Soulless (A Tanner Novel Book 43)

by Remington Kane

  Faster Than The Eye Can Blink

  Soulless, Gwen, and Elliot left the resort two days after the tanks exploded. They were headed to the marina to claim Gwen’s boat. It was nighttime and the trip would be a short one. Gwen had been on the boat a week earlier, to make certain the batteries were charged, and that the boat was seaworthy.

  Gwen had wanted to dress up in the disguises, but Soulless said no. They were leaving the resort and wouldn’t be seen by any of the staff. If they were stopped by the police, Soulless said he would kill them.

  Elliot was worried. He feared he would be executed, and his body dumped into the ocean once Soulless believed he was safe. Actually, Soulless had a different fate in store for him.

  Even seen from a distance and at night, Elliot could tell that the boat was a beauty and larger than he had been imagining. It was a sailboat, but Gwen said it also had two outboard motors. Elliot knew little about boats, except that they were expensive. He asked Gwen about it.

  “I took it as payment from a client. It’s twenty years old, but it cost more than half a million euros when it was new.”

  “That must have been one big bomb you made for them,” Elliot said.

  “Actually, it was twenty small bombs that packed a big wallop. They each had to be able to fit inside a kid’s lunchbox.”

  Elliot made a face of disgust. “A child’s lunchbox? Were they detonated inside a school?”

  Gwen shrugged. “I don’t know or care. I make the bombs. What my customers do with them is their business.”

  Elliot stared at her, marveling at how disgusting she was to him now, when previously, she had seemed so desirable.

  They arrived at the marina and drove through the parking lot, looking for signs that the authorities knew about the boat and had set a trap. There were two cars parked in the lot. One was a classic muscle car painted purple, and the other was an old beater. Neither vehicle looked like anything a cop would drive.

  Soulless stuck his gun in the waistband at the front of his pants where he could get to it easily. He kept his hands empty and had Elliot carrying most of the luggage, while Gwen carried two small bags.

  They had moved past the closed dockmaster’s office and were headed toward the boathouse where repair work was done, and where Franco and his friends were keeping watch over the marina. Soulless stopped walking and looked back at the dockmaster’s office. He thought he’d heard a sound come from there. He’d been right, the boy Nario was hidden in the shadows and filming them.

  Franco and the others had spotted the van moving through the parking lot and got into position to attack. Gwen saw them first and called to Soulless.

  “We’ve got company.”

  Soulless had still been staring back at the dockmaster’s office, he had caught the glint of light off the lens of Nario’s camera. He wondered if it was a rifle scope or something harmless, like the reflection off a window. When he turned and saw the three thugs approaching, he understood the threat was in front of him.

  Franco smiled as he sauntered toward Soulless while holding the gun he’d been given by Nario. The weapon was an old .38 revolver and loaded with six rounds of death.

  Soulless was supposed to be this big-time paid assassin who had cops all over the world looking for him. All Franco saw was a guy limping along who looked like he’d have trouble lifting his own weight. Franco could bench press twice his bodyweight, didn’t have a limp, and was holding a gun. Any trepidation he felt about going up against Soulless vanished.

  The other man was as tall as Soulless but nerdy-looking. He also had his hands full. As for the woman, Gwen, Franco still thought she was hot, and he wondered if she recognized him. He hoped so, and that she was sorry she had turned him down at the bar.

  “What do you men want?” Soulless said in English.

  Franco understood the language and answered.

  “We want you, Soulless. You’re worth money to us.”

  “Walk away now and maybe I’ll let you live.”

  Franco laughed, then he translated the conversation for Matteo and Lorenzo.

  “He’s going to let us live?” Matteo said in Italian. “The man’s crazy.”

  Franco nodded and spoke to Soulless. “I see you have a gun tucked in your belt. Take it out slow and—”

  Soulless took the gun out, but he did not do it slowly. He whipped out the gun and shot Franco in the chest three times. His movements were no more than a blur, giving Franco no warning and zero opportunity to raise his gun and fire back. Franco dropped onto the dock, and the revolver he was holding bounced on the boards and fell into the water.

