“I love you, Tanner!”
He turned, ignored the gun now pointed at his face, and spoke words that hurt every bit as much as they healed.
“I love you too, Laurel, and I always have.”
And then he walked out into the night, a captive not only of love, but also of a woman who wanted him dead.
Tanner was propped up against the right wall in the rear of Duke’s van, with his shackled hands behind his back and chained to a ring in the floor.
His ankles were bound together as well, and a second chain was around his neck and connected to the wall behind him.
Tanner felt not only defeated, but broken.
He had long believed that love was for fools, and he had never counted himself among their ilk, or at least, not since he was very young. Now, he knew he was not only one of those fools, but possibly their king.
He had handed himself over to an enemy he knew would kill him, and he did so out of love, while placing another’s welfare in front of his own survival.
In his eyes, that made him just another fool, no different from his father, whose love for a woman brought about not only his own destruction, but that of his family as well.
Tanner thought of Laurel, knew he’d never see her again, and that thought was bitter and more grievous to him than the knowledge that his death was imminent.
Sara, her arm bloody from Laurel’s bite, sat across from Tanner with a gun pointed his way, and with her long-sought victory now a reality. Nevertheless, her triumph was a pyrrhic one, costing her not only her honor, but also the life of Johnny Rossetti, a man she had come to love.
“Tanner?”
He didn’t answer her. He saw no point in talking, but she called his name once more and he pulled his gaze from the floor and stared at her.
“What is it, Blake?”
“I won’t torture you.”
Tanner gazed at her, as a bittersweet smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“You already have.”
The van rolled on, headed toward a place of execution. Tanner’s only hope was that fate somehow showed him mercy. However, like himself, fate was not known to be so inclined.
BOOK 7
SUICIDE OR DEATH – A TANNER NOVEL – BOOK 7
Sara Blake offers Tanner a no-win proposition.
Quote
“Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
—Abraham Lincoln
269
A Man With A Plan
Tanner could feel the stitches in his side strain against the wounded flesh they held together, but he ignored the pain and just kept working on the bolts.
He was in the basement of a restaurant that had been closed for many years. He’d been taken there after surrendering to Sara Blake, to save the life of Laurel Ivy.
After wallowing in unaccustomed melancholy and despair for a time, Tanner went to work doing what he did best and thought up a way to kill his captor, namely, Sara Blake.
He wasn’t in a room but was on the inside of a huge walk-in freezer that still retained the faint scent of raw meat, although, he would guess that none had been stored there for years.
There was a long metal table just feet from him that was attached to the opposite wall of the freezer. Someone had welded wrist and ankle restraints at its corners, which could be swung closed on hinges and secured with padlocks.
Beneath the table was a drain that was already stained red from the years of butchered meat that had dripped blood, and it would act as a drain for human blood if so needed.
Despite Sara’s earlier assertion that she wouldn’t torture him, Tanner still didn’t like the look of that table and had spent hours trying to ignore it, while working on a plan of escape.
He had come up empty.
The handcuffs he had been wearing were connected to a chain that ran down from the ceiling and they had been no problem, not once he managed to maneuver his hands from behind his back.
Sara Blake’s lackey, a man named Duke, had checked him over for weapons but had failed to find the handcuff key he had hidden on his person. The key was part of the shoelaces of his boots. It sat at the tip of the lace and was hidden by a black rubber cap.
The laces had been acquired from a spy shop on the internet, had cost him fifteen dollars, and Tanner considered it some of the best money he had ever spent.
Once his hands were free, he went to work on the leg irons, but found that the handcuff key was useless in opening them.
Still, with the cuffs off, he was free of the chain and could move around, although, due to the leg irons, his movement was restricted to a hesitant shuffling gait. He had made his way to the door to see if he could breach it.
It was useless.
The door was thick, made of metal, and he had seen on his way inside the freezer that there were two iron bars slid across its width to keep it from opening.
He would not break out, but he would also not give up.
That was why he was clinging to a pipe after having climbed up the chain hand over hand, to investigate what the ceiling had to offer. In particular, he was interested in the large cooling fan attached there, which sat above the door.
The chain he climbed was padlocked to the length of metal strut that supported the heavy machine and he felt the whole structure shake with every pull he gave.
Tanner guessed the machine weighed over three hundred pounds and despite the fact that sixteen separate screws, washers, and nuts held it to its support strut, the strut itself was attached to the ceiling by only eight long bolts, two of which were ready to fall out, while three of the remaining six were loose.
Not too surprising, Tanner thought, because he had been listening to the frequent rumble of subway cars since entering the room and had surmised that train tracks laid on the other side of the basement wall.
Years, and possibly decades, of day and night vibration generated by the trains had caused the bolts to loosen. Several years more would likely cause the machine to come loose and fall from its perch.
