A/N: In the movies people always bet unorthodox things at the card tables. Think we can get anyone to bet the ownership of Chuck?
A/N2: That master of spy fiction, Ian Fleming, centered an entire book around a card game at a casino (Casino Royale). I'm not nearly that ambitious (or talented).
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It was Tuesday morning, and Sarah, Chuck and Casey spent much of the morning in the extensive gym in the basement of the Magic Hotel. After a warm up, they began with weightlifting (using free weights). Casey was much stronger than Chuck was, but Chuck was gaining strength quickly and, at least according to Casey, was maintaining good form in his lifts. Casey seemed proud of him, or maybe just satisfied. It was hard to tell. They ended their workouts together with a three mile run around the Strip.
After a late breakfast, they took the Crown Vic out to Goodsprings to check out the Blackman Group compound, but the drive-by didn't give them any particularly useful information. There was a locked gate with a uniformed armed guard and nothing else to see from the road. Chuck had used the time in the car to learn about Colonel Blackman, looking in the Defense Department files which were open to him with his Federal clearances. Tony Blackman wasn't a Colonel at all, which Sid had suspected. Three years earlier, he had been dishonorably discharged from the US Army having held the rank of Sergeant. He had taken an Iraqi banker in Baghdad and tortured the man into opening his vault for the cash inside. The Army had quietly thrown him out. Seems he'd reinvented himself in Nevada using an innate talent for marketing. He had obtained private security contracts in Las Vegas and several other western cities, had put the money from the contracts into infrastructure and staff, and had grown his business quickly. Undoubtedly, Kirk would have been a huge client.
Casey said, "I could show up looking for a job."
"Case, you wouldn't even let me go out last night to meet Sid without you guys covering me. You really think we'll send you in there?" said Sarah. "There would be no way we could help you if things turned to shit. It's a neat idea, but way too dangerous."
Given the position he had taken the night before, Casey found it hard to argue with her. Anyway, she was right.
Back in the hotel suite, Sarah called Pat Kendler and told her that they were at the Magic and that Kirk had a rep as a violent man in town and that he beat up prostitutes. Kendler could use the information however she needed to. In turn, Kendler told her that Chen and his party were in the air from Taipei, destination Las Vegas. Also, that the Service was looking into the angle on the hundreds paper in the new light cast by the Chen connection. Each wished the other luck.
Once that call was out of the way, they ordered a room service lunch and sat in the suite's living room to talk. Chuck had swept the suite for wireless bugs the night before and it was clean.
"Ok, Chuck. We need to get an invitation to that cocktail party tomorrow night, so Carmichael is going to be a high roller tonight. The CIA has staked you with $100,000 of taxpayer money, and we have to figure out how to best use it. Are you familiar with casino games?" asked Sarah, holding a pack of cards.
"A little. I've never been to a casino, but I've played Reel Deal Casino Shuffle, the video game. I'm sort of decent at it. I've played blackjack, poker, craps, roulette, a bunch of the slots from the game. It's fun."
"Ok, we'll focus on blackjack, as that's one where, if you are smart and careful, you can actually win against the house. In any event, even if you lose, you can play for a while. You know the rules already from the video game, but let me refresh them for you. You play against the dealer, not the other players. Get 21, or closer to it than the dealer does, without going over. Going over is called busting. Face cards are 10, Aces are 11 or 1, all others are their number. You place the wager and then two cards are dealt to each of you, face up, and the dealer (forget the other players for now). One of the dealer's cards is face up, so you will know that one immediately, but the other one, the hole card is face down. If you get a face card and an ace, you win and get paid one and a half to one – a dollar fifty won for each dollar bet. If your two cards are less than 21, you have the choice of taking one or more additional cards. There are mathematical formulas for figuring out the odds of when to hit, to take more cards, or not. If you have a face card and a seven, for example, you need either an ace, a two, a three, or a four to get to or closer to 21 without busting. Anything more and you bust. Odds are against you that you will make it. You might, but probably not. So, you hold and don't take any additional cards. You may lose, you may not. You will see only one of the dealer's cards, the up card. Whether you hit or not depends not just on your hand, but on what the dealer is showing. If you win, you get paid one for one."
Sarah spent the next half hour going over the rules and strategy of the game with Chuck. Using Chuck's computer and the color printer provided by the hotel as part of the equipment in the suite, they printed out a multicolored chart of when to hit, when to stand and when to double (split his hand into two hands) for Chuck to memorize. His familiarity with the video game version helped. He was very smart and liked games, so the effort was sort of fun for him. Once she thought he had a good grasp of the game, they began to put it in practice and began to play a few hands to try out various combinations with Sarah as the dealer and Chuck as the player. Chuck marveled at her dexterity with the cards. She handled them like she'd been born with cards in her hands. He kept the chart near at hand as he practiced. After another hour, Sarah thought he was ready for the next level.
