Young Guns Box Set - Books 1-4: A Tanner Series (Young Gun Box Sets)

by Remington Kane

  “How did you get here?” Spenser asked.

  “Oh, a friend dropped me nearby and I walked the last three miles. I didn’t want anyone else to know where this place was, you know?”

  Spenser relaxed as he let the crossbow hang loose and point toward the sand. Seeing that, Ryker smiled. Farnsworth might have trained the boy well, but he was still young, and the young trusted easily.

  “I’m Spenser Hawke, and you said your name is Vince?”

  “I’m Vince Ryker. Has Farnsworth ever mentioned me?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not surprised. I was a disappointment to him.”

  “Why? Because you failed to finish the hundred miles in under twenty-four hours?”

  Ryker’s grin turned into a smirk.

  “About that, I lied. I finished the race with minutes to spare. No, Farnsworth kicked me out because of something else.”

  Spenser squinted at Ryker. “You failed the other test?”

  “What other test? There’s only the one test.”

  Spenser shook his head.

  “I was tested twice. The second one… I guess you could call it a mind game. Farnsworth wanted to see if I would kill an innocent. I didn’t, even though it meant I would fail the test.”

  Ryker sighed, as disgust showed on his face.

  “Let me guess, you didn’t risk killing an innocent and failed the test, but by failing, you actually passed. Am I right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s bullshit, kid. In the real world you would have just lost, and the target would have gotten away. A Tanner never fails, never!”

  Spenser tensed up, then nodded at Ryker as if he were agreeing with him, at the same time, he was raising the crossbow.

  Ryker pulled a gun out from behind his back. He fired at Spenser as Spenser twisted sideways while loosing an arrow. Given how close he was to Ryker, the arrow only traveled three feet and had not been aimed. It struck home however, entering the back of Ryker’s hand and pushing the gun from it. Ryker’s hurried shot had missed Spenser, although Spenser had felt the air near his neck compress as the bullet whizzed past him.

  Ryker cursed at the arrow skewering his right hand and bent down to retrieve his weapon with his left. His fingers had just brushed the weapon’s grip when he heard the sound of an arrow being notched in the bow. Ryker abandoned the gun, dove, and went into a roll.

  An arrow flew past the spot where his chest had been and struck the sand. Meanwhile, the shaft in Ryker’s hand ripped free in a spray of blood after slamming against the ground.

  He dodged another arrow as he sprinted in a random pattern for the safety of the sand dunes. Ryker was six feet from cover when the gunshot rang out and his right side felt as if someone had set it on fire. He’d been shot with his own gun.

  Ryker ran for all he was worth and reached the dirt bike he had pushed in from the road upon his arrival. A pinging sound was heard as Spenser fired on him. The round hit the bike’s handlebar as Ryker sped off. The impact of the bullet hitting the handlebar sent a vibration of pain through Ryker’s wounded hand.

  Once he was certain he was out of range of the gun, Ryker stopped the bike on a ridge and got off. His hand was a mess and had a damn hole in it. Even worse, was the wound to his side.

  Although the bullet had passed between two ribs, the pain was excruciating. His insides ached as well, from the shock waves caused by the bullet’s path through his body.

  After wrapping his hand with the bandana he wore around his neck, Ryker looked back the way he’d come. He could see Spenser’s form in the distance. The boy was headed his way on foot but was still too far out to make an accurate shot.

  Ryker pointed at him and bellowed as loud as he could.

  “I’m Tanner Six! Not you.”

  Spenser stopped running and stared in his direction. Ryker, with blood dripping from his hand and side, climbed onto the dirt bike and rode away.

  I’m Tanner Six, he told himself, and someday, he and Spenser Hawke would meet again.

  91

  These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

  JULY 2001, ROBBINSTOWN, CALIFORNIA

  Spenser watched in awed fascination as Romeo slammed a fist into Cody’s stomach. That Romeo was enraged was obvious, and with good reason. Cody had just slain Romeo’s friend.

