[Tanner 16.0] To Kill a Killer

by Remington Kane

  Scallato entered the basement and moved over to a back corner where an old washing machine sat. The appliance hadn’t worked in years and should have been hauled away, but Scallato was grateful it hadn’t been. It covered the hole that led to his tunnel.

  Claire’s observation that Scallato was often dirty was correct, for while she was at the hospital, he spent his time digging an emergency exit. The work had gone slowly at first, but as the weeks passed, his strength returned. Scallato had found the digging and the hauling away of the dirt to be great exercise.

  The tunnel was only wide enough to crawl through and had a length of just over a hundred feet. The other end of it would place him in a back corner of a neighbor’s shed. From there, he could easily make his way to the other side of the block and to the house with the balcony.

  Scallato crawled headfirst into the hole. Before going deeper in the tunnel, he hooked his right foot around a strap he had fastened to the washer. The strap was made from an old belt he had found in Claire’s closet, and it helped him to pull the washing machine back in place over the hole, concealing his tunnel entrance.

  With that done, Scallato crawled forward. A lesser man would have been psychologically scarred by the time Scallato had spent trapped beneath rubble in the aftermath of a recent earthquake. But Maurice Scallato was several notches above most men in guts and temperament. As he slithered through the tunnel, the thought of being trapped beneath the earth again never entered his mind. His thoughts were on the objective that lay ahead. He was going to find out who was on that balcony, then, he was going to kill them.

  The one hour time limit that Tanner had spoken of to Sara was needed to ensure it was safe to proceed into the house.

  Maurice Scallato had been living in the area for weeks and had plenty of time to enhance his security. He had done so, and Tanner came across two mirrors that had been attached strategically to telephone poles. If glimpsed at through a pair of binoculars from Claire Newport’s windows, the mirrors would allow Scallato a view around corners. It was a trick Tanner had used in the past and it reminded him that Scallato was not to be taken lightly.

  When he finally made it into the home’s backyard, he looked up and saw Sara. She was not much more than a greenish outline in the monocular, but he was glad to see that she was all right. Using the house as an observation post had been a calculated risk, but it appeared to be working out.

  Two steps later, Tanner detected a trip line and avoided it. The line was high enough off the ground so that a small animal wouldn’t trigger it, and so thin that it was barely visible. If not for the night-vision device he wore, Tanner was certain he would have missed seeing it. He smiled. Scallato was good, very good, and it would be a pleasure to kill someone who was as hard to kill as he was. It made him understand Scallato’s pattern of murdering anyone who he deemed competition. Most people died easily, but a fellow assassin was a true challenge.

  Tanner moved toward the front of the home to avoid more tripwires, then lowered himself to the ground and crawled toward a basement window. It was time to enter the house.

  Sara watched Tanner’s erratic movements across the yard and understood that he was avoiding traps set by Scallato. That was both good and bad. Good, because it meant that the Sicilian assassin was confirmed as being inside, and bad, because it meant that the Sicilian assassin was confirmed as being inside.

  Tanner would kill Scallato. Sara never doubted that outcome for an instant. However, she did fear that Scallato might not expire easily, and that would mean that Tanner could be gravely injured.

  She shook her head slightly as she marveled at her feelings for Tanner. She had once hated the man with a white-hot passion and wanted only his death. If he were to die, Sara knew it would devastate her, and she wondered what the future held for them.

  Those were the thoughts dancing through her mind when Scallato came up behind her, placed his knife to her throat, and sliced into her.

  5

  What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks

  Right about the time that Scallato was emerging from his makeshift tunnel, Claire Newport awoke with an incredible urge to pee.

  She was also woozy and assumed it was the wine, but it was the sleeping pills Scallato had mixed with her drink. Claire had consumed enough of the drug to keep the average person unconscious until noon, but she was not most people.

  Claire had once been addicted to the drug, Triazolam, a sedative. The over the counter sleeping pills that Scallato used on her weren’t enough to overcome the resistance to such drugs that Claire had acquired.

  After stumbling to and from the bathroom, Claire realized that Scallato wasn’t in bed. When she went to look for him, she couldn’t find him anywhere, although all the doors and windows were still locked from the inside.

  “Maurice? Where are you?”

  Puzzled, Claire wandered around in her robe and slippers while still in a dazed state from the sleeping medication in her system. Then, she saw him from the back window in her kitchen. A light had come on high up and at the rear of that house she had visited earlier.

  The light was bright enough to make out two individuals, one was Scallato, while the other was the woman she had seen earlier. From Claire’s vantage point, it looked as if Scallato was hugging her from behind.

  Claire’s eyes narrowed in rage as jealousy filled her heart. She grabbed her keys off the hook by the side door and headed for her car, determined to catch Scallato in the act of cheating on her.

  Scallato cursed loudly as the light came on and saw spots before his eyes.

  Sara had managed to turn on the flashlight she had hanging from a belt in the hope that it might warn Tanner of the danger. As for herself, she was certain she would soon be dead, as she believed her throat had been slit open. She was half-right, for although Scallato had cut her, his blade hadn’t bitten deeply enough to end her life.

