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PX Poker Night: Part 4 – The NCO Club
Hammer opened the door to a room full of people. It was startling to see so many people in one place – it had been that long since any more than three of them were together.
They were all there: Lynn Carter, the hot chick. Laura Dunsany, the pissy administrative assistant. Brian Lundy, the not-too-bright groundskeeper. Robert Bach, the former special agent. Clark Smith, who still had his tattoos from his gang days. O’Shea, Campbell, and Long were there too. They were all seated around the table, a deck of cards out, cigarettes and ashtrays smoldering. And over it all lorded Sprague.
Major Louis Sprague was a large man in his forties. He had dishwater pale blue eyes and blond feathered hair that gave him an appearance not unlike that of an eagle. It was marred only by the green visor he wore in his role of dealer of the poker game. A cigar dangled from his bloodless lips.
Long nodded at Hammer. O’Shea flashed a grin at Guppy. And Campbell just stood off to the side, arms crossed.
Sprague’s predator gaze focused on Caprice as he entered the room. “You. Why weren’t you at your post?”
Caprice’s expression of resignation meant he knew exactly where this was going. “I took a walk.”
“You took a walk?”
Caprice shrugged. “If you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty boring around here.”
“Boring, huh?” Sprague laughed. “You hear that? He said this place is boring!”
Nobody laughed except Lundy, who was too stupid to know not to.
Sprague stood up. “Now you listen to me, @$$wipe. I’m the king here and this is my kingdom. And you’re not a prince, or a knight, or even a serf. You’re a god damned peasant, and you live or die in this place by my good graces. Right now you’re teetering on a knife’s edge, so I suggest you choose carefully what you say next or I’ll bounce your ass out of here so hard your momma will feel it.”
“That’s a very nice speech,” said Caprice, “but don’t you think—“
“That’s it.” Sprague tossed a key to Campbell. “Take this joker back to the unused dormitories and lock his dumb ass in there until I decide what to do with him.”
Campbell cracked his knuckles. “With pleasure.” Campbell walked over to Caprice and grabbed his shoulder.
Sprague turned to the others. “This is what happens when you disobey orders. Say goodbye to your career.” He addressed Campbell again. “If he resists, punch him in the face.”
“Please,” said Campbell with a menacing grin. “Resist.”
Caprice sighed. “I’m the lucky one. I don’t have to spend it with Major Douchebag.”
“Get him out of here,” snarled Sprague.
Campbell marched him out. The door slammed shut behind him.
“Where was I?” Sprague started dealing cards. “Oh yeah. The van parked in the graveyard is to be avoided. Don’t interfere with the visiting staff’s operations. You’re all confined to the base until the visiting staff has left.” He dealt a full hand to the two spots with empty stools. “So take a seat boys and ante up. We’re going to be here for awhile.”
Hammer opened the door to a room full of people. It was startling to see so many people in one place – it had been that long since any more than three of them were together.
They were all there: Lynn Carter, the hot chick. Laura Dunsany, the pissy administrative assistant. Brian Lundy, the not-too-bright groundskeeper. Robert Bach, the former special agent. Clark Smith, who still had his tattoos from his gang days. O’Shea, Campbell, and Long were there too. They were all seated around the table, a deck of cards out, cigarettes and ashtrays smoldering. And over it all lorded Sprague.
Major Louis Sprague was a large man in his forties. He had dishwater pale blue eyes and blond feathered hair that gave him an appearance not unlike that of an eagle. It was marred only by the green visor he wore in his role of dealer of the poker game. A cigar dangled from his bloodless lips.
Long nodded at Hammer. O’Shea flashed a grin at Guppy. And Campbell just stood off to the side, arms crossed.
Sprague’s predator gaze focused on Caprice as he entered the room. “You. Why weren’t you at your post?”
Caprice’s expression of resignation meant he knew exactly where this was going. “I took a walk.”
“You took a walk?”
Caprice shrugged. “If you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty boring around here.”
“Boring, huh?” Sprague laughed. “You hear that? He said this place is boring!”
Nobody laughed except Lundy, who was too stupid to know not to.
Sprague stood up. “Now you listen to me, @$$wipe. I’m the king here and this is my kingdom. And you’re not a prince, or a knight, or even a serf. You’re a god damned peasant, and you live or die in this place by my good graces. Right now you’re teetering on a knife’s edge, so I suggest you choose carefully what you say next or I’ll bounce your ass out of here so hard your momma will feel it.”
“That’s a very nice speech,” said Caprice, “but don’t you think—“
“That’s it.” Sprague tossed a key to Campbell. “Take this joker back to the unused dormitories and lock his dumb ass in there until I decide what to do with him.”
Campbell cracked his knuckles. “With pleasure.” Campbell walked over to Caprice and grabbed his shoulder.
Sprague turned to the others. “This is what happens when you disobey orders. Say goodbye to your career.” He addressed Campbell again. “If he resists, punch him in the face.”
“Please,” said Campbell with a menacing grin. “Resist.”
Caprice sighed. “I’m the lucky one. I don’t have to spend it with Major Douchebag.”
“Get him out of here,” snarled Sprague.
Campbell marched him out. The door slammed shut behind him.
“Where was I?” Sprague started dealing cards. “Oh yeah. The van parked in the graveyard is to be avoided. Don’t interfere with the visiting staff’s operations. You’re all confined to the base until the visiting staff has left.” He dealt a full hand to the two spots with empty stools. “So take a seat boys and ante up. We’re going to be here for awhile.”