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

by Remington Kane

  Carlton laughed. “We can blackmail Jeong into giving us the book. If he refuses, we tell Rafe and Ronnie where to find him.”

  “Righto, and when we have the book back, we tell them anyway. Jeong is too dangerous to let live.”

  Carlton stood, after forcing his belly out from between his seat and the table.

  “Let’s go have a drink to celebrate.”

  “I agree, and tomorrow we’ll go to Boston and track down Rafe and Ronnie Powers.”

  “I could use a trip,” Carlton said, “and I’ll bring Celia along. She’s always complaining that I never take her anywhere.”

  “She just wants you to spend money on her. The woman is a gold-digger.”

  “I know what she is, but she keeps this old body of mine warm on cold nights. You should hook up with a bird of your own.”

  “It’s cheaper to rent them,” Simmons said, and off they went.

  Across the street, Tanner answered the ringing of the penthouse’s rear doorbell. The bell was mounted beside an ornamental, yet secure, metal gate that was there to keep people from reaching the less sturdy rear door in the kitchen.

  Tanner found Tang standing at the gate and hit the button that would unlock it. The gate buzzed, and Tang pushed his way past it. The cast on Tang’s arm had been decorated by his daughters; the gaily-colored brace appeared a contradiction to Tang’s dour expression.

  “What is it, Tang?”

  Tang looked past Tanner. “Is Miss Blake at home?”

  “Sara’s working late, so feel free to talk.”

  “May I come inside?”

  “Yeah.”

  The two men settled at the long table that was set before a window and looked out over the city. The kitchen was expansive and was fit for a chef.

  After sighing, Tang got to the point.

  “I don’t know who you really are, Myers, but you’re not the man you pretend to be. You killed that young man with ease and without hesitation.”

  “And?”

  “I would like your help, and I’m willing to pay for it.”

  “Help you how?”

  “I don’t worry about myself, but I’m concerned about the safety of my wife and daughters.”

  “Are they alone now?”

  “I hired an armed bodyguard.”

  “Who’s out to get you?”

  “I don’t know for certain, although it’s likely Simmons or Carlton. If I knew how to find them I could do something about it.”

  “The guys that broke into your apartment may know something.”

  “I’ve thought of that. The police said they both have prior arrests records and will be held in jail until their court dates. I could visit them and ask questions, but then the police might wonder why I would do that.”

  Tanner got up from the table and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. When he offered Tang a bottle, his neighbor frowned at him.

  “Over the last few weeks I’ve treated you to cognac that cost me six-hundred dollars a bottle, now you offer me a beer?”

  Tanner’s lips formed into a smile. “How about some red wine then?”

  Tang agreed to the wine and found it satisfactory.

  “Maybe I can help you find out who was behind the attack,” Tanner said, while settling back into his chair.

  “You’re going to visit the jail?”

  “No, but I know someone who can get the answers you need.”

  “And what will that cost me?”

  “Likely nothing, this man will do it as a favor to me.”

  “You have interesting friends.”

  “And an interesting neighbor, I suspected there was more to you than what you showed the world.”

  Tang opened his mouth, closed it, then he spoke the question that was on his mind.

  “What exactly are you, Myers?”

  “I am what you once were, Jeong, only I work for myself.”

  “And you’re able to afford this penthouse. You must be damn good.”

  “I’m the best,” Tanner said. He spoke the words as if stating water was wet.

  “That’s encouraging,” Tang said. “I may need your services before this is over, and my own skills are rusty.”

  “You took out two men half your age before being attacked by a man twice your size. You’re not without talent.”

  They spoke for a few minutes more and Tanner told Tang he would drop by when he had news for him.

  Tang offered his hand. “I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I consider you a friend, and I owe you my life.”

  Tanner smiled as he shook hands. “Have the chess board ready when I drop by. Since you’re so distracted, I may have an easy win for once.”

  Tang laughed, then turned to head back to his family.

  105

  Due Diligence

  UTAH, AUGUST 2001

  Spenser moved as fast as he could through a muddy field while being careful where he stepped. As he ran, he fished out his cell phone. When his calls to Cody and Romeo went unanswered, his heart sank. He put the phone away and concentrated on the task at hand.

  The rigged gas container was only one of the precautions Spenser had taken while performing his due diligence. He had more tricks up his sleeve. The biggest trick would be to live long enough to put them all into effect.

  When Spenser considered how his own precaution had saved his life, his hope was renewed that Cody and Romeo might also have escaped Ryker’s trap.

  Romeo was kicked in the side again as he crawled through the mud and pretended to be cowed by the seven raiders who were taunting him. When he reached the bushes at the side of the road he burrowed into them as if he were a groundhog looking for a hole.

  Two of the raiders placed their shotguns on the ground, then each man took hold of one of Romeo’s legs and pulled. Romeo slipped out from the bushes, flipped onto his back, and let loose with a modified AR-15.

  Hiding the weapon had been the sole extent of his due diligence and was done so that he could tell Spenser he had followed his advice. With the odds seven against one, the concealed rifle was his only chance to stay alive.