  Matteo and Lorenzo stared down at their dying friend, then back at Soulless. Matteo was holding an old and rusted golf club, while Lorenzo was wielding an iron bar. They dropped the weapons and raised their hands over their heads. Soulless shot them both twice, and they fell beside Franco.

  Lights were coming on in several boats around the marina, although few people lived there full time. Soulless told Elliot to get on the boat and untie the lines as they stepped around the dying thugs. Gwen got the engines going and they left the marina.

  Cowering in the shadows of the dockmaster’s office, Nario knew he had just filmed his friends’ murders.

  Durand called Tanner with news as he and Henry were finishing a late dinner in their hotel’s dining room. What was left of the phone that contained the photos of Soulless and Gwen had been recovered at the scene of the tanker explosions. It turned out that it belonged to a woman who had been dead for years.

  “Her name was Melissa Lipson. She lived in Toms River, New Jersey. We checked with the New Jersey police and they say that Mrs. Lipson’s son, Elliot, hasn’t been seen by his neighbors in weeks and that his mailbox looks like no one has emptied it in a while. I’m waiting for word back from the American state department. They’ll be able to confirm if he used his passport to leave the United States and fly to Italy. I’ll send a photo of Elliot Lipson to your phone after I hang up.”

  “I’ve heard of Elliot from a woman named Dana. Elliot Lipson is a regular poster of a forum that discusses assassins. He’s said to be a fan of mine. I ran into a fan of Soulless’s in Ohio about two months ago. It’s possible that Elliot was there and got mixed up with Soulless and Gwen.”

  “He must be the one who took the photos and left the note with the phone. That means we’re looking for three people, not two.”

  “There’s something else. Dana said Elliot was a retired nurse. The last time I saw him, Soulless was definitely in need of medical care. That would explain why Soulless kidnapped the man.”

  “Is he kidnapped, or an accomplice?”

  “No matter how it might have been in the beginning, Elliot wants out now, or he wouldn’t have taken those photos and left the note.”

  “That’s true enough. This is a big break, Tanner. We have people showing Elliot Lipson’s photo around.”

  “If you make this public, Soulless might kill the man. Elliot will be useless to them if they know the cops are looking for him.”

  “Not public, no. We’re just asking around quietly and hoping someone recognizes him.”

  “Keep in touch, Jacques. In the meantime, Henry and I will be doing our own searching. We probably won’t spot them, but it’s better than sitting around.”

  “I hope to have more for you soon in order to narrow the search. I’ll send you that photo of Elliot.”

  The call ended, and a minute later, Tanner’s phone chimed. He had received the photo.

  Henry looked at Elliot’s likeness, and the height, weight, hair and eye color listed below it. “Maybe someone will remember him, although nothing about him stands out.”

  “It’s been almost two months since Soulless was injured. He should have healed already, which means he no longer needs a nurse. Elliot Lipson is living on borrowed time.”

  Elliot had come to the same conclusion as Tanner. But apparently, he still had worth to Soulless, mostly as cheap labor. E
lliot was put to work cleaning the boat as soon as they were under way. Gwen piloted the craft, and Soulless’s job seemed to be that of issuing threats and giving orders.

  “Since there is only one bed below, we’ll handcuff you up here to the railing, nurse. But don’t worry, we’ll leave you a blanket.”

  “You’re too kind,” Elliot said, and regretted it as Soulless limped over to him and slammed a fist against his stomach. Elliot felt like he’d been hit in the gut with a brick.

  “Don’t talk back to me, or maybe I’ll toss you overboard.”

  Elliot wheezed out the words, “I’m sorry.”

  Gwen called over to them from the helm. “I’m hungry and I could go for a drink. Go down into the galley and fix us something, Elliot, from the food we brought along.”

