Note: Here we go. I wrote this on a whim… reviews appreciated!… I think this story is pretty original so let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: Do not own CB. Obviously.
Any night on Mars was just as hot as the day in December. A young, lanky entrepreneur sat in his limo with the air conditioning on, his head back and his eyes closed. Had it not been for the meeting his executives urgently insisted he attend, he would have kept to himself in his mansion, spending most of the night in his indoor pool to cool off.
The communicator beside the easy-going millionaire flashed red, as insistent for his attention as his executives, but long ago he'd chosen to ignore it.
"Mr. Spiegel."
The gruff voice caused him to open his eyes. Lazily he reached over and pressed a button on a small control panel, causing the tinted window that separated him from the driver to lower.
"Yeah, Jet?"
"You really have to get out this time. We'll be at the casino in less than five minutes. I know you haven't bothered to look at a clock, but the meeting has nearly started."
Spike nodded and sat up, not sure whether he was going to hassle his limo-driver and body guard combo anymore. Truthfully, Jet Black, an ex-cop, had been the best for the double-role position than the string of others Spike had hired before him.
And it wasn't that he needed the protection-his skills were fine tuned enough to fend for himself-but appearances, at least in the minds of his execs, were important.
Spike lifted his arms and stretched, the jacket of the tuxedo he wore making the simple task harder to do than he would have liked. Back at his mansion, a blue suit hung in his closet he would have preferred to wear above all else, but again, his execs stressed appearances.
The limo gradually began to slow until eventually it was at a stop. Jet turned around in his seat, looking back at his young boss expectantly.
Spike shrugged and leaned back again, putting his arms behind his head.
"Do I have too?"
"Yes. You do."
Jet's voice was firm, and Spike could tell he was growing ever more annoyed. A slight, handsome smile spread across his mouth. "Just once more around the block?"
Session 1: Card Counter
When the door to the conference room opened on the highest floor of the casino, the flur of chitchat among the executives halted. Spike walked casually into the suddenly silent room, feeling awkward about being stared at, but not showing it.
"Evening gentlemen. Sorry I'm late."
Forty-three minutes late, to be exact.
He moved toward the end of the room and sat down in a large chair at the head of the table. Putting his feet up on the edge, he got comfortable, and didn't cease to notice the brief look of disapproval that flashed along the other's faces.
Dare someone ask him to put his feet down.
No one in the room had the authority to. Their living depended on him, and they were lucky enough he obeyed their requests about body-guards and tuxedos.
Most of the time.
"We have a rather pressing matter that needs to be discussed," the leader of the execs, at the other end of the table announced. "Mr. Spiegel, guards reviewing security tapes have discovered a card-counter. Now we've taken care of many of these in the past, but after identifying the woman, we've discovered that she's already employed in Vicious's string of casinos."
He was a tall man, dressed in a nice suit, but the front of his hair nearly covered the thick-rimmed glasses he wore.
Spike raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"Yes. And we understand that in the past, you and Vicious were close until your competitive businesses drove you apart. Now we believe this woman could be a spy of his, trying to blend in, although she terribly gave herself away by cheating at several games of Blackjack."
There was a pause.
"Do you know if there is information she could be after, Mr. Spiegel?"
For a few minutes, Spike was silent as several thoughts went across his mind. Yes, there was vital information about his casinos Vicious would love to discover. But, only he knew what it was. No where was it written down, stored in a computer, or locked in a safe.
Surely, Vicious would know that?
He himself undoubtedly had information about his own string that he trusted to hide only inside his mind, never to be shared. Really, a spy would be useless… Vicious had to be smarter than that.
Taking down his feet, Spike stood up from his chair. "I want to see the tape."
His execs seemed to smile and nod in unison, happy that their boss had taken a matter they brought up serious for once. The lead exec led him out of the room and down the grey hallway toward the elevator. They turned to a door on the left and walked inside, neglecting to turn on any lights. The black and white surveillance flashing across multiple small TV screens provided enough illumination to see.
A security man turned around in his chair to see them, a little surprised at Spike's rare appearance.
"Show us the tape of the blonde card counter spotted last night," the exec said.
The security man nodded, and within moments, the recording played at a decent angle on one of the larger screens. The exec glanced at Spike, who's eyes never left the woman. He stepped toward the TV slowly, taking in as much as he could about her. She was unfamiliar, but her hair, faintly waved, was as beautiful as her face.
"We don't need to worry about Vicious sending a spy, if that's what he's doing," Spike informed calmly.
Immediately the exec's expression showed his surprise. "Well… if you're certain of that, Mr. Spiegel. But I still think we should have someone look into-"
"I am. And no."
"She still card-counted. The woman must be taken care of in that respect at least."
Spike turned away from the screen, the glow of the surveillance no longer along his face.
"You're absolutely right. I'll take care of her."
"What? But that's not how its done! The owner of a casino going after-"
Spike started to whistle, interrupting him. He walked toward the door and twisted the handle, opening it and preparing to leave. But before he walked out into the hallway, he peered over his shoulder.
"I appreciate your concern, but I don't really care for the way things are done." Spike smiled then. "If I were you, I'd be careful next time to remember who's in charge."
After that, he left. Glancing at the security man, the exec sighed. He could still hear whistling growing faint down the hall, until the sound disappeared all together.