‘ There isn’t really anything particularly outstanding about him. He is pretty young for someone with such sound judgment I guess. Otherwise, he’s a damn good poker player!’
- Interview with Henry Guerry, Manager at Diamonds Casino, Monte Carlo.
Looking at the pocket sevens in my hand my inner self smiles like a cat that stole milk. But I wouldn’t dare show it on my poker face. As my gaze leaves my cards they rest on the green table. The dealer looks professional as always. With practiced ease he gives the ‘please place your bets gentlemen’ look.
Taking the cue, I call the ante; twenty thousand dollars. Mr. Top Hat next to me checks with a stiff face. Miss Blonde has a flushed face. She looks around the table with a grin, giving off the ‘I’m drunk, I don’t know what I’m doing vibe’ and raises the bet with five hundred thousand dollars. It’s quite obvious that she is putting up an act. Her eyes are too clear for the drunken haze to fool me. I might also add that I saw the bartender pour in Lime and soda, hence my perfect detective-like deduction.
Next to Miss Blonde sits Sir Sinister. Excuse my naming sense but I name people on things that provoke my eyes. This Sir Sinister literally has a sinister look. The particular gentleman in question, if you can really call him that, has a predatory glint in his eye and a permanent sneer running across his lips. He looks at Miss Blonde with his disturbing gaze and smiles.
“ I can’t let this beautiful lady take all the ‘lime’ light! Raise to two million!” Sir Sinister declares.
Audible gulps can be heard from the spectators around the high rollers table. Glancing to my left I can already see some people making phone calls. Surprisingly Sir Sinister also noticed the act that Miss Blonde is putting up. His ‘declaration’ naturally hinting at her choice of drink.
As if reading my mind, Uncle Glasses suddenly declares: “Interesting! I shall follow you into this endeavour!”
Pushing the chips towards the middle of the table. he dramatically adjusts his glasses. Two more people need to bet.
A tough looking guy with a crew cut is up next. With a smoldering gaze, he looks at Sir Sinister and raises the pot further to ten million dollars. Quite a few eyebrows got raised at that action. This person is definitely not of the same flock as us gamblers. He looks more like a soldier or mercenary. The air surrounding him almost shimmers from repressed violence. With a scarred hand he pushes the extra chips on the now crowded table.
Last up is Mr. Timid, the polar opposite of Soldier. With a small stature, he extends his hand and pushes another ten million dollars worth of chips on the table. As he was the Big Blind it’s my turn again.
It’s always a good idea to play aggressively with a pair of sevens. Seven is, after all, a lucky number. But considering the size of the current pot I hesitate. Some of these fine gentlemen and lady might be hiding a sneaky Ace pair. After a short internal struggle, I come to a decision. Calling the ten million dollar bet I once again watch how everyone will react. Mr. Top Hat’s stiff face has started to excrete a visible sweat. With the amount of money on this table, even tycoons like himself would start to become nervous. A slight hesitation, almost mirroring how I reacted he comes to a decision as well. With a downcast look, he chooses survival and folds.
Miss Blonde continues and calls the ten million without any hesitation. I must admit that this woman sure knows how to act. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a top class actress or worse, secret service.
Something has been gnawing me since we started on this table. The only people exuding vibes of a gambler are Mr. Top Hat and myself. The rest are irregular. It’s as if they do not play poker a lot and keep on glancing at each other with ill-concealed aggression. Mr. Soldier is the only one that fits the image for the aggressive role. This whole charade is dubious.
Surprisingly the rest easily call the ten million. With the final call, the chips are gathered and the collective pot comes to rest at a glaring 70, 020, 000 dollars. This is an impressive figure, the most I’ve ever played for in my life. What also makes this quite impressive is that these bets are all pre-flop. No cards have been dealt yet.
With trained natural hands, the dealer deals the flop. This action is always amazing. A roller coaster of emotion can be experienced with just three cards resting on a table. Instead of looking at the revealed cards I sneak glimpses at my opponents. Disregarding Mr. Top Hat, Miss Blonde’s luscious lips straighten momentarily. Sir Sinister’s sneer does not change but his eyebrows scrunched up for a breath’s worth of time.
