Two hours later, after a number of hands in which the game proceeded steadily and players' fortunes went up and down (mostly down in one or two cases), the director announced an hour's break. Kelly nodded, looked with satisfaction at his substantially increased stack of chips and began to mentally review the game's progress - until he caught sight of Jennifer standing at the bar...showing her entire elegant length of left leg.

And, he was sure, a hint of her pubes. That had to be deliberate.

He was instantly rock-hard again, he couldn't help it. Hell with it, he decided rebelliously, the review could wait; the game was in its early stages as yet and there was still another night in which to play. He strode to the bar, took her arm firmly and growled, "Room - now!"

She didn't even try to argue, didn't want to. She just licked her lips and met his intense gaze with a look that pretty much screamed what she was thinking: Yeah, fuck me, you caveman! Fuck me hard like you said you would!

She just barely resisted the temptation simply to trip him and beat him to the floor...

Kelly and Jennifer's suite

Less than a minute later (they ran!)

Just like their first sexual encounter, he didn't even wait until she was lying on the bed before spreading her thighs and entering her (entering? More like barging in!). She clutched him to her so hard she actually drew blood...and neither of them much cared. He fucked her harder than he ever had before - and didn't stop even after he came, which she appreciated since, oddly, she hadn't - though she soon caught up, screaming as she abruptly climaxed so hard she nearly passed out.

It was several minutes before they managed to catch their breath. It was as well she'd somehow managed to get the dress off before they started fucking, as they were both covered in sweat. She was vividly reminded of her marathon 'workout' sessions with Ursula Greenwood, and she licked Kelly much as she used to lick Ursula; she loved the masculine reek and taste of him, just as she'd loved Ursula's feminine scent. He was no Earl Dumarest or James Bond, but so what? She loved him, and he loved her as deeply, and that was enough for her.

"Not that it isn't always good, because it is, but, ooh, that was the best seeing-to you've given me in ages," she enthused, her voice shaking as much as her body.

"I'm still hard," he observed, sounding surprised and pleased. He grinned lustily. "Have we time for another?"

The idea appealed to her so much that she didn't hesitate for a moment. "Fuck the time!"

"I'd sooner fuck you," he quipped.

"Do me!" she husked. She was a little sore from the pounding he'd given her, but she was in no mood to care. It'd been well worth it. It wasn't long before they both came again, as hard as they had earlier, and Jennifer did pass out briefly.

They took a quick shower together (with Jennifer giggling at Kelly's mischievous interference with her attempts to wash herself), and she chuckled, "Now I know why the French phrase for 'orgasm' is le petit mort. I never had the context for it...until now," she finished warmly, hugging him in gratitude. "Thank you, darling."

"You're very welcome, gorgeous. I love you, Jen."

Amazingly he was hard again; she was delighted by this and briefly debated offering him a quickie, happily taking his erection as a compliment to her sexiness, but...she heaved a mental sigh of regret as she recalled the ever-present Question Of Priorities which defined their very lives as SHADO operatives - especially his, as the Commander. Back to work, she mentally groused, there's always tomorrow.

If we pull this off, that is...

They dried each other off rapidly and dressed, ordering a quick snack of coffee and biscuits via room service. "Okay, how're we doing? Have you got everyone figured out yet?"

There were times he wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not, and this was one of them. But he dismissed that for once, as her question did require an answer and they were on a mission after all, not just having an idle bedroom chat. "Pretty much. For example, Alexandra's definitely faking a tell, clever of her - her left hand twitches slightly when things go wrong."

"But since she's putting it on..."

"...it means the opposite," he finished, nodding. "But it's too obvious - to me, at least - for her to be a serious threat. The other woman, Laplâce, I don't know her but she's a bit out of her depth. To be honest, I think she's here more for the game...which with this much money at stake isn't really a wise attitude."

"'No such thing as social gambling'," Jennifer quoted in agreement, "although this is supposed to be just for fun, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah...but we'll see whether that's still true at the end. Somehow," he smirked cynically, "I doubt it will be. To continue:

"Ranjit Patel's pretty good, but he strikes me as a little overconfident. He leans back slightly when his hand goes sour. Holt's passing himself off as reckless and flamboyant, as if he's just living out his fantasies. The truth is that he's keeping a sharp eye on things, and when push comes to shove he'll really go for it. Shimaka - well, inscrutable as you might expect, but he's got a very subtle tell: his eyes narrow just the tiniest bit when he's got a good hand."

