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The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

Page 73

by Remington Kane


  Johnny’s words stirred something in Sara, and she sat beside him on the sofa. “Didn’t you say that Joe Pullo and Tanner were friends?”

  “More like friendly, but what’s your point?”

  “What you said was wrong. Tanner must have a weakness, everyone does. Where is Pullo? I want to speak to him.”

  “Joe is busy tonight, but I’m expecting him to call soon. You can talk to him then.”

  “All right and maybe it won’t matter. Like Duke said, his mercenaries have Tanner trapped.”

  Johnny nodded, but if he had to place a bet, his money would be on Tanner.

  Inside the stairwell, Duke’s mercenaries were temporarily confused by the sudden darkness, and while there were emergency lights, Tanner had disabled most of them ahead of time.

  However, their confusion changed to shock and fear as Tanner opened fire on them. His guns were not only silenced but also had inhibitors to reduce the muzzle flash of the weapons, so they had no idea where the shots were coming from.

  Tanner pushed through the four groups as his shots caused chaos and he was past the sixteen startled men before someone had the sense to turn on a flashlight.

  The men were so rattled that Tanner heard them fire on their compatriots, who were converging on them from the upper floors.

  “Goddamn it, don’t fire! It’s us,” said a male voice.

  Another deep voice answered the first. “Where’s Tanner?”

  “You didn’t get him?”

  “No. Shit, he got by us.”

  When both sets of men were two flights behind him, Tanner leaned down and secured a hook to one of the gray iron balusters set in the stairway railing.

  The hook was attached to the rope he carried, and he prepared to lower himself over the side. He would make his way down to the bottom by using the narrow space between the stair banisters.

  It would be much faster than walking and would leave the crowd on the stairs far behind.

  Tanner went over the railing, while being careful to keep his legs straight and his toes pointed downward. The gap of space between the flights of steps was little more than a foot wide; if he wasn’t careful, he could injure himself on their metal railings.

  He had traveled ten floors when the beam from a flashlight found him and someone jerked the rope.

  Tanner’s back slammed into the angled edge of the concrete steps. The pain made him gasp. He ignored it, kicked off a railing, and dropped onto the opposite set of stairs, just as the men above began firing.

  Bullets ricocheted wildly throughout the stairwell, but only a few made it as far as the floor he was on, the fifth floor, without hitting something on the way down and being deflected harmlessly.

  Tanner waited it out by keeping his head down. One round hit him on the side of the vest, but it lacked force because it was a ricochet that had pinged off the railing.

  When the shooting ceased, the sound of boots on stairs resumed, as the persistent and single-minded group came barreling down the steps in pursuit.

  Tanner stood and extracted two objects from the pouches on the tactical belt he wore. The objects looked like giant firecrackers but were black and had no fuse. However, they did have a timer. After pausing to take a guess on just how soon his pursuers would reach his position, he set the timer on one of the objects and tossed it into a corner of the landing above him. The second object he left on the landing of the floor below and timed it to go off seven seconds after the first one.

  The objects were homemade bombs, packed with nails, but were non-lethal. The nails they were stuffed with were only a quarter of an inch long and the chemical-based charge had been calculated to penetrate, but not deeply embed the objects. Still, anyone in their path upon detonation would wish they were anywhere else.

  Tanner’s decision not to kill the men didn’t mean he had no intention of not harming them. They needed to know that there was a price for hunting him, and a price usually paid in death would be paid for in pain instead.

  Tanner headed downward as the men neared the twin charges. He was on the second-floor landing when the first blast went off. From the sound of the screams, his timing had been perfect.

  The first blast caught the men at the rear of the posse as they rounded the staircase, and it shredded the backs of their legs, causing the men to fall and collide into their comrades in front of them.

  One man suffered a broken kneecap, another a broken leg, and three more broke either an arm or a wrist, while the men unlucky enough to be the recipients of the nails each had dozens of puncture wounds in their legs, backs, and buttocks.

  “Move! Move! Move!” one of the men shouted, fearful, and rightfully so, about a second charge going off.

  Only two of the men attempted to help their wounded comrades. They would be rewarded for their good deed by being the only two left unscathed, while the rest of their fellows fled down the stairs in time to greet the second blast.

  More bones were broken, more legs cut and embedded by nails and one particularly unlucky man lost an eye, but all the men on the stairs shared one trait, they had learned the folly of attacking a man like Tanner. They were also aware that Tanner had chosen to spare them and that the blasts could have been lethal.

  Still, they’d been hired to do a job. After recovering enough to speak, one of the men who had been leading a team reached a bloody hand into a pocket and took out his radio. He needed to send a warning to the team stationed outside, while praying he wasn’t too late.

  They had knocked out the security guard and chained the lobby doors closed but had left four men at the alley exit. Those four men needed to be warned that Tanner was headed their way.

  “Team Golf, be advised, teams Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot are down. I repeat, we are down, but subject is active and heading your way. Come in.”

  There were a few seconds of static, then a voice spoke. It was Tanner.

