AS2.06: Paper Caper by Star24
Disclaimer: Dark Angel and its characters are property and copyright Twentieth Century Fox and James Cameron and Charles Eglee. This original story is copyright 2003 Star24.
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Chapter Eight
Odessa Social Club
Sketchy knocked nervously on the nondescript door of the Odessa Social Club. He doubted that he'd be recognized by its denizens, but his hands were sweaty nonetheless. The small panel in the door slid open and he adopted a confident stance.
"Mitch told me to come," he stated to the eyes that regarded him coldly through the small square opening.
The only reply was a grunt and he was about to turn away, when there was the sound of a bolt being thrown and the door swung open.
"Thanks, man." Sketchy nodded at the burly guard and walked past him with a swagger in his step.
The room in front of him was a montage of color dominated by glittering red and gold. A hum of conversation mixed with the whirring and clicking of roulette wheels and dice tables. Beautiful young women in provocative attire attended men dressed in expensive suits. There was an aura of wealth and privilege, overlaid by the scent of greed and in some cases, desperation. Scantily clad young women wandered the room carrying trays of drinks and hors doeuvres which they offered gratis to the patrons.
"You are needing some assistance?" A smooth voice broke into Sketchy's concentration. "I haven't seen you here before."
Sketchy turned to look at the well-dressed man who was standing next to him with a questioning look on his face. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore an expensive Italian suit. Gold rings gleamed on his fingers and his shirt was open, showing off a thick gold chain looped around his neck.
"Um, Mitch told me to come here. He said you had the best action in town." Sketchy stammered.
The man looked him over critically, and Sketchy was glad he'd used some of his advance money from the paper to outfit himself in a pair of knife-pleated charcoal gray slacks and a cream silk sport jacket.
" Mitch. Good man. How do you know him?" the man wanted to know.
"We ah went to prep school together." Sketchy informed the man.
At the mention of prep school and its implications of a moneyed background, the man unbent. He held out his hand to Sketchy. "Vladimir Rossoff."
"Theodore Calvin. Of the Mt. Rushmore Calvins." Sketchy informed him, shaking his hand.
"I don't think I know that family." Vladimir said.
"They're not from around here. Middle America you know. I came out here to work in the financial industry. Stocks, bonds you know the kind of things." Sketchy said vaguely.
Vladimir nodded, seemingly satisfied. "What will be your pleasure this evening my friend? The dice?
Roulette?"
"I'm more of a poker man." Sketchy informed him.
Vladimir caught the eye of a voluptuous blonde dressed in a tight, silver sequined mini-dress and snapped his fingers. She excused herself from the group she was in and strolled toward them, making the most of her clearly displayed assets. Not a few pairs of eyes watched her progress across the floor.
"Galena, this is Theodore. He's a friend of Mitch's and one of the Mt. Rushmore Calvins. I'd like you to take good care of him tonight." Vladimir introduced the two of them.
Galena looked at Sketchy and purred in accented English, "Of course. What do you like to play?"
"Um, poker." Sketchy struggled to keep his composure.
"You come with Galena, and I make sure you are well taken care of." She placed a hand on Sketchy's arm
and gently pulled him with her, toward a poker table in a far corner. Vladimir watched for a moment and then moved off to circulate around the room.
* * * * *
Three hours later Sketchy was feeling no pain, and the money he had arrived with was almost gone. Galena had stayed by his side the entire time, making sure he never went without a drink, and urging him along in his bets.
Sketchy looked blearily at the small stack of chips that were all that remained of the substantial stake that he had begun the evening with.
"Maybe I shood try anosher game," he said slurring his words.
"No, no. You are going to get lucky this time. Galena feels it right here." Galena took Sketchy's hand and pressed it to her ample chest. Sketchy's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. Galena reached over and shoved his remaining chips into the center of the table, and gave a small nod to the dealer.
The hand went quickly and at the end, Sketchy watched in fascination as the dealer swept up his remaining chips.
"You want more chips?" Galena asked him.
"Oh uh, no, I uh better get going. It's late." Sketchy stammered rising shakily from the table. Galena grabbed his arm.
"I will walk you to the door."
When they reached the exit she looked up at him seductively. "You come back tomorrow? Galena has a feeling you will be lucky then."
"Oh uh, sure, tomorrow…" Sketchy trailed off as he found himself outside in the alley. Galena smiled at him from the doorway.
"You come back tomorrow and bring lots more money. Then Galena will show you how to win, and we will share a private champagne supper after? Yes?"
Before Sketchy could answer, the door closed and he was alone in the alley.
"Ok…gotta get home now..." he muttered to himself as he stumbled out of the alley. Somehow he managed to make it back to his apartment and inside. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the floor and then passed out on his sofa.
Street Corner in Sector 9
The woman stood nervously on the corner, keeping herself just out of the circle of anemic light that was cast by the nearby streetlight. She glanced at her watch and then shifted back and forth on her high heels.
A black car rounded the corner silently, and she jumped as it pulled up just beyond the light. She stood for a moment, and then slowly walked to where the car was parked.
The back window slid down. "Did you get it?" It was the man from the restaurant and the woman was the one who had dined with him several nights previously.
"I have it."
"Where is it?"
"How do I know that when I give it to you that will be the end of it?" She demanded.
The man held out an envelope to her. She grabbed it from his hand and a pile of photographs slid out.
She flipped through them quickly. "Where are the negatives?"
"I have them here. They're yours, once you give me the manuscript."
She paused but then reached into the large shoulder bag she carried and pulled out a thick envelope. "It's here."
A well manicured hand reached from the car window and took the envelope from her. There was a silence, and she shifted her weight from side to side as she waited.
"Very nice, exactly what I wanted." He finally said.
"The negatives, please?" She held out a hand.
The man chuckled. "Come now, Janine. Wouldn't you like to come back to the Steinlitz with me once more? We had such lovely times there."
"No, you bastard."
"Tsk, tsk. No need for names. I don't remember you hating me when I was between those lovely legs of yours. In fact I seem to remember you begging for more."
"Carlos, give me the negatives. You have what you wanted." Her voice was pleading now.
The car door opened and he reached out and pulled her inside. Caught off balance she fell onto his lap. She struggled briefly, but his hands were busy and his mouth was on hers. The chauffeur had come around the car and she dimly heard the door close behind her.
"I'm done with you. I don't want to…" she protested weakly.
"Ah, but you and I both know that you do want to…"
There was silence in the car after that, broken only by the whisper of clothing slipping free, followed by soft moans and murmuring. The chauffeur drove slowly in circles around the city, not wanting to know what was happening behind the opaque, sound proofed partition that separated him from the occupants of the car.
Much later at a signal from the rear he pulled the car to a curb not far from where they had picked up the woman. The back door opened and she stumbled out, tugging at her clothing.
"Don't forget your pictures, my dear," he said.
She reached in and snatched the envelope from Carlos' hand.
"I will call you soon?"
"Don't ever call me again. I'm done with you."
"When you change your mind, give me a call." He laughed softly and she stood there staring, the envelope containing the pictures held loosely in one hand, as the car pulled away from the curb.
End of Chapter Eight
