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The TANNER Series - Books 13-15 (Tanner Box Set)

Page 8

by Remington Kane


  There was a full set of body armor as well. Something that Alexa insisted he bring along. There was also a bullet-resistant helmet and a ballistic face mask to go along with the body armor.

  “I could back you up if it comes down to storming the house,” Sara said.

  “No Blake, if I have to go down there I’ll do so alone. Having you help this much doesn’t even feel right. I’m being paid to kill Yatsenko, not you, and it’s my ass that will be risked if I somehow miss him with the rifle.”

  “We’re a team, Tanner. You and me... and Deke. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

  Tanner looked back at her from over his shoulder.

  “If I go down there, I go alone, but thanks for the offer.”

  Sara sent him a nod, and then they waited for Yatsenko’s arrival.

  “Speaking of Deke,” Sara said. “I wonder if he and Alexa are enjoying their museum trip.”

  Tanner grinned.

  “They’re both into edged weaponry, so I bet they’re having a great time.”

  ***

  Miles away, Alexa lay unconscious inside her vehicle while Deke took to concealment in an attempt to avoid their attackers.

  The back doors of the white van opened and three men jumped out of it. The van had been a part of the trap out on the highway. Its three occupants joined with the two men from the old tractor, then came together with the four men who had started the trouble back at the gas station.

  Of the nine men, only two of them were armed with firearms. It was the driver of the van, a man named Louie, who held a Glock. The other armed man was the passenger from the tractor, who was holding a shotgun across his chest, a modified Mossberg that could fire six shots. His name was Max, and it was his farm they were on.

  Max was wearing a pair of filthy cargo pants, and two of the pockets were bulging with 12 gauge shells.

  The men had gathered at the end of the dirt track, then as one, they approached Alexa’s car with purposeful strides, as the man holding the Glock kept it aimed at the vehicle. He was ready to kill if they were threatened. Once they reached the car, they stood in a semi-circle around it and stared in at Alexa, who was still out cold.

  One of the men rubbed his crotch through the fabric of his jeans.

  “Damn, that bitch is hot, but where’s the fucker that was with her?”

  Max used his shotgun to point out at the field on the driver’s side of the car as he called over to Louie, the man holding the Glock.

  “That prick is likely hiding out in the corn somewhere, take the boys and drag his ass back here while I keep watch over the girl.”

  Louie, a skinny man who was balding on top, nodded his agreement, and then Dark Beard, the man who had organized the attack, spoke to Max.

  “If the bitch comes to while we’re gone, don’t fuck her. I don’t like sloppy seconds.”

  Max grinned back at him.

  “Hell, I don’t need her to wake up. She wouldn’t be the first zonked out whore I’ve screwed.”

  The men all laughed, then, they spread out and went looking for Deke, other than Louie’s Glock, the others all carried baseball bats or tire irons.

  Max watched them go. When they were far enough away that he thought they wouldn’t hear it, he eased open the passenger door on the car and gazed down at Alexa. There was a lump rising on the right side of Alexa’s forehead that was a deep red in color.

  Max’s eyes traveled over her body, and after sitting the shotgun atop the roof of the car, he reached down with his right hand and felt Alexa’s breasts.

  “Oh, those are nice, I think I will get a piece of you while they’re gone.”

  An instant later, Max let out a yelp, as he felt himself falling backwards. His ankles had been gripped by a pair of strong hands and then yanked hard.

  Max fell to the dirt on his back and felt the air rush from his lungs. He lifted his head as he struggled to take a breath and saw Deke crawling out from beneath the car. He was coated in dirt from the road and holding a knife.

  Deke kept crawling until he was straddling Max and had a hand clamped over his mouth. Deke’s other hand held Alexa’s knife, and with a savage thrust, he buried several inches of the blade into the side of Max’s head, then kept pushing it until it was in to the hilt. Max shuddered spasmodically as his eyes danced in his head, but then went still and seemed to deflate. Deke removed the blade and wiped it clean on Max’s pants.

