Young Guns Box Set - Books 1-4: A Tanner Series (Young Gun Box Sets)

by Remington Kane

  RUN! THERE’S A NEW GANG IN TOWN AND THEY’RE KILLING OUR PEOPLE. THEY’VE KILLED TWO STREET DEALERS AND ALMOST GOT ME. THE FACTORY IS NOT SAFE. THEY PLAN TO BURN IT DOWN AND KILL YOU AND YOUR MEN. GET OUT OF THERE AND WARN DARYL MCCALL THAT WE HAVE BIG TROUBLE. GO NOW. THEY ARE COMING TO KILL YOU AND THEY TIPPED OFF THE FEDS ABOUT THE LAB.

  After turning off, Beck’s phone, Tanner made a call to a 9-1-1 operator on one of the burner phones he had.

  “There’s a huge fire at Gotham Stoneware, outside Glendale. Hurry, there’s so much smoke.”

  Tanner ended the call and turned off his phone before the operator could ask a question.

  A gently sloping hill bordered the right side of the factory driveway. Tanner climbed it, found a good line of sight by a tree, then took out his gun and waited. From where he stood, he could see a stream of dark smoke rising into the air from the vicinity of the loading dock.

  As he heard the faint sound of fire engine sirens off in the distance, Tanner thought that maybe his plan had failed. The thought left his mind as Keith Brown’s Rolls Royce came around the curb moving swiftly. After sighting in on the bodyguard in the passenger seat, Tanner fired two rounds. The bullets failed to shatter the side window, and Tanner guessed that Brown had the car armored and the windows bullet-proofed.

  In any event, the sound of the shots and the marks on the window caused the car to accelerate, Tanner fired one last shot, which ricocheted off the rear window. Having received the text from Beck’s phone, seeing smoke in the factory, and survived being shot at, Keith Brown would be convinced that a rival gang was moving in to take over.

  He would flee to join up with his boss and old friend, Daryl McCall, and thanks to the tracking device, Tanner would be right behind him.

  9

  Kicks And Cash

  ARIZONA, MARCH 1998

  Cody and Romeo were walked at gunpoint out to a shed that neither of them had noticed before. Their wrists were chained behind their backs and secured with padlocks. Their captors, Gina, McKenna, and the pickup driver, kept laughing as they herded the boys toward the shed.

  “What the hell is this about?” Romeo asked. “Are you dudes stealing our ride?”

  The bearded pickup driver, who Cody had heard referred to as Victor, answered.

  “We’re taking your ride, your money, all your shit, and hell, we’re even taking your dignity. Gina’s my girl, Blondie. It’s hilarious to think she’d screw a little peckerhead like you.”

  “I still don’t get it,” Cody said. “You could have robbed us the second we walked in the motel office. Why the act?”

  Gina giggled as she moved up beside him.

  “It’s how we get our kicks, by playing games, and I just love seeing your faces when you horny little assholes realize you’ve been fooled. Romeo there was at full mast when McKenna came in and pointed a gun in his face. After that, he went limp in more ways than one.”

  Romeo shouted at her. “You’re fucked up, Gina. You know that?”

  Gina stepped in front of Cody to move closer to Romeo, and Cody leapt at her and drove her backwards to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of the girl, but Cody had managed to make her drop her weapon.

  Romeo dived for the gun, but with his hands chained behind his back, it took him too long to get a hold on it. His fingers had just touched the gun’s grip when McKenna grabbed him by the hair and yanked him away, to grab the gun first.

  Meanwhile, Victor had shoved Cody off Gina, then proceeded to kick him. He landed several hard blows to Cody’s ribs and stomach before McKenna shouted at him to stop.

  “No more, Victor! Remember what happened to that kid we grabbed down in Texas?”

  Victor was breathing hard as he answered.

  “That kid was a mistake. Who knew the little asshole couldn’t take a punch?”

  “Still, man. I ain’t letting you turn us into serial killers.”

  Gina stood, and sent a kick of her own at Cody. It landed on his chest and he grunted.

