Alone Amongst Equals

The table sat in the centre of the room, bathed in a cone of soft light that faded to complete darkness less than a metre from the table's edge. The division between light and dark was so complete, the only sense of how big the room actually was, came as you entered and walked from the door to your seat.

When a deal of such magnitude was on the cards, Cole always used his influence to ensure the room was prepared this way, so as to avoid any distraction from the matter at hand. His influence had prevailed again, and the room, table, and lighting were ideal.

Cole sat silently in the far corner of the room opposite the door, and in total shadow, he waited like a predator setting a trap. The others would be arriving soon, and he wanted to assess them as they came in individually, and collectively. To get what he wanted in his world, he needed to understand his adversaries fully. Cole toyed with the unlit cigarette in his lips as he waited. Everybody attending had earned their reputations the hard way, and he held due respect for each of them. You could only lead in this business from the front; there was nowhere to hide.

The door opened, and Cole saw a silhouette in the framed rectangle of Light. Broad shoulders and tall, creating a diamond shape with the elbows as the hands were tucked in the pockets. The figure then disappeared into the darkness, before emerging surreally into the pool of tight around the table, and Cole's suspicions were confirmed, it was Larry Gordon. `East Coast’, as he was better known, was over 6ft and no stranger to the gym, he had a shock of blonde hair and blue eyes that always seemed to smile, even when his mouth didn't. Tailored tight trousers and a silk shirt that looked sprayed on. He casually took his seat and reclined with arms folded and head back, as if meditating. ‘Cool’, thought Cole, or at Least that's what you're representing, but Cole knew he was not actually feeling so relaxed, as Cole had been watching his eyes scanning the name cards, and giving tell-tale signs of concern or otherwise as he identified each one.

Cole mentally Logged ‘East Coast's’ reactions and what they told him. If he was going to get what he wanted here today, he needed to guide the proceedings carefully to his conclusion, not theirs. Knowing their strengths, weaknesses, and fears, was the key. Cole remained very still and went through the same process with each arrival. Eric ‘Lightening’ Pearson, loped in next, with the gangly gait of a teenager that couldn't get used to his changing body, and quick darting observations akin to watching a Meerkat checking for danger. Then came Gary ‘Crimson’ Tunney. ‘Crimson’, because it reflected the colour of the bruises he was known to leave on anyone that got in his way. His Large muscular body swallowed the chair as he sat down, just as his large Asian features flowed into a neck the same width as his head, which was attempting to engulf his shirt collar. Some of his muscle had run to fat over the last few years, and although nobody ever mentioned it to him, Cole could see that ‘Crimson’ knew things had changed, and that would give Cole an edge. Finally, Tony Collinary, a.k.a. ‘Sweet’, the complete antithesis of what he actually was. Small, wiry, and very pale, with thinning hair and a face that faintly resembled a butch Bette Middler, completed the table, leaving just one seat; Cole's.

After analysing them for a few minutes more - in particular; the way they reacted to Cole's empty chair, which spoke volumes about what they thought of him - it was time for him to make his presence known. With one deliberate smooth move, Cole flicked open his lighter and produced a dancing flame that he directed to the tip of his waiting cigarette. Conversation stopped, and all eyes turned towards the hovering flame, to see Cole's, confident and lived-in face appear in the soft orange glow. Light danced over his clean shaven olive skin and dark swept back hair, Just catching the edge of the silk bow tie, that completed his dress suit and fifties film star look he created for such meetings.

Cole killed the flame, leaving only the residue of his face on their retinas and the glowing end of his cigarette hovering like a strange life form, which their eyes hypnotically followed. "Welcome gentlemen," said Cole, in his deep resonant tone. Rising from his chair and walking slowly out of the shadows, he took his seat with assured fluid movements. His dark unyielding eyes sat in an open friendly face - that gave a hint to his Italian heritage - creating a disconcerting juxtaposition that left people seeking his company, with a desire to resolve the enigma.

"Now we are all here I suggest we make a start, do you agree?" All eyes were on Cole and they nodded their assent. "Very well", said Cole, carefully laying his cigarette in the ornate ashtray to his right, and exercising his fingers like a concert pianist...

"Let's play poker".

by

Iain Merchant