Yes I am back with another chapter, although the TDI group here seems to have waned a little. School's been killing me so it might be a few weeks before the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own TDI. I will not sell my soul for the rights to own TDI. However, you can sell your soul and TDI to me if you want. Also the authour does not encourage excessive gambling so FCC stay away!

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Casino Royale/ Airplane!

The lights of the casinos of Monte Carlo seemed to shine even more brighter on this particular night, as Duncan, Cody and Geoff, all wearing suave tuxes, entered one of the largest casinos in Monte Carlo. They decided to head for the bar first and sat down as the bartender dried a few glasses.

"Man, this casino is huge, how are we going to find him?" Cody asked scanning the area while sipping on his tropical fruit punch.

"First time here, eh?" the bartender asked, in a distinct prairie accent. What he got in return was two "yeahs" from Cody and Geoff, and an "I have some...history around here" from Duncan.

"Well, don't worry, Monte Carlo is a great place. I moved here from the Canadian prairies a few years back. Now look at me, eh?"

"Yeah, we're actually looking for someone," Cody remarked, careful not to leak too much information.

"Really, maybe I can help."

"No thanks, we're fine," replied Duncan quickly.

"Alright, but if you need any help, just talk to me, eh." The bartender then friendly slapped Geoff on the back a few times. He stopped when a waitress proceeded to come to the bar.

"Another martini for Monsieur Maclean," she spoke in a thick French accent as the trio's ears perked, "shaken, not stirred."

As the waitress carried the drinks over, Duncan, Geoff and Cody followed her, trying their best to look inconspicuous, as the bartender's gaze followed their path.

Chris Maclean, donning what appeared to be a white naval general's suit with golden orange velvet tasselled shoulder pads, was sipping his martini at the blackjack table as three strangers approached him.

"Mr. Chris Maclean, I presume," Duncan asked.

"You've presumed correctly," Maclean answered nonchalantly, "and who the hell are you?"

"I'm Geoff, and that's Duncan and Cody. We'll like three invitations to your resort."

Maclean calmly took another sip, "sorry, but they're for VIPs only."

"What if we gambled for it?"

Maclean's eyes lit up in interest and amusement, "I hope you know that I've never lost at any professional gambling competition before, much less against..."he eyed them carefully, "amateurs."

"Name your game," Geoff said, taking his response as a yes.

"Baccarat," responded Maclean laconically.

"Never heard of it," Geoff replied, a look of confusion growing on his face.

"I told you I should've been the one to challenge him," Duncan whispered to Cody. Cody, however was to busy concentrating at the roulette table next to them.

"Okay...how about Texas Hold'em?" Maclean suggested.

"See, I've heard of it, but I've never actually really know how it works. It's the one with the cards right?"

"How about you pick the game?" asked Maclean, whose patience was growing thin.

"Fine by me," Geoff looked around the nearby tables.

"Pick roulette, challenge him to roulette," Cody said quietly and quickly.

"What?" asked Duncan and Geoff.

"Just pick it!"

"Uh, roulette?" repeated Geoff, unsure.

Maclean smiled a sly, well, smile, "very well then. Whoever wins the most money in an hour wins." He got up and started to head for the roulette wheel. While walking, Cody explained his strategy, "Okay, I've been studying the wheel for a bit and I think I've come up with a way to predict which number will show up."

"You sure about this?" asked Duncan skeptically.

"Yep, all Geoff has to do is bet on the numbers I tell him to bet on."

"Alright, but if he loses, we're blaming you for the destruction of civilization," remarked Duncan calmly as Geoff took a seat by the roulette table, Maclean just seated across from him.

"Place your bets people!" shouted the counter man.

"Alright, here's what you do..."trailed off Cody.

One hour later, Maclean stared in disbelief as he realized that Geoff, although not by a lot, had beaten him.

"Well, it seems that you have," he struggled in admitting defeat, "bested me. Here are your invitations." He practically threw them at the three after he reached into the pocket inside his suit.

"Thanks sir, we look forward to seeing you soon," Duncan remarked with a hint of sarcasm on the sir as he pocketed his invite.

Chris Maclean sat back down on his chair as he watched the trio walk out the door. Suddenly the bartender with the prairie accent started to walk up to him.

"Did you get it?" Maclean asked without even turning around to look at him.

"Yep, it was pretty easy if you slap their backs like friends. He didn't suspect a thing," he pulled out a small badge used by IBE agents for clearance into top secret government facilities. Maclean took the badge from the bartender's hand and studied the name on the badge intently.

"Well, Mr. Geoff, I hope you and your cohorts enjoy your time at the spa. The service is to die for!"

The sky was bright blue speckled with puffy white clouds, a very good sign as Maclean's carrier jet flew towards the island resort, carrying Duncan, Cody, and Geoff, among other people. The jet was no ordinary airplane, it was spacious, comfy with excellent service, and the food didn't taste like plastic. Duncan was sitting next to Cody and tuning out his overly long speech on how his math skills was crucial in saving the world when he eyed a pretty blonde walking down the aisle towards an older man. Seeing as the seatbelt light wasn't on he decided to go investigate, leaving a preoccupied Cody talking to an empty seat. Upon closer inspection one could see an instant family resemblance between the two, although the man seemed to lack the girl's obvious blank and airy look.

"What's a pretty babe like you doing here?" Duncan started, knowing flattery was the best way to coax information out, especially from women.

"My dad's been invited to the resort that belongs to Chip."

"You mean Chris?"

"Yeah, and my dad never goes anywhere without me, so I'm coming along."

"I see," Duncan commented, making an internal note that she was obviously the daddy's little girl type, "and who is your father anyways?"

"He's the ambassador of England."

"Oh so your British?"

"No silly, I'm English."

"Right," Duncan said slowly, knowing that he probably wouldn't be caught in a game of wits with her any time soon. He suddenly noticed the Ambassador out of the corner of his eye, drinking a glass of lemonade.

"Your dad seems to like lemonade."

"Yep, he drinks like a galleon a day," the girl replies. Suddenly the pilot's voice rings from the speakers.

"Ladies and gentleman we are approaching Maclean Island, please take a seat and prepare for landing."

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And the plot thickens and actually starts to go somewhere! I have to admit, I'm not as happy as how this turned out as much as my previous chapters. Still, read and review and have a guess at who our backstabbing bartender and air-headed Ambassador's daughter are. Also please do not think that there is actually a mathematical way of winning at a roulette table. I not legally allowed to gamble yet but I do know that you have to make a prediction before they roll the ball, and thus there is no such fool-proof way to calculate it. This was just for the purpose of the plot.