"Ok, now you should be able to play as well as any other regular player at the table. Sometimes you will win, but you will probably lose in the long run. I'm going to teach you something new, on top of the strategy. If you want to make a splash here as a whale, we're going to have to keep you playing for a while."
"You going to teach me to cheat?" He didn't exactly sound comfortable with the idea.
"No...well, maybe. It's not really cheating, it's card counting. But if the Casino, any casino here on the Strip, thinks you are doing it, they will throw you out. They'll keep your picture in their facial recognition files and ban you from the place if you try to come back, even with a fake name and a disguise. It's what I told you last night. If you are too good, they just don't let you play. Their house, their rules.
"So, in addition to everything you have to learn and pay attention to in order to play tonight, I'm going to add more. You have to keep track of all the cards dealt to all the players at the table, including the dealer, without seeming to do so. There are at least six decks in the shoe, so this isn't easy. This method helps you judge when there are likely to be more tens and aces left in the shoe. Since those cards are good for you, it's good to have an idea."
"Ok," he sounded a little hesitant. "That's a lot of cards to remember, though."
"It would be pretty well impossible for anyone without some crazy rainman memory. Here's how you do it. A two through a six is plus one, a seven through a nine is zero, and a ten through an ace is minus one. So, you will be hovering around zero the whole time. Keep the count up until they change or shuffle the shoe, then start again. The higher the count you have in your head, the more you bet on each hand to take advantage of the increased odds of pulling a face card or an ace. The house edge in blackjack is about 1%. If you are a good card counter, you can reverse it so that you have a 1% edge. It's a slow process to make a lot of money this way."
"Right," said Chuck. "For $100 bets, a 1% advantage would give me a dollar on average. If there's a deal every minute, I've made $60 in an hour."
"Exactly. This isn't a way to break the bank. It's a way to win slow and steady, assuming average luck. And Casinos have all kinds of ways to counter it here in Vegas. One way is to shuffle the decks in the shoe often. Whenever that happens, you have to start again. Time was, they would take a counter out back and beat the hell out of him. Not anymore though. I don't want to oversell this. But if you are going to play for a while with the government's hundred grand, you should know about it."
"Where'd you learn it?" asked Chuck.
"Umm, it's a long story," she said.
"Why don't you play? You'll be better at it than I am."
"Because Sid told us last night that the facial recognition files from the Paradise were probably forwarded to the Magic, Moron. Why do you think she asked that question?" said Casey from across the room where he was reading Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell. "Sarah's on those files from a prior mission or something."
"Ah. Yeah. I guess that makes sense," said Chuck. He was trying not to wonder both about how she got into those files in the first place and, more curiously, why that whole thing was so sensitive to her. Sid had asked about her dad, and he assumed that had something to do with it. He had once, months ago, stumbled into a hornet's nest when he had asked about her past. He was not about to make that mistake again.
"So, you're going to be up at bat, Chuck," said Sarah.
"Kay. Let's keep playing so I can practice. Hey, Case, come join us, please. I'll be able to practice counting better with three of us."
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After a leisurely dinner and a very entertaining magic show in the Hotel's Houdini Theater, Sarah, Casey and Chuck arrived at the casino floor after 10 o'clock. Chuck was wearing his dark Armani suit. Casey had a sport jacket over khakis. Sarah wore white capri pants, a short-sleeved blouse, a vest (to hide her gun), and a silver-sequined baseball cap, which she had bought at one of the hotel's boutiques before dinner. She had pulled the brim of the cap low, to hide her face from the overhead cameras.
They went to the cashier and bought $100,000 worth of chips, which was more bulky than Chuck had expected.
After wandering around the casino for a while to get a feel for the place they found their way to the high limit room. They found the section with blackjack tables and watched the play at a couple of tables for a while. Selecting a table essentially at random, Chuck sat. Sarah and Casey stood behind him.
"Good evening, how you doing tonight?" he asked the dealer, who was wearing a Santa hat.
"Just great, Sir. Good luck."
"Thanks. I'm going to need luck. I mostly play blackjack in a video game. Is this really different?"
"Couldn't say, Sir. When I'm not here, I don't play at all." At the moment, it was only Chuck and the dealer, the other seats were empty.
