[Tanner 16.0] To Kill a Killer

by Remington Kane

  Sara caressed Tanner’s cheek.

  “You’re deliberately walking into a trap.”

  “It’s the best plan I can think of, because once Scallato believes I’m dead, he’ll be off-guard when we confront him at home.”

  “I still don’t like it. There are a million things that can go wrong, such as Bruno.”

  “Bruno will be fine. That’s one thing I’m not worried about.”

  “Be careful anyway, and I’ll be waiting for you.”

  They kissed once more, then, Tanner tossed Bruno the keys to the van.

  “You drive, and do just like we planned.”

  “I got it, Tanner, but I hope the stiff in the back of the van doesn’t stink.”

  “The box is sealed; you won’t smell anything.”

  After saying that, Tanner looked at Durand, who sent him a nod of assurance.

  Once he was seated beside Bruno, Tanner asked for details about where he would be dropped off.

  “There’s a great spot about a mile away from the building. You’ll have cover all the way there that will put you right behind the area where Maurice will be.”

  “What sort of cover, trees?”

  Bruno smiled.

  “Better than that, they’re freight cars; the building is near a train yard.”

  Bruno was driving along a highway, the Via dei Monte Tiburtini, when he slowed and pulled off onto a gravel road that led down to the train yards. As he did so, Tanner rose and moved between the seats to enter the rear of the van.

  “I want to check on this body before you drop me off.”

  “Good idea,” Bruno said, then added, “Hey, Tanner?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maurice is smarter than you’ll ever be.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He never stops thinking, that’s why, and he plans for anything that can go wrong.”

  Tanner seemed to be giving little attention to Bruno as he unlocked the sealed crate, but he still spoke to him over his shoulder.

  “Do you have something to say, Bruno?”

  “Yeah, see, Maurice and I have code words worked out and what you call, um, protocols. When I didn’t send the right message in my reply last night, he knew something was up.”

  Tanner turned to face Bruno as his hand went to his gun.

  “Scallato won’t be at that building, will he?”

  The van crested a small hill as Bruno shifted the vehicle into neutral. After turning off the ignition and removing the key, he opened the door.

  “Goodbye, Tanner!”

  Bruno attempted to step from the van, but he went tumbling away instead. The van had practically come to a stop on the hill, but the ground there was uneven and covered in sand. As Tanner watched Bruno hobble away behind a stack of wooden railroad ties, the van picked up speed. The vehicle moved down the hill and came to a stop sitting in the middle of an open field.

  When it began, the gunfire seemed as if it would go on forever, but in truth, it lasted only a matter of seconds.

  From a vantage point hundreds of meters away, hidden behind a stack of metal drums, Maurice Scallato fired 600 rounds of 7.62 NATO ammo at the van containing Tanner. The M134 Minigun spit death from a rotation of six barrels at over three-thousand rounds a minute.

  The van’s top section was nearly separated from its bottom as hundreds of rounds stitched across its middle. Scallato calmly reloaded the Minigun as fire spread beneath the wrecked van. When the gun was ready, Scallato fired more death until over a thousand rounds had shredded the van.

  He allowed himself a laugh, as he was certain that Tanner was dead at last.

  “Go!” Scallato shouted to Sabella, who was driving the jeep. She wore a hoodie pulled up along with a pair of large sunglasses. On the seat beside her, her purse held bottles of water and vitamin bars. But food was the last thing on her mind. She had just helped Scallato to commit murder. That made her a witness, and she wondered if she would be his next victim.

  As the jeep bounced over rough terrain, while headed toward a highway several hundred yards away, the thing in the field that had been a van, blazed. Gasoline from its perforated tank had encountered dangling wires, and fire engulfed the vehicle.

  Several men from the train yard came running, and there was one who carried a fire extinguisher. He might as well have been brandishing a thimble of water, as his efforts were useless, and the van burned and burned.