  Scallato hissed. “Stupid bitch,” and while keeping his knife at her throat, Scallato dragged her backwards into the house and tossed her on the floor of the empty master bedroom. Before Sara could react, he had removed the gun from the holster on her hip. The sniper rifle was still out on the balcony, but Scallato dared not risk going back for it. If Tanner had seen that light come on, he would be ready to shoot.

  “You’re working with Tanner?” Scallato asked Sara, but she remained silent as she explored her wound with her fingers. Her knit hat had come loose, and her long dark hair framed a face that was full of relief.

  Scallato spoke to Sara while examining her gun. The gun was a modified Glock with a silencer attached. It was a much nicer weapon than the clumsy revolver Scallato had taken from Claire Newport’s house. That weapon was tucked at the small of his back in his waistband.

  “Talk to me, woman, or I’ll kill you right now.”

  “Yes, I’m with Tanner, and he’s going to kill you.”

  “I think not.”

  Scallato smiled as he pulled Sara up off the floor by her hair. That was a mistake, and she took his legs out from under him with a sweep kick. Scallato was on his back as Sara readied a foot to kick him in the testicles. However, her foot froze in midair when she saw that Scallato was pointing her own gun at her.

  He sprang to his feet with a grunt and let loose a small chuckle.

  “I see you’re not without skills, but if you strike me again I will kill you.”

  Sara said nothing, but she didn’t fight back as Scallato grabbed her by the collar and held her in front of him. He hustled her downstairs and pressed his back against the wall beside the kitchen doorway. That allowed him a view of the street out front, the stairs, and the rear door in the kitchen. If he were fired upon, Sara would likely be struck first, and visibility was poor in the darkened house.

  “I hope Tanner has feelings for you, otherwise you’ll make a poor shield.”

  Tanner had been entering the basement through a window as Claire was walking out her side door. When he heard her attempt to start her car,
he thought it was Scallato trying to flee. In any event, the car wouldn’t start, as Tanner had disabled it.

  Moving with care, Tanner went upstairs and into the living room. A look out the window showed the car door sitting open. Tanner moved outside, while thinking that Scallato was taking off on foot, but, to his surprise, Claire Newport was running along in bedroom slippers. Tanner watched her, and when she turned the nearby corner, he realized where she might be headed.

  She must have awakened, found Scallato gone, and remembered his interest in the house on the other side of the block. Tanner took out his phone even as he headed toward the rear of the home. Sara had to be warned.

  Sara nibbled at her bottom lip as she felt her phone vibrate. She wouldn’t let herself be used as a pawn in Scallato’s quest to kill Tanner, but she seemed helpless to change that. When she didn’t answer the phone, Tanner would be certain to return to check on her.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?” Scallato said. “Good, when you don’t answer he’ll grow curious, and once I kill him, you’re dead too.”

  Scallato stared into the kitchen to eye the back door, as Sara saw movement outside. Someone was approaching the front of the house on foot.

  Scallato turned back around, then gestured at the stairs with the gun.

  “My guess is that Tanner will climb up onto the balcony the way I did. What do you think?”

  Sara pretended to look toward the stairs, but her gaze drifted to the front door. Scallato had been waiting for her eyes to betray her and he shifted their combined weight so that they were facing the front door. The sound of footsteps followed, faint, but audible, and Sara felt Scallato stiffen with anticipation.

  “Get down Tanner!” Sara shouted.

  Scallato tossed her aside and fired half a dozen silenced shots at the front door. One of the shots blew apart the lock while the others hit the front door in a cross pattern that should assure a strike. They did, and when the door swung open on its own, Claire Newport stood in the threshold on a pair of wobbly legs with the lower half of her right arm dripping blood. The pain of her wound had yet to reach her drugged brain and Claire fell to her knees soundlessly with a puzzled expression on her face.

  “Damn you, woman!” Scallato bellowed, then he spun about looking for Tanner to appear. When he realized that Tanner was nowhere in sight, he figured to cut his losses and leave the scene.

  Scallato aimed at Sara’s forehead.

  “I hope your death grieves him.”

  The sound of running footsteps came from upstairs and Scallato shifted his gunsights that way. Sara used the distraction to roll into Scallato and knock him off balance. He nearly fell atop her, but then managed to only go down on one knee.

  Scallato felt a tugging sensation at his back and realized what was happening. Sara had claimed the .357 he had tucked into his waistband. Still fearing that Tanner would appear at the top of the stairs, Scallato leapt sideways and landed near Claire. He held her up as a shield in front of him just as Tanner dived into the upstairs hallway.

  Sara stood and held the big gun in both hands but didn’t fire for fear of hitting Claire, when she looked up, she saw Tanner taking aim with the sniper rifle. Scallato sent two slugs toward Tanner’s position before leaping out through the open doorway. Claire, still oblivious to her wound, stood to follow after him. That was a mistake. The moment she walked through the door her head was blown apart from a shot fired by Scallato.

  Sara gasped, then nearly shrieked as an arm snaked around her waist. It was Tanner, and he drove her down flat on the floor an instant before a string of bullets perforated the wall and passed through the spot she’d been standing.