  The gun was wrapped in plastic that was wet, however, Romeo had poked a finger through the wrapper to place around the trigger. Given that his targets were so close, he hit four of them with multiple rounds before the slick plastic made the gun jerk sideways. Romeo would have dropped the weapon if his finger wasn’t stuck in a hole. It might have been better, because the gun kept firing and sent its remaining rounds into the mud.

  One of the men who had gripped Romeo’s legs reached behind him for the shotgun he had sat on the ground. Romeo kicked the thug in the ass and he went face down into the mud.

  Once Romeo was back on his feet, he used the empty rifle like a club to strike out at the two raiders who were still standing. One of the men bent at the waist from a jab to the stomach. He was the same raider who had been taunting Romeo.

  Romeo righted him up again, only to push him backwards toward one of the wounded raiders. Although wounded, the man had been about to fire his shotgun. The full blast hit the man Romeo had pushed and entered the raider’s back.

  Many of the pellets passed through the man and two of them struck Romeo in his left shoulder. A final desperate swing of his empty rifle and Romeo shoved his way through the bushes and received scratches on his arms and neck. Afterward, he moved toward the trees that bordered the stream.

  He cried out in pain just moments later as more pellets tore into his right calf. Romeo stumbled but kept running. He was limping from the leg wound as he weaved through the short line of small trees and toward the stream. As another shotgun blast missed him by inches, Romeo dove into swiftly moving water.

  Cody bent his legs as if he were about to get on his knees. Instead, he propelled himself into a backwards flip and went over the cliff.

  Ryker’s men stared in disbelief for several moments, before moving forward to look down at the road.

  After his flip off the cliff,
Cody had reached out with both arms and grabbed for the rope that hung down along the side of the cliff. The taupe-colored rope blended in with the rock of the cliff face and had knots tied along its length. After falling fourteen feet, Cody’s right hand gripped the rope and he jerked to a hard stop, spun halfway around, then slammed a hip against the wall. He managed to get his other hand onto the rope just as he began moving again, and as he fell another ten feet, the rough stone ripped open the side of his jeans and began peeling the flesh from his thigh.

  Cody moaned from the pain and began moving along the rope. He needed to get down on the road and away before the men above him began firing.

  When screams pierced the still morning air, Cody looked up to see three men tumbling off the cliff. An instant later and he was falling along with them.

  Ryker’s men had only enough time to realize that Cody had grabbed onto a rope before a section of the same cord struck them in the back of their legs. The rope tightened and pressed them against the wooden safety railing.

  After tying one end of the rope around the base of a small tree at the side of the home, Cody had buried the rope alongside the weeds that grew near the railing. Afterward, he had let the remaining length hang down the side of the cliff.

  That was all the due diligence Cody had done on his first visit to the site. His idea was to use the rope as an avenue of escape if someone blocked the only way down from the house. He had taken no further precaution to arm himself other than the gun he’d been forced to leave behind.

  However, despite his only intention being to use the rope for escape, it was proving to be an unexpected weapon. With Cody’s weight unfurling it, the length of hemp sprang from the ground and hit the legs of the men standing at the railing.

  Only the largest of the men was spared, because he had been standing apart from the others. The other seven let out cries of shock, then three of them lost their balance and fell forward. They were perpendicular to the cliff wall and staring down at the road below Cody.

  Thinking to free his friends who were being squeezed against the railing and in obvious distress, the big man brought out a knife and cut the rope. The release of the pressure on their legs had an unintended consequence. It sent the three leaning forward tumbling over the railing and out into the air.

  Cody hit the ground awkwardly then transitioned into a shoulder roll while protecting his head. Nearby, the three raiders who had fallen from a higher position struck the roadway in a less graceful manner. Two of them landed half in and half out of Cody’s stolen jeep. The result was not pretty. The jeep looked as if someone had tried to wash it with blood.

  The third man landed in front of the vehicle, still alive, but broken in many places. His moans were pitiful and sounded wet because of the blood filling his lungs.

  Cody had fallen about a third of the distance the others had. The momentum built up by Cody’s fall was mostly absorbed by his knees. They throbbed, and there was an ache in his right ankle.

  He stood and moved in a lurch toward the base of the wall to avoid anyone shooting from above. When he spotted the dropped shotgun lying near the jeep it was like getting manna from heaven. Cody plucked it from the ground, then saw that its stock was broken. However, a second gun, a rifle, had landed among the gore made by the two raiders who splattered upon hitting the jeep.

  Cody took the bloody weapon and studied it. It seemed all right, but the scope mounted on it was dented and a lens was cracked. It was far better than nothing and Cody was glad to have it. He moved along the base of the wall aware that the others would be charging down the hill to give pursuit. As he ran, he felt his right ankle protest and knew he had sustained damage.

