Tanner leaned back against the sofa.
“Things are changing fast lately, and in more ways than one.”
“You’re worried about being able to reclaim your identity?”
“It does present a unique challenge. There will be a thousand questions tossed at me, some will come from the people in the town, but more will come from the authorities. I need to make up a viable story that will be accepted.”
“Maybe Thomas Lawson can help you with that.”
“He might be one resource I’ll use, but I’ll not only be taking on the name of Cody Parker again, I also have to hide the fact that I’m Tanner. Going public could make that difficult. If it became common knowledge that Tanner was really a man named Cody Parker who lives in Stark, Texas, we’d have no end to trouble at the ranch.”
“Well, how did the other Tanners handle it?”
“Spenser lived and worked under a slew of aliases; he was estranged from his family.”
“I didn’t know that. You’ll have to tell me that story sometime, but Spenser aside, what did the other Tanners do?”
“Tanner One had a wife and owned property, so did Tanners Two and Three, but that was back before computers and omni-present security cameras. I’m working on a way around those things, but they’re still a factor.”
Sara hung her head. “You want us to wait to have children?”
Tanner placed a finger beneath her chin and used gentle pressure to raise her head again.
“I don’t want to wait. I want to make a real life with you. Don’t worry, I’ll make it work.”
Sara smiled and embraced Tanner, then they lay back on the sofa together, with his arms around her.
“I’m so happy, Tanner. When I look at our future, I see nothing but joy ahead.”
“We’ll go back to Stark someday soon and I’ll pick up the threads of my old life. I’ll be Cody Parker, rancher.”
“And also Tanner, the elite assassin.”
“You understand that, that I need that as well?”
“I can imagine you as Cody Parker, but you’ll always be Tanner to me.”
Tanner kissed the top of her head.
“It’s what makes you perfect for me. You understand me and don’t try to change me.”
“And I love you more than anything.”
“And I love you too,” Tanner said.
44
Plan C
OUTSIDE PORTLAND, OREGON, JANUARY 2003
Romeo’s shoulder laceration needed fourteen stitches, which were applied by Cody. Cody’s hand had swollen and bruised purple, but within a few days it was back to normal.
They met with Hutchins inside his small home and told him about their attempt on the Citadel over coffee that had been served by Bev. Hutchins was thrilled to hear of their daring success in reaching the top.
“You two are like me now. We’re the only ones to ever survive the Citadel.”
“We’re not giving up,” Romeo said. “We’ll try again in a few weeks, or months even. Whenever they get their next client.”
“You two got guts, I’ll give you that, but what are you thinking, that you’ll attack the supply trucks?”
“Yeah,” Romeo said. “Unless we come up with something else in the meantime.”
“The Citadel will be on full alert now that you’ve gotten away. They’ll be expecting you to make another run at them.”
“We know,” Cody said. “It’s why we don’t like the idea of attacking the supply trucks or the cargo plane they use. They’ll be expecting that. We have to think of something new, but if we can’t come up with anything, we’ll still take another shot at them.”
Hutchins offered his hand to them. “Keep in touch and I’ll help you any way I can.”
* * *
The following days were spent working on the house. Unlike the Citadel, the boys’ plan for the home was coming along well. A week after their failed assault, they received a delivery of supplies and spoke with Tara again.
Cody got a warm smile from the girl, but Romeo rated a kiss on the cheek. When they asked her if she and her friend were ready to go out on a date, Tara frowned.
“Mandy is still with her boyfriend, but it won’t last.”
“Why are you so sure?” Cody asked.
“I’ve known Mandy since kindergarten. She won’t put up with cheating. She has a good heart and gave her boyfriend a second chance, but he’ll blow it, he’s too much of a dog not to. Once he screws up, you’re in, Xavier.”
After Tara left, something she said kept echoing through Cody’s mind, but he wasn’t sure why.
“You’re in, Xavier,” Cody whispered.
“What was that, dude?” Romeo asked, as they ferried supplies to a storage shed.
A sudden flash of inspiration flooded Cody’s mind and he dropped the cardboard box he’d been lugging as a huge grin lit his face.
“’You’re in, Xavier,’ Tara told me, and the words kept floating around in my head.”
“Yeah, so?” Romeo asked.
“In, we want to get into the Citadel and we’re willing to do anything to get inside. But Romeo, there are people already getting in—the clients.”
Romeo sat down the box he’d been holding as he understood what Cody was getting at.
“You want us to pretend to be clients?”
“Yes, and then we’ll waltz right in the door.”
“Holy shit. That might work, but I doubt they’ll let us bring weapons inside.”
“We can always kill with our hands if we have to.”
Romeo thought about it and a grin came over him.
“It’s perfect, Cody, that is, if we can figure out a way to become clients. Remember what Hutchins said, the Citadel sends out the invitations.”
“Then we’ll get an invitation.”
