of the people I deal with are gambling addicts, those trying to screw over the conglomerate, or those who know what happens when you do.” Ace explained, with a vague gesture towards everyone on the balcony. “I mean look at this place, half of these people are idiots wasting money and who knows what else trying to make it big when they barely understand how the game is played. And the other half?”

  Ace glanced towards the large grey haired man Fischer had spotted upon stepping onto the balcony. “I’m pretty sure that big guy is keeping an eye on me, whether a hit or a lookout for a heist I don’t know and honestly don’t care.” The younger man turned his attention to the woman with the coin. “Girl at the table, she either wants to sleep with me or kill me… might actually take that gamble myself.”

  (Knew he was experienced, but given how the other two are reacting to him pointing neither of them realized they were made.) A thought that was underlined by the spotted pair silently cursing before leaving the balcony.

  Despite himself he couldn’t help but let out his own huff of amusement. “Didn’t you just call half these people idiots for trying to hit it big?”

  “But I know how to play the game.” Ace assured him with a cocky grin that slowly faded as he watched the young woman leave. “Well, there are worse people to have trying to kill you than a sexy woman I guess.”

  “Everyone’s got their priorities.” He guessed, quite content to have no one trying to kill him when he could help it.

  “And what are your priorities, Fischer?” Ace asked him curiously. “Because I doubt you’d be betting your memories on someone for no apparent reason, and this isn’t the kind of place just anyone can get into.”

  “First priority?” He went ahead and killed the last of his smoke, much to the other man’s amusement. “Second priority? Doing my job.”

  Ace’s eyes narrowed a touch. “And that job is?”

  “Collecting Stories.” He admitted, aware that that was esoteric enough that most people would simply label him an information broker of sorts. “The kind that most people don’t like sharing or wouldn’t believe if I told them.”

  “Ooh, now that sounds like the kind of thing to have over a couple of drinks.” Ace grinned, before his eyes drifted towards a man in a suit stepping onto the balcony and tapping his watch. “Though it looks like that’s going to have to wait until later. I’ve got to get back to work since apparently no one else can do my job.”

  “Price of being competent.” He warned the younger man, remembering the jobs he both had and had not earned during his military days.

  “True.” Ace smirked with another shake of his head. “Seriously though, if you aren’t planning on causing too much trouble I’d love to hear whatever stories you’ve got later.”

  “Only if you’re willing to pay with a Story of your own.” He offered, inhaling the last of his cigarette.

  “I’ll consider it.” Ace assured him before leaving with a wave over his shoulder.

  (Well, at the very least there’s a line on something if this whole card tournament thing ends up a bust.) He figured as he put the butt of his cigarette out on the guard rail.

  Smoke fix secured, and nothing else keeping him here, Fischer made his way back inside before tracking the girls down to the bar where each of them had a colorful drink in hand. “Should you two be drinking before the big tournament?”

  “It helps settle the nerves, and as long as you don’t get tipsy you'll be fine.” Katarina assured him as she sipped at a clear drink he’d be willing to bet was just water.

  His eyes shifted towards Maeve’s crimson drink as his fellow Librarian finished off what appeared to be her third glass.

  Seeing his look the vampire rolled her eyes. “Thanks to my… inherent nature, alcohol doesn’t affect me the way it does others… Also I feel this has a lower alcohol content than what I’m actually used to.”

  He wasn’t sure if he believed that given how she’d been doing her best to get drunk the first time they met. (Then again she still put up a pretty solid fight afterwards so… vampire healing factor maybe?)

  “That said, I am enjoying these blood marys.” Maeve confessed, before raising a hand towards the bar tender.

  “And… how are you going to pay for that?” He had to ask. “Because if I recall you didn’t bring any money here.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m paying for the drinks. Least I can do for my heroine here.” Katarina told him before giving him a look. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Not a fan of alcohol unless I’m burning it.” He admitted, feeling like the last thing he wanted to mix with his chem smokes was something that would slow his mind down and impair his judgement. (Yeah, I’d rather stay smart.)

  “Suit yourself.” Katarina shrugged, before pulling out a small black device and downing her own glass. “That said, it does look like the opening ceremony is about to begin.”

  “Yeah, if this whole thing is one massive magic ritual we do not want to miss that.” He nodded, a faint grimace on his face as he recalled all the ways he knew how to turn a ritual into a bomb.

  While Maeve and Katarina took their drinks to go, the three of them left the bar and made their way back to the main room of the card tournament where he found most of their competition had gathered. The crowd numbering nearly a hundred if his count of the contestant wall was accurate.

  Everyone seemed to be staring at the staircase in the center of the room, leading up to what he guessed were the high roller tables up above as a familiar young man stepped forward with a pair of guards to either side of him.

  Next to him Katarina let out a whistle, drawing his attention. “This tournament must be bigger than I thought if they’re bringing out the Ace of the Casino Royale.”

  “Must be…” He agreed absent mindedly as his eyes met the younger man, who gave him a cocky grin while raising a glass in his direction.

  A/N: No choice this time, cutting the chapter in half to get something out since I missed last week’s update.

  That said, I do have an interesting idea. I’m starting a new story soon and had the idea to give it a tag line to describe it, like with a movie poster.

  So for The Black Briar Library, what would you say is a good Tag Line for this story? (I’ve got a couple ideas but want to hear yours.)