"That'd be hard to see on Japanese features," she noted, impressed. "Wow, you are good."

"Thanks," he smiled, toasting her with his coffee (Peruvian blonde, he'd noticed approvingly, first beans of the season - whoever was in charge of the hotel's catering had exquisite taste, shades of Hank McCoy or Emma Frost). "The other players are relatively small fry; the better ones will use them to build their own stakes and push the lesser ones out.

"That's not hard to do in poker, especially Texas Hold 'Em," he explained, "in a no-limit game like this one you can bet as much as you can afford, and if your opponent can't match your current bet it doesn't matter what they've got - so it's possible to lose even with a Royal Flush, or win with a busted one."

"So if the bet's twenty million and you can't cover it - even if your opponent has a busted flush - you lose?" she ventured, and he nodded. "Ooh, that would hurt, having the best hand and still losing," she noted feelingly.

"Mmm. So to sum up, the only serious players here - apart from me -" he grinned, "are Holt, Shimaka and Patel. We can dismiss the others."

"With one very notable exception," she remarked pointedly. "I can't help but notice you haven't said a single word about a certain cute little blue-eyed blonde, and I don't mean Lucija." Ooh, she thought lustily, Lucija looks good in that LBD, and I bet she's no more wearing underwear than I am, the saucy little tart...I really must make it up to her, she deserves better - wait, wait, this isn't the time, you randy bitch, she chastised herself, back on mission!

She was more than a little worried at the length of time he took to respond. "Her, yeah. Jen...I have to admit I'm not quite sure what to make of her," he replied in a low, pensive voice. "She's very intelligent, clearly a quick thinker and she opened with a huge stake...so I'd have expected her to be more assertive, especially given her youth and the supreme self-confidence that usually implies.

"But I think she's holding back, though I can't see why. She's playing pretty cautiously, making modest bets, taking moderate losses in her stride. In a kid of eighteen, that's highly unusual," he frowned. "Plus she's amazingly hard to read, almost as if she's had training in emotional control."

"She strikes me as being very self-possessed," Jennifer observed helpfully.

"Mmm, I agree...which again is unusual for someone her age. I think I'll need to shake her up a bit." He frowned again. "But I can't think of a way at the moment."

"Ohh, but I can," Jennifer purred, to his surprise. "I can unsettle anyone." She sensually licked her lips and held his eyes...and suddenly it was a major effort not to pounce across the coffee table and manhandle her to the floor!

Which is precisely her point, you bloody idiot, so behave yourself, he chastised himself upon realising it. God, she's actually good at this covert operations stuff, a natural - my report will definitely reflect that, he resolved, managing to regain the cool, detached deportment expected of the Commander of SHADO. She's amazing - at this rate she might not end up in the STAND, I may need to rethink that notion...

He got a grip and took a deep breath. "Oh. Oh, y - yeah, I - I see, hmm, yeah. Damn," he frowned in mild irritation at himself, "I should've thought of that." He shook himself, regaining his composure, and finished his coffee and the remaining half of a water biscuit. "Okay, go for it," he decided firmly. He rose from his chair; Jennifer downed the last of her own coffee and joined him.

They returned to the casino - to raucous cheers and applause. Nicholas Holt gave Kelly a thumbs-up.

Jennifer was torn between embarrassment (inasmuch as such a shameless, uninhibited woman was capable of it) and appreciation; she briefly indulged the former by blushing, and curtseyed in acknowledgement of the latter (tricky in this dress!). Kelly himself took a bow, with an impish grin that reminded her of Sophie. God, what would her daughter have thought of her blatantly sexual public shenanigans? (Get real, she giggled to herself, she'd have given me a wolf-whistle and cheered me on!)

She caught Natalia's look of - it could only be called sheer lust. She found herself becoming wet in response, her nipples hardening.

Time to move in for the kill, she decided. She slinked over to the younger girl, debated how to proceed - then suddenly she knew what to do.

