Don Winslow - Satori

Nicholai sat with a squat glass of single-malt scotch straight up and looked at Solange, who stood over Bao Dai’s shoulder like some kind of good-luck fetish. It was demeaning, he thought, demeaning and cheap and far beneath her.

Unless, he thought, she is playing a role that the Americans have cast her in. Just as you are playing a part in their melodrama. But what is her role?

Bao Dai neatly stacked his chips into several piles. Haverford sat to Nicholai’s left, Bay to his right.

They cut cards for first deal. Bay won and chose five-card draw.

Nicholai picked up his hand.

Two hours later, the room was full of stale smoke and fresh tension. Haverford was all but out, as was Bay Vien. Signavi had a modest stack of chips in front of him, but Nicholai and Bao Dai were the big winners and headed for a showdown.

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 brushed the top of Solange’s hand.

Nicholai pushed his chips in.

The deal came.

Bao Dai reached for his down card.

Nicholai said, “Let’s neither of us look.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s neither of us look, Your Excellency,” Nicholai suggested as he pushed all his chips toward the center. “And let’s do make this the last hand.”

“That’s insane,” Haverford said.

Solange’s green eyes flashed like emeralds.

“He could already have four queens under there and know it,” Haverford hissed.

Nicholai was aware of that. He looked at Bay to see if he could discern whether the fix was in.

He couldn’t.

Bao Dai took a deep breath and then pushed his chips in.

“I see you,” he said. Then he looked to Bay and asked, “Is my credit good here?”

“Of course,” Bay said jokingly, but his face looked strained, as if he hoped that the emperor wasn’t going to do what he feared.

But he was.

“I see you,” Bao Dai repeated, “and I raise you two thousand piastres.”

“I don’t have it.”

“I know,” Bao Dai said pleasantly. “I warned you this was no limits. The sad fact is, you had no business being in this game. I played you like a… puppet.”

Bay looked disgusted. Signavi found a reason to look down at the table as Haverford saw something fascinating on the floor. They were all embarrassed for Bao Dai. He had humiliated himself as a man.

But Solange looked straight at Bao Dai, and her expression was one of contempt. It was ephemeral, it quickly shifted to a mask of indifference, but Nicholai saw it, and it was victory enough.

“Good night, then,” Nicholai said, and started to get up.

“Your credit is good here,” Bay said to him, glaring at Bao Dai.

“To the limit of two thousand piastres?” Nicholai asked.

“Exactly.”

Is Bay’s offer sincere, or is the deck stacked and he’s setting me up for an even bigger fall? I saved you from a bullet, Nicholai thought, looking at him. Would you set me up now?

Nicholai sat back down.

He looked at Solange, who looked back at him.

“I call your bet,” Nicholai said.

Bao Dai turned his down cards and showed his hand.

His first card was the queen of hearts.

Four of a kind.

He looked at Nicholai and his leer said, I told you that you had no place here. My hand, my pot, my woman.

Nicholai turned his remaining down card.

The seven of clubs.

“MY GOD, YOU’RE RICH,” De Lhandes observed.

It was true – Nicholai had taken enough money from Bao Dai to set himself up for life.