The TANNER Series - Books 4-6 (Tanner Box Set Book 2)

by Remington Kane

  Johnny took her in his arms.

  “Thanks for standing up for me. I’m no boy scout, but I like to think I’m not a dirtbag either.”

  “You’re not close to being a dirtbag. It’s just the opposite. The thing I find most surprising about you, is how good you really are.”

  “I owe that partly to Sam Giacconi. I was just a punk when he took me under his wing and he taught me to be a man.”

  “Are you and Pullo still planning to visit Giacconi later?”

  “Yes, but not until the late afternoon, he usually seems more lucid then.”

  Sara lightly touched the bandage on the left side of Johnny’s head.

  “How’s your wound feel?”

  “It hurts, but I’m good to go.”

  She started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “I don’t know. I think we should get you back to bed.”

  “Ah, and will you be keeping me company?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Johnny smiled.

  “I’m feeling better already.”

  CHAPTER 10 - Just how many former Navy SEALs are there?

  Tanner took note when the first carload of men drove by below the speed limit, but thought nothing of it.

  However, when the car returned minutes later and parked three houses down, to be joined by a second vehicle full of men, he knew something was up.

  He was at Sophia’s house, after spending the night there, and the two of them were seated on her porch reading the Sunday paper.

  “Sophia?”

  “The two cars?”

  “Yeah,” Tanner said, as a smile crossed his lips. Sophia had appeared to be absorbed by what she was reading, but the woman rarely missed a trick.

  “Do you recognize them?”

  Sophia shook her head.

  “Never saw them before, but there are four men in each of them.”

  The rear passenger door of the first car opened and out stepped a thin dapper-looking man with dark-blond hair, who was sporting a pair of stylish eyeglasses that had red-tinted frames.

  The man looked over at the porch for a moment before walking over slowly. His hands were extended away from his body, as if he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t armed.

  He looked at Tanner for just a moment, before locking eyes on Sophia. When he spoke, his English carried a strong German accent.

  “Excuse me, miss, but are you Sophia Verona?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Excellent, my name is Victor. I am associated with Bruno Heinz. You know this name, yes?”

  “Yeah, but I never met him.”

  “It is enough that you know of him. It has come to my attention that you may be able to contact a man known simply as, Tanner. If so, please let him know that I would like to speak with him.”

  “What do you want to talk to me about?” Tanner said.

  Victor looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

  “You are Tanner?”

  “I am.”

  A smile played at Victor’s lips.

  “From your reputation, sir, I would have thought you to be a giant.”

  It was Tanner’s turn to smile.

  “Let me guess, you read a lot of popular fiction?”

  Victor nodded.

  “As a matter of fact, I do, in my off hours; I find it relaxing.”

  “Uh-huh and the good guys and bad guys are all six-foot-six former Navy SEALs or SAS or Israeli Mossad, with genius IQ’s, arms like tree trunks, and the face of a movie star. In real life, you’ll find people that look like me, average-looking... but no less deadly.”

  Victor took a step backwards.

  “Yes, as I said, your reputation precedes you.”

  Tanner nodded towards the cars.

  “You’ve brought seven men with you, but I’ll tell you right now, they won’t be enough.”

  “I came here to talk, to make an offer. Mr. Heinz would like to hire you and I can personally attest that he pays well.”

  “I’m not interested, no matter the price.”

  “Ah, that is unfortunate.”

  “How so?”

  “I have been instructed to recruit you and I rarely fail at a task.”

  “Is that a threat, Victor?”

  “No, Tanner, that is a fact. Good day to both of you.”

  Victor spun on his heels and walked swiftly back to the cars, where he climbed into the rear passenger seat. Seconds later, both cars drove away.

  “Nervy bastard,” Sophia said. “And he’ll be back, count on it.”

  “He will be; which means I need to find a new place to stay. There’s no need to drag you into this.”

  “I’m already in, and you’re not going anywhere.”