  36

  You Can’t Fix Stupid

  After watching the jeep speed away, Durand raced his car down into the rail yard. He skidded to a stop a hundred feet from the blaze, then bolted from the car and sprinted to his left. As he ran, he was shouting orders into a phone.

  Sara was confused by Durand’s behavior as she got out of the car, but only peripherally, as her eyes took in the inferno before her.

  “Tanner?” she whispered, then startled in fright, as a thunderous sound eclipsed the crackling of the fire.

  It was Durand. He was behind the wheel of a massive dump truck that was carrying a load of sand. He maneuvered the behemoth of a vehicle near the van. After a slight hesitation as he figured out the controls, the rear of the dump truck tilted, and sand began pouring out. The sand doused the blaze, while submerging the bottom of the van.

  Sara pushed past the stunned rail workers. She was still unable to get inside the van because of the intense heat coming off what was left of the metal frame. However, she could see inside, and said a prayer of thanks when she spotted the van’s contents.

  There was something intact inside the van. It had been concealed by the wooden crate, but the wood had been ripped apart by the Minigun and partially burned by the fire. The object was metal, shaped like a coffin, and constructed of inch-thick steel. Hundreds of pock marks marred its surface, but no rounds had penetrated it. Its padded interior was the only thing that kept Tanner from being seared by the metal.

  When the top unsealed with a popping sound and Tanner sat up inside the box gasping for air, Sara let out a scream of joy, but then, she saw his expression. They locked eyes for only an instant before his lids began to close, and he passed out.

  Several vehicles approached, with one of them being an ambulance, while another was a fire engine. When a man stepped out of the lead vehicle, he flashed a badge and told everyone to back up. The railway workers did as ordered, while Sara and Durand stayed near the van, which was still smoldering.

  Sara called Tanner’s name, but he didn’t respond.

  The man with the badge spoke to Durand.

  “Sir, is that our asset in there?”

  “It is, and we have to get him out of there. I think he’s suffering from heat exposure.”

  “Step back!” came a voice from behind them, and there appeared a policeman with a device called the jaws of life. It was a hydraulic tool that spread and cut metal and was normally used to free victims from car wrecks.

  It opened a space in the van and two firemen stepped up through it wearing protective gear and carefully lifted Tanner from the metal box. The gathered crowd grew silent as one of the fireman laid a hand on Tanner’s chest, but a cheer rose up as the man spoke.

  “He’s breathing!”

  The men laid him atop a gurney and Tanner was rushed into the rear of the ambulance. When he stirred awake from the oxygen mask being placed on his face, the first sight he saw was Sara.

  The joy in her eyes at seeing he was well was something Tanner would always remember. It dimmed other memories, memories of the times she gazed at him with hate and murderous intent.

  Tanner removed the mask despite the paramedic’s admonitions to keep it on. He also declined an IV, but asked for water. He received it, along with a salt tablet, and drank heartily. His clothes were drenched in his own sweat and his damp hair hung in his eyes. Tanner removed the shirt and the slight exertion left him dizzy. Sara spoke to him, but he pointed at his ears and told her that he couldn’t understand her, because his ears were ringing. Sara under
stood, the hundreds of rounds slamming into that metal box must have sounded deafening.

  Durand took the paramedic’s place as Tanner finished his third cup of water, and to Tanner’s surprise, Durand looked pleased to see him sitting up.

  “Can you hear me, Tanner?” Durand said loudly.

  “Yeah, my hearing is coming back.”

  “In case you’re wondering what hit you, it was a Minigun. I’d say you survived a barrage of more than a thousand rounds.”

  “Thanks to you and your contacts, Durand. If I had been behind anything less than an inch of steel I think I would qualify as Swiss cheese right now.”

  “You can thank Bruno as well. If he hadn’t fallen for our story about grabbing a corpse from a body farm, he would have wondered what was really in the crate.”

  “I expected Scallato to hammer the van with a sniper rifle. Using a Minigun was overkill; he really wanted me dead.”

