Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) (3 page)

Bingo.

Another bodyguard seated in a chair near a curtained-off bed rose to his feet as the smaller one pointed at Alex. “Watch her.”

Alex stood there looking as submissive as possible as he pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed. Glancing at the bed curtain, she could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through her veins.
 

Her target was only feet away.

She said, “Is it all right to prep the patient while you call?”

She had raised her voice a bit, to make sure Cooper and Deuce could hear her. It was their signal to begin phase two of the operation—distract and snatch.

“Stay still,” the second man said and took a step toward her. He looked as though he wanted to smack her around a little just for the fun of it, but before he could turn that thought into action, the piercing scream of a fire alarm blasted through the hallway, courtesy of Cooper.

The two men exchanged startled looks, the first lowering his phone as the second one planted a hand on Alex’s chest, and shoved her into a nearby chair. “Don’t move.”

“But we can’t stay here,” she said, feigning concern. “We need to evacuate.”

“Don’t move or I’ll hurt you.”

Alex tried to look appropriately terrified and stayed put.

Right on schedule, the radio on the smaller man’s hip squawked. “Intruder on three. Northwest stairwell.”

Deuce
.

The two bodyguards exchanged another glance as the smaller one ripped the walkie free from his belt and hit the call button. “How many?”

“Just one. Big guy. He took out Terzi on two and he’s headed this way.”

The smaller one turned to the guard eyeballing Alex and shouted over the blare of the fire alarm. “Go. Now. Take Burakgazi and Yilmaz with you.”

“What about her?”

“She’s a woman. Leave her to me. Now go!”

The second one nodded and darted into the hall. Alex heard him shouting instructions to the other two men, as the one who’d stayed behind shot forward and grabbed her by the throat.

“You think we’re stupid? You think we weren’t expecting this?”

One can dream
, Alex thought, then jammed the edge of the chart into his forearm, knocking his hand free.

As he stumbled back, she jumped to her feet, grabbed him by the collar, then kneed him in the balls and shoved him into the nearest wall. He reached for the gun on his hip as he fell to the floor, but before he could raise it, Alex kicked the weapon from his hand and moved in. She swung a right hook into his jaw and snapped his head to the side, knocking him out cold.

With no time to waste, Alex wheeled around and grabbed the bed curtain, wondering why Solak hadn’t uttered a word of alarm during any of this. Could he be that far gone? But as soon as she pulled the curtain aside, she got her answer.

The bed was empty.

Shit
.

She checked the bathroom and found it empty, too, but wasn’t surprised. The twerp on the floor was right. They
weren’t
stupid. This room was a decoy. They had Solak stashed somewhere else, maybe even another floor, and
that
was where the other three bodyguards were headed.
 

Chastising herself for her own stupidity, Alex darted into the hallway. The three men had a head start, but couldn’t have gotten too far.
 

“Deuce, Cooper, do you read me?”
 

They both answered in the affirmative, then Cooper said, “I heard the tussle. You okay?”

“Fine, except they pulled a bait and switch. Solak’s not here. We’re gonna have to improvise.”

“So what else is new?” Deuce said. “Tell me what I’m looking for.”

“Three hostiles. Maybe more. They should be headed in Solak’s direction.”

“I’m on the fifth-floor landing. No sign of activity in here.”
 

“Nothing on the CCTV cams, either,” Cooper said, “but there’re a couple dead feeds on your floor, Alex. They must’ve cut ‘em. They’re probably still around there somewhere.”

“Roger,” she said. “I’m checking it out now.”

The fire alarm continued to ring as Alex rounded a corner to find the main corridor flooded with staff and patients in the middle of a full-scale evac. In hospitals this size, building-wide evacuations were unwieldy and impractical, so the alarms were often localized, affecting only the floors closest to the potential threat. Unfortunately, that didn’t help Alex. What they’d hoped would be a distraction was now an obstacle, and an already crowded hallway was twice as packed now, a sea of bodies in motion, all wanting to get the hell out of there.

She quickly scanned the crowd and saw nothing out of the ordinary—an orderly helping a child in a walker, a nurse pushing an elderly gray-haired woman in a wheelchair, several staffers rolling gurneys carrying patients still attached to IV drips. There was a sense of organized urgency as they all worked their way down the corridor.

Then Alex spotted him, the bodyguard who had leered at her, disappearing down an intersecting hallway at the far end. Picking up her pace, she threaded her way through the crowd, which was akin to traveling the I-695 beltway during rush hour back home.
 

But as she neared the nurse and the old woman in the wheelchair, something out of the ordinary registered at the periphery of her vision—a bulge in the nurse’s scrubs at the small of her back. Either she was hiding a tail or that bulge was a holster and gun.

Alex fell back slightly, nearly bumped into a moving gurney, and stared intently at the old woman in the wheelchair.

The gray hair was a wig.

Son of a bitch. Solak.

“Deuce,” she said quietly, hoping she could be heard over the sound of the alarm, “you’d better get your ass up to six. I’ve spotted the target.”

“I’m right behind you. And speaking of asses, did anybody mention those scrubs you’re wearing look a little small?”

Alex grimaced. “Thanks for reminding me. The target’s in the wheelchair about two meters ahead, dressed like an old woman, and the nurse pushing him is sporting an SOB holster and weapon.”

“Naughty nurses with guns. Be still my heart.”

“One of the hostiles is running point around the corner,” Alex continued, “but I don’t have a position on the others, so watch your back.”

The crowd had nearly stopped moving now, slowed by a bottleneck at the end of the hall.

“Roger that,” Deuce said. “We’ve got a pathology lab to our right, and if the BPs are more reliable than our intel, there should be a small freight elevator at the rear of the lab. Cooper, can you be ready to party in two?”

“I’ll be there,” Cooper told him.

