Tanner- Year One

by Remington Kane

  Pullo glanced at Tanner, then turned back to Grainger.

  “How much stuff was it?”

  “It was only one box, I packed it up yesterday. Cory had been renting one of the furnished basement rooms, but he hasn’t been here in weeks.”

  Pullo headed back to the car, then turned to speak to Grainger again as something occurred to him.

  “Was the box marked in any way?”

  “No, oh wait, yeah, it was an old shipping carton that used to hold an air-conditioner. It’s a white box.”

  They caught up with the truck and explained to the driver and his helpers what they were after. To gain their assistance, Pullo handed out twenty-dollar bills. One of the men grabbed a shovel from where it was secured to the side of the truck. He used the instrument to uncover the white carton. It was crushed and had ketchup spilled on it, but the packing tape used to seal it was still intact.

  They thanked the sanitation workers and sent them on their way, then placed the box inside the trunk of their car and opened it. Grainger had been right, there wasn’t much, and what there was consisted of mostly clothing. They did find a receipt for a safe deposit box, which explained the absence of any personal papers or mementos. Then, they found the photo.

  It was a picture of Cory Banks taken in front of a bowling alley with the name of the place visible in the background. The redheaded man was in the photo as well, along with four other men and a woman, one of the men was Robbie Vespa.

  “We need to find out where this bowling alley is located,” Tanner said. “It’s our next stop.”

  “Yeah, but they probably don’t open early; we might as well get rooms and grab some sleep.”

  They found a decent motel in Springfield and took rooms. Before resting, they went to an internet café they had passed along the way. After a few minutes of surfing the web, Tanner learned that the bowling alley was back in Pennsylvania, near the Pittsburgh area, which was four hours away in the direction they had traveled from.

  Once they had rested, they would head there and look for more answers.

  8

  Swing, Batter Batter, Swing

  The bowling alley had twenty-four lanes. Pullo had never bowled. Tanner had, but he was no fan of the activity. They spent the early evening at a table sipping on beer and watching for anyone they might recognize from the pictures they had.

  When two women entered alone, Tanner went over to talk to them. Their names were Carla and Gwen. Carla was a blonde, while Gwen had auburn curls. Pullo and Tanner passed the time talking to the women and learned that Gwen had recently broken up with her boyfriend.

  “He’s the only guy she’s ever been out with,” Carla said. “They met in high school.”

  Tanner smiled at Gwen in a way that told her he would be willing to help her broaden her experience of men. She blushed and grabbed her purse.

  “Carla and I will be in the ladies’ room. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “We’ll be here,” Pullo assured them.

  A man entered the bowling alley and headed down the short hallway that led to the men’s room. The dark-haired man had the look of someone who’d been in the military. He moved with purpose and his posture was erect. Pullo took out the photo they’d found in the box that morning and pointed at one of the men in it. Although he was in the picture, he’d been relegated to the background, where he was leaning against a pickup truck.

  “I know it’s hard to make out his face, but isn’t that the guy that just walked in?”

  Tanner agreed it could be, then asked Pullo how he wanted to handle it.

  “I’d like to grab up the bastard and make him tell us where to find the redheaded prick that killed Al.”

  “We could do that, but it will make things harder. For all we know the man you want is back at some compound we won’t be able to get into easily. Also, I have to identify and kill the group’s leader.”

  Pullo released a sigh. “I know, so we play it cool. When the guy leaves, we follow him.”

  “That makes sense, but I’d rather talk to him.”

  “You might get your chance,” Pullo said.

  The man returned and took a seat at the bar. A closer look revealed that the T-shirt he wore had an emblem that matched the Liberty Boys Militia tattoo Cory Banks had on his arm. There was a sealed envelope in his hand that hadn’t been there before he entered the men’s room. Tanner assumed that a meeting had taken place and the envelope was exchanged for something even smaller, like drugs.

  Tanner walked over to the bar with Pullo following. Tanner took a seat two stools over from the militia member and ordered a fresh mug of beer. Looking over at the man, he gestured at his chest.

  “I used to know a guy who had a tattoo that resembled your shirt.”

  The man studied Tanner; his gaze was a scrutinizing one. Looking past Tanner, he took in Pullo as well.

  “What was the guy’s name? Maybe I know him.”

  “Mike something,”

  “There’s lots of Mike’s out there.”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” Tanner agreed. “What’s that symbol mean?”

  “I’m a member of the Liberty Boys Militia.”

  “What’s that pay?”

  The man smiled. “It’s more like an honor, buddy.”

  “Honor is good, but a man has to eat. Joe and I are looking for work.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “We’ve never been to war or in the military. You might say we’re more like street soldiers, the freelance type.”

  The man turned in his seat to give them a better look. “You’re mercenaries?”

  “You could say that. I’m Ray, he’s Joe.”

  The man finished his drink, a whisky, while facing front, then he turned back to Tanner.

  “The militia can always use good men. What are your qualifications?”