She grabbed Natalia's breast with one hand, her bottom with the other, and breathed sensually, "I want you." She was counting on the combination of beauty and maturity to overwhelm any resistance Natalia might have offered.

It worked.

Her flush of excitement obvious, Natalia craned to kiss her. The next move - adjourning - was obvious to both. Jennifer licked her lips. "Room 217?" she offered.

"Nyet. The Royal Suite," the younger girl countered. "I will lick finest Chianti off your breasts."

"Far be it from me to turn down an invitation like that," Jennifer smiled, and kissed her in return. She recognised Chianti as a classic red wine blend, very expensive; she'd indulged once at a wedding. She hadn't intended to get off with the groom - or the bride - but that was how it worked out. In fact she'd shared their wedding bed...

The Royal Suite

An hour later

"Ooh, I like Chianti," Jennifer murmured; both naked, each had poured it liberally onto the other, a rich, sweet and very strong blend which stained the skin of their breasts.

Natalia licked her again and kissed her. "I like you," she returned, then looked sober. "Even if you are part of SHADO."

Jennifer was a consummate actress (she'd learned it as part of her escort work) and so didn't tense at this. "Part of what?"

The girl sighed. "Do you think Father and I did no research? You are here to investigate him, not just to play poker. Commander has much else to do."

Still proffering innocence, Jennifer chuckled, "You make me sound like a secret agent."

"You are," Natalia said quietly. Out of her handbag she took what Jennifer apprehensively realised was a gun. "Admit truth, or die."

Jennifer held up both hands. "Hey, come on, there's no need for -"

"I will decide need," Natalia retorted. She relented and confessed, "I do not want to shoot you." She smiled briefly. "You are much fun, and very beautiful. But is time we dropped pretence. You are SHADO. I am not human. We both know this."

Realising the game was up, Jennifer sighed. "You're a Construct, aren't you? How old are you really?"

"Not eighteen years," Natalia admitted, "more eighteen months. I am advanced model. I was price of Father's aid. He wanted child. I am that child. Female captives' memories were used to create my mind until I could operate independently." She smiled briefly. "They did not expect this, though."

"So that's where you came from," Jennifer understood. "What was - is - Shostakovich doing?"

She shrugged. "I do not know. I do not care. He believes I am here for his reasons."

"You're not?"

Natalia shook her head. "I want to win. I...need to win. Winning will secure independence for me."

Amazing - she's developed her own agenda. "But...the Aliens - they created you. You're...theirs."

Natalia looked troubled. "I do not wish to be. They are...evil. Not human. They wish to conquer all. I cannot resist, but...I want to. With winnings I can. I can buy secrecy, protection."

"Which is why you're so determined to beat Kelly," Jennifer understood, "he's an obstacle."

"Da."

Jennifer surprised herself by feeling sympathy for Natalia. "We can help," she offered gently. "Kelly's a sympathetic sort. Just drop out and he'll protect you."

But Natalia shook her head. "Money will protect me better. I will win. I will beat him."

You wish. But she said quietly, "Natalia, I am - we are - not your enemy."

The younger woman sighed and put the gun away. "I know. Opponents, not enemies. There is difference."

There is a difference, Jennifer filled in. She frowned. "Natalia, why don't you say 'the' or 'a'?"

"Redundant syntactical particles," was the answer. "Russian does not have them. Is more efficient language." She smiled impishly. "But I know several more."

Carefully Jennifer informed her, "You, uh, realise I'll tell Kelly all this. I'll have to - he's my commanding officer."

Natalia shrugged. "Is understood. Is your duty. I do not hold duty against you." Her smile was grim. "Does not matter. He doubtless suspected truth - does not affect your mission. Or mine."

"She's right," Kelly decided later when Jennifer briefed him. "So she's a recent creation - I bet she was created during his absence nineteen months ago. So she'd be a month younger, grown at a twelve-to-one ratio. Good," he pronounced, "she'll have little to no practical experience." Then he frowned. "Which for the Aliens doesn't make sense; they're well aware of SHADO's capabilities, so why send someone inexperienced? No...I'm missing something."

"Maybe she's precocious," Jennifer suggested, "or an idiot savant when it comes to poker."