Tanner went to work accelerating that process. He’d been blessed with a bit of luck when he discovered that the inside diameter of the chain links fit snugly over the hexagon-shaped heads of the bolts and could be used like a wrench.
And although it took hours and left his fingertips raw, when he climbed back down the chain he was no longer just a beaten man awaiting his execution, but rather, he was a man with a plan.
270
Suicide Or Death
Tanner had been locked inside the freezer for the better part of a day when Sara returned and peered through the tempered glass, which was set at eye level in the door.
Tanner had considered breaking the glass earlier, but the slot was too small to reach an arm through and the glass was reinforced with a wire mesh.
During her absence, Tanner had relieved his bladder and watched the liquid flow down the drain beneath the long table, but with no food or water, he had wondered if Sara had simply left him alone to die of thirst.
When he finally heard the door that led down to the basement squeak upon opening, he got into position. He was standing back against the opposite wall where she had previously seen him, and except for the handcuffs laying open on the floor, he looked as defenseless as the last time she saw him.
Sara’s eyes widened when she noticed that his hands were free, but she entered without hesitation and Tanner saw that she was holding a gun.
He was about to kill her when she did something that made him stay his hand. After opening the door and stepping into the room, Sara leaned down and slid her gun across the floor to him.
“I know you have no reason to trust me, Tanner, but I’m hoping that you’ll at least let me talk, that you’ll hear me out and… I’m hoping you won’t kill me.”
Tanner stared down at the gun and then back up at her face. She looked like hell and he wondered if Johnny Rossetti’s death was the cause of it, or… was there something else?
&n
bsp; Tanner was standing with his arms up and was grasping the chain. He tightened his grip and spoke.
“What’s going on, Blake?”
Sara looked down at the gun and her face showed surprise that he hadn’t reached for it, but then she met his eyes.
“I want to make a deal.”
“What deal? And why should I ever trust you again?”
“I could have opened the door and shot you to death or just left you here to die, but instead, I gave you my gun. Doesn’t that tell you that I’m serious, desperate even?”
“All right, what’s the deal?”
“Your life in exchange for your help. My sister, Jenny, she’s being held for ransom by a group of religious extremists and I want you to get her back, to free her. If anyone could do it, it would be you.”
Tanner adjusted his grip on the chain again, as he pondered her words.
“Where is she being held?”
“She’s… she’s in Guambi.”
“Guambi?”
“It’s a small country located—”
“—near Indonesia, I know, and these aren’t normal kidnappers, are they?”
“No, they call themselves the RRK, but it translates to the People’s Freedom Fighters. There are estimated to be hundreds of them.”
“You want me to travel halfway across the world, fight hundreds of armed men, and free your sister. Is that the deal you’re offering? It sounds more like a suicide mission, and anyway, isn’t it something the government should be handling?”
“The State Department is in talks with the government there, or rather, what’s left of the government, but the people that have Jenny, my sister, they’ve already killed two hostages. Tanner, they hacked them to death with machetes… and time is running out.”
“Why should I care what happens to your sister? And you’ve already proven that you can’t be trusted.”
Sara stared at him with defiance in her eyes. “I could have killed you and I didn’t. I also gave you my gun as proof of my sincerity. I love my sister, Tanner, and you’re the only one I know who would even have a chance of getting her back. If you want me to beg, I’ll do it.”
“Come here.”
“Why?”
“I’ll consider the deal, but I want you to come over here now.”
Sara hesitated for just a second, then walked over and stood before Tanner with a questioning look in her eyes.
He let go of the chain and the massive cooling fan swung down from the ceiling and smashed the spot Sara had been standing on.
The sudden noise and crash of metal frightened her, and she grabbed onto Tanner’s arm without realizing it.
“Good God! That could have crushed me.”
“That was the plan,” Tanner said, as he picked up the gun with one hand and grabbed Sara by the neck with the other.
Sara swallowed a cold lump of fear, as she looked into Tanner’s eyes. “You’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t you?”
“You stuck a gun in Laurel’s mouth and your own lying lips got Johnny killed.”
Sara’s legs gave out as she began to sob. Tanner released her and watched as she slid down to the floor. Her crying was harsh and made of her face an ugly mask as she fell over onto her side while gripping her hair, as if she meant to rip it from her head.
Tanner stared down at her in bewilderment. Sara Blake was one of the toughest people he had ever known and the only one ever to best him, even if her method to accomplish the task was unconventional. To see her fall apart was unnerving, and he found his hatred for her dissipating, to be replaced by pity.
Nearly a minute passed before Sara sat up against the wall. She wiped away tears and mucus with the sleeve of her blouse. After swallowing several times to clear her throat, she gazed up at Tanner with a sorrowful expression.
“I loved him, Tanner. I loved Johnny and because of me, he’s dead. My sister, Jenny, she always said that my hate for you would destroy me, and she was so right, but it destroyed Johnny as well. I’m not sure that I can live with that, so if you want to kill me, just kill me… it’s what I deserve.”