  Tanner said he knew how to use most weapons, including sniper rifles and rocket launchers. He also mentioned that he spoke several languages. That last part interested the man. While Pullo wasn’t as knowledgeable as Tanner, he was able to tell the militia member that he had been part of a gang since he was a boy and could fight well and handle guns.

  They were certain the Liberty Boys Militia were involved in something illegal; if so, men such as themselves would be valuable assets.

  The man offered his hand and Tanner and Pullo shook it.

  “My name is Briggs. I’m just a cog in the militia’s wheel. Come back here tomorrow night at eight and I’ll introduce you to a man who can make decisions. If Logan likes what he sees, you guys can join the Liberty Boys as recruits.”

  “How do you guys make money?” Pullo asked.

  A small smile curved Briggs’ lips. “One thing at a time. First Logan has to take a liking to you, and you’ll have to pass a marksman test. We don’t want guys that can’t shoot.”

  “We can shoot well,” Tanner said, “and we’ll be back here tomorrow night.”

  “If for some reason I can’t make it, you two sit here at the bar and Logan will find you.”

  Briggs tossed a couple of dollars on the bar for a tip and headed out.

  “Maybe we’ll get our foot in the door tomorrow night,” Tanner said. “Once we’re allowed inside the base and get an idea of how things work, we’ll make plans to kill our targets.”

  “That’s fine by me, but I’m not getting one of those damn tattoos,” Pullo said.

  A loud shout came from back at the tables. Gwen and Carla had returned, and they had company. A guy with enough muscle for two men had a grip on Gwen’s arm, as if he were trying to drag her off. There were three other men. They stood by laughing at Gwen as they found the scene amusing; like their friend, they were muscular and wore sleeveless T-shirts.

  Tanner walked over with Pullo and asked what was going on. Carla pointed at the man harassing Gwen.

  “This asshole thinks Gwen is his property, even though they broke up.”

  Tanner smiled at the man. “Ah
, the ex-boyfriend. I see you’re as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

  The muscled hulk released Gwen’s arm and stepped up to glare at Tanner, whom he was bigger and taller than.

  “Did you call me stupid?”

  Before things could go any further, two members of the bowling alley’s staff appeared. Their bright yellow shirts had the word SECURITY written over the front pockets.

  “Anyone throws a punch and we call the police,” said the older of the two men. He was about forty and wore a Taser on his belt.

  Gwen’s ex-boyfriend made a sound of disgust before speaking to his friends.

  “Let’s go,” Before turning to leave, he spoke to Tanner. “I’ll see you again, asshole.”

  The four punks walked out the door as Tanner and Joe sat at the table. Gwen was rubbing her arm where it was grabbed, but she was smiling at Tanner.

  “You were brave. Calvin is much bigger than you are.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, and I’m hungry, is the kitchen still serving food?”

  The answer was yes, and the four of them enjoyed a pizza. Before leaving the bowling alley together, the women returned to the ladies’ room. Pullo walked over and looked out the door, to view the parking lot. When he returned to the table, he had news.

  “The jerk and his three friends are waiting for you out there, Tanner.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Once we flash our guns they’ll take off.”

  “No guns. They need to learn a lesson.”

  “I’m game,” Pullo said. “But we could avoid having to fight them altogether.”

  “Thanks for the offer of help, but I’ll handle them alone.”

  “Four against one?”

  “It will be a good workout.”

  “I’ll still have your back.”

  Tanner nodded at Pullo. “That goes both ways.”

  Gwen’s ex headed toward them with his posse in tow as they walked the women to Carla’s Honda. Two of the men had acquired bats, the ex-boyfriend, Calvin, was one of them. Instead of waiting for the men to come to him, Tanner headed toward them.

  “Tanner?” Pullo said.

  “I got this,” Tanner told him.

  The ex-boyfriend raised his bat high, as if it were an axe and Tanner was a piece of wood. Tanner fired a kick into the man’s face that sent him falling backwards. He followed that up with a kick to the knee of the second man with a bat. The guy grunted in pain then began screaming about his knee.

  Tanner waited to see what the other men would do. The taller of the two sent a punch at his face. After ducking beneath the swing, Tanner straightened and drove an elbow into the man’s throat. He stumbled into the remaining man and they both lost their balance and fell to the ground.

  The ex-boyfriend was back for more. He swung the bat low this time, hoping to take Tanner’s legs out and drive him to the ground. Tanner leapt up, avoiding the blow while transitioning into another kick. His foot caught the man on the side of the face. It opened up a cut and dislocated his jaw. The ex-boyfriend dropped the bat and let out a gurgled cry of pain. When Tanner looked at the man’s friends, he saw they were backing away from him.

  “Go home,” Tanner said.

  The one man who remained uninjured helped the man with the busted knee to limp along toward a van. When Tanner returned to the car, Gwen smiled at him as if he’d given her the best gift ever.

  She leaned into Tanner and kissed him, when they separated, she made a request.

  “Follow us home. Carla and I share an apartment.”

  “We’ll do that,” Tanner said.

  Pullo drove as Tanner sat in the passenger seat.

  “That was some fancy kung fu you did on those jerks, Tanner.”