"Mmm, could be," he mused. "She must have some sort of edge. Even the Aliens know about money and what it means to us - so they know what's at stake. Still," he decided, "I'd better be careful."

"What about the other players?" she asked sensibly.

But Kelly smiled now. "In the bag. They hardly matter, Jen."

That was the way it went for several hours: Kelly was utterly certain that he'd analysed the other players perfectly - had Natalia not been there and/or not playing such an unorthodox strategy (whatever the hell it actually was!), he'd already be celebrating in his mind. Although her playing style was still puzzling him, Kelly would gain ground, occasionally lose a modest amount, but mostly matters were proceeding very much in his favour.

Which to an ingrained pessimist like him meant they were going to go pear-shaped any moment now. Nor was this pessimism unjustified, as it transpired on the next hand.

The Seven of Spades and the Seven of Hearts were dealt, to Kelly's carefully concealed delight, as he already had the Seven of Clubs. Betting went back and forth between players as they frequently did whenever a pair was showing. The Ace of Spades ("no help," the dealer noted) was dealt, followed by the Three of Diamonds ("no help"). Kelly upped his bets, as did Hirohito and Nicholas.

Natalia did not.

She's really starting to worry me...

And then, though this was not immediately apparent, things went to pot just as he'd expected.

But not in the way he'd expected.

The last card placed on the table was the Ten of Diamonds, leaving the players with a possible two-pair hand or perhaps a full house, maybe even four of a kind given the presence of the two Sevens dealt previously. Of course Kelly was the only player who knew that that last was in fact impossible, since he held the Seven of Clubs, and once again the dealer declared 'no help'. He was wrong in Kelly's case, since the latter had the Ten of Hearts and thus a full house, Sevens full of Tens.

But the moment that last card was dealt, Natalia abruptly became as transparent as the obsidian rock Kelly had once seen and bought in a tourist shop in Tenerife -

Oh, damn, I shouldn't have thought that, he ruefully mused; he knew all too well how capricious the human mind - and memory - could be and that he was no more immune to its vagaries than anyone else (dammit!), and just as he'd expected, whether he wanted to or not, he was now remembering another time, another place...

SHADO HQ, Commander's Office

17th June, 1986

Not that he'd been a tourist, far from it - as far as could be imagined.

"Well, Cadet," Ed Straker began, "I'm giving you an unusual field training assignment. In Tenerife, of all places," he added, sounding bemused - mainly because the location had been chosen at random by computer from a list of places meeting the assignment criteria and had ended up in a part of the world where no Alien activity of any kind had ever been recorded. Still, rules were rules - and besides, who truly knew how the Aliens' minds worked? Maybe one day they would select such a place precisely because SHADO wouldn't expect it.

Never underestimate your opponent. It was an error Straker had never made and, he hoped, never would. Nor would anyone under his command if it could be avoided. Hence the field training exercise to which Cadet McAllister would now be assigned.

"The object of the exercise is to locate, capture and retrieve an Alien agent. Not an unusual assignment in and of itself, as I'm sure you agree."

Kelly didn't quite shrug nonchalantly, but his body language gave the impression of it. "No, sir, it's not."

"No, the 'unusual' part is the location - a major tourist spot, which complicates the mission in one important respect: secrecy. It is essential that the agent be apprehended without attracting any civilian attention whatsoever. Failure to accomplish this will mean a failing grade."

Cadet McAllister gulped. "Commander, with all due respect...that's - quite an assignment."

That, he felt, was putting it mildly. Capture an Alien agent in the middle of a major tourist spot?! Without attracting attention?!

But, he reasoned, there is a logical reason behind everything Commander Straker does - everything. So the first thing I need to do is figure out that reason...which in fact is obvious, he realised, it's an advanced test of my fieldcraft skills.

Gonna be a helluva test of 'em, too...

"I understand, sir," he said, and Straker knew from the inflection that the cadet had comprehended his reasoning. "How do I distinguish the Alien agent from tourists and locals, though? He could hardly wear one of their spacesuits," he couldn't help quipping.

Straker smiled slightly. "The agent will be wearing red and silver, the same colours as Alien spacesuits; Dr. Jackson has a theory that those colours may bear some cultural significance to them, so such an agent might well wear such colours. They'll still be hard to spot, though. You will be given precisely twenty-four hours to complete the assignment, starting from the time you land in Tenerife. The agent, however, has also been given an assignment...the nature of which I am not at liberty to divulge to you."