  “When they come back...”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll have to kill them all.”

  Sophia grinned, as she recalled Victor’s surprise that Tanner wasn’t a giant among men.

  “A runt like you, you think you can handle them?”

  Tanner brought out the gun he had been holding beneath the newspaper.

  “I’ll manage somehow.”

  CHAPTER 11- The heir unapparent

  Johnny and Pullo were walking towards Sam Giacconi’s room, inside the care facility that housed the aged Mafia Don, when they heard laughter coming from beyond the open doorway.

  When they entered, they found Sam Giacconi sitting up in bed and listening with rapt attention to a young man of twenty-two, as the man told him a humorous tale that involved much gesturing and face mugging.

  Johnny stared at the kid, thinking that he looked familiar. When he realized who it was, he was shocked by how much he had grown since the last time he had seen him.

  The man’s name was Sam Giacconi, called Sammy and he was named after his grandfather.

  Sammy had dark hair that he wore past his shoulders, was nearly six-feet tall and athletic-looking, but not thickly built. When he turned his head to take in the new arrivals, his smile lit up the room.

  “Uncle Joe and Mr. Rossetti, how’s it going?”

  After Johnny greeted Sam, he reached out and shook young Sammy’s hand, while thinking that the kid looked a lot like his grandfather.

  “Damn kid, the last time I saw you, you were a foot shorter.”

  Sammy grinned.

  “That was a while ago, when you and Uncle Joe took me out to the range and taught me to shoot.”

  “Do you ever go shooting? If so, we’ll go together sometime,”

  “Oh yeah, I love to shoot, especially rifles.”

  Pullo was sitting on the edge of the bed. He pointed at Sammy with a look of pride on his face.

  “The kid just graduated from college, Magna something or other, a real brain.”

  The elder Giacconi was having a good day, in that he remembered Johnny and Joe. That was not always the case. They enjoyed the visit even more, as Sammy kept them laughing with his stories about life in California, where he went to college, before returning home after graduation to live near his widowed mother.

  The three of them left together after Sam drifted off to sleep, and Sammy walked out to the parking lot with them, where he suddenly became serious and asked Johnny a question.

  “The rumor is that The Family is going to war soon, is that true?”

  Johnny looked surprised by the question, but answered it.

  “Yeah, it looks that way, but that’s not something you should be worried about, Sammy.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Rossetti, I disagree. I’m a Giacconi, how could I not be concerned about what happens to the Giacconi Family?”

  “Sam kept you out of the business after your father died and I think I’ll do the same. Use that college education, kid, get a straight job, meet a girl, have fun and let me and Joe worry about The Family, okay?”

  Sammy, whose face usually wore a smile, now darkened with anger.

  “It’s my family too and yeah, my father died when the damn Russian mob tri
ed to take over, and like him, I’m ready to defend what my grandfather built. Don’t dismiss me, Mr. Rossetti; I’m not a boy anymore.”

  Johnny sighed.

  “Look Sammy, you want in, I get that, but not now, maybe someday.”

  “I shouldn’t even have to ask; which one of us is named Giacconi?”

  Pullo pointed a warning finger at Sammy.

  “This is Don Rossetti, show some respect.”

  Sammy looked abashed and lowered his eyes as he spoke to Johnny.

  “Sorry Uncle Joe, and I apologize Don Rossetti, I meant no offense.”

  “Mr. Rossetti will do, and what courses did you take in college?” Johnny asked.

  “I studied business technology.”

  “That’s good and I’m sure you can get a straight job with a degree like that.”

  “I’m sure I could, but I’d rather use what I know to help The Family, and that doesn’t mean that I expect to start at the top. I’ll start anywhere, I just want in.”

  Johnny placed a hand on Sammy’s shoulder and then glanced over at Pullo.

  “Is there something he can do?”

  “Yeah, but it’s all grunt work, you know, but we do need someone in one of the chop shops, dismantling the cars that come in, that sort of thing. In a year or two we can move him into a supervisory position.”

