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

by Remington Kane

“Oh, I just want to see if they’re set up differently and how much they charge here. You know, maybe I’ll get some ideas that will improve my place.”

  Carlton made a pained expression as he asked his next question.

  “You don’t need me to come with you, do you?”

  Celia had leaned over and given him a kiss as he sat on the couch and watched TV.

  “Just stay here and relax. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay, love, and we’ll eat out later.”

  Celia left the hotel and went to the bar she had heard Simmons mention. It was near the docks and looked seedy, but she had been in rougher places when she was younger.

  The bar was quiet in the early-afternoon, with only a few men drinking at tables and no one perched atop the bar stools. Celia walked up to the bar and spoke to the man who was wiping it down with a damp cloth.

  “I’m looking for either Rafe or Ronnie Powers. Do you know where I can find them?”

  The bartender was an older man in his fifties who had the look of an ex-boxer. He shook his head slowly as he took in Celia.

  “I never heard of them, red.”

  “Are you sure? I was told they owned the bar.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  Celia looked around and saw that the people sitting at the tables were talking quietly or looking at their phones. Maybe she hadn’t heard clearly what the name of the bar was. She was in the Sea Lane Tavern; perhaps there was a bar somewhere in Boston with a similar name.

  She left without another word to the bartender and walked back toward the subway station several blocks away. As she moved along, Celia used her phone to search for a bar in Boston that might sound like the Sea Lane Tavern.

  Celia was so focused on her phone that she never noticed the van pulling to the curb, or the two men getting out of it. Moments later, she was hustled inside the van by a man holding a gun. What happened over the next hour would cure Celia of her eavesdropping habit, while granting her a new appreciation for minding her own business.

  107

  Fight On

  UTAH, AUGUST 2001

  As he crouched behind a tree holding a shotgun, Spenser thought back to his first meeting with Vince Ryker.

  Tanner Five, Farnsworth, had returned from his supply run and learned what had happened. He was proud of Spenser’s ability to survive while also being sickened by Ryker’s actions. When Spenser suggested that they hunt Ryker down and kill him, Farnsworth said he wouldn’t do that.

  “Why not? He’s proven he holds a grudge and can’t be trusted.”

  “I know that, and if he were any other man I would put him in a grave.”

  “What makes him so special?”

  Farnsworth had placed a hand on Spenser’s shoulder, and Spenser was surprised when he’d glimpsed moisture in the old man’s eyes.

  “I loved that boy the same as I love you, Spenser. I hope you never know the pain of having an apprentice go bad on you.”

  “All right, we’ll leave him be,” Spenser said, “but if he ever comes at me again I’ll kill him.”

  Spenser had been unable to make contact by phone with either Cody or Romeo and was beginning to fear the worst. He’d rather learn that they had teamed up with Ryker than to have one of them die. It would be like losing a son.

  He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. The boys were fine. They were highly-trained and more than a match for any of Ryker’s thugs. Being unable to reach them by phone wasn’t surprising, given the spotty cell tower coverage in the area.

  The best course of action was for Spenser to kill Ryker and the others on his tail. Then, he could track down the boys and offer assistance, if needed.

  Despite his confidence in Cody’s and Romeo’s abilities, Ryker’s words still echoed through Spenser’s mind.

  There were seven of my men in one group and eight in the other. More than enough to kill two boys.

  Vince Ryker ran along with Galong and four other raiders as they followed Spenser’s tracks through a muddy field. He had told the men to spread out, so they wouldn’t make a single target. It was good advice, but farther out from the footprints Spenser left behind, the mud got deeper, making the going tougher.

  Ryker felt the pain in his right foot a second after Galong cried out. Then, one of the other men yelped and fell forward after stepping in a hole.

  “That sonofabitch,” Ryker said, “He dug and covered up random holes and also buried long nails for us to step on.”

  The man who’d fallen in the hole pulled his leg out of it and took a limping step. After a cry of pain, he lifted his foot and removed his muddy sneaker. Blood poured from a puncture wound on his heel.

  Ryker spoke to his men in their own language.

  “Everyone head back the way we came while stepping in your own footprints. We’ll have to circle around; it’ll be safer.”

  They did as Ryker said, with Galong and another man limping slightly from the wounds on their feet. Two of the raiders were ahead of the others and looking down to find where they had stepped before. Spenser jumped out from behind a tree and sent a pair of blasts their way from the shotgun. He was far enough back so that the pellets had time to spread out and cause multiple wounds over a broad area. One man was struck in the chest and the other caught the pellets in his stomach. The two raiders fell to the ground and screamed in pain as their blood mixed with the mud.

  Ryker ran forward. When he caught sight of Spenser sprinting across a field, he stopped running and brought up his rifle. However, his final step sent his left foot into a hole and he fell forward. When he put out a hand to brace himself, a nail went through his palm. The wound was in the same spot where years earlier Spenser had placed an arrow.

  Enraged, Ryker yanked his hand from the buried nail, steadied the rifle, and searched for Spenser through the attached scope. Spenser was nowhere to be seen, and Ryker had lost two more men.

