Young Guns Box Set

by Kane, Remington

  When the door to his suite opened and he saw two men dressed as guards entering, he rushed toward them. When he took in Cody’s extraordinary eyes, Kabell faltered in his step. He had worked hard to achieve such a gaze himself, but it was nothing compared to the intense eyes looking him over. There was a presence about the young man as well. It told you that he was not someone to be treated with disrespect.

  Kabell had been set to shout at them in anger. He suppressed the rage he was feeling, while still expressing his displeasure.

  “Why was I locked in my suite? It’s unacceptable,” Kabell declared.

  Cody and Romeo were staring at him, at his face, and Kabell raised a hand to point at himself.

  “Do you see this? Do you see what that so-called doctor did to me? I demand to speak to Mr. Abadandi.”

  Romeo looked at Cody. “His face is the same. All they did was leave cuts on his chin and nose.”

  It was true. While he was a doctor, a general practitioner, George Calavechi was not a trained plastic surgeon. When a client paid extra to have their appearance altered, Calavechi placed them under anesthesia and administered a few cuts so that they would feel something beneath the bandages they wore.

  The doctor was also not qualified to act as an anesthesiologist, and two guests had died on the table over the years. It didn’t matter. They would have died anyway, after leaving for the new life promised them by the Citadel.

  “All the man did was cut me,” Kabell said. “I still look exactly the same except for these minor lacerations.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Cody said, while closing the gap between them.

  “How is that good? Do you know how much I paid to have my face changed? A small fortune, that’s how much, and I still need it done. As many times as they’ve displayed my photo on TV, I wouldn’t last a minute out in public.”

  “You’re not going to last another minute in here either,” Cody told Kabell. He ripped the bottle from the man’s hand, then he brought it back around to smash it against the side of the cult leader’s head.

  Kabell dropped to the floor while the thick glass bottle stayed intact.

  Cody looked back at Romeo. “Do you want the honors?”

  “No man, he’s all yours.”

  Kabell remained conscious enough to understand that he was about to die. He reached up a beseeching hand toward Cody.

  “Don’t… I’ll pay you anything.”

  “This isn’t about money,” Cody said. He swung the bottle again. Instead of striking Kabell, he hit the corner of the console television. This time the bottle shattered, leaving behind the neck with a jagged edge. Cody flipped Kabell over, then sliced open his throat.

  Kabell, still debilitated by the blow to his head, made a weak attempt to rise from the floor. Afterward, he settled there, lying on his side, as his life drained into the carpet. Romeo removed the small camera he had and took a series of pictures.

  It was proof positive that the famed Citadel had been not only breeched but had also failed to protect one of its clients.

  When they were certain that Kabell had died, they went in search of a way out of the Citadel. Before leaving, they restored the keypad outside Kabell’s suite. They didn’t want the cult leader’s death to be noticed before they made their escape.

  They found no way out, as Abadandi had smashed all the keypads at the tunnel exits. Unlike the less sophisticated keypads in the living quarters, the tunnel keypads couldn’t be manually bypassed.

  When they reached the main interior gate and found the same, the boys realized they were trapped. They had done what no other assassin before them could and breached the Citadel. Now it was looking like it was going to be their tomb.

  65

  Gone Too Far

  BROOKLYN, OCTOBER 2018

  Tanner took out his phone to call Sara. When he heard her answer, his heart rejoiced.

  “Are you all right, Tanner?”

  “I’m good, but you’re in danger. Biggs has sent three men after you.”

  “They’re dead,” Sara said. “Now I’m just waiting for the police to show up.”

  Tanner laughed. “You killed them?”

  “Yes, by outsmarting two of them and shooting their leader. And what about you?”

  “I took out four more, but Biggs got away in a bulletproof vehicle. Not that it matters, I’ll track him down and kill him.”

  “And if you don’t, I will,” Sara said.

  “Hey, Sara?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby, and I’ll see you back at home later.”

  Tanner ended the call. He had been on the move while he was speaking and could now detect the sound of sirens approaching the area. Someone must have reported hearing all the gunshots.

  Then he laughed again as he thought of his fiancée taking out three hardened gangbangers. He knew from first-hand experience that Sara was tough, but she still continued to impress him. One thing was certain, she was no one’s damsel in distress. Her toughness made him love her even more.

  Tanner reached his real vehicle, started the engine, and went in search of Maurice Biggs.

  * * *

  Biggs was still inside the Escalade. He was gingerly probing the throbbing red welt that Tanner’s round had left along the side of his head.

  “How the hell did Tanner get out of that car?”

  “I don’t know,” Tyrese said, “but the man is as hard to kill as everybody says.”

  “Fuck him. We’ll still get him, and I bet his bitch is dead by now, so that will fuck him up.”

  Tyrese sighed. “Did you really have Tanner’s woman murdered?”

  “Shit yeah, by now, Nicholas and two Bloods he has with him will have caught up to her. That’s at least something.”

  “Something? Something?” Tyrese said. “That’s something all right. It gives Tanner a reason to want to kill every Boulevard Blood there is, and the man could do it too. Damn you, Maurice. How could you be so stupid?”