  As he stood above the corpse, its bowels loosened and sent forth a foul stench, while a urine stain began spreading across the front of the pants.

  Deke grabbed the shotgun from the roof of the car. After checking to make certain that Alexa was still breathing and had a strong pulse, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Deke then removed the extra shells from Max’s pockets and crept into the corn.

  The prey had become the hunter.

  CHAPTER 15 – The hunted

  Kyril Yatsenko was looking forward to relaxing at his lake house.

  The diminutive Ukrainian had led a hard life before coming to the US, but as countless others before him, he found America to be a land of opportunity.

  The Internet had made it so easy to make money, while the risk of going to jail for identity theft was practically nonexistent. As profitable as ID theft was, cyber blackmail was even more lucrative, and Yatsenko had plans to blackmail the US the way he had recently coerced the Japanese into transferring tens of millions of euros into his accounts in Europe.

  Yatsenko was traveling in a limo with three of his best men and two of the hookers he was bringing out to the lake. There were three SUV’s following behind them, and they contained nine more of his men along with six more hookers.

  While he would have two of the women all to himself, his men would each have to share a woman, but then, he was the boss, and leadership had its perks.

  Yatsenko thought about the men and wondered how much longer he would keep them around. While he still ran a few dozen girls and had a healthy protection racket going, the money they brought in was small-time when compared to what he made from cyber attacks.

  He needed to make a decision over what to do with his lesser criminal enterprises, since they were a drain on his time, time that would be better suited to other endeavors.

  Yatsenko’s most trusted man was an American, although the man was of Ukrainian descent and a distant cousin. His name was Travis Yates, the Yates being an Americanized version of Yatsenko, which Travis’s great-grandfather had changed after passing through Ellis Island over a hundred years ago.

  Yatsenko stared at Yates and asked himself if he could truly trust the big man. He figured that he could. After all, Yates headed his security team and did most of the enforcement, when the latter was needed.

  The man being family was also a plus, and Yatsenko thought that maybe it was time to let Yates take the helm of the street business while he concentrated on running the cyber operations.

  ***

  Seated across from Yatsenko, Yates had noticed his boss staring at him. Yates was a handsome man who was ten years Yatsenko’s junior, and while Yatsenko’s blond hair was dark and his blue eyes like ice, Yates eyes were a deep blue and his blond hair was light.

  “What’s up, Kyril?” Yates asked.

  Yatsenko blinked, as if coming out of a trance.

  “Nothing, but we need to sit down and talk after dinner. I have a proposition for you that I think you’ll like.”

  Yates grinned at his boss.

  “I thought this little getaway was all about pleasure, but I’m always ready to do some business.”

  “I know, but we’ll play too,” Yatsenko said.

  They drove along the highway and the traffic grew thinner as they neared their destination.

  When something occurred to Yatsenko, he asked Yates about it.

  “Concerning dinner, did you stock the refrigerator at the lake house?”

  “I did it myself,” Yates said. “Me and Mikey made a trip out here a few days
ago and loaded the house with booze and food. I also made arrangements with a catering service. They’ll be here tomorrow and drop off a shitload of pre-made meals, so we’ll just have to heat and eat.”

  “Good man,” Yatsenko said. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, a section of fence was knocked down by a tree. The fence company will be out on Tuesday after the tree gets removed on Monday. And oh yeah, we caught some of the teens in the area hanging out on the back deck. Mikey ran them off, but I got that local guy we hired checking the house more often to make sure they stay away, he’ll also come by and use the ATV in the shed to plow if we get any snow while we’re here.”

  “What’s the man’s name again?” Yatsenko asked.

  “Ah... Kessler, Boyd Kessler.”

  ***

  Boyd Kessler let out a moan of relief when Henry’s gun refused to fire.

  The rifle’s hammer was cocked, and when Henry had yanked it from Kessler’s hands, the safety engaged.

