The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

by Remington Kane

  The screams ended when the sickening thuds began and were followed by moans and a cry of agony. Tanner swung himself back inside and looked down at the pile of bodies, but he couldn’t make out any details because of the dark.

  He exited the building and approached the moaning pile of broken, bleeding flesh with caution, just in case one of them was still able to use a gun.

  Only two of them were still alive, a short muscular kid with greasy hair, and Richie Sullivan.

  The kid with the greasy hair, Tommy, had broken his neck, yet still looked about with wide fear-filled eyes. The punk made no moans of pain and Tanner suspected that he could feel nothing below his neck.

  He rasped out, “No, no, please?” as Tanner placed the gun to his head, but a single bullet silenced him.

  Richie had fared much better. His legs were broken, but he was straining with everything he had to squirm free from beneath the bodies of his men and reach his shotgun, which was lying just a foot shy of his grasp.

  Tanner watched Richie, saw him exhaust himself, then waited to hear his last words.

  “A trick,” Richie said.

  “What?”

  “You… you only beat us because of a trick.”

  Tanner placed the tip of his gun at the center of Richie’s forehead and saw the punk’s eyes cross as he looked at the gun barrel.

  “Now you see it.”

  Tanner fired.

  “Now you don’t.”

  65

  New Guy Vs. Old Perv

  This guy is a prick and a half, Tim Jackson thought, as the supervisor of the cleaning crew glared at him.

  The man’s name was Carl Reese and when Tim showed up twenty minutes late for his new job, Reese spent the next thirty minutes giving him a hard time about it.

  Carl Reese was at least fifty, but dressed like a man thirty years younger, in a pair of tight black jeans and a muscle shirt. He had the arms to go with the shirt, as his biceps bulged with every gesture he made, but his lined face betrayed his age, despite the hair dye and ponytail.

  “You do the toilets tonight, New Guy, and I mean every damn toilet, and God help you if they’re not sparkling when I check them.”

  Reese turned his head to the left and smiled at Madison, who thanks to Tim was now going by the name of Drew Simmons. Drew Simmons was the fake ID that Tim had originally fashioned for Tanner. It was just good luck that the name was unisex. Tim simply placed Madison’s picture on the phony photo ID to make it work for her.

  The three of them were standing together inside a storage room on the 57th floor that held cleaning supplies.

  “You, New Girl, you’ll be hanging with me tonight; it will give you a chance to meet the rest of the crew and to learn your duties.”

  Madison smiled. “Whatever you say, Mr. Reese.”

  “Call me Carl, honey, you and I are going to be good friends.”

  Tim Jackson had to bite his tongue to keep from calling Reese names. Madison was hot, no doubt about it, and he didn’t blame Reese for flirting with her, even at his age, but the man was leering as if he wanted to devour her.

  Tim looked at Madison, thinking he’d see a look of disgust on her face. But no, she was smiling back at Carl Reese.

  Could she possibly like the old perv?

  “Hey, um, Drew, why don’t we meet at break time and talk?”

  Reese glared at him. “She’ll be busy, and who says you get a break?”

  Tim ignored him. He and Madison hadn’t talked much because they were rushed after taking the time to phony up her ID badge. Tim still had no idea why the girl was going undercover in a building her father owned, and he had taken a chance on revealing his own deception to her.

  Each one knew that the other was there for some secret, if not nefarious, purpose, but Tim doubted that Madison would be killed if her real identity were known. The same couldn’t be said for himself.

  “We need to talk more, you know?”

  Madison nodded just a bit. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other sometime, just like we did in front of the building tonight.”

  Tim smiled. She was telling him that she’d meet him in front of the building when their shift ended.

  Reese placed an arm across Madison’s shoulders and guided her out of the storage room.

  “Come on, Drew, New Guy there needs to get busy cleaning the toilets.”

  Tim watched Madison disappear with Reese and said a prayer that she’d keep quiet, then he pushed a cartload of cleaning supplies out into the hall and headed for the nearest toilet.

  66

  It’s Not Nice To Lie

  Merle and Earl had told Rafe Green everything they knew about Tanner, as they drank beer and ate Buffalo wings in a bar near Central Park.

  Rafe had made it clear that he had a grudge against both Joe Pullo and Johnny R for what was done to his brother, and Merle and Earl understood where he was coming from.

  They weren’t big on revenge, but they could sympathize with a man seeking vengeance for a brother, since the two of them were as close as brothers could be.

  After parting company with Rafe, they headed for their room, which was in a motel that catered more to the hooker trade than actual overnight patrons. But the place was cheap and a quick subway ride from Midtown.

  They had just climbed the stairs and were three doors from their room when a man came up behind them. For the second time that night, they were looking down the barrel of a gun.

  “We ain’t got no money,” Merle said.

  The man chuckled. “I can believe that, you look like a couple of losers.”

  A car came around the corner of the building and stopped at the stairs. It was a black limo, and Johnny R’s driver, Mario, got out and opened the rear door.

  The man with the gun tossed his head toward the car. He had the face of a weasel with little beady eyes to match.

  “Get in the car. Johnny wants to see you.”

  Merle was still staring at the gun. It was a big gun, a Desert Eagle.