Chuck bet $5,000. The cards were dealt. The dealer's up card was a ten. Minus one. The dealer checked his hole card to see if it was an ace, as a natural (a two card 21) would be an immediate winner for him. Chuck's cards, both face up were a pair of fours. Plus one, plus one. So, he was at plus one total. He indicated that he wanted another card by scratching the table towards him with a fingernail. It was dealt face up and was an ace. Minus one, so total zero. He had a nineteen. So long as the dealer had an eight or less, Chuck won. The dealer flipped over his down card and had an eight. Of no value for counting. The dealer gave Chuck a $5,000 chip. Ok, thought Chuck. One hand completed. Zero count going into the next hand. Here we go.
Chuck played hand after hand. Chuck found he could see the card count at a glance at a pair, which saved him effort from adding individual cards, as he only had to think about adding the total of the pair he had seen. Other people joined the table, then left. The count in his head rose and fell. More hands were dealt. The dealer was replaced, as the one they had had went on break. Hours passed. More hands were dealt. The dealer was replaced again. Chuck lost money. Chuck won money. The shoe containing the cards was changed and Chuck began his count again. When the count in his head was higher, he increased his bets. Sometimes that didn't work out too well, and he lost more than he would have otherwise. When the count in his head was low he felt more confident drawing on a fifteen. Every once in a while, he pocketed a chip from his pile on the table. More hands were dealt. A strolling magician came by and entertained Sarah and Casey with card tricks. Well, he entertained Sarah anyway. Casey just wanted the guy to get lost.
As the evening progressed and Chuck became more comfortable with the game and the state of play, he began to regularly bet higher amounts. A $20,000 bet became more common for him. The cocktail waitress, also in a Santa cap, asked each of them for an order. Drinks were free for the gamblers and their audience. Casey ordered a beer. Sarah a seltzer. Chuck a ginger ale. More hands were dealt. Chuck had been playing for hours and he was tired. He had $50,000 in chips before him. The count in his head was at plus four.
He looked behind him. Casey and Sarah were still there, as he knew they would be. He said, "Last hand, guys. I'm toast."
They nodded.
He moved half of his remaining chips up to bet. The dealer dealt. Chuck had two tens. The dealer's up card was an eight. Chuck moved the tens away from each other and moved up the other half of his chips. Drawing a pair of tens had allowed him to double, and he was now playing two separate hands of blackjack against the dealer with $25,000 bets on each. The dealer dealt a card to Chuck's left hand card. It was an ace. Twenty-one. He gave Chuck a $25,000 stack of chips. (If you've doubled and then get a natural, it only pays one-to-one.) He dealt the card for the right hand ten. It was a three. Chuck scratched the table for a hit and the dealer gave him a card. It was an ace. Chuck now had fourteen. Chuck scratched again. The next card was a six. Twenty. Chuck held. The dealer flipped over his down card. A Jack. Ten for a total of eighteen. Faced with a sure loss, anyone but the dealer would have drawn another card to a probable bust, but casino dealers operated by strict rules and were forbidden from hitting on an eighteen. The dealer slid across another $25,000 in chips. Chuck thanked him and stood up with $100,000 in chips in his hands.
He realized that the scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning.
Arm in arm, Chuck and Sarah made their way away from the blackjack table where Chuck had been playing for hours. His back ached and he had a bit of a headache. Casey followed discretely behind, keeping watch over his partners. Chuck had done well, but might not have drawn the attention he wanted.
As they passed the high stakes roulette table, Chuck had a bit of an inspiration. He walked up to the table and said, "Good evening. Actually, I guess it's good morning. Whatever. Is this a lucky table?"
The croupier said, "Of course, Sir," with a fake smile.
"Superb. That's just what I was looking for. One hundred thousand on zero," said Chuck, putting his pile of chips down on one of the green spots. The croupier looked up with alarm. His eyes darted over to the pit boss, who nodded once. Casey and Sarah had tensed up, but they didn't try to stop him. The goal was to be a whale and this was sure to do it. They'd certainly have some explaining to do to Graham and Beckman, but in the meantime...
Several other people made bets. Although the crowd had thinned at this hour, Chuck's bet had drawn several curious observers. After enough time had passed the croupier waved his hand over the table, indicating that betting was done for that round. He spun the wheel counterclockwise and flipped the ball to roll around the rim of the bowl clockwise.
The ball rolled down and down. Sarah hugged Chuck's arm tightly and watched the ball. It hit the spinning wheel and bounced up, but its momentum was broken. It fell again and began to bounce against the wheel, until it came to a stop...in the zero slot.
Everyone at the table stood stock still. The bet paid thirty-five to one. Chuck had just won $3,500,000. Sarah and Casey, as much as anyone, gaped at the ball in the green zero slot, their minds locked in place with shock. Chuck came out of the stunned state faster than anyone there, including the croupier. He began to laugh, loudly and joyously.