  Henry had no idea what the problem was, he only knew that the rifle was refusing to fire. When Kessler let out a sigh and seemed to be recovering from the punch to his groin, Henry decided that it was best to flee and figure out the gun later. He turned and bolted into the trees, as Kessler called him names and went in pursuit.

  Henry’s stride was much shorter than Kessler’s, but just as the big man was reaching out to grab his shoulder, Henry dived to the ground and squirmed beneath a row of wild bushes.

  By the time Kessler made it around the hedges, Henry was putting distance between them again and was weaving through the trees and towards his house.

  Kessler ran after him, but lost sight of Henry. Thinking that the boy had climbed up a tree, Kessler searched the branches above him with his eyes, but saw nothing.

  “I know you’re here somewhere you little shit, and let me tell you, the next time I see you I’ll strangle your ass and bury you in a hole.”

  Kessler stood quietly and looked around. After over a minute had passed, he strode off back towards Yatsenko’s lake house. He had finished his work there and left it to go buy smokes but decided to return and be there when the man arrived, on the off-chance that he might receive a tip for a job well done.

  As Yates had asked him to do, Kessler had kept the local teens away from the house and had cleaned the place and made sure that there weren’t any empty beer cans or used condoms laying about on the deck.

  He’d done a good job, and maybe he’d get a bonus, or at the very least, some free drinks and a meal. With Henry forgotten, Kessler lit a cigarette and moved off through the trees.

  ***

  A few seconds after Kessler left, Henry peeked his head out from the base of the hollow tree he used as a hideout. After fooling around with his M1 Garand and figuring out that the safety was engaged, Henry removed the clip, fired the gun dry a few times, and then placed the clip back in.

  He did this last part carefully, as he had once gotten a thumb caught in the rifle when the bolt slammed back. It had hurt like hell and he knew the bolt could smash his finger if he wasn’t careful.

  Confident that his gun would fire, Henry hurried off towards the lake with a determined look on his young face.

  Boyd Kessler had killed his mother, and he was going to make the man pay.

  ***

  Many miles away, Victor Roth moved through the cornstalks with a smile on his face as he and his friends hunted down a man they didn’t even know.

  They were after Deke, and all Victor knew about the man was that he had been with the Mexican chick lying in the car, and that his friends said he had given them some shit.

  Nobody came onto their turf and gave them shit, not even the local cops. Although, the cops left them alone because the cops got free weed from what they grew on Max’s farm, and every once in a while a wad of cash would be included with the weed.

  The dude from the car had fucked with the wrong people, that was for damn sure, and it was the last mistake the man would ever make.

  A noise came from Victor’s right. It sounded like something heavy falling, and he wondered if the guy from the car had spotted him and dropped to the ground in an effort to hide.

  Victor moved towards the sound with the bat he carried held high, and was prepared to bring it crashing down onto a skull.

  When he reached the spot where the noise came from, he lowered his hands and moved towards the object lying in the dirt between the stalks.

  It was a shotgun, and damn if it didn’t look just like Max’s Mossberg.

  Victor leaned over to pick it up, and as he did so, he sensed movement behind him. He felt the most intense pain of his life an instant before falling towards the ground, even as the world around him disappeared.

  ***

  After pulling the blade from the base of Victor’s skull, Deke grabbed the shotgun and moved as quietly as he could towards the next closest man. He had killed two, but there were seven more to go, and one of them carried a gun.

  Deke stalked his prey, and like Victor had done while searching for him, he too was smiling.

  CHAPTER 16 – A change of plans

  Boyd Kessler couldn’t believe it. Henry was back on his trail, and kid or not, the boy had a rifle that could kill him.

  Kessler smiled. It was time to teach the kid a lesson. Kessler made a detour away from the lake house and headed to a secluded spot atop a hill where he could turn the tables on Henry.

  And if the boy pissed him off enough, he’d kill him.

  What the hell, Kessler thought. Kids go missing all the time.