As I won’t be able to notice anything from the rest since the first second of the reveal has passed I glance at the auspicious cards. An Ace of Spades, King of Spades and a Seven of Diamonds become apparent. Doing my best to keep my emotions under control I notice that Mr. Soldier is trying very hard to keep his in check. Mr. Timid and Mr. Glasses’s expression had lost a bit of their energy.
As Mr. Timid was the Big Blind, he gets the first turn. As expected he checks, not increasing the pot. My turn arrives and I feel the attention of many on me. Their gazes almost feel physical as they analyze my every action. A laugh escapes my throat, surprising them all.
“ Ha ha! Sorry sorry, I just had a sudden thought. It feels as if “The Police” is here singing Every Move you make I’ll be watching you.”
A grin appears on Mr. Top Hat’s face as he says: “ Yes old sport! It feels exactly like that.”
As the only one reacting to my lame attempt at humour, my suspicion meter nears the red zone. Most fellow gamblers would at least acknowledge the attempt at lightening the emotions running rampant, but not these people. Only Mr. Top Hat, which was not on my suspect list reacted. I feel a nervous tension in my body. It’s as if a hand is slowly grasping around my heart.
I’ve seen the movie Casino Royale before. The characters in the movie give off the same feeling as these individuals. Now I’m no expert in sniffing out secret agents or mafia members, but it's pretty obvious that these people are not here for just the poker game. Something in the air is correlative to the man with the permanent sneer, sinister.
Clearing my throat unconsciously I place my hands on my chips. If I call here they will definitely know that I have something that might be strong. Mr. Soldier over there is guaranteed to at least have an Ace in his pocket, maybe even Ace pairs. A scary thought but one I should consider. It’s never a good idea to limp into the play, but considering the odds... Guess I’ll have to bet.
Pushing forward a considerable amount of chips the dealer eyes the amalgamation of chips with the eye of a hawk.
“ Van der Merwe has raised with Five million.” the dealer announces.
Attention shifts to Miss Blonde. She hesitates and looks into the crowd as if in search of something. Staring at her eyes I notice a change occur; a flash of recognition. Releasing the pearly whites she gracefully smiles, her drunken haze disappearing like light mist in the morning sun and says: “Well, it seems I will not continue this one, you have fun boys. Play nice.”
She folds.
Without batting an eyelid at the apparent act that was portrayed by the blonde bombshell, Sir Sinister acts with intent. A dramatic movement of his hand creates a theatrical display of chips that relocates from his personal space towards the middle of the table. I did not think that his sneer could become even more textbook, but he seems capable in the art.
“ I guess I will have to keep the wheel of this charade spinning, won’t I Mister Van der Merwe?” he arrogantly says, keeping an extended amount of eye contact with me.
The dealer announces: “ Ten million raise!”
The surrounding spectators could now be heard making quite a few phone calls, creating a clamor.
Once upon a time, I heard the saying; The eyes are windows to the soul. One can notice another person's intent by looking through his windows. Sir Sinister’s windows were a tinted yellow. A yellow that one could say portrays treachery. The treachery of a scorpion that wants to cross a river with the assistance of a frog.
“ Well my good sir, I was not the one that started this so-called endeavour, but I will be happy to oblige you.” I reply to his baiting.
With the banter finished, it’s now Mr. Glasses’s turn. With a glance from his eyes to Mr. Timid, I can almost see the understanding pass between them. This is quite interesting, there seem to be alliances between these people. They are definitely not here by their own devices or ability. The man removes his glasses and folds his cards. With a self-deprecating smile, he sits back and keeps his silence. No last words are uttered by Mr. Ex-Glasses.
At last, we arrive at the conundrum, Mr. Soldier. He places both his hands on the table and stands up. Fear grips my heart and tension suddenly surround the table as Sir Sinister scans him critically with one eye and a hand behind his back gripping something.
The standing man simply smiles and softly says:” All in.”
Like a deer caught in headlights, everyone stared at him. The room burst out with sound as people started shouting in the background. Heated discussions could be noted but not heard as the clamor was too loud. Snippets of heated conversation can be heard containing keywords like; all in, too many assets invested, Britain, crazy, states are out.