"Because we wouldn't necessarily know such an agent's mission or agenda ahead of time," Kelly correctly surmised, and Straker nodded. Kelly stood. "On my way, sir."

He did in fact spot his target less than five hours after arriving in Costa Adeje, with a little help of sorts.

A passer-by (not wearing red and silver - not wearing anything, in fact, other than trainers and a white G-string!) captured his attention as might be expected of a human male a mere twenty years of age, even one being trained in SHADO. "People are still people, even in SHADO," Straker had remarked in 1983.

Very nice, Kelly couldn't help thinking lustily, admiring her lush, graceful figure and also noting a fascinating lack of tan lines (plus a saucy, knowing smile and a ring in her left nipple!), but then he sternly reminded himself he wasn't here to gawp like a tourist (or, for that matter, like a typical 20-year-old youth) and refocused on his task - and the moment his head turned away from the likely nudist and/or nude sunbather, his exceptional peripheral vision caught a flash of silver from someone walking in the opposite direction.

But he did not break his stride. Young though he was, he knew better; to do so would be to take the risk of alerting the target, if indeed he had spotted same. Not until he was almost forty metres further down the beachfront did he casually look again, and saw a young woman in a very brief bikini.

A red and silver bikini!

Gotcha! Kelly thought exultantly. Okay, so you've spotted her, but that's only part of the job, so don't lose your head. Mmm, I should head back around, there's a mobile stall I can use for cover - then I just need to get ahead of her and I can intercept her before she can lose herself in the crowd -

That was the plan, but it went wrong. Somehow she'd spotted him. She was making for a nearby crowd, not running but nevertheless at speed, heading into a tourist shop, and even if he could get close enough, he couldn't apprehend her in there without attracting attention.

The assignment had suddenly gotten harder.

I wonder who it is? They're chosen at random, but she's probably a junior operative, maybe even another cadet...

It was, however, possibly the very last woman he might have expected (except perhaps Colonel Lake; he just couldn't imagine her wearing anything as frivolous as a bikini). He made his way unobtrusively into the shop, just one more tourist killing time, looking for souvenirs. In fact he actually bought two, partly as cover and partly because he genuinely liked them: a piece of obsidian and a quartz crystal - at the time he was an avid minerals collector and he'd never even seen obsidian outside of a mineralogy book, so it was a nice find (but only to be expected, given that Tenerife was a volcanic island). He paid, glanced casually around -

- and the randomly-selected 'agent' turned out to be a mischievously grinning Cadet Katniss Dobson!

The moment their eyes met, hers full of merriment and her joie de vivre, she made briskly for the exit before he could stop her - or rather he could have, but not without attracting attention by leaving his purchases and thus breaking cover...as she knew full well. This established the pattern of events for the next two hours, cat and mouse; she too was on assignment, cast in the role of an Alien agent in possession of vital information who had been spotted and had to avoid capture by SHADO until pickup could be arranged.

Her assignment was simply to evade capture for two hours, starting from the moment she was detected by the 'SHADO operative' hunting her; she came so close - just 109 seconds short, in fact - that the supervising field operative gave her the benefit of the doubt and awarded her a high score. It was also clear she hadn't permitted her known affection for Kelly to negatively influence her performance, earning her further credit - she hadn't 'let' him capture her, he'd had to work for it. She had varied her evasion tactics imaginatively, too - at one point she joined a conga line heading into and then out of a restaurant, much to the mild exasperation of its clientèle - until Kelly managed to correctly anticipate her next action and forestall her.

He ended up 'pursuing' her to a beach and making love with her in the surf before 'capturing' her. There were not a few eyebrows raised when he brought in his 'captive', naked but for the tiniest bikini knickers (not the ones she'd been issued but an even briefer G-string, and the bra was similarly missing in action) - and both of them smelling strongly of seawater and sex...

Kelly also received a high grade, for successfully accomplishing his assignment whilst attracting no public attention whatsoever; eyewitnesses simply assumed they were nothing more than young lovers at play, precisely as he'd intended. The supervising operative and his colleagues, who'd kept both cadets under close observation throughout without their knowledge, concurred; they had seen no behaviour which could be construed any other way. Civilian attention attracted by Cadet McAllister: zero.

