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

by Remington Kane

  “It’s very good,” Sara said, after taking a sip.

  “I have a buddy that makes this himself, and don’t be fooled, it’s strong stuff.”

  After talking for a while, Romeo and Nadya retired just after dark. They had volunteered to take Sara and Tanner to the airport in the morning and had to get an early start.

  After they left, Sara excused herself, and Tanner was alone above deck. He awoke not realizing that he had fallen asleep and noticed two things. One, it was dark, and two, he was no longer alone.

  Sara sat across from him with a nearly empty bottle of arrack, and she was smiling at him.

  “You were snoring, but just a little.”

  “Did you drink that whole bottle, Blake?”

  “Um-hmm, I like it a lot.”

  Tanner took a good look at her and noticed that her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. She was still wearing the shorts and sleeveless top she’d worn earlier, but she was barefoot.

  “What’s wrong, did you get news about your sister?”

  Sara hugged the bottle. “I called home and Duke said that Johnny’s funeral is today. It’s probably taking place right now.”

  She began to cry again, as she tilted the bottle up and drank the last few sips that remained.

  Tanner stood, took the bottle from her, then beckoned her to follow him. Sara did so, but when she stumbled and nearly fell, he caught her.

  “Everything’s spinning.”

  “I know that feeling,” Tanner said.

  He led her past the galley and into the guest stateroom, pulled back the covers on the bed, and gestured for her to lie atop it.

  Sara fell back onto the mattress with her head on the pillow and stared up at him. “Stay, I don’t want to be alone.”

  “How many bottles of that rum did you drink?”

  Sara’s face scrunched up in confusion, but then she got it. “No! I meant stay and talk, not, not here in bed.”

  “I know what you meant, Blake.”

  “Oh… but will you stay?”

  Tanner settled into a chair. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

  Sara began crying again. “I loved Johnny, Tanner. I loved him, and I killed him. They say when you seek revenge to dig two graves, and I hated you so much that I would have died to see you dead, but I never would have traded Johnny’s life for yours. My hate wasn’t that strong. Jenny was right; I’ve screwed up my whole life by seeking revenge, now I have no career, no hope… and no Johnny.”

  A few minutes later, Sara had cried herself to sleep.

  Tanner sighed. “Ain’t love grand?”

  283

  Don Pullo

  Robert Vance listened as Michael Krupin spoke to the crew leaders who would head the assault on the Giacconi Family’s enterprises.

  They were poised to attack and takeover the Giacconi drug distribution centers and chop shops. It would all take place simultaneously while most of the Giacconi Family’s key players were at the cemetery mourning their two former Dons.

  The Russians were holding the meeting inside a warehouse in Lower Manhattan, not far from the restaurant Krupin owned, and above which he kept an office.

  Across the city, hundreds of Krupin’s men waited to receive orders before heading to their targets.

  The plan was to assault ten key locations with overwhelming force before moving on to the smaller targets and taking control of those as well.

  Vance knew the media would be full of headlines and broadcasts screaming about a mob war, but by hitting hard and fast, the war would be over in a day. And with the Giacconi leadership all gathered for funeral services, they would be taken wholly unaware.

  Michael Krupin finished with his men, then he and Vance climbed back inside his limo.

  “Everything’s ready?” Vance asked.

  “Yes, but I still have a concern.”

  “You’re talking about Tanner, but as I told you, he’s missing in action and from what little I’ve been able to learn, it had something to do with the same incident that killed Rossetti.”

  “Fine, and this Joe Pullo, you don’t have any concerns about him?”

  Vance laughed. “Pullo spent most of his life as a button man for old Sam Giacconi, he’s only in charge because he’s next in line. After the disaster he’ll have today, it wouldn’t surprise me if one of his own people kill him and take over.”

  Krupin checked the time on his Rolex. “In less than an hour, the city will be mine.”

  The funerals were being held inside a venerable church, which was so crowded that many were forced to stand.

  In an alcove, Joe and Sophia were speaking with some of the leaders of the other families, when Sammy Giacconi approached.

  Sammy was wearing a suit, but had his long hair tied together and hanging down his back. When he spotted the redheaded Sophia, he froze in his tracks and stared at her while smiling.

  “What are you looking at, kid?” Sophia said, even as her eyes roamed over Sammy in return.

  “I’m looking at a dream come true,” Sammy said.

  Sophia smiled. “I see you have your grandfather’s silver tongue, but I’m a little old for you and too much woman.”

  “You look just right to me,” Sammy replied, then he walked up to Joe.

  Joe had seen Sammy earlier after entering the church, but he hugged the young man again and asked him how he was holding up.

  “I’m good, Uncle Joe, but I do have a concern.”

  “Speak your mind.”

  Sammy gestured out toward the gathered mourners. “Is this a good idea, I mean to have everyone here like this? What if the Russians attack us today?”

  Joe sent Sammy a reassuring smile as he reached over and straightened the young man’s tie.

  “It’s all right, Sammy. Things are under control.”

  Sammy shrugged. “Okay, but it makes me nervous.”

