nafanielkhostov ([info]nafanielkhostov) wrote in [info]groznyj_grad,

((Poker Game Improv))

The night after the Greenhouse Explosion
***

Chemical Storage Shed number 12 had a sub-basement.  The whole warehouse had been built on top of a stable and the old cellar was still standing beneath it.  It wasn't a secret, simply a room not on any map.  The technicians or any other of the myriad of support personnel knew where it was.  For those who couldn't get into the officer's club, it was the local speakeasy.  Even some of the officers knew about it.  Mostly because from time to time... there was a poker game.

Marco the Cuban quarter master with his thick black beard presented the rules.  "The Americans play with chips.  We comrades, we play with their money" the quarter master grinned and stood up grabbing the metal briefcase and opening it upside down.  Stacks of currency fell onto the table.  "The finest counterfeit unfit for our spies" the Cuban said, each player bought their tokens exchanging real money for the American fakes.  Khostov had suggested the idea.  At first the Cuban didn't understand but after playing one against one with stacks of the fake bills sharing a bottle of vodka, he had seen the light.

There were four people in the room including Marco.  "No I don't think he'll be coming" Marco said answering a question from the man on his left.  He turned his head to the man on his right  "Non, non" Marco said.  Marco looked around the table.  "Everyone heard the... fireworks last night?" he said.  He dealt the cards talking while smoking his cigar.  Everyone in the room laughed.  The Cuban simply smiled a little.  "Khostov's sister was inside" the Cuban said.  Dead silence for a few minutes except for Marco who concentrated each hand.  "What what his name" the Cuban frowned either it was from his cards or frustration at the words on the tip of his tongue.  "I can never remember that man's name" he said.  He rubbed his beard and snapped his fingers.  "L'Albinos! He helped Khostov smuggle her out of France, three years back.  I wasn't on base at that time but Nafaniel told me about it" he said threw a hundred into the pile.  "Damn shame.  Ante in" he said. 

((Edit, the version uploaded was not the spell-corrected one.  This is.))
Tags: major krauss, nafaniel khostov

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

  • 2 comments

[info]parabellum_p08

January 14 2007, 18:31:05 UTC 5 years ago

Where his prized greenhouse once stood, full of award winning plants, rare species from all over the world, hybrids of his own design… and his beloved corpse flower, that would have been in bloom within days; smoldering ruins.

It was a clear message: the cosmonaut was angry about something.

He had wandered the empty halls of the East Wing, and never felt so alone in his life. He searched for Colonel Volgin, beyond everything else, an old friend to spill his woes to. Even Raidenovitch would have been an improvement over the empty halls and grief.

And there was the overwhelming fear that the Fury might find him alone, and reduce him to nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes, too.

Bad company was better than no company at all, Krauss convinced himself, pushing open the cellar door. He said nothing to the men congregated around the card table in the dingy, musky room, only surveyed the scene with red, puffy eyes from crying all evening, and dropped down into an empty chair.

The dim yellow light and the tobacco smoke was not doing much to improve his headache. Stretching out in his chair, he pulled a silver flask from the inside pocket of his white mink coat and drank deeply, wincing at the burn, but welcoming the numbing relief.

“Deal me in. I wager my fucking greenhouse.” The German slurred finally, obviously tanked.

[info]nafanielkhostov

February 5 2007, 13:53:57 UTC 5 years ago

P.S. ((Sorry for the delay, at first it was to let some other people to join in but I should have posted earlier. Sorry again.))

Some of the men laughed around the table. It was a nervous laugh but when the rosy cheeks, slurred speech and hip flask sunk in. The whole table burst out laughing from the tension when the officer came in.

Marco puffed long on his cigar smiling, "Ashes aren't worth much my friend" the cuban said laughing. The rest of the players chuckled around the table. Marco was still looking sideways at the German. No one knew how fucking crazy the german was. The alligators were his prized pets and who even knew what the hell he did at the complex. The only person who would know was Volgin and every one knew he was fucking crazy. Marco puffed on his cigar and slid over a stack of bills.

He shrugged and tried to act nonchalante. "Take it for the memories, neh?" he said. "So? You know Poker?" he said.
Create an Account
Forgot your login or password?
Facebook Twitter More login options
English • Español • Deutsch • Русский…