("Well, except for a couple of voyeurs who realised they were having sex and settled down to enjoy the, ah, floor show, sir, but I didn't think that counted as 'attracting public attention' since it's not exactly unusual behaviour for young lovers on holiday. Hell, I did that myself once in France..." the supervisor quipped. Straker made no comment beyond a raised eyebrow, but concurred with the supervisor's operational judgement.

People, after all, were still people.

Even - perhaps especially - in SHADO.)

For Kelly and Katniss, though, the best part of the whole affair wasn't the fact that they'd both successfully accomplished their assignments, pleasing though that was...it was more the fact that Tenerife Air Traffic Control suffered a power failure and all outbound flights were delayed for a day, resulting in an impromptu furlough for them - in the middle of a major tourist spot. Out of sheer frivolity at Katniss' impish suggestion they sent Denise a 'Wish You Were Here' postcard which arrived home two days after they did, sending all three into fits of hysterical laughter...

Enough, dammit, Kelly thought irritably, this isn't the time! What the hell...?

Natalia was giving nothing away. Her affect was utterly gone. He'd never seen anything remotely like it.

Opaque as obsidian, indeed.

Her betting also changed, becoming more aggressive - either she was supremely confident or pushing a bluff to the limit...but he couldn't tell which. Player after player folded or checked, one or two exchanging uneasy glances. Clearly they didn't know what to make of her, either.

Kelly knew then he'd badly underestimated this girl...this woman. It was now clear what she'd been doing: assessing the other players just as he had, holding back until she'd gotten the measure of them.

Which again was out of character for someone so young. She shouldn't have been capable of that at her age; he certainly wouldn't have been.

I'm missing something, he mused concernedly.

Betting was soon between Kelly, Natalia, Hirohito Shimaka and Nicholas Holt, all the others having folded (either they had nothing or they were cutting their losses, as was only sensible), and the pot was rapidly growing. It was now well into nine figures, in fact, the world record already shattered - and if Kelly lost this hand he'd be more or less cleaned out. But if he won, he'd be well in profit and in a good position to start squeezing out one or two other players, thus improving the odds.

He performed a rapid cost/benefit analysis and reached the conclusion that despite the risk it would be better to keep playing, keep betting. She could be bluffing; people her age, even girls, were often reckless and her father was rich enough for her not to care if she lost. She could easily buy back in.

But Kelly couldn't...

Too late now. I'm committed. Dammit.

Finally the dealer declared, "Showdown, mademoiselle et messieurs. Four players. Show me, s'il vous plaît."

Hirohito nodded and displayed his Ace of Hearts and Two of Clubs. With the communal hand showing the Ace and Seven of Spades, Three and Ten of Diamonds and the Seven of Hearts, that gave him two pairs, Aces and Sevens. Nicholas chuckled ruefully, nodded respectfully to Hirohito and showed the Ace of Diamonds and Nine of Hearts, giving him the same two pairs; Hirohito also gave a rueful chuckle. If the other two players had nothing, they knew there could be a two-player showdown, though that possibility was negated when Kelly showed his hand; both nodded to him in respect.

His Ten of Hearts and Seven of Clubs gave him a full house ("Sevens full of Tens," the dealer announced), and Natalia couldn't possibly have two Aces now (for a higher full house, Aces full of Sevens), nor could she have four Sevens, so normally Kelly might've grinned at this point.

Normally.

But Natalia was now a totally unknown factor. He still couldn't read her. What the hell did she have? There weren't that many possibilities for a winning hand; if she had the Seven of Diamonds and either of the remaining Tens, that would force a draw and a showdown, not an outright win -

In fact, he abruptly realised, there was only one winning possibility now -

With absolutely no facial expression at all, Natalia showed the Ten of Spades - and the Ten of Clubs.

There were gasps of delight and applause from the other players and the kibitzers.

Kelly was stunned rigid.

He barely heard the dealer pronounce, "Tens full of Sevens, a higher full house. The high hand. Mademoiselle Ivánovna wins. Well played, gospazha."