  “That asshole tried to bite me in the face,” she said.

  Romeo stared over at his friend with worry in his eyes.

  “Yo, Xavier, hey man, you okay?”

  Cody nodded, then moaned from the pain caused by Victor’s blows.

  After that, all trace of humor left their captors, and they were marched to the door of the shed in silence.

  Voices came from inside the small structure, as chains were placed around Cody and Romeo’s ankles. Then, the door was opened, and they were shoved inside, where they found that they were not the gang’s first victims.

  There were four other boys in the shed, three of them looked to be in their late teens, but a black kid looked years younger. He was short, skinny, but appeared more angry than frightened.

  “You ladies get to know each other while we go out and find more suckers,” Victor said.

  The black kid stepped forward. He had to take small, careful steps because his ankles were chained together.

  “We need food and water. Especially Charlie and Alejandro, they’ve been here the longest.”

  “You’ll get some water when we feel like giving it to you, but no food. Food cost money.”

  The black kid stared up at Victor with a look of disgust.

  “You’re a worthless piece of shit, you know that?”

  Victor reached for the kid, but McKenna grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t hit him. The little prick would probably break in half.”

  Victor grunted, sent a racial slur at the kid, then slammed the door in his face. Once the door was locked, Romeo asked the other boys what they knew. They were as much in the dark as he and Cody were, and they’d been lured to the motel by Gina, just as Romeo and Cody had.

  A chubby, redheaded kid named Charlie tossed his head toward his friend, a handsome Hispanic teen named Alejandro.

  “Alejandro thought he was getting laid for sure, but then those guys pulled a gun on him. I didn’t know shit until I woke up and found that asshole McKenna chaining my wrists together.”

  The other two boys, Gary, who was another of Gina’s victims, and Gary’s friend, the black kid, nicknamed Pee-wee, told a similar story. All of the boys were freshmen at a local college, even Pee-wee, who was eighteen, but looked younger.

  Like Cody and Romeo, they had been driving cars worth money at a chop shop.

  Romeo looked around the shed, but there was nothing to see. The walls were made of wood and might give way if slammed into repeatedly, but long nails had been hammered in from the outside, which made it unfeasible to kick at or otherwise attack them.

  “We’ve got to get out of these chains,” Romeo said. “Xavier and I could pick the damn locks if we had some wire or maybe a paperclip.”

  Romeo looked at Cody with concern. It occurred to him that his friend had not said a word since being attacked by Victor. After shuffling over to a corner with Cody, Romeo leaned forward and whispered to his friend.

  “Yo, Cody, bro, are you all right?”

  Cody smiled at Romeo, then, one by one he spat out the four colorful bobby pins he had taken from Gina’s hair.

  Gina had been mistaken. Cody hadn’t been trying to bite her face, he had been gathering lock picks.

  “We’re getting out of this shack, Romeo, and then we’re going to kill those assholes.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” Romeo said.

  10

  A Chink In The Armor

  Professor Whittier Washington Branson Armstrong was seated across a desk from a homicide detective named Al Garibaldi. Garibaldi was certain that the professor had witnessed the brutal murder of attorney and former prosecutor, Mitch Barnes, but the professor wasn’t talking.

  Garibaldi and Professor Armstrong were acquainted. The two had met during a trial in which Professor Armstrong had testified as an expert witness. Armstrong had simplified for the jury the financial knot of an embezzlement scheme that had ended in a wrongful death. Garibaldi had been a detective involved with
that case, and Professor Armstrong had testified for the prosecution.

  While they were having lunch together in the cafeteria of the courts building, Armstrong had given Garibaldi free advice on the best way to deal with a tax situation involving a rental property, which the detective had recently inherited.

  The professor’s wise council wound up saving the detective thousands of dollars. He’d shown his gratitude by treating Armstrong and his daughter Megan to courtside seats at a college basketball game. The winning team was from Professor Armstrong’s alma mater. It was also where he taught economics.