  “Teams Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot, be advised, team Golf is unconscious and bleeding. Whoever you are, if you come at me again… I’ll kill you all.”

  The radio went dead. Tanner had smashed it against the wall and let the broken pieces fall onto the men he had just shot repeatedly with rubber bullets.

  They had been waiting for him outside in the alleyway, after having correctly guessed the path he would use to make his departure from the building.

  Tanner had aided them in coming to that assumption by leaving obvious signs that the door lock had been tampered with, leading them to assume he had entered the building that way and would be leaving by the same door.

  In actuality, Tanner had entered through the front door with a phony ID that identified him as the tenant of an office on the 37th floor. If he had been trapped inside, he wanted to have a reason for being there, and most cops would have just taken the ID at face value and let him walk.

  He had performed many difficult assassinations over the years and had escaped many traps because he was meticulous in his preparation. The bulletproof glass at Sara’s apartment had been a surprise, but not completely unexpected, and could have been counterbalanced by using an incendiary round that would have set her apartment ablaze.

  Tanner had decided against using one, because he couldn’t be certain of who else would be in the apartment with her, nor if the blaze would spread to engulf and harm her neighbors.

  He was a professional killer, not a mindless butcher. He was confident that in time he would kill Sara Blake. Although, he had to admit, the woman was gifted at surviving.

  The men in the alley had been waiting for Tanner to emerge and were ready to blast him as soon as he stepped out the door. Unfortunately for them, Tanner had placed a cheap cell phone behind the dumpster at their backs before entering the building. He called it a second before making his exit.

  Team Golf all turned toward the dumpster after the phone went off with a shrill ring. Tanner had opened the door and shot them with the rubber bullets. While generally non-l
ethal, the rounds were still devastatingly painful, especially when fired at close quarters.

  With the threats handled, Tanner headed for the side street, which was empty of anything other than the occasional passing car. But as he stepped from the alleyway after removing his helmet, he nearly shot a man in the face who was waiting there for him.

  The man was holding his hands up at shoulder level, to reveal that they held no weapons.

  “I come in peace.”

  Tanner sent Joe Pullo a smirk. “Since when?”

  Pullo smiled and gestured back at the building. “Are they all dead?”

  “They’re alive, but they’ll remember this night.”

  “You thought they might be cops, huh?”

  “I couldn’t be sure. Now tell me, why are you here?”

  Pullo turned and walked toward his vehicle, a black Hummer. “We’ll take my ride.”

  Tanner nodded and off they went to talk.

  230

  The Curse Of The Human Race

  As they rode along in the Hummer, Tanner asked Joe Pullo a question.

  “How did you find me? I know you weren’t connected to those mercs back there.”

  “Sara Blake sent them after you, but when I saw that building go dark, I knew for sure that was where you were. I was also following them.”

  “What do you know about Sara Blake?”

  “I know she wants you dead. I also know that she’s Johnny’s girl.”

  “Rossetti and Blake are together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s not good. I was hoping to mend things between myself and the Giacconi Family. Once I kill his woman, Rossetti is not likely to want to make friends with me.”

  Pullo laughed. “You can say that again, but Johnny already likes you. Well actually, he likes Romeo.”

  “I see that Blake has been talking.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “It’s her or me, Joe. The woman wants me dead and she won’t stop coming.”

  “So I hear, and to tell you the truth, I’m amazed she’s still alive.”

  “Don’t underestimate her. I made that mistake and caught a bullet for it.”

  “Maybe there’s a way to make peace. That’s why I’m here. Are you willing to listen?”

  “Yeah, but let’s talk over coffee.”

  Inside Sara’s apartment, Duke lowered his phone and spoke through gritted teeth. “The bastard escaped, and he injured most of the men I sent after him while doing it.”

  Sara took a deep breath before asking a question. “How many are dead?”

  “None. But one man will lose an eye.”

  Johnny stood and took Sara in his arms. The two of them had grown much closer since her return from Ridge Creek, as she had essentially been a prisoner in her own home as she waited for Tanner to strike.

  Her life had been put on hold. She had even resigned from being an active participant in the financial blog and newspaper, Street View, of which she was a part owner.

  In truth, her heart had never really been in the financial news business. She had only acquired Street View as a means to an end and increased her involvement in it at a time when she thought Tanner was dead. That was when her main target of revenge became the former head of the Conglomerate, Frank Richards.

  In a greater sense, Sara’s life had been on hold since she found her lover, Brian Ames, murdered. Since that day all her energies had been directed at exacting revenge on the men who had killed him, and Tanner in particular.

  When Tanner disappeared after their encounter in Pennsylvania, Sara entered a limbo between fear and relief, as she waited to learn if Tanner was dead or alive. And if dead, would his body ever be found?

  The days of waiting had been unnerving for Sara. Still, she did what she could to prepare for an eventual attack. On this night, those precautions paid off.

  During that time of waiting, she and Johnny lived together, as he was unwilling to leave her side for very long. The two of them had become more than just lovers.

  Johnny brushed a stray hair away from Sara’s face and caressed her cheek. “Okay, we tried Duke’s way, now we try mine.”