Ten full seconds passed before Tanner spoke. They were seconds in which his finger twitched twice upon the gun’s trigger, but did not squeeze it.
He nodded toward the cooling fan. “We’ll have to crawl over that thing to get out of here, so I hope you have the key for these leg irons.”
Sara stared up at him for a moment, before reaching into a pocket of her jeans. She then removed the key, leaned over, and freed Tanner from the shackles.
When she stood, she touched Tanner on the arm.
“Will you help me get my sister back? I’ll pay you anything you want.”
“All I want right now is food and a shower, but you can tell me everything you know about what happened to your sister after that.”
Sara headed for the door. “I have a car outside; we’ll go to my apartment.”
Before he could comment, Sara had climbed over the fallen cooling fan and was headed for the basement steps. Tanner followed, but he looked back at the place he thought he might die in, had expected to die in, even after rigging the machine to fall. Sara could have shot him the instant the door opened, or simply never have returned and left him to die.
Tanner took a final look, then he followed Sara up into the fading light of a day he thought might be his last.
271
Surreal
Tanner stayed in Sara’s shower a long time, as he washed away the grime of the freezer.
While on the way to her apartment, she had ordered food from a favorite restaurant of hers that offered delivery, and Tanner had eaten steak, along with a salad and baked potato, after first downing four bottles of water.
Sara had left him alone after the food arrived. He had eaten while gazing about at her apartment and asking himself why he agreed to help her, why he hadn’t just killed her and escaped his prison. He had no answers for himself, but the image returned to his mind of her sliding her gun toward him. He knew the act had taken courage but must have been fueled by desperation.
There were family photos all along the hallway leading to the bedroom. He spotted several where Sara and a woman with blonde hair were smiling together. He surmised from the strong resemblance that this was the sister she hoped to save.
He had failed to save his own sisters, but like Sara, he had risked his life to save someone he loved, to save Laurel Ivy, and like Sara, he had given up his weapon and surrendered to an enemy he knew would kill him.
That they were both still alive was against the odds, but the odds seemed greater still that her sister could be found inside a vast jungle and then rescued. However, he had beaten the odds his entire life and hoped to do so once again.
In the bedroom, atop a side table, there was an unframed photo of Sara with Johnny Rossetti, and yes, they appeared to be in love. Yet, it was her hate that had caused Johnny’s death. Tanner knew that Sara blamed herself for Johnny’s demise, and rightfully so.
After taking a long, hot shower, Tanner left Sara’s bathroom wearing only a towel around his waist. She entered moments later carrying packages.
When she spied the stitched-up wound on his left side, she made a face.
“I heard you’d been shot. That’s not infected, is it?”
“No, only reddened from the hot water, but I should cover it with a fresh bandage.”
“I have some in the bathroom,” Sara said and after walking into the room that was still steamy from Tanner’s shower, she returned and told him to raise his arm.
While applying ointment and a bandage to his wound, Sara stared up into Tanner’s eyes and saw that he was giving her a strange look.
“This is all a bit surreal, isn’t it?” she said, and Tanner grunted his agreement.
When she finished with the bandage, she pointed at the bags she had piled atop the bed.
“The small bag contains a toiletry kit, while the big bag contains new clothing. Everything is in the s
izes you asked for and they’ll be delivering the suitcase and the rest of the supplies to the airport within the next hour.”
“When will the plane be ready?”
“It’s a private jet and it will be taking off for Jakarta in three hours.”
“It’s a long flight. How many stops will we make?”
“Just one before we land in Jakarta, we’ll be refueling in South Korea and after that, we’ll have to spend the night in Jakarta.”
“And from there we go to Guambi?”
“No, the airport there is closed, but the resort we’ll be staying at in the neighboring country of Telunas will fly us from Jakarta on their plane. It’s a tight schedule, but we should make it.”
“I see.”
Tanner opened a bag and took out a pair of jeans.
Sara spoke from the doorway. “I’ll be out on the balcony.”
Tanner answered her with a nod and Sara left the room.
When he joined her twenty minutes later, he was wearing the new jeans along with a black long-sleeve T-shirt, and he had shaved as well.
The city was ablaze with artificial lights and the cacophony of sounds it produced drifted up to them from the busy streets below.
Tanner poured wine into a glass and sat across from Sara in a wicker chair.
“Tell me everything you know about what happened to your sister.”
After sipping her own wine, Sara spoke.
“Jenny runs a non-profit organization and was there on a humanitarian mission. The government had recently stabilized, or so it seemed, but rebels still loyal to the old leader killed the new president and plunged the country back into civil war.”
“You said that they were religious extremists?”
“Yes, and it’s the extremists who were responsible for the anarchy and assassination, but the U.S. State Department informed my father that they weren’t certain if that core group was behind all the kidnappings.”
The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart Page 87