Hearing only these parts because of the shock caused by the all in, I gulped audibly. Not that it matters since all attention is focused on the man with the ramrod straight back. The dealer pauses, his nerves of steel seemingly experiencing a moment of weakness. In record time it’s reforged and the dealer moves. He starts the count of the all in. Taking a moment to accurately account for all the chips he once again moves to his original position.
The dealer clears his throat.
“Mr. Jones went all-in. The amount is 1, 673, 520, 000 dollars!” the dealer grandly exclaims.
A mind-boggling amount. Out of pure habit, I glance at the opposition. Something even more shocking happens in my eyes. The expected emotions that should’ve been apparent on everyone’s faces and body are not there. As if they are not fazed at all. Taking a look at everyone the expected shock is evidently non-existing. Glancing down my left shoulder, I look at Mr. Top Hat, the friendly tycoon.
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It’s as if he took everyone emotions for himself. Widened eyes, spit exiting his gaping mouth and a pale face that experienced a humongous mental shock greets my eyes. My theory seems to have been proven, Mr. Top Hat and I seem to be the only normal people here. The rest are of unknown origin. This poker game has moved from a No-Limit Texas Hold’em high stakes table to a dangerous gambit that might be the death of me.
The experience, the atmosphere, the palpable essence of danger. All of this gives me one amazing rush. I would never have thought that in this life, I would feel these current emotions. The danger, the treason, the intrigue. It’s amazing! I feel a tightness on my face and only now notice that I’ve been holding an irrepressible grin on my face. For once my poker face has been breached and my true emotion is out there for all to see. No one notices as their attention is focused on a man that does not appear strong at first, a timid man.
A not so timid voice sounds out: “ I shall also go all-in if you do not mind.”
YES! This is what I’ve always wanted. My heart is beating so fast creating an intoxicating adrenaline rush. I have to calm down, or else I will start making mistakes. Taking a few deep breaths while the noise in this grand room reaches new heights I imagine myself in the arms of a past lost love. The warm depressing thoughts help my senses return to a state of sobriety I calm down to an acceptable level. Her memories have always had that effect on me.
As I return to the world of intrigue I find myself being looked at by multiple people. I seem to have taken my time controlling my emotional high.
“Excuse me dealer, can you repeat the bet?” I calmly ask.
Understanding appears on his well-kept face. He politely answers.
“ The all-in from Mister Fabian amounts to 1, 860, 640, 000 dollars.”
I nod while exhaling. The pot has grown to a stupendous amount. It makes my total assets look inadequate. Normally I wouldn’t gamble with any amount that reaches five digits, but due to a certain circumstance, I need to fill a void in my heart. Thus the rush that I’ve been searching for has made its presence known, rewarding my psyche.
With the adrenaline fighting the hand that has gripped my heart, my hand extends to my chips. My hand trembles slightly as my adrenaline execute fear, breaking the chains that hold me back. Now my arm fully extends in a confident manner, circling all my chips and pushing them to the front.
I think that the rest did not expect my move as they glance at me in surprise. I can imagine they are thinking; ‘this person does not know that he is walking into the lion’s den’ a mere doe that has entered the fight between these predator-like entities.
“ Mister Van der Merwe goes all-in, the amount is 1, 163, 880, 000 dollars” the dealer once again declares.
An indescribable rush bursts through my veins as I look at all my assets being put into the bet. This is really insane. I wonder what would happen if I lost all of this. A sudden surge of fear once again strikes up in my heart creating doubt and uncertainty for a moment. Fortunately, the adrenaline still reigns supreme and I sit back to watch the inevitable showdown.
The attention moves to Sir Sinister as he does not even bat an eyelid and grandly calls the highest bet of 1, 860, 640, 000 dollars. He still has a few clumps of chips in front of him whereas the rest of us went all-in, truly a rich man, or a man with a large entity backing him.