  As he pulled his foot from the hole, Ryker felt his phone vibrate. When he answered it, he received more bad news. Hawke’s apprentices were still alive. The dark-haired one had killed a trio of men while the blond man had killed three others while wounding a fourth.

  Like Hawke, they had prepared ahead of time for trouble. Ryker had chosen the deacons as targets because of his familiarity with their background, but also for the reason that they would be perceived as easy targets. Spenser Hawke should have thought that killing them would involve minimal risk. Despite that, the man had prepared for trouble.

  Half of Ryker’s raiders were dead while many of the survivors suffered from minor wounds, himself included. The buried nails and the hidden holes could have just as easily been lethal traps. Ryker assumed they were prepared with the cops in mind, and not meant to kill anyone. If they had been, Ryker knew he’d already be dead.

  However, there was one bright spot. His raiders told him that the blond man was unarmed and on the run.

  “Find him, but don’t kill him. We can use the boy as bait to flush out Hawke.”

  “Yes, Tanner. You be here soon?”

  “No, we’ll all meet over at that house on top of the hill. My phone can’t seem to connect with the men there, so you relay the message.”

  “What about dark-haired man?”

  “Tell them to kill him if they have to, but two hostages are better than one.”

  “I’ll tell them.”

  When Ryker put away his phone he felt much better despite the losses he’d suffered. He was through chasing Spenser Hawke. It was time to bring the bastard to him; then they would do things his way. Ryker turned to address his men and felt the pain in his foot where a nail had sunk in deep. Once he had the bastard where he wanted him, he’d make Hawke pay.

  Spenser was right, and I was a fool to doubt him, Cody thought. I’m only alive now because I hung that rope over the side. If I had prepared properly I might have already killed the men who are after me.

  He was moving around the base of the cliff. If the men looking to kill him
had any sense they would have split up and gone in separate directions once they came down the hill. If they then circled around, Cody would have to run into one group or the other. If he tried to race to the distant trees, they could cut him down with their remaining rifle.

  The base of the cliff was a series of rough curves which didn’t allow one to see very far. Cody moved quickly but quietly while listening for any sounds but his own. When he heard them, he rushed forward as if he’d been running hard, until he glimpsed them. There were three of them, and among their number was the huge brute with the other scoped rifle.

  Cody turned and ran back the way he had come. When he was out of their sight again, He skidded to a stop and dropped down at a spot where the cliff base had a sharp curve.

  Having run from the men in what they took to be fright, they would assume Cody was still scurrying away. But Cody Parker wasn’t a man who ran from a fight; he was a man who triumphed over odds.

  The three raiders rounded the curve at a gallop and Cody began blasting away at them. Rounds tore through the two smaller men who were in the lead, and one round hit the big man on his right side. It seemed to have little effect on him, although the smaller men were being devastated. Cody’s final round passed through one man’s skull and struck the giant on the side of the head. That dropped him as if someone had snapped his spine.

  With all three dead or dying, Cody leapt up, grabbed the big man’s rifle, and ran as fast as his injured ankle would allow. Once the other men arrived at the scene and saw their dead companions, they would come after him with renewed vigor. They would also eat up valuable time assessing their friends’ conditions before they continued the chase. Those seconds would be the difference between life and death.

  Cody ignored the growing pain in his ankle and hammered the wet field he ran across. When one, two, and then three shotgun blasts reverberated behind him without any effect, he knew he had put enough distance between himself and the raiders.

  He’d been worried he wouldn’t be able to do so because of the high altitude they were at. Part of his training had taught him that shotgun pellets traveled much farther at higher altitudes than at sea level. This was due to a decrease in air pressure. Fortunately, the same was true for rifle rounds, which traveled farther to begin with.

  Cody spun, raised the rifle, and took aim. His first shot with the unfamiliar scope went high and he adjusted and fired again. As the round left the rifle he felt a jolt of agony as several shotgun pellets entered his left foot. They were closing the gap.

  The second round struck one of the men in the center of his chest and he stopped running forward as if he’d hit an invisible wall. As he toppled to the ground, the last of the raiders turned to run back the way he’d come. He was foolish enough to motor in a straight line, allowing Cody an easy shot. He put the man down at seven-hundred yards.

  Cody checked himself. His left leg and foot were bleeding and in pain while his right ankle throbbed. He took a look at the rifle, saw that he had three rounds remaining, and went looking for the raider’s vehicles. When he tried calling Romeo and Spenser, no one answered.

  Romeo’s phone had fallen out of his pocket during his scuffle with the raiders. Had he kept possession of it, his leap into the stream would have ruined it anyway.

  He rode the current on his back until he felt himself bumping against rocks beneath the water, which ripped his T-shirt. His shoulder and calf ached from the shotgun pellets that struck him, and his ribs and face were sore from the kicks he’d sustained.

  After climbing out of the water, Romeo paused to get his bearings, and removed his bloody and ruined shirt. A moment more and he realized he was still a few hundred yards from where he’d left his car. He had no idea who the men were that attacked him. They had never mentioned Ryker’s name.

  With his phone missing, he couldn’t call Cody or Spenser, but he assumed that they would be returning to the rendezvous area soon. At a bend along the bank he came upon a beautiful woman looking out at the water, where the sun was now bright. She was talking to someone on a cell phone. When she spotted Romeo, her mouth dropped open.

