Free Foresight by EJ McBride Page A

although the apparently large amount of money he was winning from poker clearly wasn't being spent on self-grooming. He wasn't overweight as such, but he also didn't look in particularly good shape. His muzzle had been at the point of 'designer stubble' several days ago, and he'd clearly been happy to just let his facial hair grow without boundaries ever since. He wore a baseball cap, the name of one of the chip manufacturers emblazoned on the front, one of the many money-spinners a professional player like him could enjoy. He was famous for often wearing sunglasses, which at this point were resting on his baseball hat, pointing up toward the sky. Clara had been contemplating how tough it would be to get an accurate read if he was wearing shades, and was relieved to see that, for now at least, she wasn't going to have to bother. He wore blue designer jeans and a black sweater, a gaudy designer watch on his right wrist and elastic bands on the other, something Clara thought would be quite the ironic statement were it not for the fact that she didn't think he had the intellect to make one.
    She approached the table, stopping to speak to the steward who had been left in charge of ensuring everyone who was playing at the table was supposed to be there.  
    'Good evening Madam, may I see your invitation and ID please?'  
    Clara handed her two cards, one a small plastic card with a QR code printed on the top. The steward took her smartphone, scanned the QR code, and a photograph of Clara appeared on her screen alongside the name Mrs Jayne Benson . The second was a photographic ID card, doctored to include Clara's photograph and the correct name.  
    'Thank you Mrs Benson', said the steward, pulling a seat out at the table for Clara, who sat down and made herself comfortable. 'Would you like another drink?'
    'Yes, please', replied Clara as she surveyed the table, scoping out her competition for the evening. She began by looking across at Jepsom. She'd planned on waiting to read him until the game was in motion, but figured there was no harm in having a quick 'look'. She smiled across the table as they made eye contact.  
    'It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Jepsom', she said. 'I don't feel worthy to be playing at the same table as you, I do hope you don't take too much of my money this evening.'
    He smiled a wide smile, reaching across the table to shake her hand. 'The pleasure is all mine.'
      Clara continued to smile as she shook his hand, her eyes focused intently on his.  
    'I fucking hate playing these tourists' , he thought. Clara fought back the urge to say something witty, fully realising that her usual trick of saying something to scare him wouldn't go down well at all, instead just smiling back, reading what she could, learning anything that might help her.

Chapter 07
    Aware that she was going to be at the table for some time, Clara made herself comfortable, and began scrutinising her opponents, looking for some kind of weakness to exploit. It was an intimate game, Clara being one of only two other players, not including Jepsom. A previous conversation with Boal had lead her to believe that the Agency had paid a hefty price-tag to get her into the game, and the small number of players compared to the large crowd of spectators who had arrived to watch the game seemed to prove that. The table was long with plenty of space, ample room in fact to have squeezed another 5 or 6 people in should they have wanted to. Clara was sat almost directly opposite the dealer, Jepsom to her right, sat just beyond the corner of the table so as to be facing the dealer and all of the other players, and the remaining two players were spread out to her left. Both were men, and appeared to be polar opposites of one another. The first guy looked to be in his mid to late thirties, overweight and unhealthy in his appearance. He had light brown hair with a receding hairline, and wore round glasses that didn't complement the natural roundness of his