Psionic Echo by Michael David

Author:Michael David [David, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roan & Weatherford

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

JASON BLAINE SLAMMED down a three thousand dollar shot of Stan’s 1937 Glenfiddich whiskey and glared at the blackjack dealer. Just like Blaine, the card handler was tall and muscular, had brown hair, and an overdose of Nazi insignia tattooed across his arms and shaved head.

Here, in the dark, remote Texas countryside, in a fortified retreat, far from the authorities, Jason and thirty freed felons were celebrating to the max. Tonight’s menu included drugs. More drugs. Lots of sex. Overpowering music. And gambling.

But, ten minutes ago, a dark wave of impending violence stopped the drug use, sent the hookers running, and tainted the ragged rhythm of rock and roll.

But it didn’t stop the gambling.

Even the most hardened criminal present was uneasy by Blaine’s growing aura of rage.

At the edge of Stan’s expansive gambling pit, music blared from a six-million-dollar Kipnis Outer Limits theatre system, adding to the sense of agitation until someone turned it off. The absence of sound pounded the room into submission as Blaine studied the dealer’s exposed card.

A seven of hearts.

Blaine’s losses were now over a hundred thousand, and the card handler smirked. “Hey, Bro, the odds favor the house. If I were you, I’d cut bait.”

This wasn’t a good time to double down, but Blaine dropped another thirty thousand beside his original bet. “Fuck you and your advice.”

The observers moved closer, marinating the stench of unwashed bodies with expensive liquor. Even the most drugged-out felon seemed to know Jason Blaine was fighting a raging cauldron of repressed savagery. Savagery ready to explode.

The onlookers realized the dealer was cheating. And from the guilty look on the card handler’s face, Blaine knew it, too.

Upon their afternoon arrival at the remote complex, Stan had staked all thirty-one felons with two hundred thousand, along with the promise that when Earth and the alternate worlds were attacked, another million in gold would be their final payment.

For now, Blaine looked at two issues—losing his money and being cheated.

But he couldn’t prove the latter. Not yet.

The dealer flipped Blaine’s hole card over, turned a king of spades from the deck, and placed it next to the seven of diamonds.

Blaine’s count stood at seventeen. And his gut told him it wasn’t good enough.

The dealer showed his cards—seven of hearts and ace of clubs. “Bro, you should have listened. House’s eighteen beats your seventeen.” The card handler raked Blaine’s sixty thousand to his side.

Twenty-nine pairs of eyes followed Blaine’s hand as he jerked a 9mm Glock from his waistband.

“I just figured it out. How you cheated me.”

The dealer put both hands up, and his mouth opened in surprise. “Brother, I wouldn’t cheat you. I was looking at life in Clements. Why would I fuck with the golden goose?”

Blaine moved the gun slightly, locking eyes with his target. “Unbutton your left sleeve and roll it up.”

“Look, I’ll give the money back.” The dealer’s eyes flitted from Blaine’s gun to the pile of cash on his side. “Take my two hundred K. And your losses. Just don’t pull the trigger.

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