Frank Thorpe is set to board a plane at LAX for a much-needed vacation when he sees an obviously poor young boy knocked out of the way and senseless by an arrogant businessman rushing to a waiting Porsche. Frank really needs some R & R. He’s just been fired—over a fatal screw up—from the covert operations “shop” he’s worked at for years. But Douglas Meachum—a hard-charging art dealer—needs to be made to feel something more than nothing extreme, just a little wake-up call. Given Frank’s background and his expertise in good guy/bad guy tactics, it’s easy for him to set up a scam involving some embarrassing revelations about a faked Mayan sculpture that Meachum sells to one of his clients. But the client isn’t someone who takes kindly to mistakes. She’s a ruthless social-climbing psychopath who, with her surfer-dude husband (the Thomas Alva Edison of designer pharmaceuticals), runs a huge drug operation. And she’s got an invincible thug duo—Vlad and Arturo—to carry out her notions of payback, which make Frank’s wake-up scheme seem positively genteel. What started out as a good (if slightly underhanded) deed quickly veers out of control. How Frank handles the chaos—and what he himself hears in the wake-up call—is the fuel that drives this full-throttle, terrifically entertaining novel.