As all the bets have been placed the dealer starts to count the total pot. As it will take a while, a few waiters appear to ask everyone if they would like to drink anything. Noting the apparent lack of moisture in my mouth I order a double Klipdrift Premium brandy with mix. I’ve never been a man that drinks on the rocks. Everyone else obviously orders whiskey, as they seem to further romanticise the connotation between poker and whiskey.
Once all the orders were placed, Mr. Top Hat, Miss Blonde, and Mr. Ex-Glasses excused themselves and moved towards the surrounding crowd as to not interfere. While keeping an eye on Sinister and Soldier, Mr. Timid strikes up a conversation with me.
“ Ah, Mister Van der Merwe? I don’t know if I’m pronouncing it correctly but it is quite the exotic surname you have there!”
One of my not so strong points is names. Most of the times when I ask people’s name I have to at least ask them two more times before it sets in my mind.
“ Thank you, excuse my rudeness but I’m terrible with names, would you mind repeating your name for me?”
I ask with an apologetic smile.
Mr. Timid smiles without any inkling of offense and then extends his hand.
“The name is Fabian chap. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent is not something that I am familiar with.”
Accepting his handshake I reply: “ I’m from South Africa, Fabian is a unique name for a British fellow like yourself.”
Fabian chuckles at this, mirth evident in his eyes.
“Don’t let the accent fool you chap, it’s just required for the job.”
Shivers run down my spine as Fabian’s previously friendly smile, change into something truly sinister. A familiar figure appears near us, Mr. Ex-Glasses! So I was right. These players are here with a hidden agenda. Carefully making sure that no shock is displayed on my face I play dumb: “ Excuse me?”
Fabian moves a little bit closer and speaks softly, almost in a whisper: “ Kid, I don’t know how you got into this tournament, but I can surely tell you something. The outcome of this, will decide whether you are responsible for countless lives or not.”
There it is!
The plot!
The agenda!
Casino Royale!
Time to bluff my way into an advantageous position, or at least a way for me not to die tonight.
A smile blooms on my face as if I cannot suppress it. Fabian seems to be astonished, his cryptic warning did not have the intended effect he wished for. With a sharp glance to Ex-Glasses, he moves even closer, a glint of an object hidden in his sleeve catches my eye.
My stomach churns, an internal struggle to keep everything that is inside of me, inside. As he moves even closer I prepare to take evasive maneuvers.
“Ahem, gentlemen!” a voice has never sounded so divine to my ears before.
“ If you would please take your seats, the last part of today’s session will shortly start.” the dealer states.
Saved by the dealer! Relief floods my senses but I refuse to let any of my inner turmoil show. Fabian just glances at me with no aggression apparent in his eyes. Ex-Glasses effortlessly mingles back into the crowd. It’s as if nothing happened. My eyes fall on my forgotten drink. As my hand grips the glass and moves towards my mouth, a sudden feeling of wrongness assails me. A quick look towards Fabian reveals him glancing in my direction, or more accurately at my glass.
I am really glad I watched Casino Royale. This drink is totally poisoned, no doubt about it. It most likely happened when he interacted with me. What a sly bastard. Putting the glass down, I make myself comfortable on the chair, gently tugging and readjusting my black tie. Looking at my watch the time reveals itself as 23:13; not very late depending on who you are.
Everyone settles in at the table. The dealer who patiently waited for us announces: “ The closing of the tournament will now start. Since all bets have been placed and are final it amounts to 6, 628, 700, 000 dollars. The last two cards will be revealed momentarily. Everyone please pick up your cards and place them on the table face up.”
Complying with his instructions, I reveal my hand. Pair of Sevens. Sir Sinister reveals his, it's a Queen of Spades and a Jack of Spades.
In front of Mr. Soldier his cards lay, the pair of Aces. I knew it! Then I look at Fabian’s cards. A pair of Kings.
This is quite intense.
Currently, I have the third strongest hand. There are 3, three of a kind’s here and one amazing runner-up for a Straight Royal Flush.
Mr. Soldier has the strongest hand at the moment with his Three of a kind Aces.
The dealer moves his hand and deals the turn, the second last card.
As all hold their breath in this moment of time, my emotions go on a high. The card is revealed. Jack of Hearts.
