Young Guns Box Set

by Kane, Remington

  “Some serious shit went down here during the kidnappings,” Romeo said.

  “It makes me wonder if Mrs. Cromwell’s husband and grandson were murdered here. If so, the cops might be able to determine that.”

  “I say we set up an observation post somewhere outside instead of in here. I don’t like this place.”

  “We also don’t want to take a chance of leaving our DNA around,” Cody said. “So yeah, we’ll move outside.”

  They did just that, among a grouping of trees. Three days later, while standing in the rain, they decided that Morrison wasn’t coming. He either sensed a trap or was willing to let any survivors from the cell group twist in the wind. After leaving the house for the final time, Cody made an anonymous call to the police while speaking in an English accent.

  * * *

  OXFORD, ENGLAND, SEPTEMBER 2003

  Garth Livingston was reeling from the loss of his compound and the personnel who had been involved with it. That included the members of his first cell. In all, he had lost thirty-six people. Using the bombs would have brought in much more money than the kidnappings had, while expending less effort.

  He wondered who was behind the attack on his compound and briefly considered that it might have been the British government.

  He soon discarded that idea. No, the authorities weren’t efficient enough for such actions. Besides, they had their games to play and their departments to feed. The police or one of a number of agencies would have combined to raid the compound. Afterward, the media would have gotten to report on how the arrests were handled, or bungled. Then would come the legal side of things, the courts, barristers, and finally, the jailers would be fed fresh meat to dine on.

  No, the simple elimination of an enemy was not the government’s way. That meant that someone was personally targeting Green Wrath. Livingston assumed it was the oil industry.

  Garth Livingston brushed back his sandy hair and picked up his phone. He was staying at a cottage in the countryside under an assumed name. With him were three of his most loyal people. The home had been rented from a university professor who was traveling while on a sabbatical. The woman wouldn’t be back in England for another month, but Livingston sensed that it was time to move on.

  After calling an aide and telling him to prepare a new place to live, Livingston made another call to a man named Morrison. When the call was answered, Livingston thought he would have to repeat the same words he had told everyone he had spoken to since the attack on the compound.

  “No, as yet, I have no idea who was behind it. Yes, we will find out and kill them.”

  That wasn’t the case. Instead, Morrison relayed new information about who had attacked them.

  “Two young Americans? Is that what he said?”

  “The man’s name was Geoffrey Harper. He was the guard on the gate that night. He’s dead now, but before he died, Harper told the police that two Americans in their twenties set off the bombs. One man was blond, the other had dark hair.”

  “Good work, Morrison. I see the bribe money you spread around Scotland Yard isn’t going to waste. I’m more convinced than ever that the oil companies are behind the attack.”

  “Sir, should I begin rebuilding the bombmaking project?”

  “No, I think we’ll return to the tried and true. The target we had chosen for our next kidnapping. Is he still a viable option?”

  “We’ve been keeping track of him as you ordered. Bruce Hart remains a good candidate and was recently promoted. His abduction will make headlines. On a side note, our source inside the oil company says that Hart will be traveling here to England with his wife and stepdaughter in a fortnight.”

  “Was he transferred back here?”

  “No, they’ll be here on holiday to visit family.”

  “That certainly makes things simpler for us on this end, foreign contractors are unreliable; I’d rather use our own people. Follow through with his abduction once the man returns to London. After the losses we’ve suffered, we’ll need to fill the coffers again, a good ransom will fit the bill. And make sure you grab the daughter as well. She’s a beauty that one; she’ll make good Press fodder.”

  “I’ll have them grabbed within a day or two of their arrival. I’ll need the time to locate a suitable hideaway first.”

  “A new hideaway? Why not use the current one?”

  “It was compromised. One of the people at the compound must have told someone about it. The police received an anonymous tip. There are forensic teams combing over it now.”

  “Will they find anything?”

  “If they do, it will only lead back to several of our people who were killed at the compound.”

  “That’s some good news.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why not use that old cottage in Norfolk, the one near Thetford? I haven’t gone there in years.”

  “Ah, yes, that would make a good hideaway. I will use it.”

  “Call me when the kidnapping is done, and Morrison?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Watch your back, mate. Someone is out to get us.”

  “You do the same, sir.”

  Livingston ended the call and opened his laptop. After finding the file, he looked at the photos taken of Bruce Hart and his family. The stepdaughter was as beautiful as he remembered her being. As he traced a finger over her face, Livingston chuckled.

  The boys guarding her will likely tear a piece off for themselves. Serves her right, the spoiled bitch.

  Livingston hated the rich, although, he himself was now in their class, at least financially speaking. He kept a fat percentage of every dollar Green Wrath extorted or stole.

  He had no interest in environmental causes, much less a radical and fervent one. No, Green Wrath was just one more con in a life filled with confidence games. He had used the organization to gain power and wealth. The rank and file in the organization were fools as far as Livingston was concerned.