  While Garibaldi and the professor were far from being close, they were friends, and Garibaldi was giving Armstrong his best advice in a confidential tone.

  “Stall, Whit. We’ve got men out searching for your daughter and it’s just a matter of time before we locate her. Meanwhile, we can hold Lionel McCall for questioning until late tomorrow afternoon. At that time, you’ll have no choice but to give a statement.”

  “But what if you don’t find Megan, Al? If that happens I still won’t make a statement. If I say nothing and McCall goes free, then they’ll have to let Megan go free as well.”

  “You’ll be letting a murderer go loose to kill again, Whit. Lionel McCall killed Mitch Barnes. I know it, and you witnessed it. Could you do that, just let him walk free?”

  “I’d have to,” Armstrong said from a face displaying shame. “It might be the only way I ever get to see Megan again.”

  Detective Garibaldi leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

  “Daryl McCall has your daughter, Whit. I’m sure of it. Once we’ve located McCall, we’ll find and free Megan.”

  “Do you think you’ll find him before his brother is released?”

  Garibaldi sighed. “I’d love to say yes, but the truth is, we don’t know where the hell he’s holed-up.”

  Daryl McCall stared at Keith Brown and wondered when his friend had become so damn stupid.

  Someone killed two of their street dealers, lured the cops to their main meth lab by faking a fire, and if that wasn’t enough, their money guy, Thomas Beck, was missing.

  And yet, here comes Keith Brown driving out to see him inside his easy to identify Rolls freaking Royce.

  “Were you trying to be followed here, Keith, is that it?” McCall asked.

  McCall was a light-skinned black man with a short afro, wide shoulders, and a thuggish, but handsome face. He was dressed in tan chinos, a black T-shirt, and wearing gold and green sneakers that cost over a thousand dollars.

  Keith Brown was dressed in an orange track suit, was ugly, and had followed Daryl McCall’s lead since the two had met in the second grade. His sneakers were a dingy white, three years old and he had paid twelve dollars for them.

  “Nobody followed us, D. My driver, Andre, he checked the mirrors all the way here. And before we took that road that leads out this way, we parked and waited twenty minutes. After no one came in after us, then we drove on in here.”

  McCall pointed at the Rolls.

  “Have Andre park that thing under one of the carports. I don’t need a police helicopter spotting it from the air.”

  “Right, D, no problem, but what are we going to do about these people trying to move in?”

  “I don’t even know who they are, but they’ve got bad timing. And before I deal with them, I have to get my brother away from the police.” McCall looked skyward, then turned in a half-circle. “Are you certain you weren’t followed here. If the cops come here and find the girl they’ll lock up my ass for kidnapping.”

  Brown smiled at him. “Like she’d get the chance to testify.”

  McCall smiled back, and both men laughed.

  Tanner waited an hour after Keith Brown’s Rolls Royce came to a stop before following the car to its destination. It was a ranch that had seen many years without a horse, while the large home sitting on it was renovated and looking new.

  The two-story house sat surrounded by nothing but land, but off in the distance, Tanner saw lights coming on in a small town.

  It was dusk, and Tanner had just finished making a slow and methodical circuit of the property on foot. He did this only after having fortified the position on the nearby hill that he would be using as an operations base.

  Part of that fortification required using a shovel, and as in shape as he was, Tanner felt a stiffness in his right shoulder, as shoveling dirt was an unfamiliar activity for him. He resolved to fine-tune his workout routine to address the issue, by adding more and varied free weight movements.

  McCall’s troops numbered nearly two dozen at the ranch, and a few of them, the perimeter guards, were armed with long-range rifles and night-vision scopes that could hit a target half a mile away. They might even have infrared capability.

  McCall had set them up near the corners of the home in structures that resembled life guard towers. It gave the men the height they needed to see farther.

  Tanner wasn’t concerned by them. He had paid Harper for a superior rifle, and Tanner had the skill and experience to put such a weapon to use.

  Daryl McCall had great security, but there was a chink in the armor, and Tanner was going to exploit it. But before that plan could go into effect, Tanner needed one more thing.

