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

by Remington Kane

  The car doors made a soft clunking sound as they closed, but it couldn’t be helped. They could have risked leaving them ajar, but their search of the home could take hours, and the door lights might run the battery down.

  The car was stolen, while its owner lived alone and was in the hospital. Ski masks were worn as caps, and powder-free latex gloves were on their hands. If Simmons and Carlton needed to, they could abandon the car and remain anonymous.

  Simmons and Carlton were tall, and Simmons was muscular. Carlton had grown soft and had a gut due to his love of sweets and inactive lifestyle. In their youth they had been trained as soldiers and spies, and they rarely went anywhere without a weapon.

  Those weapons were held at their sides and the ski masks covered their faces as they walked about the exterior of the house. A large front window had been boarded over with plywood. It was evidence of the violence that had occurred at the home.

  A peek through a side window in the living room revealed the darkened panel of an alarm pad. Either the bill hadn’t been paid since Geary’s death or someone had cancelled the service. Had the alarm been on, it would have been but a minor inconvenience for Carlton, who was skilled at circumventing security systems.

  They entered through the back door after picking the deadbolt, stepped inside, then listened for the sound of movement in the home. They heard nothing more than the motor of the refrigerator humming and the ticking of a clock.

  After turning on a pair of flashlights set to dim, they moved deeper into the house and found no one. Then, using hand signals to communicate, Simmons went down into the basement while Carlton climbed the staircase to search the upper level. When they reunited in the kitchen, they knew they were alone and free to speak. Their voices revealed their English accents.

  “I want to start with that study down the hall,” Simmons said. “I saw a wall safe in there.”

  “I’ll work on that while you search through the bookcases. The bastard may have hidden it in plain sight.”

  As dawn approached, Simmons and Carlton admitted defeat. They had searched the home for hours, had punched holes in walls and pulled up floorboards. The object they were searching for was nowhere to be found.

  They left the house as quietly as they had arrived and climbed in the car. It was a relief to pull up the ski masks, although they kept them on to cover their heads.

  Simmons drove them away from the home while never exceeding the speed limit, as the soft light of a new day lit up their surroundings.

  “Someone has to have that book, and I doubt it’s the police,” Simmons said.

  “You’re bloody right about that, if the Bobbies had it they would have decoded it by now and we’d be snookered for sure.”

  “Ellsworth, Geary, or whatever he called himself, didn’t he have a younger sister?”

  Carlton snapped his fingers. “Yes! A half-sister, I believe, and her name was Beth.”

  “We need to find her. It’s possible she has the book or may know who has it.”

  “That’s if she’s living in the states.”

  “I’ll hire a private detective to find her. Once we know where she is, we’ll send in Monty and his friend to talk to her.”

  Carlton made a face at that decision. “Perhaps we should go ourselves. Monty tends to get a little enthusiastic at times, and that friend of his is a nutter.”

  “So what?” Simmons said. “If they hurt her, it will be a little payback for what her brother has done to us.”

  “I guess, but the man is dead.”

  “We risked ourselves enough by searching the house, Monty will get the job done.”

  “I hope the woman is nearby,” Carlton said.

  “If she’s far away or back in England we’ll have to hire the job out to strangers.”

  Carlton leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  “I won’t argue that. I’m getting too old to traipse about, and I damn sure don’t want to wind up in prison.”

  “If we don’t find that book before the police do, that just might happen.”

  Simmons drove on, as Carlton drifted off to sleep. Geary’s sister didn’t have the book they were searching for. It was in the hands of a man named Tanner.

  In New York City, Tanner checked an email account on his phone and saw that a new message was sitting in the draft folder.

  The message was from a woman he’d paid to decode the black book he’d taken from Dalton Geary’s safe. The cryptographer, who had been referred to Tanner by Duke, had done a fine job of decoding the book.

  It was a list of assassinations carried out by a man named Jeong and two other men, Simmons and Carlton. If Jeong had a surname it wasn’t mentioned, likewise with first names for Simmons and Carlton.

  It appeared Simmons and Carlton often worked as a team while Jeong worked alone. The dates in the book were about two decades old. The list of assassinations carried out by Jeong was impressive. Tanner noted that the man seemed to have handled the more difficult assignments.

  Having gone the extra mile, the woman had researched the names in the book and done fact checking. The people listed as targets were either dead or presumed missing. They were also predominantly British citizens. Some had held important positions while others had shady pasts. Tanner made a mental note to send the cryptographer a bonus. He owed her for saving him having to do the research himself.

  It was no surprise that Dalton Geary had dealings with assassins. He had hired an assassin named Phelps to kill Tanner years earlier in California. Geary had also claimed to have contacts who had kept him apprised of Tanner’s activities over the years.

  Given how old the book was, its significance might hold little meaning, however, Tanner doubted that. Geary had kept the book in a safe along with cash and bearer bonds. It had value, and Tanner could guess why.

  Geary was likely using the book to blackmail the men named in it, Jeong, Simmons, and Carlton.