  While he agreed that the environment was deteriorating due to heavy industry and the practices of the large oil companies, Livingston didn’t care. There were still plenty of unspoiled spots in the world where a man with enough money could live like a king, and so he was content.

  Why the hell should he care if the world eventually became a cesspool? He would be dead and gone by the time that day arrived.

  Livingston had instigated the kidnappings and the extortion of industry with a number in mind. It would be enough to ensure he never wanted for anything for the rest of his life. And he was close, so close to reaching that number. Two, maybe three more kidnapping ransoms would get him there.

  The truth is, he had reached that magic number twice before and raised it to a new level. The lure of greater wealth seduced him to keep pressing his luck.

  In any event, the bombs would have helped him reach his new goal quicker, as they could have been sold on the black market as well.

  Again, Livingston wondered who was targeting him, and an idea crossed his mind. Kay Reed, the journalist who had written the book about Green Wrath, some instinct told Livingston that she would have knowledge of who was behind the attacks.

  She had savaged him in that book of hers. She had documented his past and exposed him as the con artist he was. There had been animosity spawned for the group among the public, where before there was disinterest. That former indifference was there because Green Wrath only targeted the rich and those of a high corporate class. The average person didn’t give a damn what happened to the rich. If a little pain and grief came their way, so much the better.

  That damn book changed that opinion as Kay Reed had humanized the victims and demonized the group. Recruitment had been down considerably since the book’s publication.

  The year 2003 had been a tough one for Livingston. He had been seeing one of the female members of Green Wrath and had surprised himself by having genuine feelings for the woman, who was much younger than him. Her name had been Clarisa, and she had been a true believer i
n the cause. Despite that, Livingston had grown to love her.

  Unfortunately, when Clarisa was picked up on an old felony charge and facing a sentence of ten years, Livingston had a decision to make. He could risk Clarisa making a deal with the authorities by telling everything she knew about him and Green Wrath, or he could have her knifed in her jail cell. Livingston chose to have her killed. He consoled himself with the thought that Clarisa would have been a very different woman after spending ten years behind bars, and older, much older. Whenever he remembered that, it made the guilt of killing her subside.

  And then, there was the Citadel. The Citadel had been in Livingston’s plans ever since he received an invitation from the famed fortress through a series of channels. When he had accumulated enough funds, Livingston had planned to head to America, enter the Citadel, and disappear into a new life with a new face.

  That changed when those photos showed up on the web, photos that displayed the murdered cult leader Kabell. Kabell had been killed inside the Citadel by a pair of assassins. They not only made it inside and killed their target, but they also escaped and were able to brag about it.

  After learning of that, Livingston decided the Citadel was useless. He’d yet to make up a new exit plan and needed to get on that, because soon, very soon, he would have all the money he’d ever need. The kidnapping of Bruce Hart and his lovely stepdaughter would be the next step in attaining that.

  Livingston picked up the photo of Emma Hart and admired her beauty again. Emma Hart, who was Romeo’s first love, and a woman he still cared deeply about.

  83

  A Familiar Face

  THE BOUDREAUX FARM, LOUISIANA, JANUARY 2019

  A lone motorcycle wound its way down the driveway of the Boudreaux home and came to a stop near the garage. Tanner and Kendra had been in the house, having just finished lunch. They walked outside to greet the uninvited guest.

  Kendra carried her shotgun while Tanner was wearing a gun in a holster on his hip. When the biker killed his engine and removed his helmet, Tanner found him to be familiar.

  He was about Tanner’s height but carried more muscle. He was also a few years younger. The beard was as bushy as the ones worn by the other Dixie Devils, but the club vest he had on was red and not black. Tanner wondered if it was a sign of some sort of rank within the motorcycle club. When he took notice of the man’s alligator boots, Tanner understood who he was looking at.

  Gator, Tanner thought. He had met the man sixteen years earlier in Oregon during the time that he and Romeo breached the Citadel. Gator and his fellow biker Flash had been instrumental in that success.

  Tanner was wondering if the man would remember him. At the time, he was going by the name of Xavier Zane. They had only met once, at night, and for only a few minutes. Gator’s first words answered Tanner’s question.

  “You call yourself Tanner now, but I used to know you by another name, one I can’t recall.”

  “Hello, Gator, what brings you by?”

  “Two of my men said that they had a run-in with a security guard here, and they were both marked up pretty good. They also said they kicked your ass, but I knew they were lying. I wanted to see who the dude was that could beat the crap out of two Dixie Devils.”

  Kendra pointed at Gator. “That’s the man that threatened me. You know him, Tanner?”

  “We had business a long time ago.”

  “The Citadel,” Gator said. “Hey, do you know that place is still running. I know a guy that got an invite.”

  Tanner had known that. The man who ran the Citadel, Jack Begley, had succeeded in resurrecting the infamous refuge and restoring its reputation as a safe haven. Rectifying that was on Tanner’s list of things to do.

  Tanner pointed at the ground. “The Boudreaux farm is off-limits, Gator. Tell that to whoever you’re working for.”