  “Good Lord. What happened to you? You’re bleeding.”

  The woman’s car was nearby. It was an old red Mustang convertible. When Romeo heard the sound of an engine approaching from the direction he’d fled from, he knew he couldn’t leave the woman to fend for herself.

  “There are men with guns coming this way. We have to get out of here. Get in your car.”

  The woman did nothing for a moment and was still holding her phone at her side. When she heard the cars coming, she got into motion and headed for the vehicle. When Romeo got in beside her, instead of starting the engine, the woman was reaching a hand down between the bucket seats.

  “What are you doing?” Romeo asked.

  “My keys fell down there.”

  “Hurry. I can see them coming, and do you have a gun?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t… but I do have this.”

  Romeo jerked violently as a stun gun was pressed against his side and held there for several seconds. As he slumped in the seat, he could hear the cars getting closer.

  The woman, who was named Wendy, set the stun gun down and spoke into her phone.

  “Baby, you can relax. I caught one of those boys for you. Um-hmm, the blond one, and he’s cute too.”

  As Ryker’s men opened the car door to yank Romeo out, he had recovered enough to ask Wendy a question.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “His name is Vince Ryker, but he likes to be called Tanner.”

  “Oh shit,” Romeo moaned, as Ryker’s raiders dragged him away.

  108

  Nosey Gets You Nowhere

  BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, APRIL 2018

  When Celia entered the hotel suite Carlton and Simmons could tell she’d been crying. When Rafe and Ronnie Powers walked in behind her, they knew why.

  “Bloody hell,” Simmons said.

  Rafe and Ronnie almost looked enough alike to be identical twins. If not for older brother Rafe being three inches taller than Ronnie, the mistake would have been an easy one to make. The men were in their thirties, had dark hair, acne scars, and educated British accents that gave the lie to their cockney attitudes.

  They had grown up rich and spoiled until their father died when they were fourteen and twelve. Afterward, competitors moved in and carved up the man’s drug territory. Rafe and Ronnie had spent their lives trying to be like their father. It was a vain attempt. Their early life of living in luxury had left them soft where it mattered most. They had the hearts and minds of thugs, but they’d never have the souls.

  Ronnie moved aside his jacket to show the gun on his hip.

  “You old dudes be cool; we’re here to talk.”

  Celia went to Carlton and he held her as Simmons asked a question.

  “How did you find us? We were very discreet when we asked about you two.”

  “The woman came to us looking to make a deal,” Rafe said. “She thought we would pay her for the information she had. She now knows better, don’t you, Celia?”

  “Yes, sir,” Celia whispered.

  “Did they hurt you, Celia?” Carlton asked.

  Celia responded by showing him the burn marks on her right upper arm that were caused by a cigarette. It only took one taste of the hot tip to get her to talk. Three more burns were to make certain she wasn’t lying or omitting anything. Burn marks five through sixteen were done just for the fun of it.

  Carlton’s wide face turned red with rage, but he was too smart to act on it.

  “What did she tell you?” Simmons asked.

  “We know the man who killed our father is living in New York City and that his name is Eric Tang,” Ronnie said. “We also know you two are being blackmailed by him. Oh, and the bitch told us your real names too.”

  Simmons exploded at Carlton. “Damn it, man! Can you not keep any secrets?”

  “I never said a word to Celia
. She must have found out on her own somehow.”

  Carlton had been holding Celia to comfort her. He pushed her away while gazing at her with distrustful eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Celia said. She moved over to the sofa and sat on it with her legs pulled up, as more tears came.

  Rafe smiled at Simmons. “It doesn’t matter how we found out. The point is we can help each other. You want the blackmail evidence that Tang has against you and we want Tang, so we can torture him. Both those things can happen if we work together.”

  “In what way?”

  “Tang was attacked and so he won’t be easy to get to, but he’ll come to you if you stick to your plan. Threaten to tell us about him, and when he pops his head up to come talk to you, we move in, and you get the book.”

  “But what if Tang doesn’t bring the book with him?” Carlton said.

  “It won’t matter. We’ll torture him and make him tell us where it is,” Ronnie said.

  Simmons was silent, but then he asked to have a moment to confer with Carlton.

  “Sure, but you talk right here where we can see you,” Rafe said.

  Simmons and Carlton moved to a corner of the room and spoke in whispers. It didn’t take them long to decide that they had little choice but to work with Rafe and Ronnie. There was a chance the brothers would get the book and try to blackmail them. If so, they would have to deal with that then. For now, Tang was their main concern.

  “We have an agreement, gentlemen,” Simmons said. “We’ll be heading back to New York tomorrow; can you join us?”

  “Give us another day and we’ll drive down,” Rafe said. “In the meantime, contact Tang and arrange a meeting. Threaten him with us and he’ll be willing to deal, but when he shows up, Ronnie and I will surprise him.”

  Simmons rubbed his chin as he considered the suggestion. “I like it,” he said, “but Carlton and I will have to find an out of the way spot for the meeting. Not an easy task in New York City.”