by Brian Cotton
Part of that frustration came from another hard, grueling day at the factory, too. Everything seemed to be going well, from the USR’s standpoint. All the guards who patrolled and watched every move of the factory workers didn’t seem to be too aggressive with him and his crew. No more than usual, anyway. Reed, at this moment, just wanted to go home and see his wife. Her face haunted his thoughts all the time now. All these long hours, and then the long poker games afterward, were starting to take its toll on their marriage.
Reed loved his wife, Belle. That name for her was perfect, too, at least in his mind. She didn’t know what her husband did during his nights out with the crew. She just learned to accept it. She also trusted him with all her heart. Belle knew that Reed loved her too much to do something stupid or to go behind her back in their marriage. She might not have known him all that well, though, as far as the stupidity was concerned. One could argue that what Reed was doing was stupid, no matter how careful he and his crew were, the USR would eventually catch on. The hope was always that they would be done with their mission before that day came. And, that they were long gone by then, off aiding the resistance in other ways.
“Take half of mine, you prick.” Reed said. He pushed off half of his chips in X’s direction, making sure that they toppled over with the force of the push to give the Latino more work to do.
“Hey,” Pinkie said. “You okay, Boss? It ain’t like you to cheat.”
“I’m…fine.” Reed mumbled. “Just missing my family.”
“I’d hate to make that pretty bride of yours a widow if you keep fucking around.” X said.
“What the hell’s your problem?” Reed demanded, this time, he was not acting.
“Just sayin’. Give us another round.”
The crew handed their cards in and Reed began to shuffle the deck. He didn’t care to force cards to the top this time. His mind was failing him. He tossed the cards around the table. When everyone had five cards, Reed flipped the top three. The resulting message didn’t make any sense. Hard times Agents.
“I think we better call it a night,” X said. “Bossman is not on his game today.”
“Everyone, I’m sorry, I’m just tired. We can play another round tomorrow after work, that okay?” Reed asked.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Before everyone stood, X slammed down two cards on the table. Reed looked at the cards, then back up at X. The former gangster had that same look on his face that threatened an ass whooping coming the leader’s way. Beyond the message that X laid down, without talking to Reed about it, X’s attitude started to cause some concern. Perhaps the old man was just having a bad day, but in the pit of his stomach, he felt it was something else. He seemed a bit more chippy than usual. It caused Reed to start thinking that maybe X was starting to challenge his authority. He looked back down at the two cards as everyone started to file out of the room.
Mission go.