  Sammy’s concerns were proven valid while they were at the cemetery, because as the burial services for Johnny Rossetti and Sam Giacconi ended, Pullo looked around and saw that most of his lieutenants were answering their vibrating phones.

  Each of the men oversaw a division of the Giacconi Crime Family and had come to pay their respects to two of its former leaders.

  Security was tight, and the press was being kept back, but were still visible beyond the police barricades.

  Joe gestured for the other men to follow him as he walked toward a tent he had ordered be erected, so that he could assure some level of privacy away from telephoto lens and the eyes of the authorities.

  Sammy came over, but two bodyguards at the tent’s entrance told him to leave. He looked past them and called to Joe.

  “Uncle Joe?”

  “Let him in, boys.”

  Sammy entered the tent and looked around at all the men studying their phones. “What’s going on?”

  “The Russians are attacking,” Joe said.

  Sammy’s eyes brightened with alarm. “What do we do? What about our people? Where are they attacking?”

  Joe smiled. “Calm down, Sammy. I’m not the sharpest knife you’ll ever find, but I did learn a few things from your grandfather. We were ready for this.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that those locations are empty. Vance, the man behind the Russians, he had knowledge about us from another man named Heinz. If he had moved on us sooner, he could have hurt us badly, but he wanted to be slick and hit us today while we were at the cemetery. It made sense because so many of us are here and would have trouble responding to an attack, but Sam taught me a long time ago to think like my enemy, and like you, I saw this coming.”

  Joe called over one of the men who was staring alternately at his phone and the second hand on his watch. He was a burly man with gray at his temples.

  “Let Sammy take a look, Al.”

  Al angled his phone so that Joe and Sammy could see what was playing on it. It was a soundless video feed from what just hours earlier had be
en a drug distribution warehouse but was now an empty building.

  There were over a dozen men with guns wandering around inside the building and one of them was talking into a phone.

  Inside his limo, Michael Krupin was speaking to the man on the other end of that phone and learning that they had been outmaneuvered. It was the third such call he had taken in the last thirty seconds.

  Krupin looked over at Vance. “Another location found empty. It looks like Joe Pullo isn’t the simpleton you thought he was.”

  Vance cursed wildly in Russian, but he stopped in the midst of his rant as a thought came to him.

  “Get everybody out of those buildings. Do it now!”

  Back at the cemetery, Sammy listened as Al counted down from ten and noticed that most of the other men were doing the same thing, as they looked at the feeds coming from other locations.

  “Three, two, one,” Al said, and when Sammy stared down at the phone, he saw a bright flash before the video feed ended.

  The other men were all smiles, and many laughed, before all of them looked over at Pullo with eyes full of respect.

  Sammy let out a little laugh of his own, as he realized what had just happened.

  “You blew them up, didn’t you?”

  Pullo looked at him with a solemn expression. “The Russians wanted war, they’ve got one.”

  Al put his phone away, dropped to one knee and spoke two words. “Don Pullo.”

  The other men followed suit, but as Sammy began to lower himself, Joe took him by the elbow and stopped him.

  Joe spoke to his men. “This was just the first battle, and we’ll not only win this war, but I plan to take back the territory we lost in the last one. The Russians are going to learn that no one fucks with the Giacconi Family.”

  The men rose to their feet while cheering as Joe turned and spoke to Sammy.

  “Johnny once told me that he thought you were the future of the family, and I think he was right. I want you by my side from now on. What do you say to that?”

  Sammy’s grin was as wide as any Joe had ever seen.

  “Yes, Don Pullo, and those Russian bastards will wish they had never born.”

  284

  A Familiar Face

  Tanner and Sara arrived in Telunas and checked in at the hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Robert and Linda Coleman.

  Their suite was large but had only one bed. Sara stared down at it as they entered the bedroom to unpack their bags.

  “I guess it’s my turn to sleep on the sofa,” she said.

  “Suit yourself,” Tanner said, “but that is a large bed.”

  “You mean share it?”

  “I won’t touch your goodies, Blake. I’m not a rapist.”

  Sara thought about the sofa she’d seen in the other room and then stared down at the king-size bed. Although she had been in the area for days, she was still feeling the effects of jet lag and thought the sofa wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as the bed.

  “We’ll try it, and I never thought you were a rapist.”

  “Just a scumbag, hmm?”

  “Yes… but, maybe I was wrong about that.”

  Tanner cocked his head. “What have you done with the real Sara Blake?”

  Sara attempted a smile, but it faltered before it could even form.

  “I’m not sure who I am anymore. A part of me died with Brian and another part has died with Johnny. My whole life is now about getting my sister back, and after that, well, I don’t know.”

  “It gets easier,” Tanner said.

  “What does?”

  “Surviving loss, but the key is to keep moving forward.”

  Tanner’s words intrigued Sara and she gazed up into his eyes. “Who have you lost?”

  Tanner broke eye contact and walked over to the phone. “I’m hungry, what about you?”