Everyone lets out their breaths as this does not have any real effect on the table. Sir Sinister only has a pair now. With the next card that will be dealt someone will be getting close to seven billion dollars.
With an abated breath I pray for deliverance. Please let it be a Seven! For the first time this night Sir Sinister has lost his ever-present sneer. It changed to the exact same expression as everyone else. Expectation and hope.
If the last card is anything but a Seven, then I lose. The card with the highest chance of revealing is definitely a Ten. No Ten is present on the table, all four cards are still in the stack.
The dealer makes his final movement for this tournament. With the movement of his arm, the hopes and expectations of four people congregate. He flicks his wrist and a card, the card, makes its presence known, bringing euphoria to a single person.
On the table, the card rests, it's my card. A Seven came out.
A SEVEN CAME OUT! Oh my goodness gracious great balls of fire!! I won! I won around six billion dollars! An insane amount for a 21-year-old. Riding the wave of joy and an inexplicable amount of excitement I don’t notice any of the other players' reactions. Since the number of chips is quite the trolley full, the dealer gives me a card. The card is matte black and heavier than it looks. Four shocking blue Sevens decorate the card.I’m pretty sure that if it were a dark room it would practically glow.
“Congratulations on your win Mr. Van der Merwe!” the dealer says and then continues: “ If you would please follow me to collect that which you are due.”
Sensing nothing wrong with his statement, I happily follow the dealer. In this room, there are three doorways. The one which everyone entered through, another one for the staff to use and then the one which we are walking towards.
The door would not look out of place in an Egyptian palace. Hieroglyphs made out of pure gold decorate the surface. Once we neared, the dealer gently placed his palm on the surface of the door. Thin blue lights, identical to the Sevens on my card, collected near his hand, scanning and confirming his identity. With no audible indication, the door swings inward, inviting us to enter.
The dealer confidently strides forward, leaving me behind. With hurried steps, I follow him into this mysterious abode. I enter into a grand hallway. Beautiful pieces of art adorn the sides of the hallway. Paintings on the level of Mona Lisa are present on many occasions as I hurry after the dealer.
After a few minutes of traversing what I can only call a grand gallery, another door appears before us. Once again the dealer repeats the process of placing his palm on the door. The door opens but this time it is audibly noticeable.
A relatively large room enters my eyesight. On the walls of the room, instead of more pieces of art, black doors adorn it. After a quick scanning of the room, I estimate the amount to be fourteen.
Feeling a bit weird about the whole situation I turn to look at the dealer. The dealer disappeared. The light in the room dims suddenly. What the actual **** is going on here. Feeling freaked out about the whole situation I call out: “ MR DEALER, where are you?!”
As expected of someone that just disappears, silence answers. A slight glow is noticeable from some of the doors. Shockingly enough the doors are showing card numbers. There is a K on one door, which most likely stands for King, or maybe Kyle. You never know. The next door displays a Q, the next a J, and few doors further a door that displays 8. The rest of the doors are still dark.
Inspecting the ‘King’ door I notice four K’s adorning the door. The ‘Queen’ and ‘Jack’ door is the same. Noticing a pattern I inspect the card given to me by the dealer. It looks the same as the doors except for the Sevens instead of the King, Queen, Jack, and Eight.
Walking past the Eight door, I come to a stop at a dark door. The light on my given card pulses. It seems that I will have to gamble. I wonder if Fabian knew this would happen if I won. His cryptic warning doesn’t really make sense, even now.
Well here goes nothing. Placing the card face down on the surface of the door, the same blue lights as the other doors burst forth. The lights rush towards my palm. Feeling no pain I admire the light. It pulses in an interesting rhythm, an almost familiar.
As realisation begins to take form my heart rate dramatically increases. At the exact same time the rhythmic pulse of the light also dramatically adjusts. It’s beating to the rhythm of my heart!
The light that hovered at my palm rushes across my whole body. Fear and shock run rampant in my mind. With a cry, the light engulfs all my senses and I feel myself disappearing from the world, literally. The last thought I had before losing consciousness was not about my life ending or the six billion that I didn’t see. No, it was that I won’t be able to see ‘her’ again.