  The instant the words left his mouth Tyrese knew he would pay for them. He braced himself for the blow that would follow, then was surprised when Biggs merely turned his head to glare at him.

  “What did you call me? Did you call me stupid, bitch?”

  Tyrese smiled weakly.

  “Having Tanner’s woman killed was a mistake. That’s all I was saying.”

  “No, bitch, you called me stupid; you’re also telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing. You been telling me that shit since my baby girl died.”

  “I’m sorry, Maurice. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Biggs nodded, then he settled back in his seat again. More than a minute had passed before the first blow was delivered. It was an elbow to the side of Tyrese’s head and it stunned him. Biggs reached under Tyrese’s jacket and stripped him of his gun prior to hitting him again, with a fist.

  Before Tyrese knew it was happening, Biggs was on his knees atop the seat and pummeling him with punches. Tyrese attempted to fight back, but he was barely conscious. His one attempt at throwing a punch struck the rear of the seat.

  When the assault ended, Tyrese’s face was a ruined jumble of broken bones and split skin. He lay on the floor of the Cadillac, unconscious, but still alive.

  Melon Head, who had watched the beating take place via the rear-view mirror was chuckling as he drove along. He never liked Tyrese, and only wished that Biggs would have let him administer the beating.

  “Melon Head, take us over to Staten Island. I’ve got some trash to get rid of.”

  That request made Melon Head’s eyebrows go up. He had thought his boss was just teaching Tyrese a lesson, but maybe not.

  “Is Tyrese the trash?”

  “I’ve had enough of his ass.”

  “Yes sir, sounds good to me,” Melon Head said, as he made a turn and headed for the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.

  66

  The Truth Comes Out

  OUTSI
DE PORTLAND, OREGON, JANUARY 2003

  Cody and Romeo had still been looking for a way out of the Citadel when they heard a commotion come from the area where the conference room was. The guards had finally broken out.

  The boys made it back to their quarters, changed out of their stolen guard uniforms, then waited. When they heard someone approaching, they made noise and pretended to have just broken out of their suite.

  The person approaching was Irina. She was in the company of two guards who were holding weapons at their side.

  “I’m glad to see that you two are all right,” Irina said. “Someone has mur—”

  Irina was about to tell them about Kabell’s murder; one of the guards stopped her by speaking over her. It was O’Keefe, the big man whose rib Cody had broken.

  “These two don’t need to know Citadel business, Irina.”

  Irina became quiet as she realized she’d almost said too much.

  The boys were told to follow along as the guards wanted to escort them to an area where they could be watched over. As they passed Kabell’s suite, Romeo pointed at it.

  “Earlier, we heard Dr. Calavechi arguing with whoever is staying in that room. It sounded serious.”

  Irina traded looks with the guard but said nothing.

  “Why were we locked in the room?” Cody asked.

  “Um, there’s an electrical malfunction,” Irina said.

  Cody spoke to O’Keefe, “Is it being fixed?”

  “We’re working on it,” O’Keefe said.

  * * *

  Outside the main gate, Begley was about to input the code when he heard the heavy locks disengage. He and Serge stepped back and watched as Abadandi and the doctor walked out while holding canvas bags stuffed with goods.

  “Going somewhere?” Begley asked as he took out his gun.

  Abadandi and the doctor jerked their heads around to look at him and Serge. The shock they were feeling at seeing them alive was evident on their faces.

  Abadandi worked up a weak smile. “Jack, Serge, it’s good to see you two have returned. Does this mean you’ve tracked down Ann?”

  “We found Ann, and the man you hired to kill her found us. He’s dead, and Ann is wounded but alive. You’re a piece of work, Abadandi, you know that? How many people have you murdered over the years?”

  “I, I, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack. I’ve never killed anyone in my life.”

  “I have,” Dr. Calavechi said while bringing up the small gun he had slipped out of a side pocket. Begley was swiveling his gun toward him when Serge fired three shots into the doctor’s torso.

  The doctor crumpled to his knees, then collapsed onto his back. His face was rigid, and his eyes bulged from the agony he was feeling.

  “George, oh no, George,” Abadandi moaned, as he watched the life leave his cousin’s body. A moment later and Abadandi was lying beside the doctor with Begley’s boot pressed against the back of his neck.

  “We should kill you too, but you’re still useful,” Begley told him.

  * * *

  It took until the following day to gain entry into the Citadel. Serge had gone off to find a man he knew who was a retired locksmith. Since there had been no supply run and no opportunity to send the money out, Abadandi still had the millions paid to him by Kabell and Romeo.

  Serge’s retired locksmith friend would receive a hefty pile of cash for his help. The man was also recruited to replace the damaged locks within the Citadel. More cash was his for agreeing to remain silent.

  Upon gaining entry, Begley entered the Citadel to find a score of relieved faces looking back at him. Among those present was Irina. She rushed to Begley and kissed him, not caring who knew about them.

  Begley’s first reaction was shock and embarrassment that their relationship was out in the open. Then, he remembered that he had a wife in name only. Ann was gone, never to return to him.