  Sara looked up into his face, searching his eyes. “You have a plan?”

  “I do. My plan is to keep you alive.”

  Duke made a sound of derision. “Would you care to share some details, or do you just hope that Tanner will go away?”

  “I’m going to talk to the man. I know him, somewhat, and I think I can get him to listen.”

  “How will you get in contact with him?” Sara asked.

  “Joe Pullo is working on that right now. But no matter what, baby, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Duke placed a suit jacket on over the vest he wore. “I have to go clean up one hell of a mess. Sara, stay safe, honey, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Duke left the apartment and Johnny and Sara settled on a loveseat.

  “I’m staying again tonight,” Johnny said. “I don’t want to leave your side until we know the threat is over.”

  Sara leaned against him as he wrapped an arm around her. “I’ll only be safe when Tanner is dead.”

  Johnny said nothing, but he hoped that Pullo could put his plan in motion.

  Tanner shed the body armor and tactical belt before following Pullo inside an all-night eatery on Sixth Avenue. After inhaling the aroma of the food, both men decided to eat, and were enjoying steak and eggs with their coffee while they talked.

  “Johnny wants a meet; you, him, and Blake.”

  “When and where?”

  “At the club, tomorrow at nine a.m.”

  Tanner stared at Pullo. “Rossetti must think I’m stupid. He’s asking me to pinpoint my whereabouts for Blake.”

  “This isn’t a trap. You have my word on that. And while I’m talking to you, Johnny will be talking to Blake.”

  “So, she hasn’t agreed to this either?”

  “No, and he’s not going to tell her until it’s time for you to show. That way, she can’t plan any double-crosses.”

  “Rossetti is willing to take my word that I won’t kill her?”

  “No, but I’ll take your word and he’ll take mine. So, what’s it going to be, are you willing to talk?”

  Tanner said nothing for a moment, but then nodded. “I’ll show. I actually don’t want to kill the woman if I don’t have to. But I’ll tell you right now, I’ll have to. She’s obsessed with killing me. No, it’s more than that, she wants to torture me, and I don’t think there’s a damn thing in this world she wants more.”

  “Because you killed her lover?”

  “Yeah. He was acting as a rat, giving up info on the Conglomerate, and Richards put out a contract on him.”

  Pullo smirked. “The funny thing is, the Conglomerate is dead, at least here it is. We’re back to being independent, but the European branch is still hanging on. A German guy named Heinz, Bruno Heinz, has taken Richards’ place. He’s as big a bastard as Richards ever was.”

  “What makes him a bastard?”

  “He wants us back in the Conglomerate and won’t take no for an answer. He even had Sullivan Silva from Chicago iced and moved one of his people into his slot. Also, Heinz owns the MegaZenith building after his company acquired Richards’ holdings.”

  “Does he have people here?”

  “That’s the rumor, but if they’re here, they’re lying low.”

  “You think there will be a war?”

  “Maybe.”

  Tanner smiled. “Good, then it sounds like Rossetti can use me, and it’s time I got back to work.”

  “I can tell Johnny yes, that you’ll show at the club tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “And you won’t kill Blake? I have to have your word on that.”

  “I won’t kill her. At least, not until after we’ve had this meeting.”

  “Good, then tomorrow at nine it is.”

  The two men grew silent as they finished
eating their meals. After taking his last bite and wiping his mouth with a napkin, Tanner leaned back in his chair and stared at Pullo.

  “How’s Laurel doing?”

  A flash of surprise crossed Pullo’s face, but then his lips curled in a smile. “I should have figured that you’d know about us.”

  “Have you told her that I’m alive?”

  “Yes, I told her… it seemed to please her.”

  Tanner nodded and grew silent.

  Pullo pushed his plate aside and leaned forward. “Do you want her, Tanner? Are you going after Laurel?”

  “No, Joe, she’s much better off with you. Deep down, Laurel wants the straight life, a home, maybe even a kid, and while you’re not a nine-to-five type of guy, you still lead a stable life compared to mine. Plus, I’ll never marry, but you would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I’d marry Laurel someday, if she’d have me.”

  “Take care of her and I’ll keep my distance.”

  “She loves you, you know that?”

  “I know.”

  “And you?”

  Tanner laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Love. It’s the curse of the human race and makes every man a fool.”

  “But not you?”

  Tanner sighed. “No comment.”

  231

  The Other Miss Blake

  In the bedroom of her Manhattan apartment, Sara’s sister, Jennifer, sighed with contentment as she snuggled deeper into Jake Garner’s arms.

  The two began dating only a short while ago, after Jennifer saw the news story about Garner’s partner, Michelle Geary, being killed in the line of duty.

  Garner had been shaken by his partner’s death, which took place in front of him. The emotional comfort that Jennifer offered in the aftermath soon turned to something more.

  Jennifer felt guilty at first and fought her feelings, because she thought her sister might have eyes for Garner, but after learning that Sara was with Johnny Rossetti, she gave in to her feelings and took Jake to bed. It was not a decision she regretted, but often wondered if she would.

 

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