  “The man doesn’t lack resources,” Durand said. “That gun cost as much as a house.”

  “Who dumped the sand to put out the fire? I think that saved my life.”

  “I did, and we’re fortunate that dump truck was loaded.”

  Tanner offered his hand. Durand took it. After they shook, they each nodded at the other.

  “Are your people chasing after Scallato?” Sara asked Durand.

  “I called them off. The man had a Minigun; even if they cornered Scallato they would have been woefully lacking in firepower. I curse the Italians for not granting air support. Had they done so, we could have at least kept track of Scallato.”

  “What’s our next move?” Sara asked.

  Durand smiled at her.

  “You and I will do a little playacting for Sabella’s benefit, so she will pass it along to Scallato.”

  “And what about Bruno?” Sara said. “That son of a bitch has to pay for this.”

  Tanner pushed back his damp hair to reveal eyes reddened from heat stroke.

  “I’ll deal with Bruno in a way that won’t alert Scallato that I’m still alive.”

  “You said he would stay loyal to Scallato, but then, they are related by marriage,” Sara said.

  “It’s not just that. Bruno also fears Scallato more than he fears me.”

  “That will prove to be a fatal mistake,” Durand said.

  Tanner shrugged.

  “You can’t fix stupid.”

  37

  Greatly Exaggerated

  Sara checked her look in the mirror one more time before telling Durand to make the connection. Durand had his laptop open on a coffee table as he sat on a sofa, while behind him, Sara pretended to weep into a tissue as she sat hunched over on the side of a bed.

  When the connection was made, Durand reminded himself to keep his anger in check, as on his laptop screen appeared the smiling face of Sabella Barbieri. She appeared to be sitting on a park bench. That was likely to make him believe she was being the good aunt and watching her sister’s grandchildren. It was the excuse she had given for needing a few days off. The duplicity of the woman made Durand want to strangle her.

  “Jacques, hello, I was going to call later to get a progress report. Is everything going as planned?”

  “Sabella, there’s been a tragedy. Tanner is dead and Scallato killed him. Our informant, Bruno Allende, he betrayed us.”

  Sabella’s hand flew to her mouth. When she spoke again, she asked Durand who the woman was in the background.

  “That is Sara Blake. She is devastated by Tanner’s death.”

  “So, they were lovers. I thought I sensed something between them.”

  “Bruno also said vile things about you, Sabella, but I want you to know that I never believed him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He accused you of aiding Scallato, which is preposterous, since you have every reason to hate the man.”

  “Yes, and thank you for not believing his lies, but Jacques, listen to me. You are in danger every moment you’re around Sara Blake. She was helping Tanner, that means that Scallato will seek her death.”

  “And mine as well, since I’m sure Bruno has told Scallato of my involvement.”

  Sabella looked genuinely upset as she spoke her next words.

  “I hadn’t considered that. Oh, Jacques, you must hide, it is your only chance to live.”

  “I know, and Sara will be coming with me. Where we’re going, Scallato will never find us.”

  There was silence for a moment. It was broken by a whispered question, spoken in a hesitant voice.

  “Where, where will you go?”

  “Just know that it’s safe and far away from Rome.”

  “I wish you luck, Jacques, and I’m so sorry that things turned out this way… so sorry.”

  “Yes, Sabella, but look on the bright side.”

  “There’s a bright side?”

  “If Scallato is ever killed, I’ll be able to write one hell of a book.”

  “He won’t die,” Sabella said. “That man is the devil.”

  “Goodbye, Sabella.”

  “Goodbye Jacques, and please, run far, my friend, and God’s speed.”

  Durand ended the call and told Sara that it was all right to speak. She walked over and sat beside him on the sofa.

  “That should buy us some time,” Sara said. “And did you hear the bitch try to learn where we were headed? If we were really on the run and you had given away our destination, Scallato would have been our first visitor.”

  Durand released a great sigh.