  “It was karate.”

  “I don’t think we’ll need motel rooms tonight.”

  “To the victor goes the spoils,” Tanner said.

  9

  Thanks But No Thanks

  Tanner and Pullo arrived back at the bowling alley at eight the following evening. Briggs was seated at a table with a lean man in his forties who had deeply-tanned skin. He had been one of the men in the photo Robbie Vespa had. When they walked over, Briggs introduced the man as Logan.

  Logan claimed to be second-in-command under the militia’s leader, Nick Cannon. At the mention of Cannon, Tanner had a name for the man he’d been contracted to kill.

  Logan listened to the phony personal histories Tanner and Pullo made up and seemed impressed that Tanner spoke more than one language.

  “Of course, you two won’t become members of the militia right away. There’s an evaluation period where we’ll be testing your skills and seeing what you’re made of. We also want people who think the right way.”

  “What way is that?” Pullo asked.

  “We don’t want anyone with us who doesn’t believe in the right of a free man to run his own life. If you love the government, we’ve got no use for you.”

  Pullo had been drinking from his beer mug as Logan spoke. He lowered the glass to the table with a clunk and stared at Logan.

  “Love the government? Who the hell could love the government? Those bastards in Washington think of us as pawns that they can use anyway they like. And the damn taxes! My father lost our house when I was a kid because he couldn’t keep up with the property taxes. And what the hell is up with that anyway? Property taxes? Do you own the land or not? It’s extortion, plain and simple, damn extortion. Pay or be kicked off the land. How can a man have his home taken away if he owns it? He can’t, or it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. It broke my old man to lose that house; he hasn’t been the same since.”

  Pullo continued to rant for another minute in a tirade that mentioned the I.R.S., the siege at Waco, and a conspiracy involving the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

  Tanner was impressed. Pullo didn’t give a damn about the government and the shenanigans it played with people’s lives. He was a member of a criminal organization that made its own rules and had a culture dating back to the 19th century.

  Tanner would be surprised if Pullo even considered himself an American. To a man like Joe Pullo, the United States government was just another gang of crooks similar to the one he belonged to, only immensely bigger. Pullo’s allegiance was to Sam Giacconi and the Giacconi Crime Family, everyone else was an outsider and everything else was secondary.

  Briggs and Logan listened with interest to Pullo as he unwound his spiel. When he finally calmed down, Logan was smiling.

  “You’ve got your head on straight, Russo. The government is no damn good. At the militia, we’re our own government.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Pullo said emphatically.

  Logan’s eyes found Tanner’s. “Do you feel the same way as your friend, Hollis?”

  “More or less, but I really don’t have much interest in anything other than taking care of myself. Politics and such nonsense don’t mean a thing to me.”

  “Ah, a practical man; I would guess you want to know how you’ll be compensated in the militia.”

  “Of course.”

  “Some make more than others… depending on what they’re willing to do.”

  Tanner smiled. “There’s not much I won’t do, and I’m not squeamish.”

  “That’s good to know, and we can use a man with your language skills. Once you’re in the militia, you’ll be given a uniform of sorts, and your food will be free. What’s above and beyond that comes when you earn it.”

  More questions followed concerning the militia’s base and what there was to do there. Tanner and Pullo smiled when Logan revealed that there were women in camp.

  “The militia was started by four friends, two of them had families, and they later attracted other families to join them. There’s a community within the militia with its own school, doctor, and even a few shops. Many of our people are survivalists preparing for a national emergency, such as wide-spread riots or food shortages. If the wors
t happens, we’ll not only be equipped to survive, we’ll be able to defend what we’ve got.”

  “It sounds like a small town in some ways,” Tanner said.

  “It is something like that,” Logan agreed, “and we have over sixty acres. So, gentlemen, what do you say? Are you ready to sign on?”

  Tanner smiled at the man.

  “I think we’ll pass.”

  10

  Say Goodnight, Gracie

  After Tanner turned down Logan’s offer to join the militia, Pullo waited until they were back inside their car to ask an obvious question.

  “Why the hell did you say no, Tanner? Isn’t joining the militia exactly what we wanted?”

  “It is, but think about it, Joe. A group like this must be on the lookout for government agents. If we were too eager it would seem suspicious to them. What would you do if some guy off the street wanted to join the Giacconi family?”

  Pullo considered things for a moment, then gave a single sharp nod of his head.

  “You’re right. There’s just one thing though, what if they don’t ask us to join again?”

  “It’s a risk, and if it happens, I’ll tell Briggs we changed our minds. It’s still better than signing on the first chance we get, like an undercover agent might do.”

  “I guess that means we start hanging out at this bowling alley every night.”

  “We’ll skip it tomorrow. I want to spend the day scouting the area. With a little luck we might even stumble across the militia’s base.”

  “We could follow Logan or Briggs back there, but no, if we were spotted that would mess us up good.”

  “Yeah, so we’ll be patient. We’re planning to kill two members of a well-armed group with men who wouldn’t hesitate to plant us in shallow graves. We need to watch our step, or we’ll be the ones killed.”