  With his curiosity about the book’s content appeased, Tanner stuck it in his own safe and locked it away.

  There was a second mystery to solve concerning Geary, and that was the nature of his association with Tanner’s neighbor, Eric Tang.

  Tanner had found a photo of a much younger Tang with Geary in Geary’s study. In the picture, both men were smiling and appeared friendly.

  Tanner had gotten to know Tang somewhat as they had played chess on several occasions. If asked, he would have to say he liked the man. Tang rarely spoke of trivial things and could converse on many subjects. In some ways, Tanner saw himself in the man, as Tang seemed self-contained and hard to ruffle.

  That Tang wasn’t the simple businessman he appeared to be was obvious to Tanner, and he wanted to know more about him.

  Tanner picked up his phone and called Tang. Perhaps the man was in the mood to play a game of chess.

  93

  Business Negotiations

  TIJUANA, MEXICO, AUGUST 2001

  Vince Ryker’s right-hand man, Galong, stepped out of a stolen jeep and felt his booted feet sink into sand. There were three other raiders with him in the jeep; one of them was a huge man who towered above the others. They followed Galong’s lead and climbed out, then began walking toward the nine men they had come to do business with.

  Days earlier, they had converted their stolen Australian dollars into clean American dollars for a thirty-percent fee. It still left them with plenty of cash to pay for the things they needed, such as fake ID’s and weapons.

  Eight of the men they were meeting with were Mexican, but their leader was a tall American with a deep tan. He greeted the raiders with a mirthless smile and pointed at the gym bag Galong was carrying.

  “I see you’ve brought the money.”

  “No, have half,” Galong said in his broken English. “You get next half once we arrive San Diego. That was deal.”

  “Oh, we’ll still take you across and supply the weapons, but I want payment up front.”

  “No.”

  The
man laughed. “You don’t have a choice, partner. Either we get paid up front or we take what you got now and leave you here in the desert for the turkey vultures.”

  Galong gestured at the American’s men. “Which man you not like?”

  “What?”

  “Your men. Which one the terrible problem to you?”

  The American said nothing, but he turned his head and looked at a squat man on his far right. The other men with him also looked the man’s way. The squat man scowled and muttered a curse at his comrades.

  “Keep to deal or we kill that man,” Galong said, “after, you die to follow him.”

  The American laughed again.

  “I don’t know where you’re from, mister, but we’re nine to your four. You pull a weapon and we’ll drop you so quick it will make your head spin.”

  Galong raised an arm and pointed at the squat man.

  “He killed now. You bring out gun, you die.”

  Nothing happened for several seconds. That was followed by the squat man grunting as a round entered his chest and exited out his back in a spray of blood and tissue. Then, there came the boom of the rifle shot.

  Galong pointed at the men. “Anyone remove gun dies.”

  Three of the men had been reaching for weapons, but froze, as their eyes stared west to a ridge where the shot had come from.

  Galong smiled at them and tossed the gym bag over, where it landed at the feet of the American.

  “We keep same deal, half here, half later, yes?”

  The American was red with anger, but he grunted his agreement.

  Galong raised both hands in the air and waved them back and forth. It was the signal to Ryker that everything was all right.

  “Who’d you wave at?” the American asked.

  “My boss. His name Tanner. You stupid again, he’ll kill all you men.”

  “I believe you. That shot had to have come from over half a mile away. A little inconvenience ain’t worth dying over.”

  Galong smiled. “Smart man.”

  Within a day, Ryker and his raiders were across the border and staying at a rundown motel in San Diego. They had enough weapons and ammunition to start a war. What Ryker didn’t have was a location for Spenser Hawke, but he did have a plan to correct that.

  He took a walk to the side of the motel with Galong, reached into a pocket of the small suitcase he carried, and withdrew a wad of cash. Ryker passed the money to Galong.

  “Keep the men happy while I’m away in Utah. I should be back in no more than three days.”

  Galong smiled as he looked at the cash.

  “I hire women?”

  “Sure, but no hard booze, just beer. I don’t want things getting out of hand while I’m gone. And don’t let the whores see the guns.”

  “What in Utah?”

  “A man named Herman McCoy. I killed someone for him once. He can help us set a trap for Hawke.”

  “I want to see man who thinks to be you.”

  “I’ll let you watch him die.”

  Galong grinned. “And then you be only Tanner.”

  “Just the way it should be,” Ryker said.

  Ryker walked toward a rented vehicle. It was a pickup truck. He had been out of the country for years. The drive to Utah would give him a chance to see some of the scenery he was familiar with.

  “Keep things here under control, Galong. We don’t need the cops to come sniffing around.”

  “The men be good. Go find Hawke.”

  “If what I have in mind works, I won’t have to find him, I’ll know right where he is.”

  “What that mean?”

  “I’ll explain when I get back.”

  Ryker placed the truck in gear and drove off. He was headed for Utah, with a plan to kill Spenser Hawke.

  94

  Game Interrupted

  NEW YORK CITY, APRIL 2018

  Tanner smiled back at Beth Tang as she let him into the apartment, then he sent a nod toward her husband, Eric Tang.