  “Are you good with your hands, kid?”

  Sammy grinned.

  “That’s what the ladies say.”

  Johnny laughed.

  “All right then, Joe will call you soon with the details, and welcome aboard.”

  Sammy took Johnny’s hand, held it, and then leaned in and spoke in a low voice.

  “I appreciate the opportunity to become a part of The Family, but I want to do more someday, especially if a war breaks out. I know the sort of work my father did, the sort of work Joe did before he became consigliere, and I want you to know, I’m ready to step into my father’s shoes whenever you say so.”

  Johnny released Sammy’s hand and stared at the young man, surprised by the request.

  Sammy’s father, Joseph Giacconi, who, like Joe, was named after Joe Pullo’s father, had been a mob enforcer reputed to have killed over fifty men.

  “Sammy, the day may come when I’ll need to ask you to perform... other duties, but for now, let’s see how you do at the chop shop, okay?”

  “I got ya. I just wanted you to know that I’m ready and willing, Mr. Rossetti.”

  Sammy said goodbye to Johnny and Joe. When he drove away in his sports car, both men waved to him from their seats inside the Hummer.

  “You think the kid could take his father’s place someday, Joe?”

  “Yeah, Sammy is tougher than he looks, and hell, I started much younger than that, but don’t worry; I’ll keep him out of trouble.”

  “You know, that kid could be the future of The Family.”

  Pullo started the engine.

  “It’s the present I’m worried about, Heinz has to be stopped.”

  “Yeah, but first we have to deal with Tanner and get him back on our side, we’ll need him.”

  “And what about Sara? Will she make peace?”

  “I’ll make sure of it,” Johnny said, while wishing he felt as confident as he sounded.

  CHAPTER 12 - Weak links

  Early evening at the Cabaret Strip Club found Joe Pullo filling in for Johnny, as his boss was still recovering from his head wound.

  As Pullo relaxed at the bar and nursed a beer, he kept staring at Merle and Earl, as the brothers sat at the opposite end of the bar.

  His staring unnerved them, and they tried not to look back, which made Pullo happy. He didn’t trust the pair and thought that Johnny was foolish not to have them killed, simply as a precaution, if nothing else.

  He figured that they must overhear things while driving Johnny around, and unlike Mario, the former chauffeur, Joe believed they couldn’t be trusted.

  Mario died rather than betray them. That kind of loyalty was rare.

  Joe sighed. Mario had been a friend, and he missed him.

  A woman walked in and all eyes turned to look at her.

  That she entered the strip club alone was curious enough, but her beauty and obvious grace made the eye linger.

  Although it was a Sunday night, she appeared to be dressed for business, but the dark-blue pantsuit she wore did little to hide her curves, and she walked over to the bar while moving like an athlete.

  Most would likely categorize her as an African-American, but she was of mixed race and her green eyes canted slightly, while her skin appeared golden, a dark gold that glowed with health.

  When she spotted him, Pullo saw a glint of recognition in her eyes and wondered why that was, but as she drew closer, he noticed two things that had escaped him earlier.

  One, was that despite being fit, she was somewhere around his age, forty-one, and two, she was acting like the law, as her eyes took in everything around her.

  There was a young blonde dancing on stage and the woman stopped and gazed at her for several moments with admiration and interest, causing Pullo to wonder what team she played on.

  The woman smiled at Pullo, took the stool on his right, and when Carl the bartender asked her what she would like to drink, she ordered a whiskey sour.

  When the drink came, Pullo signaled to Carl that it was on the house.

  The woman turned and smiled at him.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The voice was deeper than the voice of most women, but nonetheless feminine. Joe found himself eager to hear her speak again.

  “You’re welcome, Officer, but tell me, exactly what kind of cop are you?”

  The credentials came out and the pulsating lights from the dance platform made the blue and gold badge sparkle.

  Pullo read aloud the information on the card.