  The two boys, men really, since Cody was twenty and Romeo twenty-one, were both armed with swords. After a brief scuffle, Cody freed his sword from its scabbard and thrust the blade at Romeo. Romeo managed to avoid the weapon and brought out his own sword.

  As the two boys fought, a divided crowd cheered and jeered each of them, while Romeo’s cousin vainly attempted to stop the fight.

  Spenser only watched, although he was aware that one of his protégés would perish at the other’s hand.

  The fight was a vicious one, and at one point, both boys found themselves disarmed and battling with their fists. Cody regained his sword first and went in pursuit of Romeo, who was searching for his lost weapon.

  Unable to find it, Romeo had to duck and twist out of the way of Cody’s thrusts. His luck ran out when he stumbled backwards off a platform they’d been fighting on. A cry of dismay went up from the crowd as Romeo landed on his back. Cody followed him to the ground and raised his sword high to strike a killing blow.

  Romeo’s cousin called to him as he tossed a sword his way. “Romeo!” The sword fell clumsily into Romeo’s hand, and yet, he grasped the weapon and thrust upward. The razor-sharp tip of the sword sank into Cody’s chest, to enter his heart.

  After releasing a cry of agony, Cody collapsed beside Romeo, while clutching his chest. Romeo rose from the ground and stared down at Cody, as realization sank in.

  His cousin joined him and pleaded with him to flee.

  “Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, if thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!”

  Romeo raised his eyes heavenward and cried out in anguish.

  “O, I am fortune’s fool!”

  A moment later, and Romeo fled from the scene.

  Spenser was the first on his feet in the audience and he applauded loudly, as did others.

  Cody, who had been playing the part of Tybalt in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, continued to play dead as the curtain came down on the stage in preparation of Act Three, Scene Two.

  When the play had ended, Spenser went behind the curtain to congratulate them. Although he had seen their performances several times, he still marveled at how well they both acted. While performing in summer stock was fun for the boys, it was also a part of their training.

  A Tanner often had to employ deception or assume a role, and acting in the theater was great training. Romeo had excelled. He had played several parts well, and when he spoke not a trace of his usual beach boy cadence was apparent.

  The skill of acting had come harder for Cody, but he too had proven to have talent. When he had played Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire, Spenser had been awed by Cody’s ability to immerse himself in a character.

  A girl named Gwen had played the part of Juliet. She was still in her teens, blonde, and beautiful. She also had a crush on Spenser. If not for the fact that he was a dozen years older than Gwen, Spenser would have dated her. As she walked toward him smiling and looking beyond beautiful in her Juliet costume, Spenser knew his resolve was weakening.

  “Hi, Spenser. Are you here to see me?”

  “I would be if I was younger.”

  Gwen gave him a playful punch in the stomach.

  “I’m not a baby, you know?”

  “What you are is a babe,” Romeo said, as he and Cody walked over in their street clothes.

  “Tell your friend that,” Gwen said. “He thinks I’m a little girl.”

  “Spenser turned thirty,” Romeo said. “That makes him officially old.”

  “Ouch,” Spenser said, then he looked at Gwen.
“Why don’t you go change and join us for dinner?”

  Gwen lit up, but then frowned.

  “I can’t tonight. My mom is here, and we already have plans to go to my Aunt’s house, but I want a raincheck on that dinner.”

  “Sure,” Spenser said.

  As Gwen walked off, Cody smiled at Spenser.

  “You’re weakening.”

  Spenser sighed. “If only she weren’t so young.”

  “Dude,” Romeo said. “I was kidding before about you being old. Take Gwen out and have a good time.”

  “I would, but I’ve seen that look in her eyes before. She wants a relationship, not a good time, and I can’t give that to her… not with the life I lead.”

  “About that,” Cody said. “When are we going to work again? It’s been awhile.”