  Gator grinned. “You think you’re a badass now, don’t you? And yeah, I know you took down a cartel leader and some other heavy shit but that don’t matter to me. I lead the club now and I’ve got over twenty guys here and there are hundreds more of us in other chapters. If we wanted to, we could wipe this farm off the map.”

  Tanner nodded. “It figures that you’d want to do things the hard way.”

  Gator looked at Kendra. “Take your boy and leave; this is your final warning.”

  Kendra raised the shotgun and pointed it at Gator. “Get off my land.”

  Gator smiled at her. “You got guts, bitch, I’ll give you that.” He returned his gaze to Tanner. “When you see me again, I won’t be alone, then we’ll see what a badass you are.”

  “The lady told you to leave, Gator.”

  “Oh, I’m leaving, and I’ll be back too.”

  The engine on the motorcycle roared to life. After putting on his helmet, Gator rode away while handling the curves of the driveway at a high rate of speed.

  “What time does Jake get home from school?” Tanner asked.

  “Around three, why?”

  “We’ll need his help getting things ready around here. When Gator comes back, he’ll bring a lot of men with him.”

  “How do we prepare for something like that?”

  “We’ll have to outsmart them.”

  “From what I’ve seen of that bunch, it shouldn’t be hard.”

  Tanner smiled at Kendra.

  “The way you’re fighting back instead of giving in would make your grandfather proud of you.”

  “I may not be a Tanner, but I am a Boudreaux, we don’t give in.”

  Tanner headed for the barn. “It’s time to get to work.”

  84

  First Love

  LONDON, ENGLAND, SEPTEMBER 2003

  Cody and Romeo went to Eddie Quinton’s flat and found the place alive with people in a partying mood. The boys were also in a festive frame of mind and were allowing themselves an evening off from their usual disciplined regimen.

  They normally drank sparingly and ate little junk food but were laying aside that rule to indulge in what the party had to offer. That did not include the cocaine and other serious drugs that were making the rounds. Romeo did smoke a little weed, and even Cody took a toke off a cigar-sized joint that a beautiful blonde had passed to him.

  Cody had designs on that blonde, who was a statuesque beauty. She seemed agreeable to those plans, as she touched him often and leaned against him on a sofa. Cody had been about to solidify those plans by asking the blonde if she would like to see his place across the hall. However, before he could ask, he turned his head and saw, her.

  She was Asian, and her raven hair hung down to her waist. She had been looking at Cody before he’d noticed her. Her expression had been blank, but when their eyes met, her mouth parted slightly, and she took a step in his direction. A moment later and the crowd between them shifted, blocking their view of each other.

  The blonde forgotten, Cody rose from the sofa and made his way over to where the exotic beauty was standing. She was wearing a red dress that fit her petite body well, and her large dark eyes drank Cody in as a smile spread across her face.

  They simply stared at each other as the party swirled around them. It was a raucous gathering and the music and voices were loud, but all Cody heard was the wild beating of his heart as he stared into the eyes of the vision before him. Emerging from his trance, he spoke.

  “Hi, I’m Xavier.”

  “I’m May Ling.” She said, and there was just the hint of a Japanese accent.

  “Are you a friend of Eddie’s?”

  May Ling moved closer as she answered. “I don’t know Eddie. I came here with a friend.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No, a woman, but I think she must have left the party without me.”

  “I could keep you company,” Cody said.

  May Ling smiled. “I would like that.”

  * * *

  The two spent the evening talking in a corner of the large living room. Cody laughed often, and May Ling was surprised to find that he
had a rudimentary understanding of Japanese. When he told her that he had spent time there during the prior year, they both discovered that they shared a love of languages and travel.

  May Ling spoke Japanese, English, French, Russian, and a smattering of German. She told Cody she was a child of wealthy parents who had both died in a plane crash six years earlier when she was only fourteen. Also on board the small private jet was May Ling’s six-year-old brother. Like Cody, she had lost her entire family.

  May Ling said she had traveled to England simply because she had never been there and wanted to see more of the world. She was a recent college graduate with the means to do anything she desired. What she had wanted most was to get away and find adventure. Instead, she had found love.

  Romeo came over to talk once and was introduced to May Ling. He had been with a woman named Sherry who he later took back to his room in the condo he shared with Cody.

  Cody never noticed Romeo leaving. He was lost in May Ling and the two of them were startled when a glance out at the balcony revealed the sun coming up.

  Everyone else at the party had either left or were sprawled on the sofas or the floor sleeping off booze. Eddie Quinton, the host, was in his bedroom with twins who were fans of his. He had done a two-year stint on a soap opera when he was in his late-teens. The beautiful blonde twins thought of him as the character he had played, which was a rock star on the rise. The ever-happy Eddie was even happier than usual with the twins sharing his bed.

  “The night just disappeared,” May Ling said, and Cody agreed.

  He escorted her to her hotel in a taxi, and that was when they shared their first kiss. Upon arrival, Cody had hoped to be taken up to her suite, but while they were in the lobby, May Ling said that would be moving too fast for her.