  The guards and the other Citadel residents peppered Begley with questions as they watched him lead a bound and beaten Abadandi along by the elbow. While Serge was off getting the locksmith, Begley had hammered Abadandi with blows as payment for the attempt on his and Ann’s lives.

  When Serge explained what Abadandi and the doctor had been doing for so many years, both men and women cried. Many of the people killed had been their friends. When one of the guards removed his weapon and pointed it at Abadandi’s head, Begley commanded him to stop.

  “He’ll pay for his crimes, but first we need information from him.”

  The guard lowered his arm while speaking. “Make him tell you what he’s done with all the money. I didn’t spend years inside this tomb for nothing.”

  “He’ll talk,” Begley said, as he stared at Abadandi with eyes of ice. “I promise you he’ll talk.”

  * * *

  Begley had told the truth, and it didn’t take much to make Abadandi spill all he knew. While strapped to a gurney, Abadandi confessed his crimes and gave up his secrets. The man had banked over forty million dollars, some of which belonged to the Citadel’s current employees.

  When Begley was certain he had gotten everything of value from the man, he stood over him and pressed his gun to Abadandi’s head.

  “The Citadel is mine now,” Begley told him, then he pulled the trigger, ending Abadandi’s life, and his reign.

  67

  Under New Management

  STATEN ISLAND, OCTOBER 2018

  Tyrese Vann felt himself being dragged along the ground as he regained consciousness. He could see through only one eye as the left one had swollen shut and his nose and a cheek bone were broken. Blood was caking on his chin and coated the inside of his mouth, where the jagged ends of two broken teeth irritated his tongue.

  Melon Head was dragging him by the ankles as Maurice Biggs walked along beside him. When Tyrese brought a hand up he felt the empty holster, then wondered if Maurice planned to kill him with his own gun.

  He still had one weapon on him. It was a knife, a stiletto that he wore strapped to the inside of his left forearm. People thought he always wore long sleeves to hide the burn scars, but no, he wore them to keep the thin blade hidden.

  A sharp pain at the base of his spine was followed by a whack to the back of the head as he was dragged over something hard. A soft moan escaped, even though he had fought to keep it in. Biggs turned his head and smiled down at him.

  “You awake? Good. I want you to see it coming.”

  “Please, Maurice… don’t kill me.”

  Biggs laughed and turned away from him.

  Tyrese freed the stiletto from its sheath and held it out of view along the side of his body.

  “This is far enough, Melon Head,” Biggs said. “Now it’s time to kill his punk ass.”

  Tyrese gripped the knife tighter as they stopped moving, then watched as Biggs pulled a gun from beneath his jacket.

  * * *

  STATEN ISLAND, AN HOUR LATER

  Tanner circled the scene twice while searching for signs that it was somehow a trap. He decided that the tableau was exactly what it looked like.

  He approached Tyrese while holding a gun at his side and winced when he got a close-up look at the man’s face.

  “Did Biggs do that to you?”

  “He jumped me in the back of the car,” Tyrese said. Because of the damage to his face, his words were slurred and had a nasal quality. To be understood, he had to enunciate carefully.

  “Well, he won’t be hitting you again.”

  “No, he will not,” Tyrese said.

  The two of them were staring down at the bodies of Maurice Biggs and Melon Head.

  * * *

  After freeing his knife, Tyrese had jammed the stiletto deep into Biggs’s crotch, then had sliced open the man’s throat. He had guessed right that Biggs planned to kill him with his own gun. After Biggs had dropped the weapon, Tyrese grabbed it up and opened fire on Melon Head. The large cranium didn’t look quite as big with two huge exit wounds at its rear.

&n
bsp; After Biggs had fallen and lay on the ground with his life leaking out of him, Tyrese had leaned over and spoken to him.

  “You’re not only stupid, but now your ass is dead.”

  Biggs had gazed back at him with fearful eyes as he knew Tyrese spoke the truth. He was dying. The fear left those normally stoic eyes along with the life that had animated them.

  After digging Biggs’s phone from his pocket. Tyrese made a call to Nicholas, to see if he could stop the attack on Sara. When there was no answer, Tyrese wondered what it meant. Afterward, he called Tanner and learned that Nicholas was dead.

  * * *

  “Does this mean you’re in charge of the Boulevard Bloods now?”

  “Fuck yeah, but before I let people know about Maurice I’ll have to kill a couple of his people, along with that punk, Trigger. Since he’s Maurice’s cousin, he might try to kill me.”

  “He might also go after James for shooting him. If you kill him, you’ll be saving me the trouble of doing it myself.”

  “James and his mother don’t have to worry about shit. I sure as hell don’t give a damn about them.”

  “Then I have no reason to attack your gang either.”

  Tyrese mustered up a smile. “My gang? I like the sound of that.”

  “Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours,” Tanner told him.

  After they walked to the Cadillac and Tyrese climbed behind the wheel. He asked Tanner a question.

  “How the hell did you get out of that car earlier?”

  “A magician never reveals his tricks.”

  “You tricky all right, and one badass mutha.”

  Tanner began walking back to his own vehicle, as he did so, he gave Tyrese some advice.