  Tanner was wearing the unique glasses that refracted light in such a way as to thwart facial recognition technology. The lenses had an added bonus of softening his intense gaze. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a black sweater.

  Tang was Asian, about Tanner’s height, but was in his forties. He spoke with an English accent, wore his hair short, and walked with his back straight, as if he’d had military training. Beth Tang also had an English accent. She was blonde, petite, and in her thirties with amber-colored eyes.

  Tang was carrying a tray with an assortment of small sandwiches and pastries his wife had made. Tanner told Beth on an earlier occasion that she didn’t have to go to any trouble when he visited. However, Beth was a good hostess and always had something delicious ready for their chess matches.

  Tanner and Tang walked down a short hallway and entered a den. The space was dimly-lit, but as Tang stepped into the room he gave a voice command. “Lights, on high.”

  The lights in the ceiling glowed brighter and Tang sent Tanner a smile as he set the tray down.

  “We put in smart lights all over the apartment. I love them, but Beth thinks they’re annoying.”

  The two men settled down to play chess. The chess set was impressive, as the board was made from hard woods, while the pieces were carved from marble. The den itself was spacious and contained a large oak desk, which was placed near a window that had a view of Central Park. Tang’s bookcases contained volumes in several different languages, including Mandarin. Atop the desk were three monitors. They were dark, and the computer was off.

  Once they had their drinks in hand, cognac, Tang settled himself on the side of the board with the white pieces, signifying that he would make the first move.

  Tanner had only managed to win three of the eight matches he and Tang had played so far and found him to be a tough opponent. Despite his winning record, Tang, who knew Tanner as Tom Myers, had praised Tanner’s ability, while saying he had a natural affinity for the game.

  Tanner proved to be a worthy competitor again, however, Tang won the first match. As they were setting up the board for another game, the doorbell rang.

  Tang looked in the direction of his front door with an annoyed expression.

  “Who would be ringing the bell at this hour? Pardon me, Myers, but I should see who’s come to call.”

  “All right, I’ll continue setting up the board,” Tanner said.

  Before leaving the room, Tang removed something from a locked drawer in his desk. Tanner hadn’t gotten a clear look at the object before Tang turned and tucked it away. Despite that, he was certain Tang had armed himself with a pistol in a concealable holster. It was a wise choice in Tanner’s view, given that the visitors were unexpected.

  Putting the chess pieces in their proper places took only seconds. Once completed, Tanner walked over and stood in the doorway to listen to the conversation coming from the front of the apartment. When Tanner heard one of the visitors introduce himself and his partner as police detectives, his interest grew.

  He moved into the hall to be able to hear better. The lead cop was talking to Tang’s wife with a gentle voice, which told Tanner he was about to deliver bad news.

  From where he stood, Tanner was unable to see the detectives, however, the one doing the talking sounded mature and likely middle-age or older. He had a deep voice, which carried a Brooklyn accent.

  “And your maiden name is Ellsworth, is that correct, ma’am?”

  “Yes,” Beth Tang answered. “What’s this about?”

  “I’m so sorry to have to inform you that your brother, Dalton Ellsworth, is dead.”

  Beth Tang released a gasp. “Dalton is dead? How?”

  “He was murdered at his home in Mount Vernon.”

  “Mount Vernon, New York? Dalton was living nearby?”

  “You didn’t know that, ma’am?”

  “No, but I haven’t seen my brother in many years.”

  “Things are still unclear at the moment,
but it appears he was living under an alias and using the name Dalton Geary. There were several others murdered at the scene as well.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Beth Tang said, and then Tanner heard her release a sob.

  After asking a few more questions, the cop expressed his sorrow for Beth’s loss and said he’d like her to call the Mount Vernon police in the morning. She was to speak to the detective handling the case. Beth agreed, and the police left.

  Tanner moved back to stand in the doorway of the den. He figured there was no sense in pretending he hadn’t been curious enough to leave his seat and listen to the conversation.

  When Tang appeared moments later, he sent Tanner a tight smile.

  “I guess you overheard most of that?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. Dalton and I were close at one point… but that ended a long time ago. Myers, we’ll have to call it a night.”

  “Of course, and Tang, tell your wife she has my condolences.”

  Tanner left the apartment with the answer to Tang and Geary’s connection. And yet, he still didn’t know as much as he’d hoped to discover about Tang. His enigmatic neighbor intrigued him, and he sensed there was more to Tang than what he showed the world. If true, it was something he had in common with the man.

  95

  One Last High

  PARK CITY, UTAH, AUGUST 2001

  Herman McCoy had led a life of highs and lows. At sixty-six, he was about as low as he had ever been. Herman had cancer and was dying. Before it would take his life, the illness had drained away a good bit of money and Herman worried about how his wife would get by when he was gone.

  Unlike himself, Herman’s wife Janet was in great condition and appeared years younger than she was. Unfortunately for Janet, she had no marketable skills to fall back on, and finding a job would be tough in any event.