"Wow, dude. You weren't kidding. This is a lucky table." That broke the man's frozen state. He collected the losing bets from the table and then began to stack piles of chips for Chuck and slide them towards him. Chuck, still laughing, took two $10,000 chips and handed them to the croupier. "Here, man. These are for you. God knows you deserve them. As for the rest of it, let it ride. Keep it on zero for the next spin."
"Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much. Umm, the bet you want..."
The pit boss came over and said to Chuck, "Congratulations, Sir. But I'm sorry. The bet you are looking to make is in excess of our limits. If you were to win..."
"Yup, it would be over $120,000,000. Yup. I got that. But isn't that why they call it gambling?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. I cannot permit..."
"It's ok," Chuck looked at his name tag, "Mr. Simpson. I'm not asking you to. I know you have rules and shit you have to adhere to. So please use that walkie-talkie thing over there and get the manager. You are the pit boss for this area. Get the manager for the entire floor to come over here, please. It can be his or her decision. I don't want to get you in trouble. Please, this is gonna be fun."
Simpson walked away and picked up the radio to get the floor boss.
Sarah looked at him with amazement, her mouth a little agape. "Chuck," she whispered, "what are you..."
He grinned at her and said, "I'm getting us invited to a cocktail party tomorrow night...or really tonight actually."
"Holy shit, Bartowski," growled Casey quietly.
"I know, right? I make $11 an hour fixing computers. Hold onto your hat, Casey," said Chuck, laughing. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
A small, neat looking, middle-aged woman came over to the table and said, "Good evening. I'm the floor manager here. Mrs. Shields. Congratulations, Mr..."
Chuck stuck out his hand and said, "Carmichael. Charles Carmichael. And these are my friends, Sarah Walker and John Casey. I'd like to give you back the money I won tonight, but it seems that it's against the rules. I was wondering if you could bend the rules for me just this once. You see, it's past my bed time and I'd like to hit the hay."
"You could always come back tomorrow night, Mr. Carmichael." Mrs. Shields had a pleasant smile and hard eyes.
"I know, Mrs. Shields, but life is uncertain. Strike while the iron is hot and all that. What say we give it a go?" By this time a large crowd had gathered around the table as word had spread throughout the floor. Dozens of people came by and, jostling each other, the bets began to pile up on the table. Including, Chuck noted with a little humor, many joining his bet on zero. "Seems like a shame to disappoint these nice folks." He gestured at the crowd.
The woman looked at the crowd for a moment and then looked back to Chuck. He met her gaze and held it. She studied him and said, "Alright, Mr. Carmichael. What say we give it a go?"
She took the ball from the croupier and gently moved him aside to take the man's place at the wheel. With a glance at the crowd, she waved her hand over the table. She spun the wheel and flipped the ball into the bowl. The only sound was the whiz of the ball over the polished wood. It didn't seem that anyone was breathing. The ball circled the bowl again and again. It lost momentum and dropped. Bounced. Dropped again. And stopped.
The woman looked up at Chuck and said, "Twenty-two." She placed the marker on the number twenty-two and stepped back to allow the croupier to clear the table of all but the winning bets. She had a tiny smile as she said, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carmichael."
Chuck was still laughing, "You too, Mrs. Shields. Have a good night...uh...morning." He gave her a cheerful wave.
Several members of the crowd offered commiseration at his loss, which he accepted with "Hey, thanks. No worries. Easy come, easy go."
Team B began to walk away from the table. Sarah said to him, "You just lost a three and a half million dollar bet, Chuck." She was still stunned by what she'd seen. By what Chuck had done.
"Not my money. That was house money, sweetie. It's not real to me until it's in my bank account. All night, I've just been convincing myself I was playing a video game that had no real world consequences. That's how I didn't go crazy."
"You could have taken back the $100,000 stake money, Moron. That was taxpayer money, after all," said Casey, but his heart wasn't in it.
"Oh, I did," said Chuck. He reached into his pocket and took out a fistful of chips. "$150,000. I was pocketing chips at blackjack as we went along. Every once in a while. I took out the stake money and enough to finance this mission, plus some. We're good."
Sarah stopped to look at him and the chips in his hand. Her Chuck was amazing. She grinned from ear to ear and said, "I love you so much."
Chuck just smiled happily, his nose crinkling.
Casey looked at the chips in Chuck's hand and said, with a small smile of his own, "I even like you a little bit right now."
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A/N3: Books are written on blackjack, the variations and the strategies. Furthermore, there are a bunch of more intricate variations on card counting than what I presented here. But this is Chuck fanfiction and you guys didn't sign up for a treatise. So, I simplified the explanations and the action. I tried to be wholly accurate, but necessarily incomplete.
A/N4: Tiny James Bond homage buried in here. Wonder if anyone gets it. I'm betting WvonB is going to.