  Sara accepted the abrupt change of subject and shook her head no. “I will take coffee, though, and maybe a croissant if they have them.”

  Tanner called room service, then the two of them unpacked their things in silence.

  Jennifer’s group had paused in their trek toward the rebel camp as Firman sent his men out to find and kill whoever was stalking them, after more men failed to return from a patrol.

  The clouds had dissipated by first light, allowing the blazing sun to return and bake them. Jennifer was grateful that Firman had moved them near the edge of a stream where they had ready access to water.

  There were three guards keeping watch over them, with the young Prendy being one of them. Jennifer had caught him staring at Melissa several times as if he were imagining her naked.

  The boy wanted Melissa, that was obvious and Jennifer worried that he would attempt to take what he wanted, whether such an act was against his religion or not, for in truth, they were all little more than slaves to their captors and certainly at their mercy.

  Juan Rio wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s hot here, but I could use the rest. I’m not used to walking this much.”

  Both of the Houghs nodded in agreement. They were about the same age as Juan and Dr. Washburn, but not as fit. The rugged daily march toward the rebel camp had been toughest of all on the newlywed middle school teachers.

  Juan leaned in and spoke softly to the others. “Who do you think is out there? I think it’s one or more of those mercs that tried to rescue us the other day.”

  “I pray it’s the Marines,” George Hough said.

  “It’s one man, that’s my guess,” Dr. Washburn said, and the rest of them nodded in agreement, because they knew that he had combat experience.

  “So, what do you think, mate?” Juan Rio said. “You think he’ll just keep pecking away at them until only one is left?”

  The doctor had opened his mouth to answer when the guard to their left cried out in pain. Melissa screamed when she saw the knife handle protruding from the rear of the man’s neck, as he fell to the ground at their feet and twitched violently.

  Prendy must have seen where the knife had come from, because he fumbled at the pistol on his belt before firing wildly into the trees on the left, where a figure had turned and darted back into the shadows.

  Jennifer had caught a fleeting glimpse of the man before he dove for cover, and her mouth dropped open in shock as she realized it was a face she knew very well.

  The man had been Jake Garner, her lover, and he was doing his damnedest to save her.

  285

  An Army Of One

  Jake Garner ran as fast as his legs would allow, as a smile lit his face with joy.

  He had spotted Jennifer, had seen that she appeared relatively unharmed, and had also managed to kill or seriously wound another one of the men holding her for ransom. If he could stay alive and free for another day, he felt as if he would have a chance to rescue her.

  He heard at least three men behind him and swerved toward the trap he had set up. The country of Guambi was riddled with streams, had several rivers, and was bordered on one side by the Indian Ocean.

  Many of those streams only gain life during the rainy season, which can last for months some years, but when that season ends and the streams run dry once more, they still leave their traces behind in the form of long sandy troughs.

  Jake had spent time before the attack on setting up a trap, by sharpening the ends of branches with a machete, and then burying them in the bottom of a trough with their pointy ends facing up. When he was done, he covered the handmade spears with palm fronds to obscure them.

  Jake had used this same trick to kill three other men and he was using it again, but with a twist.

  After coming to the trap, Jake made a long leap, ducked low, and then lay on his stomach to hide among a collection of thick plants that gave him cover.

  When the three guards came rushing along in his wake, Jake watched as they slowed to a skidding halt in front of the scattered palm fronds. Apparently, they had heard of the way in which their compatriots had been wounded for slaughter.

  One of th
e men crouched down while the others looked about. When the man brushed aside the fronds, he saw the sharp spikes sticking up from the bottom of the trough.

  All three men let out a laugh. When their friend had stood again, they backed up, took a running start, and jumped over the spikes. Unfortunately for them, upon landing on the other side, they broke a thin, almost invisible thread of fishing line, which freed several tree branches with still more spikes tied to them. As the branches whipped around, they embedded their spikes into the men’s faces, necks, and backs.

  As the men cried out in agony and shock, Jake sprang up, rushed toward them and began hacking away with his machete.

  He tried his best to make each blow a fatal one; however, one of the men struggled and thrashed around so much that Jake had to inflict over a score of wounds until the blade finally slashed across the man’s throat and he bled to death.

  Jake looked at the horror he had wrought on the rebels and dropped to his knees and vomited the spare bits of raw fish and roots he’d been sustaining himself on.

  He had never killed anyone before coming to Guambi, but he knew he would slaughter as many men as it took to free Jennifer. Still, he would never get used to it and the violence sickened him each time he employed it.

  Before leaving the scene, Jake reached over and freed the gun hanging low on a man who had taken spikes to the left eye and jugular vein. When he checked the revolver, he saw that it was fully loaded. Then, he ran toward the nearby river as fast as he could, as the shouts of yet more rebels filled the jungle air.

  286

  What Goes Up

  Tanner and Sara had changed clothes and walked about the resort to blend in as tourists, while hoping to discover if there had been any new developments.

  After calling home, Sara learned that the rebels had contacted her father and increased the amount they demanded for Jennifer’s release. Sara’s fear for her sister’s welfare also increased.