Author's note: I do not own Pokemon or related trademarks.
Just as a headsup, I'm going to put the Saffron Justice series on hold after this story so I can start another Pokemon series. Don't worry, it'll be for a short break, and then I'll come right back to this one. When I'm not doing all my Evangelion fanfics, of course.
Also, apologies for this chapter not really being that good. I wanted to get another chapter done but I've had other stories to write, plus life has been very draining for me on a personal level. Bear with me and I'll make sure the rest of the story is back up to my normal standards.
Language warning:
"Frank, look at the damned video!" snapped Stuart. "She's RIGHT THERE!"
"It's not her, goddamnit!"
"Come on, you have to realize that she's a suspect! She-"
"Goddamnit, Stuart, she has nothing to do with this!"
Frank stormed out of the building. Stuart started to follow him but Hopfmar put a hand on his shoulder. "Give him time to cool down. And don't be so quick to say that Jessie is a suspect when you have a building full of them."
Frank watched as the dealer set up another hand. Giovanni had been doing well, with the detective not really noticing changes yet in his own stack.
The three other players were having luck in various degrees, good and bad.
The man to his left could not have picked a worse Hawaiian shirt to wear, and Frank hated his fauxhawk which stuck out like a sore thumb. Hayden was the man's last name (the detective never learned the first), and he played his game with little or no respect for the other players involved.
The man a couple of spaces to Frank's right, Ryan Blood, seemed obsessed with busting the detective and only the detective. His black hair was in a loose ponytail down his back, and his dark goatee seemed out of place on his pale face (Frank suspected he was anemic, but that was a thought born more of dislike than anything else). His oriental-inspired outfit seemed to fit in the general confines of the casino but looked bad here. He seemed to be on good terms with Hayden at least so Frank figured that getting one of them out would rattle the other.
Frank knew nothing about Hayden or Blood otherwise. But Seth Drakin, on the other hand….
Drakin was, on the surface, the owner of a chain of movie theaters, a man with a penchant for horror movies (preferably good ones), but he was known to be a major Mafia boss the likes of which the Kanto region had never seen. He made Giovanni look like a kid stealing candy: the stories were well told of how he would kidnap loved ones and torture them in front of whoever he was at odds with, how he would organize assaults on rivals just because he could, how he would lock people in rooms and force them to watch the Twilight movies until they almost killed themselves to try and end their suffering (then again, not many people in the regions really liked those movies anyway). As far as Frank knew, he had never crossed paths with Drakin, and he had no intention of doing so without help at any time after this.
Incredibly, the three soon were finished in very anticlimactic fashion. It was Drakin who knocked Hayden out with a pair of kings to top a pair of queens, and then a few hands later, a tripling of sevens allowed Giovanni to fell Blood. Six hands later, Caldwell finally got Drakin out, his heart flush topping Drakin's spade one by a king over a jack.
So as Frank sat there, about to lock horns one-on-one with the leader of Team Rocket, he had to try hard to keep his head from spinning out of control.
"Well, how much longer do you wish to continue, Mr. O'Leary?" Giovanni queried.
The detective leaned back. "I've got all the time in the world tonight."
"As do I," was the smiled reply.
Half an hour later, it was virtually a dead heat. Neither of them were able to get more than a couple of wins at a time, and where neither of them really bet anything large, the chips seemed to be glued to the table.
It was Giovanni who decided to end the stalemate. "Mr. O'Leary, it bores me to no end to be continuing this pointless back-and-forth charade. Might I propose that we end this?"
Frank leaned back in his chair. "What are your terms?"
"One hand. We both go all-in. Winner takes all."
"Agreed."
Giovanni nodded to the dealer, and Frank watched as the cards hit the table. Barely lifting the corners of his cards, he glanced down. Seven and jack of hearts. He glanced at his foe and could see a quiet tension. The flop yielded fives in both spades and hearts along with a three of hearts.
Too easy to make a flush. Maybe I can use the jack as a high card.
Then the dealer flipped the eight of hearts.
What am I, fucking Rain Man?!
As soon as the river card, the five of diamonds, was dealt, Giovanni showed his hand. "Three of a kind, all fives. You?"
Silently, the detective turned over his two hearts.
"A flush," the Rocket boss remarked. "Impressive." Before Frank could speak, he continued, "If you can find time on your schedule- you know, you never did tell me what your employment was, if any, Mr. O'Leary."
"Freelance supplier," was the passive reply. He couldn't think of a more concealed way to say "gunrunner" than that, but it felt awkward on the tongue, at least to him, anyway.
"Supplier? In what, exactly?"
The detective lightly shrugged. "Whatever needs to be supplied."
"Ah, I see you play your life like you play your cards. If you can find the time, on Wednesdays and Fridays, I host a private Texas Hold 'Em game at my estate. Consider this your invite, Mr. O'Leary, Supplier Of Things That Need To Be Supplied."
Frank smirked. "So, do I get a map?"
Giovanni did not return the smile. "You will return to the casino, where one of my people will take you to the site. Once there, you will be guided to where I am holding court. Understood?"
"Ah, playing it safe, I see."
"Well, you can't be too careful in my line of business." He turned to the woman next to him. "Katja, will you escort Mr. O'Leary out until next Wednesday?"