  ***

  Henry was certain that Kessler had been headed towards the house with the private lake, but after rounding a bend along a trail, he caught sight of Kessler heading uphill where a grouping of boulders sat.

  Henry followed, staying as silent as he could while his eyes searched right and left. Despite Kessler being bigger and older than he was, Henry wasn’t afraid, and in fact, he seldom felt fear.

  He was simply determined to put Kessler down and avenge his mother.

  After cresting a small rise, Henry spotted Kessler as the man was lowering himself against a boulder. After Kessler was sitting on the ground with his back resting against the stone, Henry crept closer.

  As he drew nearer, Henry had to maneuver around another boulder in order to close in on the one that Kessler rested against. After doing so, he found that Kessler had moved. Sensing a trap, Henry spun around, but he was too late, and Kessler once again wrenched the rifle from his hands.

  Henry was about to try kicking the man, but Kessler was ready for it and shoved him hard enough to cause him to trip and fall. Henry lay on his back, looking up at Kessler, and gazing down the barrel of his own rifle.

  Kessler smiled at Henry, aimed at a spot between the boy’s legs, and fired into the dirt.

  “I should shoot your little ass, but if you beg for your life I’ll let you live.”

  Henry gazed up at Kessler with hate in his eyes.

  “Fuck you! You killed my mother.”

  Kessler sneered as he took aim.

  “You miss that slut? Maybe I’ll send you to meet her.”

  The second shot was much closer, and missed hitting Henry by only inches.

  ***

  Moments earlier and a mile away, Tanner sighted through his rifle scope and could make out Yatsenko’s caravan of vehicles as they moved down the long driveway and towards the lake house.

  “As I expected they would, they have women with them,” Tanner told Sara.

  Sara adjusted her binoculars to their highest magnification and saw a female form in one of the SUV’s, although she couldn’t make out any facial details, just the impression of long hair and red lips.

  “They’re probably hookers,” Sara said.

  “What they are is a complication. When the round hits Yatsenko there can’t be any civilians near him, or the shot might pass through him and kill them as well.”

  Sara was surprised by Tanner’s
concern.

  “You’re worried about the hookers?”

  “They’re like most people, Blake. They’re just trying to earn a living and doing as they’re told. If I can avoid killing one of them I will. It’s just something else to factor into the shot.”

  “Good, yes, don’t harm the women if you can help it,” Sara said, and then she grew quiet, as the limo came to a stop in the wide parking area in front of the house. The SUV’s followed suit, and then people began piling out of the vehicles and grabbing suitcases.

  More than one of them looked up where Tanner was lying with the sniper rifle, but thanks to the camouflage and the great distance, he was invisible to them. Sara however was visible, as she was standing and looking about in case anyone was sneaking up on them.

  If she were noticed by Yatsenko and his people, they would likely take her to be a hiker, or possibly a bird watcher, since she was using binoculars. In any case, she would be indistinct given the distance.

  Yatsenko emerged from the rear of the limo and Tanner sighted in on him. After everyone had climbed out of the vehicle, Yatsenko simply stood there enjoying the clean country air. Tanner set up his shot, aiming high and to the left of Yatsenko. If his aim were true, the bullet drop that took place over such a long distance would place the round directly into Yatsenko’s heart.

  Tanner was pulling on the trigger when Sara shouted his name, and an instant later, the sound of a rifle shot echoed through the trees.

  The sound hadn’t come from Tanner’s rifle, but from Henry’s, and when Tanner looked up at Sara, he saw her pointing to his left, while still gazing through the binoculars.

  “Over there! Someone’s shooting at Henry.”

  Tanner stood in a rush, gazed through the rifle scope, and saw the back of a man he believed might be Boyd Kessler. The man was firing rounds at Henry, who lay on the ground with his hands up in surrender. Tanner got the impression that the man was playing with the boy, taunting him, but after a second, and then a third shot, Tanner had seen enough.

 

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