Romeo punched Cody on the arm. “It’s a brilliant plan. Now let’s make it work.”
* * *
They met with Hutchins that same day and asked him what he thought of their idea. He liked it, and even had a way to help.
“I can’t be certain who they send invitations to, but there are some guys you just know must have received one. I bet I could name several candidates.”
“Good, that’s good,” Cody said. “But we’ll also need the money to buy our way in there.”
“I suppose you two don’t have that kind of scratch, right?”
“Not unless we sold everything we owned,” Romeo said.
“We’ll steal it if we have to,” Cody said. “There are a lot of scumbags who might have that kind of cash lying around.”
Hutchins snapped his fingers. “I know just the guy, but he’s in California.”
“Who is he?” Cody asked.
“A major drug dealer named Denny Haydon.”
“And what about the invitation?”
“That’s the beauty of the whole thing. It’s the same guy. He’s been lucky with the law so far, but it’s just a matter of time before they nail him, or he gets into hot water with the cartel he deals with. The Citadel must consider him prime client material.”
The boys looked at each other and smiled.
“California here we come,” Romeo said.
* * *
At the Citadel, Ann stood before the desk inside Abadandi’s office. She was letting him know that she intended to leave the Citadel once her enlistment expired a week later.
Abadandi sat back in his high-backed leather chair as his eyebrows arched. As Ann was speaking, Abadandi stared at her breasts. Ann knew the older man wanted her. He had once dropped a hint that he could be discreet when needed. Ann let him know that she wasn’t interested, but the old letch still harbored hope.
“Your husband has changed his mind about staying on?”
“This isn’t about Jack. He intends to stay here but I don’t. I’m sorry for the short notice but Jack was supposed to tell you over a week ago.”
“Are you two having problems, Ann? If so, I can see that
you get your own quarters. There is a large suite right next to mine.”
“My only problem with my husband is that he wants to stay here for another two years. I don’t, and I’ll be leaving.”
“Would an increase in pay change your mind, say another twenty-five percent?”
Ann was silent for a moment, as the offer surprised her. When she answered, the resolve in her voice told Abadandi that she wasn’t making a play for more money, but truly wanted out.
“I wouldn’t stay if you tripled my pay. No offense, Richard, but I’m sick of living inside this tomb.”
“There’s no offense taken, however, I’ll have to deny your request.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m saying that you can’t go. When I hired you and your husband it was with the understanding that you were a team. I will not see that team broken up. We need you, Ann. You’re the best mechanic we’ve ever had here.”
“You’re saying I can’t leave?”
“If your husband stays, you stay.”
Ann placed her hands on her hips.
“You can’t do that, keep me here like that. I’m not a prisoner.”
“Maybe not, but you won’t be allowed to leave. My advice is that you forget your plans and resign yourself to staying for at least two more years, after all, you have no say in the matter.”
“But, but you can’t do this, and Jack won’t let you.”
“Really? You’re saying that your husband will fight to have you sent away from him?”
Ann thought that over and saw the point Abadandi was making. Jack might be angry that she was being denied her freedom, but would he fight to see that she was released and sent away? Ann wasn’t sure what Begley might do.
“There’s something else to consider,” Abadandi said, and there was the hint of a smile on his lips.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your pay, as you know, it’s deposited in an off-shore account to keep the tax people away. Until that money is released to you, I have total discretion over it. If you attempt to leave on your own or refuse to work, I’ll take that as you defaulting on our agreement and you’ll forfeit the money.”
“That’s robbery!”
“Call it what you’d like, but I’m within my rights to do so, as stated in the contract you signed when you agreed to work here.”
Ann laughed. “No one reads that contract. It’s an inch thick and doesn’t mean a thing since the Citadel is by its very nature an illegal enterprise. No court would ever consider it. But you owe me money, Richard, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you rob me.”
Abadandi leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his stomach.
“Maybe we can come to a new agreement, a compromise of sorts.”
“Such as?”
“Sleep with me and I’ll consider letting you go in six months.”
Ann looked disgusted by the suggestion.
“I’m not Irina, Richard. I don’t whore myself out for anything.”
“Get back to work, Ann. I think we’ve said all we needed to say to each other.”
Ann’s face darkened several shades as her lips parted to reveal her teeth. Abadandi’s desktop held two coffee mugs, several files, and a basket full of paperwork. It all went onto the floor as Ann swiped at it in rage.
“Fuck you, Richard!”
“Is that an offer?” Abadandi said with a chuckle. “If so, I accept.”
Ann flung open the door and stomped away down the corridor. In the office, Dr. Calavechi stepped out from the adjacent powder room. After closing and locking the door, he picked up one of the shattered mugs and frowned at it.
“This was my favorite cup,” he said, as he sat across from his cousin. “That’s one angry bitch, Richard.”
“She’ll accept her fate.”
“You should have offered her double her current pay. That would have quieted her down immediately.”