  “I’m not sure, and I warned you there would be a lot of down time.”

  “I’m not complaining. It’s given us a chance to train more; I’ve learned a lot these last few weeks.”

  “You’re talking about the acting?”

  “Yeah, but also the advanced hand-to-hand combat lessons you’ve been giving us. Like you said, we may not always have a weapon handy.”

  “I still want you two to train with a master someday, like I did.”

  “In Indonesia?” Romeo asked.

  “That’s right. Maybe we’ll go during the winter. It’s time you two saw more of the world,” Spenser said. That was followed by an odd look forming on Spenser’s face.

  Cody took note of it, and he recognized it for what it was.

  “You’re worried about something. What is it, Spenser?”

  “I was thinking of Vince Ryker. The last I heard he was in Indonesia and building an army of mercenaries. I know he’d like to kill me, and he’d have no love for you two either.”

  “We’re not boys anymore. Cody and I can handle ourselves,” Romeo said.

  “You’re right, and if it were just Ryker I wouldn’t worry. The thing is, I don’t know how many men he’s gathered around him. I’d hate to find out the hard way.”

  “You said Ryker still thinks of himself as a Tanner?” Cody asked.

  “He does,” Spenser said.

  “Then what if he’s training his own Tanner Seven from one of his mercenaries?”

  That thought shocked Spenser, but he concluded it was a possibility.

  “We’ll leave for Indonesia soon. I think it’s time I settled things with Vince Ryker.”

  “And if there is a phony Tanner Seven, Romeo and I will take care of him.”

  “Damn right,” Romeo said.

  As they climbed into Spenser’s truck, Cody asked a question.

  “Why haven’t you gone after Ryker already?”

  Spenser was silent for a moment. When he answered, there was sadness in his voice.

  “Vince Ryker was one of us. He passed the test in the desert and was Tanner Five’s apprentice, same as me. If he hadn’t killed that girl, he would be Tanner Six. In some strange way… I almost think of him like a brother.”

  “More like the black sheep of the family,” Romeo said, and Cody nodded his agreement.

  SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA 5:23 a.m.

  James Peterman grunted as the armored car he was driving was slammed from behind by a tractor-trailer. Beside him, David, one of two other guards in the truck cursed as hot coffee sloshed onto the front of his uniform shirt.

  They were on the Hume Motorway, the M31, having traveled northeast from Canberra, with their ultimate destination being Newcastle. A voice called out from the back of the armored vehicle as the third guard, Greg, issued a warning.

  “That was no damn accident, Jimmy. The bastard is coming at us—” Greg’s words were cut off as the truck hit them again.

  David was already keying in the radio to call it in, as James sped up. It took less than a minute to put distance between themselves and the truck, but the huge vehicle still followed.

  “The cops are on their way,” David said, “And the dispatcher is—Look out!”

  There was another truck up ahead. It was moving across the highway to block their path. James slammed on the brakes and skidded sideways. His own headlights blinded him as they reflected off the concrete barrier that divided the roadway from the southwest-bound traffic.

  As the van settled, the light grew brighter. When movement caught James’ eye, he realized the first tractor-trailer was headed for them. He shouted a warning to his fellow guards as he braced for impact.

  It never came, as the truck stopped several feet from James’s door. When the headlights on the truck went out, James blinked rapidly. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a man wearing a ski mask getting out from behind the wheel of the truck.

  The man was tall and appeared to have a muscular physique. He was also holding up a sign, white letters on a black surface. CALL HOME.

  “What?” James said in a hushed tone. Then he jumped when David nudged him with an elbow.

  “Look over here, Jimmy. There’s another guy holding up the same sign.”

  James took out his phone and did as the sign said. When his wife answered, he could hear the terror in her voice.

  “Jimmy, there are men with guns here.”

  “Have they hurt you, Marcy?”

  “No, but they said they’ll kill me and the boys if you don’t give them the money.”

