Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) by Brett Battles, Robert Gregory Browne

go down that road.
    She crossed to the stove, turned on the hood light above it, then put away her cell phone and said, “You always need me. Why do you think I didn’t call you back?”
    She, Deuce, and Cooper had handled three successful acquisitions since the op at Slavne prison last year. The grab in Turkey was supposed to have been the fourth.
    He said, “You’re still angry about what happened in Istanbul.”
    “Shouldn’t I be?”
    “Okay, fine, I understand. I was angry, too. But until the government starts asking me for diplomatic advice, there’s not a whole hell of a lot I can do about it.”
    “Diplomatic advice? You think consorting with a known terrorist is diplomacy?”
    McElroy sighed. “We consorted with bin Laden until he became inconvenient. Same with Saddam Hussein. The world isn’t good guys versus bad guys, Alex. It’s all about who has what we need when we need it.”
    “I’m not sure I want to live in that world.”
    “Oops, too late.” He tossed the cloth into the sink and rolled down his pant leg. “I’m not here to debate politics, all right? If you’re looking to catch bad guys, I’ve got a major acquisition lined up and I can guarantee this one won’t turn out like the last. Fair enough?”
    With reluctance, she laid her gun on the counter.  
    “Maybe I’d rather sit this one out,” she said. “Sit them all out.”
    “And do what instead? Go back to rounding up fugitive junkies for a few hundred bucks a head?”
    “Keep in mind I know who I’m talking to when I say this, but it’s not all about the money.”
    McElroy forced a laugh. “Okay. Fine. We can pretend that’s true. What about information, then? That’s part of the reason we’re in business together, remember? Quid pro quo.”
    She gestured toward the front door. “Don’t bump into it on the way out.”
    She turned down the hall, heading toward the den and the patio beyond. When she heard McElroy shuffling behind her, she picked up speed.
    “Alex, wait.”
    “I’m done talking, Jason.”
    “Maybe so, but if you think I can get a cab out here at this time of morning, you’re out of your mind. I had a hard enough time getting one from the airport.”
    She stopped and turned in the doorway. “So what am I supposed to do, offer you a cup of coffee and a donut? You’ve got Stonewell International at your beck and call. Get somebody to pick you up.”
    She went out to the patio and stood at the rail. It was too late to sleep and too early to be alive. She tried to enjoy the view but could feel McElroy standing somewhere behind her, undoubtedly trying to figure out how to get her to change her mind.
    She was about to turn and tell him to get lost when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, checked the screen, and saw Deuce’s face staring up at her.
    Now what?
    She answered it. “Do you know what time it is?”
    “I figured you’d be awake. And you sound pretty alert.”
    “A lot more than I want to be.”
    “I’m calling to give you the heads-up. Our supreme commander chartered a helicopter and he’s at your beach house, looking for you. He just called me. There’s something major brewing and he’s pissed because you haven’t—”  
    “The heads-up is supposed to come before I get ambushed, genius.”
    “Oh, shit, you’re there? Did he tell you what the gig is?”
    “No,” Alex said. “And I don’t want to know.”
    A pause. “You’re still pissed about Istanbul, aren’t you?”
    “Why does everyone keep asking me that? It just happened a couple days ago. Give me time to get over it.”
    “Look, Alex, nobody wishes it could’ve turned out different more than I do, but I think you should listen to what the man has to say. He’s already promised to double our salaries for this gig, and between you and me, I could use the cash.”
    “What happened to all that money you saved?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Deuce…”
    He sighed. “Okay, I ran into an