reluctantly circled the tables and found a seat next to Jay, who had a plastic cup of whiskey in one hand and a half-smoked cigar in the other. Sitting around them were about a dozen crew, sharing beer, whiskey and cigarettes. They all looked to be in their twenties, some younger; slightly more men than women. Opposite him sat DC, Chickenhead and Big Dog. DC seemed intently focused on dealing cards. Damien was relieved to find it wasn’t backgammon because he had no clue how to play that. Not that he was particularly good at cards either.
DC dealt a new hand, throwing cards sharply at each person.
‘Rules?’ Damien said.
‘Go to sea, drink coffee, watch porn, deploy the marines,’ Big Dog said.
‘Ooh-rah!’ everyone cheered, then laughed. Even DC.
‘Help yourself,’ Chickenhead said, gesturing to several half-destroyed six-packs of pale ale and a cluster of Jack Daniel’s No. 7. ‘And cheap as fuck cigars.’ He drew on his cigar and almost choked.
Damien peered at his cards. It wasn’t a particularly great hand. He caught Jay looking over his shoulder, grinning.
‘There are some good islands in the Philippines,’ Jay whispered. ‘Some good beaches.’
‘Is that the one reason you’re not asking to be thrown out the hatch?’ Damien said. ‘Thought you were itching to get back.’
Jay carefully tapped ash from his cigar. It was his turn. He put in two cards and received two. He grinned at Damien again. ‘Pick an island. Paradise island. Party island. And another one that starts with P.’
Nasira overheard him. ‘Penis island?’
Everyone laughed, which seemed to annoy Jay.
‘Seriously. You interested?’ Jay said. ‘Not the penis one, the others.’
‘Are there coconuts?’ Damien asked.
Jay looked confused. ‘I guess so.’
‘I’m in,’ Damien said. ‘I always wanted to drink from a coconut.’
‘OK. Then I’m in too,’ Jay said, laying out his cards. ‘Straight flush, ladies.’
He collected the Australian coins and gathered them in a pile before him. He turned to Damien and mouthed the word ‘Motherfuck’.
‘What?’ Damien said.
Jay slapped him. ‘I’m unstoppable.’
‘Not last I saw,’ Chickenhead said.
‘Did you just … slap me?’ Damien said.
‘Beginner’s luck, my friend.’ Jay smiled. He quickly turned to Damien and said, ‘Sorry.’
Chickenhead laughed. ‘You might be a super soldier and all, but, mate, take away the bells and whistles and it’s not that hard.’ He winked at Jay. ‘My friend.’
Damien groaned. That would be enough to get Jay started. He’d take that as a challenge.
‘Is that a challenge?’ Jay drained his plastic cup. ‘Or would you rather keep your perfect score of … one ?’
Chickenhead shrugged and stood. ‘Let’s do this.’
Damien hadn’t noticed until now how tall he was.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Big Dog said, pulling hard on Chickenhead’s arm.
The table fell silent.
‘Not until we take bets first,’ DC said. ‘Big Dog, you’re the bank.’
Damien watched as the crew thrust money at Big Dog, some shouting for Chickenhead, others for Jay. Big Dog got nothing from Nasira, and Damien politely declined. And then it came to DC.
‘Who’s your lucky toy boy?’ Big Dog said.
DC stared into his cup of whiskey. He shook his head and handed over a twenty. ‘Jay.’
The crew started whistling and cheering. Jay was enjoying the applause.
‘I’m hurt.’ Chickenhead slapped DC’s shoulder. ‘I thought we had some chemistry.’
Damien’s sensitive hearing picked up on Nasira whispering into Jay’s ear. ‘There’s no way you’re ready. Save it for next time, you hear me?’
‘I can take him now,’ Jay said. ‘I know how to do it.’
‘You’re still too tense,’ she said. ‘I’ve been training Chickenhead for six months. In a fair fight he could trash any operative out there, trust me on this shit.’
Jay was grinning. ‘You think highly of yourself, don’t you?’
‘Are
DC dealt a new hand, throwing cards sharply at each person.
‘Rules?’ Damien said.
‘Go to sea, drink coffee, watch porn, deploy the marines,’ Big Dog said.
‘Ooh-rah!’ everyone cheered, then laughed. Even DC.
‘Help yourself,’ Chickenhead said, gesturing to several half-destroyed six-packs of pale ale and a cluster of Jack Daniel’s No. 7. ‘And cheap as fuck cigars.’ He drew on his cigar and almost choked.
Damien peered at his cards. It wasn’t a particularly great hand. He caught Jay looking over his shoulder, grinning.
‘There are some good islands in the Philippines,’ Jay whispered. ‘Some good beaches.’
‘Is that the one reason you’re not asking to be thrown out the hatch?’ Damien said. ‘Thought you were itching to get back.’
Jay carefully tapped ash from his cigar. It was his turn. He put in two cards and received two. He grinned at Damien again. ‘Pick an island. Paradise island. Party island. And another one that starts with P.’
Nasira overheard him. ‘Penis island?’
Everyone laughed, which seemed to annoy Jay.
‘Seriously. You interested?’ Jay said. ‘Not the penis one, the others.’
‘Are there coconuts?’ Damien asked.
Jay looked confused. ‘I guess so.’
‘I’m in,’ Damien said. ‘I always wanted to drink from a coconut.’
‘OK. Then I’m in too,’ Jay said, laying out his cards. ‘Straight flush, ladies.’
He collected the Australian coins and gathered them in a pile before him. He turned to Damien and mouthed the word ‘Motherfuck’.
‘What?’ Damien said.
Jay slapped him. ‘I’m unstoppable.’
‘Not last I saw,’ Chickenhead said.
‘Did you just … slap me?’ Damien said.
‘Beginner’s luck, my friend.’ Jay smiled. He quickly turned to Damien and said, ‘Sorry.’
Chickenhead laughed. ‘You might be a super soldier and all, but, mate, take away the bells and whistles and it’s not that hard.’ He winked at Jay. ‘My friend.’
Damien groaned. That would be enough to get Jay started. He’d take that as a challenge.
‘Is that a challenge?’ Jay drained his plastic cup. ‘Or would you rather keep your perfect score of … one ?’
Chickenhead shrugged and stood. ‘Let’s do this.’
Damien hadn’t noticed until now how tall he was.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Big Dog said, pulling hard on Chickenhead’s arm.
The table fell silent.
‘Not until we take bets first,’ DC said. ‘Big Dog, you’re the bank.’
Damien watched as the crew thrust money at Big Dog, some shouting for Chickenhead, others for Jay. Big Dog got nothing from Nasira, and Damien politely declined. And then it came to DC.
‘Who’s your lucky toy boy?’ Big Dog said.
DC stared into his cup of whiskey. He shook his head and handed over a twenty. ‘Jay.’
The crew started whistling and cheering. Jay was enjoying the applause.
‘I’m hurt.’ Chickenhead slapped DC’s shoulder. ‘I thought we had some chemistry.’
Damien’s sensitive hearing picked up on Nasira whispering into Jay’s ear. ‘There’s no way you’re ready. Save it for next time, you hear me?’
‘I can take him now,’ Jay said. ‘I know how to do it.’
‘You’re still too tense,’ she said. ‘I’ve been training Chickenhead for six months. In a fair fight he could trash any operative out there, trust me on this shit.’
Jay was grinning. ‘You think highly of yourself, don’t you?’
‘Are
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