  McCall had turned an old barn into a barracks for his troops, but hadn’t bothered to install plumbing. His men were forced to use a latrine that was built from bricks and lumber. It was fifty yards behind the home, and the men likely only used it when they needed to defecate. They were surrounded by desert and could whip it out and pee almost anywhere.

  As latrines go, it was one of the better ones, and had four individual stalls. Tanner had come across it because of the odor, but there was another smell in the air, a more pleasant aroma of food.

  With the sun going down, the evening meal would be eaten, and there was a good chance that after eating, someone would need to do more than urinate.

  Using a knife, along with the cover of darkness, Tanner came up behind a man headed toward the latrine. He stabbed the thug several times in the abdomen while clamping a hand over his mouth. It was a struggle, even after the thug had received eight stab wounds, but he finally grew weak and sank to his knees.

  Tanner dragged the wounded hoodlum well off into the desert behind the latrine, while hoping no one spotted the blood trail left behind. It was unlikely they would, as the sandy soil was soaking it up. The man he’d stabbed was a young white guy with prison tats. He looked up at Tanner and released a moan, as his eyes shot daggers of hate.

  Tanner was used to being hated. It came with the job, and if he could, he would have put the man out of his misery and given him a quicker death. Unfortunately, for the punk he’d stabbed, Tanner needed him alive just a little longer. Alive, warm enough to be detected with a thermal scope, and a handy target and distraction.

  After tossing one of the burner phones he had near the dying man, Tanner moved deeper into the darkening night. As soon as he was in position, all hell would break loose.

  11

  Click!

  ARIZONA, MARCH 1998

  The click of the padlock springing open was about the best sound Cody had ever heard.

  He and Romeo were sitting back-to-back, as Romeo used the ends of two bobby pins to open the padlock holding Cody’s chains tight.

  Their mentor, Tanner, had taught them lock-picking weeks ago, and both boys were proficient at it. They had even picked locks while blindfolded during their training. Those lessons were paying off now, and would transform them from victims to predators.

  As the padlock was removed from the links, Cody felt the chain grow slack. Moments later, he had freed Romeo’s hands, then they both went to work on their ankle restraints.

  Standing nearby, the other boys stared at them in wonder. They had been locked inside the hot shed for hours with no hope of escape, but now, the two boys named Xavier and Romeo were shedding their chains as if it were something they did every day.
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br />   “How did you guys learn to pick padlocks?” Pee-wee asked.

  “We were taught by an expert, our teacher,” Cody said.

  “What college do you guys attend?” Charlie asked.

  “No college,” Romeo said, “But Xavier and I are being taught by the best.”

  “The best what?” asked Pee-wee.

  In answer, Cody and Romeo just smiled at him.

  As they were freeing the other boys, Cody and Romeo formulated a plan of escape, as they still had to get past the locked door.

  McKenna had been in Room 12. He was going through the belongings of the boys they’d kidnapped, when he heard shouting coming from out by the shed. He ignored it at first, as he thought the voices were raised in anger, and that the kids they had locked up were arguing.

  As the sound increased, then persisted, McKenna grew curious. He ambled over toward the shed, but broke into a run when he was close enough to distinguish what was being shouted.

  “Hey, out there! Charlie’s dying! Charlie is on the floor and he isn’t breathing!”

  McKenna’s mind raced as he tried to figure out which one was Charlie. When he remembered, he cursed.

  Charlie was the fat one, the redheaded kid. The heat inside the shed and the lack of water had probably gotten to him.

  That bastard, Victor, he had beat a kid to death back in Texas. That had been bad. That had scared McKenna, although Gina had thought the whole thing funny as hell. If he wasn’t making so much money working with Victor and that crazy bitch Gina, McKenna would have bailed back then.

  And now, another kid might be dying.

  McKenna fumbled at the keys in his pocket, stuck the right one into the large lock on the door, then paused to bring out his gun. There was no way the pricks inside could have gotten loose from the chains, but they might try to tackle him to the ground, then pile on top of him.