  “I once loved Sabella, I think, at least a little, when we were both so very young.”

  “Once Tanner kills Scallato she’ll be arrested?”

  “Yes, and then she will rot away in a cell.”

  Sara took Durand’s hand.

  “I’m sorry you’re losing an old friend, Jacques.”

  “Don’t be. She deserves what she gets.”

  “I still know it hurts.”

  “There is a French phrase you’ve probably heard before, ‘C'est la vie,’ it means, ‘Such is life.’”

  Sara smiled.

  “We have a similar phrase in English—Shit happens.”

  In the San Lorenzo District of Rome, Bruno Allende returned to his hotel room after buying a bottle of wine and a cheap cell phone with cash. He was still limping a bit after jumping from the van, but his injury wasn’t serious.

  Bruno had to use his credit card for the hotel room. However, he figured that even if Emilio Degussa was tracking his charges, he’d be gone before anyone from Genoa could come after him.

  After activating the phone, Bruno called a number he had memorized years earlier at Scallato’s insistence. When an old lady answered him in broken Italian that had an Irish accent, Bruno hung up, tried again, and heard Scallato answer.

  “Where are you?”

  “Yeah, yeah. In San Lorenzo.”

  “Have you enough money to disappear?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I just have to get to Milan. I have enough money hidden there to last me a year.”

  “I’ll see to your problem soon and put old man Degussa in the grave where he belongs. In the meantime, take a vacation.”

  “Yeah, yeah. How soon?”

  “Let’s say a month; I have other business to attend to in Sicily.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll contact you in a month.”

  “You can stop the, ‘yeah, yeahs’ now, Bruno. I get the message, it’s safe to talk.”

  “Thanks, Maurice, but hey, the system came in handy against Tanner. He thought I had sold you out right up until the time I leapt from the van.”

  “About that, I heard on the radio that there were two bodies found in the van. Who was the second one?”

  “Two bodies? Oh, wait, that was the corpse Tanner stole. He was going to make you think you killed him, so you’d drop your guard. Ha! The dumb bastard, he doesn’t have to fake anything now. I bet there’s not much left of him either.”

  “He dared to think h
e was better than me; I had to make an example of him.”

  “What about his woman, and the Frenchman? Will you kill them too?”

  “Someday, but for now let them suffer from fear.”

  “That bitch Sara will go gray worrying about you, but that Frenchman might be trouble, he knows about your pet cop.”

  “I know, but Durand told Sabella that he never believed you. It appears that her cover is still intact.”

  “I hated to give her up, but I had to give Tanner something or he would have killed me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. There is no evidence against her and she still has use. With the Frenchmen on the run from me, I’ll have Sabella work to get his position or to be the assistant to his successor.”

  “Good, and I’m so glad you killed Tanner. I only wish I could have done it.”

  “You told them about Sabella, Bruno, did you tell them anything else?”

  The letter he’d mailed, and that Tanner stole, flashed across Bruno’s mind, but he pushed it aside.

  Tanner may have known the town where Scallato lived, but he was dead, and his woman and the Frenchman were on the run. Besides, Bruno wrote that letter in a state of fear and told his sister to run from her home. But that was when he thought Tanner had a chance of winning. If he admitted that to his brother-in-law, he’d be his next victim.

  “Bruno?”

  “Oh, sorry, it’s just that I heard voices outside the door, but it was just a bunch of teenagers out in the hall. No, Maurice, I told them nothing else.”

  “Then we have no worries and I will return to Sicily tomorrow. Remember to destroy that phone. Goodbye, Bruno.”

  “Goodbye, Maurice, and give Maria and the kids my love.”

  Bruno placed the phone on the floor and raised his foot to smash it. The phone was tougher than he’d expected it to be and he had to stomp on it repeatedly. On his last attempt, the heel of his shoe came loose. When he picked it up, he saw that something electronic was embedded in the heel. He was sure it wasn’t part of the phone, but then, what was it?