  No matter, he was alive, and despite the five men on his trail, Cody knew he would triumph in the end. After all, isn’t that what he’d been trained to do? Instead of being frightened, Cody was exhilarated. He had faced off against vastly superior odds before and failed his family, while nearly dying himself. He was no longer that inexperienced and untrained boy. He was a man and he had been schooled in the art of assassination and taught to survive by the best assassin in the world. Ryker could throw a hundred men at him and Cody would kill them all.

  “I won’t fail,” Cody said. “Not this time, not ever again.”

  Cody limped along, his intense eyes ablaze, and his heart and soul on fire.

  106

  Friends In Low Places

  NEW YORK CITY, APRIL 2018

  Inside the Manhattan Detention Complex, Monty sat with two other inmates at a table in the large room that housed the cafeteria. A purplish lump the size of a small egg still marred Monty’s forehead where Eric Tang had struck him with the butt of a gun.

  One of the men stopped talking in mid-sentence, then he and the other man grabbed their trays and moved away from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Monty asked, but as the words came out of his mouth he realized why they had taken off. A man took a seat across from Monty and proceeded to stare at him. He wasn’t intimidating physically, yet Monty knew he should fear him.

  The man was named Vincenzo Calicolo and was often called Vinnie Cola. He was a made member of organized crime. Vinnie’s black hair was combed straight back, and his light blue eyes looked like pieces of ice.

  Monty had heard that Vinnie Calicolo was arrested during a raid on a chop shop where dozens of stolen cars were being disassembled for their parts. Despite that, Vinnie was expected to be released soon with all charges dropped. Apparently, a judge would be convinced—for a fee of course—that Mr. Calicolo had only stopped into the chop shop to use their bathroom.

  “You’re Monty, right?” Vinnie said in a Brooklyn accent.

  “Yeah.”

  “My name is Vinnie and I’m a friend of Joe Pullo. You know who Joe Pullo is?”

  Monty smiled a little. “Everybody knows who Mr. Pullo is.”

  “That’s what I thought. Mr. Pullo wants you to tell me everything you know about the people who sent you after the Tangs.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t understand English, kid?”

  “I’m… I’m sorry, yeah, I’ll tell you what you want to know. Me and Craig were hired by these two old English dudes named Simmons and Carlton. We’ve done some minor shit for them before, but I don’t know where they live or anything.”

  “Too bad. If you could help find them, Mr. Pullo would have arranged for you and your friend to get out on bail.”

  “But I’m in here on a murder rap.”

  “That would go away, and you would just be charged for the break-in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That’s right, so think harder.”

  Monty thought about every interaction he’d ever had with Simmons and Carlton, and no, he hadn’t a clue how to find them. They had always contacted him by calling the bar he and Craig hung out at, then met them the next day at different places.

  Monty was about to admit he couldn’t help when a memory surfaced. He smiled at Vinnie and spoke excitedly.

  “Carlton, I don’t know where he lives but I do know where you can find his woman. She owns a beauty shop in Queens where my ex-girlfriend got her hair done. I remember seeing Carlton through the window a couple of times when I was outside waiting to pick up my girl. We never talked or anything, so I bet he doesn’t know that I know about her.”

  “What’s the woman’s name and where’s the shop?”

  “I don’t know her name, but she’s a redhead, and the shop is on Bell Boulevard, near 47th Avenue.”

  Vinnie stood from the table and smiled at Monty.

  “If this information is good you’ll get out on bail soon.”

  “Tell Mr. Pullo that I was happy I could help him.”

  “Sure,” Vinnie said. “He’ll be all choked up over it.”

  Monty watched Vinnie walk away as he looked forward to being released on bail. He knew he would still do some time for the break-in, but that was better than doing life for a murder h
e didn’t commit. And Craig didn’t believe for a second that he had killed Wire. Craig knew his brother would have destroyed Monty in a fight. No, someone else killed Wire. Once he and Craig got out on bail, they’d set up a damn good alibi and go after Eric Tang.

  BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, APRIL 2018

  Carlton’s redheaded girlfriend, Celia, was twenty years younger than him. Among her bad habits was a penchant for eavesdropping. She had indulged in that vice the night before when Simmons had visited their hotel suite.

  Celia had turned on a hair dryer to pretend she was in the midst of a beauty regimen, while she actually had listened in on an interesting conversation. She knew from earlier eavesdropping that someone was blackmailing Simmons and Carlton; now it seemed that they had discovered who it was.

  They were planning to threaten a man named Jeong into giving up blackmailing them in exchange for not telling others where to find him. Apparently, the whole idea of the trip to Boston was to locate these men in case they needed to contact them.

  Celia thought the plan was stupid. Why not just tell these other people where to find Jeong, who was really named Eric Tang, then let them get rid of him? That would end the blackmail, and those people would probably pay gladly for the information. In fact, Celia was sure they would cough up plenty, since Simmons said Jeong had killed the men’s father.

  As Monty had told Vinnie Calicolo, Celia owned a beauty shop in Queens. She told Carlton that she was going out for a while to visit some of the salons in Boston.

  “Why?” he had asked.