  Sara raised her gun up to return fire, but Tanner stopped her.

  “He’s not where he fired from, and your rounds could travel into the houses across the street.”

  “What should we do?”

  “We’ll leave out the back and go to the nurse’s house.”

  “What about Scallato?”

  “He’s gone. By my count, he has only three rounds left and there are two of us, with police on the way to the scene. His best bet is to go into hiding and wait for another chance at—”

  Tanner stopped talking as he noticed Sara’s bloody neck.

  “How bad is that cut?”

  “It stings like hell, but it’s superficial.”

  “Another reason to kill him,” Tanner said.

  Sara was headed toward the rear exit, but Tanner told her to wait a moment. There was something he needed to do. The previous owners of the home had left their old curtains hanging on the windows, and Tanner tore a few of them down.

  “Sara, were you bleeding when you were upstairs?”

  “Um, yes, Scallato cut me on the balcony.”

  Tanner raced upstairs with Sara following and set one of the curtains on fire.

  “What are you doing, Tanner?”

  “Hopefully, a fire will erase all traces of your blood, and DNA.”

  After starting more fires in strategic places, they left the house cautiously through the back door. Once outside, they headed for the rear fence. They were going to the home of the newly deceased Claire Newport, an angel of mercy slain by a master of death.

  6

  La Casa Di Papá

  Scallato was furious at himself for having failed to kill Tanner and worried by the fact that the man had tracked him down. Worst of all, Tanner and the woman had seen his face, although he still wore the beard and was sporting a knit cap.

  Tanner was good, that was certain, and Scallato understood that he’d have to engage the man again someday. After leaving the vacant home after the shootout, Scallato moved through the neighborhood stealthily, while looking for a car to steal.

  When he came across a ten-speed bike left unchained on a porch, he settled for it and rode out of the area. Miles later, he found a car with the keys left inside that was in the parking lot of a bar. He drove that into Nevada, where he stole a second vehicle and headed for Las Vegas. The second car also had a cell phone plugged into a charger, and Scallato used it to call a contact who could get him out of the country. It was the same person he had spared in an alleyway nearly two decades earlier.

  “You survived Tanner? There aren’t many who can say that.”

  “He’s the only one who’s ever survived me… him and the woman.”

  “Her name is Sara Blake, she’s an ex-FBI agent and formidable in her own right. She also survived Tanner.”

  “And now they’re lovers?”

  “Possibly, or at the very least, allies.”

  “Meet me in Las Vegas; we need to talk in person.”

  “As you say, and I’ll make those travel arrangements the usual way, but Maurice, Tanner won’t stop coming for you.”

  “I know that, and I won’t stop coming for him either, but I’ll choose the when and the where.”

  “As you say, I only hope he allows you that luxury.”

  After the shootout, Tanner and Sara went to the home of Claire Newport. It took Tanner only a few minutes of searching to uncover the tunnel Scallato had dug by hand.

  As he went over the home, Sara kept watch, but Tanner believed Scallato was in the wind. He also thought that it would be hours before Claire Newport’s body was identified, since she was dressed in only her robe and slippers.

  Outside, there was a red glow at the rear of the house from the blaze Tanner had set, along with all the emergency vehicles that had responded to the vacant home. It gave the look of a false dawn on the horizon.

  Tanner held up a black backpack.

  “Scallato was planning to return. He left this here filled with spare clothes by the opening to his tunnel.”

  Sara pointed at the backpack.

  “I don’t suppose there are any clues in there to tell us where he went.”

  “No, but my guess is he won’t pop up again for a long while. I had my shot at him and I blew it. Now, he can just sit back and bide his time.”

 
; “But he won’t get the chance to do that, will he?”

  “He’s now as much a target as any contract I’ve ever taken, and a Tanner doesn’t fail. Scallato will learn that the hard way.”

  They left the town of Robbinsville by a circuitous route and switched vehicles at a branch of the car rental agency they used. It was doubtful that Scallato had time to conceal a tracker on their car, but still possible.

  By mid-morning they had eaten and found a motel to crash in. To Tanner’s surprise, when he left his room at five p.m., Sara was already up and had left a note for him in the car.

  Meet me at the bar across the street.

  Tanner did as the note said and found Sara politely turning down the advances of a salesman type in a good suit. The man was handsome, but the wrinkles around his eyes gave the lie to his dyed dark hair, and on his left hand was a turquoise pinkie ring.

  When Sara told her admirer that her friend was joining her, the man took one look at Tanner’s steely gaze and swallowed hard.

  “It was nice to meet you,” he told Sara, then hurried off.

  “That was Jack Kauffman. He was the number two carpet salesman in the northwest last year,” Sara said.

  “Good for him,” Tanner said.

  After Tanner had a beer, they decided to order an early dinner and discuss their options. When Sara suggested that they contact Jacques Durand for additional help, Tanner agreed that it might be their best bet, since Durand seemed well connected.

  “But Durand and his people won’t help us track down Scallato for free; they’ll want something in return.”

  “A hit?”