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

old buddy yesterday and he talked me into sitting in on a game of Stud. And you know what a lousy poker player I am.”
    Alex couldn’t believe it. “Are you telling me you lost it all?”
    “I can probably make my rent this month if I don’t go crazy, but that’s about it. Which is why I’m begging you, kiddo. Hear the man out and seriously think about taking the gig. He won’t include me if you’re not there.”
    “Then he’s a fool,” she said.
    “Yeah, well, that goes without saying. But it is what it is. So do me a solid and listen to his pitch.”
    Alex wanted to reach through the phone and strangle Deuce. He was a great partner and one of her very best friends, but for a smart guy, he could be such a brain-dead moron sometimes.  
    “All right,” she said. “I’ll listen. But only because it’s you.”
    “Thanks, Alex.”
    “That doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to anything. If I don’t like the sound of it, you’ll have to scrape up next month’s rent some other way. Sell your body or something.”
    “Isn’t that what we already do?”
    He hung up without saying goodbye. She stuffed her phone back in her pocket and wheeled around, knowing McElroy was waiting in the doorway.
    “So is that how it works? First, you use Cooper to help recruit me, now you use Deuce to convince me to stay? What did you do, hire some card shark to cheat him out of his savings?”
    “You give me too much credit,” he said. He had his nose in his phone and was typing something.
    She scowled. “I should’ve shot you in the kitchen. Answer one question before we get into this.”
    He looked up. “All right, what?”
    “Why haven’t you asked me where I was tonight?”
    McElroy shrugged. “Is it any of my business?”
    “Is anything ever your business?” She thought about asking him outright if he’d planted the treasure box, but if he wasn’tinvolved, she’d just as soon keep it to herself.
    “Look, Alex, one of these days you’re going to have to learn to trust me a little. I really couldn’t care less where you were tonight. All I care is that you’re here now. So why don’t you do us both a favor and put the hostility in check for a minute? I’ve got two words I think you’ll want to hear.”
    “Which are?”
    “Reinhard Beck.”
    “The anarchist? I remember reading about him when I was kid.”
    “Anarchist, assassin, child killer, friend to genocidal tyrants—take your pick. He’s done it all and he’s still doing it.” He gestured. “I just sent his dossier to your phone. The usual encryption.”
    Alex dug out her phone again, saw the alert, and tapped in the password to retrieve the file. “I assume I’m supposed to be excited about this?”
    “You should be. This guy’s wanted in about fifteen different countries. And thanks to you, we’ve got the exclusive on him.”
    “Thanks to me? ”
    “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but my guy from DHS asked for you personally as a condition of the deal. You’re building quite a reputation for yourself. Even the snatch in Istanbul is considered a win since you already had the target in hand.”
    “Don’t get me started.”
    Her cell phone screen filled with a fuzzy black and white photo that looked as if it had been grabbed from an ancient surveillance video. Reinhard Beck stood in a bank with a sawed-off shotgun pointed at one of the tellers, his head turned toward the camera, giving her a full view of his face, as if to say fuck you . He was a tall, athletic looking man with light hair pulled back in a ponytail, and eyes as cold and dull as a Burmese python’s.
    “Is this the most recent photo you’ve got?”
    “It’s the only photo, except for a couple of school shots from when he was a child.”
    She nodded, then moved past McElroy and went inside, sinking into a chair as she flipped through the surprisingly thin file for such a major player. It was little more than a rundown of Beck’s most heinous crimes, and a series of