"Mesdames et messieurs, it is time for a short break," the director announced courteously. "Play will resume in one hour. Thank you."

The players rose from the table, most heading for the bar, some pausing to compliment Natalia; she accepted with a gracious smile that somehow made her look years older.

All Kelly could do was stare at Natalia's winning hand. He was utterly at a loss to understand what had just occurred.

And he too looked years older, though for a very different reason.

He barely registered Jennifer's gentle encouragement, squeezing his shoulders, to adjourn to the bar; the director had announced a scheduled break anyway. God knows he clearly needs one, she worried. They sat, and she ordered a Vesper for him, not very familiar with his alcoholic preferences as he seldom drank at all; it went down so fast he couldn't possibly have tasted it.

Just as well, since his taste in alcoholic beverages was in fact limited to ciders and the occasional peach schnapps shot such as Archer's…

The head waiter, too, bothered her, though she couldn't say why. Every time he spoke he got her back up, as Tony Blair had with that creepy smile. It was odd...but she dismissed it for the moment, as she had more important matters at hand - such as consoling her lover.

Finally Kelly drew a deep, shuddering breath, and she asked gently, "What happened?"

"I...I don't know...Jen, I thought I'd figured her out - then when the last card was dealt she just seemed to...to...I don't know, to shut down, or...something," he fumbled, sounding totally bewildered and lost for words - which was totally unlike him, articulate as he normally was. "I couldn't read a damn thing from her. But - she's just a kid, how the hell...?"

"Kelly, is it possible she was reading you?" she suggested anxiously.

"I - I can't see how, Jen, she couldn't possibly have enough experience at her age to read me like that, and what the hell would the you-know-whos know about poker anyway?"

"Well, she clearly did something," Jennifer pointed out pragmatically. "Anyway, first things first: what do we do now?"

"Do...?"

"Can you buy back in?" she inquired briskly, hoping to snap him out of it with her manner - as he'd done to her more than once. No-one could say she didn't learn from experience...

But he shook his head forlornly. "Not with the..." he mentally checked his chips, "thirty million I have left, no; the re-buy is fifty. Besides, I'd need a lot more for betting - especially now the bitch is nearly a billion up," he cursed. That's a change for the better, she thought hopefully; he was starting to get it together, recovering from the profound if understandable shock.

"Can't you get more?"

He gave her a pained look. "Jen, I had to borrow the half-billion I started with from the UN - on my sworn word that they'd get it back! If I tried to go cap in hand to the UN after this...hell, I - I'd be dismissed at the very least! Besides, what with all the procedures I'd need to follow, bureaucracy and so on, there isn't time, even if I could!"

"So - what are you saying?" Jennifer protested. "That we're screwed?! We've...we've failed?!"

"Pretty much - though this is definitely my failure, Jen," he admitted frankly, "you did everything right - and very well, too - and my report will emphasise that, so you needn't worry." He sighed deeply, utterly downcast. "But this is just about the worst mistake I've ever made as Commander. 20/20 hindsight notwithstanding, I should've folded, even with a full house; at least then I'd still be in the game. I should've realised Natalia wasn't bluffing. Hell, I should've worked out what she had," he finished self-deprecatingly. "No wonder she raised on the Ten of Diamonds. I should've seen it."

"Well, surely there's a way out?" she asked worriedly. "Isn't there always?"

"Not this time, Jen. I hate to be so pessimistic, but I...I can't see any solution..."

"I can," a voice softly interjected from behind Jennifer. The speaker leaned onto the bar between them and snagged a stray flute of champagne. She was a handsome woman who rather reminded Jennifer of her beloved friend Sylvia Margolis; she had the same air of somehow disreputable dignity, and a similar no-nonsense look about her. "Trixie Laplâce," she introduced herself. "I can help. May I suggest we talk in private?"

"Why?" Kelly managed.

Trixie sipped and smiled. "Given what we'll be talking about, it would be prudent, I assure you. But you can't afford not to hear me out."

He knew she wasn't bluffing; she'd been easy to read at the table, clearly inexpert, in it for the game rather than the money. But if there was any chance, any at all, to salvage this débâcle...

Hell with it, he decided abruptly. I've nothing to lose...not now.

He rose suddenly from his seat and declared, "This way."