  When a cry of anguish came from behind him, James knew that Greg had called home as well, and gotten the same bad news. However, David was a twenty-six-year-old bachelor who lived alone. He drew comfort from that fact until a third man appeared holding another sign. CALL YOUR PARENTS.

  Two minutes later, over a million dollars was handed off to the robbers, as well as the guards’ weapons. The police arrived less than five minutes after receiving the call, only to find their way blocked by one of the stolen tractor-trailers.

  Minutes later, they were made aware that two more such robberies had taken place. In all, it was estimated that more than two dozen men were involved. They had made off with nearly three-million dollars without firing a shot.

  As the police and federal agents were getting their investigations underway, a ship was leaving port. It was a cargo ship, but it held over a score of men.

  Vince Ryker watched as the shores of Australia melded into the pre-dawn night. Behind him, his raiders, the team of Indonesian mercenaries he’d trained, celebrated their success. He had made them more money in a matter of hours than they’d seen their whole lives.

  They were headed to South America, but their ultimate destination was the United States. Ryker told his men they were going there to right an injustice. In truth, he was on a quest for revenge.

  Ryker turned to face his raiders and spoke to them in Indonesian, raising up the whisky bottle he was holding as he did so.

  “You all did well, and as I promised, you shared in the wealth.”

  The men cheered, as one stepped forward. His name was Galong. Galong was a squat young man with a powerful build and brown skin. He was Ryker’s first recruit and his second-in-command. Ryker had come across the thug while Galong was making his living robbing tourists.

  Galong’s method of theft was uncomplicated. He would strike his victim on the back of the head with a hammer, then take their belongings and run. At least two of his victims had died. Galong had proven to be a good pupil for Ryker and exhibited skill with a sniper rifle.

  Although Galong spoke broken English well enough to be understood. Ryker’s command of Galong’s language was superior, as he had studied it, along with several other languages.

  “When we arrive to America?” Galong asked.

  “It may take a few weeks, and then I’ll need to track our target down.”

  Galong sneered. “The man called Hawke?”

  “Yes, and once I find him, I’ll kill him.”

  Galong’s sneer turned into a smile. “We’ll kill him in group, all of us.”

  Ryker grinned back at his friend. Despite the training
he received, Spenser Hawke would be no match for his raiders. However, Ryker thought of them as insurance.

  “I’ll kill him, Galong. I want him to know I’m better than he is.”

  “It will be final thing he ever knows,” Galong said.

  After turning back to the other men, Galong started a chant while urging the raiders to join him. They were shouting Ryker’s name, or rather, the name they knew him by.

  “Tanner!”

  “Tanner!”

  “Tanner!”

  As he enjoyed the adulation, Vince Ryker fantasized about killing Spenser Hawke.

  92

  Seeking Answers

  MOUNT VERNON, NEW YORK, APRIL 2018, 12:23 a.m.

  A car crept along the driveway of the home that had belonged to the late Dalton Geary. The vehicle’s headlights were off, and the driver was using the glow of the moon to navigate by.

  Two men were in the car, both were nearing sixty, and they were planning to break into the house. Their names were Simmons and Carlton. They had been looking for Geary for nearly twenty years. They had known him by another name, Dalton Ellsworth, but they had recognized his picture when they saw it in the newspaper.

  The story had been weeks old when they came across it. Geary’s murder, and the murders of the other people found near him remained a mystery to the police.

  It was a puzzle to Simmons and Carlton as well, although they weren’t surprised someone hated Geary enough to kill him. Had they gotten to him first, Geary would have been just as dead.

  Simmons stopped the car, then reached up to make certain the vehicle’s dome light was in the off position. There were also red lights on the inside of the door panels. However, they were lower and could be covered by a hand.

  In any event, it was doubtful the lights would have been noticed. The nearest neighbors of the home were some distance away, but sound carried well in the night. Simmons and Carlton eased open their doors, stepped out, then shut them by pressing their hips against them.