"Curtis explained to them that they had to completely revolutionize the concept of team play."

The big player received the signal. He walked across the crowded Vegas casino to the blackjack table in the middle of the pit. In his hand were a fistful, of purple and black chips that he'd gotten off a craps table, the first step in camouflaging his skills as a professional card counter now in the role of big player. There was an open seat in centerfield, next to the $10 bettor who'd just signalled him in. The true count was a healthy +3 and nearly three of the six decks remained in the shoe, two of which would be played before the shuttle

By that time they had won $6,000, taking advantage of double-downs and splits in accordance with the true count. The big player's action seemed to draw no heat. The floorman had introduced himself, routinely rated his play and offered his availability in case the "high roller" needed anything.

But just an hour later, their very professional and smooth operation hit a sudden bump. The big player had since been signalled to three different tables by three different card counters. In each situation the true count was +3 or better. However, they hit a spell of bad luck and lost $4,000. But this was just a runin with negative deviations, nothing that would hamper their unobstructed play at this high-end Vegas casino. So they thought. At his fifth table of the night, the big player placed two bets of $1,000. It was a$10 minimum table with a $5,000 maximum bet, and there were only two players at the table besides their counter. Conditions seemed ideal as the two players were betting $1,000 chips, and winning steadily, making the table a hot attraction that would naturally draw more high rollers to its felt. The big player sat between the high rollers. A few onlookers gathered behind them. Conditions couldn't be better. Playing the role of the carefree high roller, the big player nodded at the lady dealer and said to his fellow $1,000 bettors, "Looks like she's treating you guys alright!" The first one replied with a chuckle, "She can't make a hand all night." The second added, "Yeah, she's dumping out the entire rack!" The big player laughed easily and quipped, "Looks like I chose the right table!"

There were still three decks to go before the cut card. If no other players arrived at the table, they would see lots of hands, and if the count stayed plus maybe make a score. But before the dealer could get the first card out of the shoe, the pit boss suddenly appeared at the table. He looked the big player in the eye, and in a steely voice said to the dealer, "Shuffle up those cards!" The big player knew well enough that this was no time for playacting. He was not going to sit at the table and make believe nothing unusual had happened. He'd been made, and there was no doubt that surveillance upstairs had been filming him from every angle before the pit boss lowered the boom. They'd have close-ups of his face. This was a major team disaster. They had been playing together since before the MIT Blackjack Team got all that publicity, but had never been accosted in this fashion. Now it was time to invoke damage control, which simply meant getting out of the casino and preventing their identities from being exposed. No one on the team had ever been backroomed