  Elliot was tempted to say the words, “Yes, madam,” then thought better of it in case Soulless took offense. He went below while thinking about how much he hated Soulless. But then he smiled. The word was out that Soulless was in Italy. That meant Tanner knew where to find him.

  Tanner will come, thought Elliot. And it will be a pleasure to watch Soulless die.

  Tanner and Henry called home after returning to Tanner’s room, then sat down to talk and try to figure out how their time could best be spent the next day. Without knowing where Soulless was, there wasn’t much they could do but to take guesses of where to search. No one knew Soulless’s true name or whether he had any family he was close to. The same was true for the woman calling herself Gwen.

  After Henry left to go to his own room, Tanner put on the TV. The news was on, and one of the stories caught his attention. Three men had been killed in a port city with a gun. Compared to the United States, gun violence was rare in Italy, so the story was given attention by the media.

  There was video of the shootings recorded by a security camera, although the quality was grainy, and it hadn’t captured the men being fired upon. What it did catch was the killer from a view above and behind him. Tanner, who had been leaning back on the sofa, sat up when he saw how fast the man was with a gun. He too was fast with a gun, exceptionally fast, and so was Soulless.

  The TV had a DVR feature, and he was able to rewind the scene. The more he watched it, the surer he became that he was looking at Soulless. He let the story continue and listened to the rest of what the reporter had to say.

  “The police are reporting that the gunman was traveling with a woman and another man. People at the marina say they left the scene on a boat. In other news, the price of oil has increased dramatically as—”

  Tanner turned off the television and called Jacques Durand. The Frenchman was still awake. When Tanner told him about the shooting, Durand said he would look into it, and that it sounded as if Tanner might be right.

  After getting off the phone with Durand, Tanner left his room and knocked on Henry’s door. Henry answered wearing boxer briefs and asked what was up.

  Tanner told him about the news report he’d seen concerning the shooting at the marina. Henry was excited by the news.

  “Durand’s people should be able to identify the boat.”

  “Yeah, but finding it will be another matter. The Mediterranean is huge.”

  “We need to get there and ask around. Maybe someone can verify that it was them.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Tanner said. “We can be there by morning if we left soon. It’s probably an eight or nine hour drive.”

  “I’d rather be on the move than sleeping. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

  “I’ll meet you at the car. We’ll take turns driving and get at least a little sleep.”

  Twenty minutes later they were on the road and headed south.

  “I guess you know about boats, hmm?” Henry asked.

  “I can drive one, although it’s been a long time since I’ve done it.”

  “A friend of mine in Pennsylvania had a boat, or his stepdad did. The guy taught us how to drive it, and man was it fast. We were only out on a lake and not an ocean, but I loved it.”

  “You may get your chance to drive a boat again. We’ll probably need one to catch up to Soulless.”

  “I hope it happens soon. I’d really like a chance to go see Makayla.”

  Tanner took his eyes off the road to look over at his apprentice. “You can do that at any time, Henry. You don’t need to stay with me.”

  “Yeah, I do. Soulless is dangerous. I know you’re more dangerous, but I can help you. Besides, this is like a contract. And a Tanner never fails to fulfill a contract.”

  “That’s right. Have you tried calling Makayla?”

  “Yeah, but the number I have is no good anymore. I guess I’ll just surprise her and show up, or the surprise will be on me and she and her family have moved away from the address I have for them.”

  “We’re closing in on Soulless. He was stupid to kill those men at the marina. If he had talked his way out of it, or even hurt them and left them alive, the story wouldn’t have made the news and we wouldn’t know where he’s been. Jacques also said the ballistic report on the slugs proved the men at the marina were killed with one of the guns that had been taken off two dead cops Soulless had killed. If he keeps making mistakes like that, we’ll find Soulless sooner rather than later.”

  Henry slid down in his seat and closed his eyes. “Wake me at the halfway point and I’ll take over.”

  “Right,” Tanner said. He drove on, getting closer to the place where Soulless had been, and glad to be on the move.