“Okay, Alex, I’ve got your flank. Make your move and make it smooth.”

“Roger,” she said, then weaved past another gurney and a tight group of patients and positioned herself directly behind the nurse pushing the wheelchair, almost close enough to spoon. After a quick look around, she reached forward, slipped her hand under the nurse’s scrub top, and lo and behold, discovered the woman wasn’t hiding a tail.
 

Alex grabbed the grip of the weapon. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be carrying this in here.”

As the nurse started to react, Alex ripped the weapon free and jammed her heel into the back of the woman’s left knee. The joint buckled and the nurse went down with a grunt. Alex sidestepped the fall and yanked the wig off Solak’s head, shoving the nose of the pistol—a SIG Pro SP—into his upper back. “Get up.”

Someone nearby screamed and heads swiveled in their direction. Grabbing hold of Solak’s hospital gown, Alex yanked him to his feet, knowing that if the other bodyguards hadn’t already been closing in, they would be now. She shoved him toward a door about three meters to her right, marked
PATHOLOGY AND LABORATORY MEDICINE
.

She felt a sudden rush of movement behind her as a hand grabbed for her shoulder. But before it could fully connect, its owner grunted and hit the floor.

“Go! Go!” Deuce said, taking his place beside her.

They slammed through the door, pushing Solak in front of them, and worked their way through a maze of tables and microscopes and machines and racks of test tubes filled with blood. Alex scanned the lab and spotted a set of elevator doors down a short hallway at the rear of the room.

“At least something’s going right,” she murmured, nudging Solak in that direction.

Behind them, two more bodyguards burst into the lab—Alex’s friends from the hall outside Solak’s room. She heard the sharp cough of a suppressor and glass shattered nearby. Deuce whipped around and raised his own weapon, returning fire.

One of the bodyguards went down as the other—the grinner—dove for safety behind a lab table, and then came up firing on the other side.

Bullets whizzed past Alex’s head as she shoved Solak to the floor, then crouched and spun, squeezing off two quick rounds. The SIG wasn’t silenced and the shots echoed loudly. One went stray, but the other hit its mark, the slug ripping through the grinner’s shoulder in a burst of blood. He grunted in pain and slammed backward into a rack of test tubes, and they toppled over and shattered around him, splattering a dozen or more blood specimens across the linoleum.

Alex grabbed a handful of Solak’s gown and yanked him to his feet. “Hurry it up.”

As they shoved him toward the elevator again, Solak spoke for the first time. In English, no less. “You realize this will all come to nothing. You risk your life for what?”

“A chance to put you on a plane to nowhere,” Alex said.

“You’re American, yes? Private contractors?”

Neither Alex nor Deuce responded. Reaching the elevator, Alex pressed the down button, hoping this one was faster than the beast she rode in earlier.

“Why else would you be here?” Solak went on. “It is obvious you haven’t yet received word.”

Deuce frowned. “About what?”

“I have negotiated terms with your government just this morning. I am no longer a wanted man. Not by the United States, at least.”

Deuce snorted. “Nice try, dipshit. At least you get points for creativity.”

“You doubt me,” he said. “And that is understandable. But be warned that if you harm me, there will be reprisals.”

“Too bad you didn’t warn that busload of kids you killed in London,” Alex told him and looked at Deuce. “Are you buying this bullshit?”

“I’ve never been a big fan of fairytales,” Deuce said as the elevator doors slid open.

Alex shoved Solak a little harder than she needed to and he stumbled forward, hitting the elevator wall. “Oops. My bad.”

They stepped inside and the doors closed behind them. Once the elevator lurched into motion, Deuce said, “Cooper, we’ve got the package ready for delivery. Are you in position?”

There was a long pause.

“Shane?”

Still no answer.

Alex and Deuce exchanged a look, and as the elevator came to the ground floor, they braced themselves, weapons ready.

The doors slid open to reveal a loading dock, and the ambulance Cooper had been driving parked haphazardly in one of the bays. Cooper stood outside the vehicle, looking glum, surrounded by a phalanx of men in suits and dark glasses—none of them Turks—several of them pointing weapons directly at Alex and Deuce.

Americans. No doubt about it.

“Step out of the elevator and release your prisoner,” one of them said. “And put your weapons on the ground.”

Alex frowned. “What the hell is this?”

“Just do as they say,” Cooper told her. “The op’s been burned. They’re letting Solak go.”

Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “
What?
”

“Step out of the elevator,” the American repeated, “and put your weapons on the ground.”

Then Solak smiled and said, “Not a fairytale after all.”

Alex barely spoke a word on the plane ride home. She felt used and abused and didn’t like being taken advantage of.
 

A phone call from McElroy, the op coordinator at Stonewell International, had confirmed that Solak had indeed cut a deal with the US government and was no longer on their hit list. The reasons were classified, but McElroy guessed Solak was more valuable to the intelligence community as an ally than an enemy.
 

McElroy had apologized for the confusion, and explained that the DHS had somehow forgotten to inform Stonewell of the change until the operation was well under way.

“Screw them,” Alex said. “And screw you, too. Deuce and I almost got our heads shot off because of their incompetence.”

“It happens,” McElroy told her. “We’ll try to do better next time.”

“Next time? Don’t count on it. I’m done.”
 

“But you’ve only just started, Alex, and you’ve already proven to be a valuable asset to the organization.”

“Lucky me,” she said, and hung up on him.

Now, as the Stonewell jet carried them home, she thought about the slippery nature of politics and shifting allegiances and how she didn’t much like it. One minute you’re hunting a man down and the next you’re in bed with him. But what could possibly justify cozying up to a guy who had been responsible for the deaths of so many innocent people? Alex didn’t care what kind of cards he was holding, Solak should not be a free man. The fact that he
was
free royally pissed her off.