  “Jade Taylor, Special Agent, IRS-Criminal Investigation Division,”

  “And you’re Joseph Pullo, a high-ranking member of the Giacconi Crime Family.”

  “My name is Joseph Pullo, but I’m just an assistant manager of this bar.”

  Jade laughed and the sound was musical to Pullo. Had he not been involved with Laurel, he would have been tempted to find out whether he and Jade Taylor were playing on the same team, Fed or not.

  “How many men have you killed Pullo?”

  Pullo ignored the question and asked one of his own.

  “Are you here about the mileage deductions I took on my Hummer? I assure you they were all legit.”

  Jade’s eyes burned into his.

  “I’m here because Michelle Geary was a friend of mine, FBI Special Agent Michelle Geary, a woman who was killed by your man, Mario Petrocelli.”

  Pullo placed his beer mug on the bar and stared at her.

  “You have a vendetta against us and you’re planning on using your IRS muscle to settle the score. Go right ahead, like I said, I’m just an assistant manager and I didn’t even know your friend. What happened with Mario was a tragedy all the way around.”

  “Is Johnny Rossetti here?”

  “He’s under the weather.”

  Jade stood and tossed a business card atop the bar.

  “Let Rossetti know that I’m coming for him, and before I’m through, I’ll see both of you behind bars for tax evasion. It’s not the murder charge you deserve, but it will have to do. Goodnight, Mr. Pullo.”

  Pullo watched Jade walk out of the bar, and afterwards, his eyes fell on Merle and Earl again.

  They were the weakest links in a chain that, if broken, could land him in a jail cell for decades. Had Michelle Geary gone after them instead of Mario, Pullo had no doubt that the brothers would have folded, worn wires, and sold anyone they could down the river to save themselves.

  There was war brewing and a Fed was gunning for them as well.

  Weak links were either strengthened or replaced, but you didn’t wait until they broke.

  Merle and Earl had to go.

  C
HAPTER 13 - Give him my regards

  On Monday morning, Sophia was at the kitchen sink filling the coffee pot with water, when she spotted the girl in her backyard. The girl was seated at her patio table, near the red brick grill.

  “Who is that?” Sophia muttered.

  She couldn’t see the girl’s face, but from the size and shape of her, Sophia guessed the girl was in her teens, and the way her shoulders shook, Sophia could tell she was crying.

  Sophia yawned. She and Tanner had taken turns keeping watch overnight in case Victor returned with the men from the cars. She hadn’t gone to bed until two a.m., when Tanner took over for her.

  She could hear him moving around upstairs after getting out of the shower and figured that he would be down shortly.

  The girl in the yard let out a sob and Sophia went out her back door to see what was what. She was thinking that it was probably one of the neighbors’ kids who was looking for a place to go after fighting with her parents, or judging by the sobs, after breaking up with a boyfriend.

  “Hey honey, what’s wrong?”

  The girl peeked over her shoulder at Sophia and she got a glimpse of one blue eye through the strands of blond hair.

  She moved closer.

  “My name is Sophia. Do you live around here?”

  No answer, but when Sophia moved close enough to touch her, the girl turned and Sophia saw the gun.

  “Shit!”

  “That’s right,” the woman said, and there was the trace of a German accent in her voice.

  While petite and slim, a good look at her face told Sophia that the “girl” was at least thirty and before she could move away, the woman had the gun pressed beneath her chin.

  “Call Tanner and get him out here.”

  Sophia was about to tell the woman what she thought of that idea when Tanner stepped out the back door and headed towards them. He was holding a gun and had it aimed at the woman.

  “Shoot me and she dies,” the woman said, while pressing her gun harder into the soft flesh beneath Sophia’s jawline.

  “What do you want?” Tanner asked her.

  “There’s a phone on the table, see it?”

  Tanner picked up the cheap phone that was laying beside an ashtray.

  “There is a number built in, call it, and that asshole Victor will have instructions for you.”