  24

  Club Thug

  Nario’s Uncle Marcello owned a private club. It was nothing fancy. It had been a regular bar until he’d extorted the owner out of it and made it members only. The members were Marcello’s people: pimps, drug dealers, pickpockets, loan sharks, car thieves, burglars, and just plain thugs. The fee to join the club was a cut of everything they earned. As for the thugs, they hurt whomever Marcello told them to hurt without asking why. Such men were not hard to find and worked for modest compensation, but they tended to live short lives or wound up serving many of their best years behind bars.

  If you were a thief and you didn’t join the club, you would wish you had when Marcello sent some of his thugs around to visit you. Three such thugs had been Franco, Matteo, and Lorenzo, who were now dead.

  Like Tanner, Marcello had seen the video of them getting shot on the news. Now he was learning that his nephew had been there to see it in person. Nario had also filmed it.

  Marcello had noticed his camera was missing, then checked and found that his revolver was gone. When he asked Nario about it, the boy had begun crying, then he told Marcello the whole story and showed him the video he had filmed. It had much more detail than the one shown on the news and included sound. The voices were difficult to make out, but not the gunshots. Marcello thought the dumbfounded look on Franco’s face when he got shot was priceless. The stupid fool always thought too much of himself, and his cockiness had finally caught up with him.

  Nario and Marcello were in the office inside the club. Marcello was on one side of a desk, and Nario on the other. Marcello looked nothing like his nephew, his sister’s boy. He was tall, thickly built, and had thinning dark hair.

  Marcello was angry at his nephew, but also grateful he was alive. He decided to let the boy work off the loss of his gun. If he’d been anyone but family and had stolen from him, Nario would be beaten until he couldn’t walk or killed and dropped into the sea.

  “Are you sure the man is Soulless?”

  Nario nodded. “He looked like the picture they’re showing on the news. And when Franco called him that, he didn’t say he wasn’t. The lady looked like her picture too.”

  “What about the other guy?”

  “I don’t know who he is,” Nario said.

  Marcello sat back in his office chair. It was announced that morning that the reward for Soulless had been increased. Marcello wanted that money. He owed Soulless as well. The man had killed three of his pe
ople. There was talk that someone was making a move on his territory. Soulless or not, Marcello couldn’t simply sit back and do nothing. People would think he was getting weak.

  “I’m going to put the word out for this boat of theirs, the Bombs Away, but I won’t tell anyone that it’s Soulless I’m looking for, or they might try to claim the reward for themselves. Instead, I’ll offer a smaller reward for finding them.”

  “Are you going to kill them?”

  “Yes. The man killed my people. Assassin or not, I can’t let him get away with it, and the cops will still give me the reward.”

  “Be careful, Uncle. The man is fast, so fast.”

  Marcello smiled. “Do not worry. I have something deadlier than a gun to throw at that bastard.”

  Nario looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Hell yes, and I’m going to work you to death for losing my gun.”

  “What sort of work?”

  “You’ll work here, starting tonight. You can help out in the kitchen, wash dishes, take out trash, that sort of shit.”

  “Okay,” Nario said. He didn’t care what he had to do; he was just glad to be alive. There weren’t many people who had been near Soulless and could say that. Not when Soulless had a gun in his hand.

  After arriving in the area where the shooting had occurred, Tanner and Henry spent the following morning and afternoon visiting hotels and showing photos of Soulless, Gwen, and Elliot to the employees.

  Many of them said they had already been asked about Soulless and Gwen, and that no, they hadn’t seen them. In the afternoon, they wound up at the resort where Soulless had stayed. A young maid shook her head at the photos of Soulless and Gwen, but she nodded when shown the photo of Elliot.

  “Yes, he was here.”

  “Was he with anyone?” Tanner asked.

  The woman nodded distractedly. She was staring at Henry and smiling. Henry smiled back at her. She had long hair that was tied up in a bun, and the loose-fitting maid’s uniform she wore couldn’t disguise the shapely body beneath it.