“It might have made her suspicious. No, better to have her angry than curious, or she might wise up.”
“No one has yet.”
“The money blinds them. All they see is that tax-free bank balance going up every month and dream of what they’ll do when they finally get out of here and can spend it.”
“They’ll never see a penny of it.”
“No one ever does,” Abadandi said.
45
The Black Sheep
NEW JERSEY, OCTOBER 2018
After the slaughter and tragedy that took place in their apartment building, James and his mother were on their own as far as the police were concerned.
Jerold was being accused of not only killing the young police officer Jude Collins, but he was also being blamed for the death of Det. Pearson. Although Pearson died of a heart attack, the reasoning was that it was brought on by Jerold’s actions.
The legalities of such a claim could be weighed in a courtroom, that is, if Jerold were ever captured. Thus far, the police had yet to track him down.
James and his mother gave statements about what they had witnessed in the hallway. Having to admit that she’d seen her son murder a cop was the worst thing Debra had ever done. Jerold could spend the rest of his life behind bars as a result, and she would have to testify against him at his trial as well.
With no protection in place, James took his brother’s advice. As soon as they returned home from the police station Sunday afternoon, they packed quickly, got into James’ old Ford Mustang, and drove away. Neither of them had a suitcase and had placed their clothing in cloth laundry bags.
Suitcases were for people who traveled, and James had rarely left the city, nor had Debra. After traveling over the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey, they spent the night sleeping in the car at a truck stop. Between the two of them, they had six-hundred and thirty-one dollars.
They were out of Manhattan and away from Maurice Biggs, but they had nowhere to go, or so James thought.
“Your brother Harrison? I thought you hadn’t seen him since before I was born?”
“I haven’t, but I know a woman who he used to date when we were kids. She and Harrison met again at a racetrack and he told her where he lived and how good he was doing.”
“Where does he live?”
“Here in New Jersey, but in the southern end, a few exits past Atlantic City.”
“Do you think he’ll let us stay with him?”
“I don’t know, James. I do know that we can’t live in this car for very long.”
“Why haven’t you talked to your brother in years? You never told me.”
Debra’s smile was sad. “You’re not the only one who grew up with a wild brother who’s had trouble with the law. Harrison was never part of a gang, but he was arrested for committing an armed robbery when he was eighteen. I was only thirteen at the time.”
“How many years was he in prison?”
“Five years, and when he got out Mama and Daddy tried hard to get him to start over. Daddy even got him a job at the place where he was working… but Harrison had other plans.”
“Like what?”
“He stole money from our parents by forging my father’s signature. That money was there so that I could go to nursing school.”
“He stole from his own family? And this is the man you want to go to for help?”
“Where else can we go, James, tell me?”
James thought of Sara and Tanner, but he hardly knew them, and now that his brother was a cop killer, they might be less inclined to offer help. James also assumed that the job he’d been offered at Warren Blake’s law firm was off the table. And how the hell was he supposed to attend classes with gangbangers out to kill him? He silently cursed Jerold for ruining his life.
“I can’t think of anyplace else to go, so let’s go find your brother and see if he’ll help us out.”
“It’s been a lot of years; maybe Harrison has changed. The woman I told you about, she said that Harrison owns a house and had a business. It sounds
like he might have straightened himself out.”
“Let’s hope so,” James said, and started the car.
* * *
Harrison Brook lived in a house that sat on the edge of farmland. The home had been built by the farmer for a son who was getting married.
The marriage never took place, and afterward, the son became a degenerate drunk and a gambler. Eventually, the son piled up gambling debts and owed more than he could pay. But he did have the house. Harrison, a bookie, took it as payment. Along with the house came six acres of land.
It had been a sweet deal, as the home was worth three times the debt it settled. Harrison was going to sell the property and pocket the difference, that is, until he saw the house.
Harrison had never lived in anything but an apartment building, but it was love at first sight when he visited the home. It had two floors and a finished basement, four bedrooms and two and a half baths. The home had been built with loving care by the farmer for his son and the landscaping echoed that sentiment as well. The place was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, and Harrison moved in within three days.
That had been eight years earlier and Harrison had only grown to love the house more each year. He bragged about it to anyone he met and carried a picture of it in his wallet. He felt no such sentiment for the people he came in contact with, that included long-forgotten sisters looking for a hand-out.
* * *
“We haven’t said two words to each other in over twenty years and now you want me to put a roof over your head and feed you? Debra, what have you been smoking?”
James and his mother had arrived at the house and found Harrison cleaning the gutters. They were standing outside the home with him as his mother asked for help.
James scowled at his uncle for talking to his mother the way he was. It also irked him that he looked so much like the man. Harrison Brook was six-feet tall and wore a graying beard, but if he were younger, he’d look as much like James as Jerold. He was definitely of their blood, but that didn’t mean he was family.
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