  “Who?”

  “Johnny R, he wants to know what you know about Tanner.”

  “But we don’t know—”

  The man pointed the gun at Earl’s face and Merle stopped talking in mid-sentence.

  “Maybe he only needs one of you,” the man said.

  “Shit, don’t shoot or anythin’, we’ll go, no problem,” Merle said.

  The man lowered the gun and grinned. “A couple of pussies. Go on, get in the limo.”

  Merle and Earl did as they were told, and once again rued the day they’d met Tanner.

  Sara watched from the rear of the parking lot as the brothers were taken away at gunpoint. The sight caused her to smile, because she was certain it meant they had gained the attention of Johnny R. She turned the ignition key and her car purred to life.

  They would lead her to Johnny R and eventually Tanner would show, as he tried to kill the man. The Carter brothers had served their purpose. Sara wished them no harm, but she cared little if harm came to them.

  She cared little for anything other than finding Tanner and making him pay. She put her car in gear and followed, motivated by an obsession that would likely end with her death.

  Johnny R stared down at the bodies of Richie Sullivan and his crew. He was looking at them from the open fifth-story doorway that at one time led to a fire escape. The fire escape had rusted and fallen away after the building was condemned, and Johnny R had to admit that the drop made for a clever trap.

  That is, if you were stupid.

  The dumbasses, there must not have been a brain between them.

  He stepped back and walked down the filthy stairs, scattering rats, until he was outside, where he stood just yards away from the corpses, and beside Joe Pullo.

  Pullo asked his boss a question. “How did you find them?”

  “Eddie’s girl called and said he got a call from Richie about Tanner. Someone saw him buying smokes at a bar and followed him here.”

  �
�It looks like Tanner found him. It was a trap from the word go. Hell, Tanner doesn’t even smoke.”

  A limo parked at the curb. Mario the driver emerged and from the rear seats followed Merle and Earl. They were led across the debris-filled lot and stood before Johnny R, shaking noticeably in their fear, while looking sick as they stared at the bodies.

  Joe Pullo smiled at them. “Hello boys, it’s good to see you again.”

  Johnny R sighed. “You two aren’t much to look at, but Joe tells me that you would know Tanner on sight. Is that right?”

  “Yes sir,” Merle said, as Earl nodded in agreement.

  “Joe here knows Tanner, but he won’t be at my side most of the time, and from what I hear, Tanner doesn’t stand out in a crowd.”

  “Eyes,” Earl said.

  Johnny R cocked his head. “What was that?”

  “Tanner’s got… different eyes, intense and kinda scary, but yeah, he looks normal other than that.”

  “All right, you boys will hang with me at my club; you’ll be like an early warning system in case Tanner walks through the door.”

  Merle pointed at the pile of bodies. “Did Tanner do that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah.”

  A cry rang out from down the street.

  “Get out of the car!”

  Johnny R said, “Check that out,” to Joe Pullo, but Pullo was already on the move, gun in hand.

  The man who had grabbed Merle and Earl at their motel was shouting, and his words were directed at Sara. He had snuck up on her as she watched the gathering through binoculars, and he was aiming his gun directly at her head.

  “I said get out of the damn car.”

  Joe Pullo aimed at her from the other side. From his vantage point, he could see the gun resting atop the dash, beside her phone.

  “Touch that gun, lady, and I’ll kill you.”

  Sara cursed, knowing she could never shoot both of them or drive away before she’d be shot.

  The other man pulled on the door. “Unlock it, bitch!”

  Tense seconds passed, then a clicking sound came as the door was unlocked. The man ripped the door open and yanked Sara onto the pavement.

  “Easy, Vince,” Pullo said, as Vince grabbed Sara’s purse off the passenger seat. “Bring her over to Johnny and we’ll see what’s what.”

  Merle and Earl exchanged nervous glances when they spotted Sara, but she wasn’t looking at them, she was looking at Johnny R, who stared back at her with an admiring gaze.

  “She’s a looker, hmm boys? But unless Tanner had a sex change it isn’t him, so who are you, lady?”

  The man that had caught her, the weasel-faced one named Vince, read the name off the driver’s license he’d found in her purse.

  “Sara Blake and she was carrying too, Johnny, a Glock.”

  “I’m a reporter,” Sara said. “I work for Street View.”

  Johnny R wagged a finger in front of her. “It’s not nice to lie. I don’t know what you are, but you’re no reporter. You took in that pile of bodies like it was just another day at the office. Are you a cop? Maybe a Fed?”

  Sara said nothing, and Johnny R sighed.

  “We’ll take her to the club and see if anybody comes looking for her. In the meantime, we’ll give her time to think things over.”

  They went back to their vehicles and drove off; unaware that they had been watched the entire time they were there.

  Tanner stepped out from behind the burnt carcass of an old Chevy van that sat atop cinder blocks.

  He had recognized Sara and had no doubt that her presence there meant she was still hunting him.

  Merle and Earl’s appearance surprised him, and he wondered what the brothers were up to.

  Joe Pullo had been no surprise. Pullo had worked for the Giacconi Crime Family practically since birth and he would do so until the day he died.

  He thought about Johnny R and wished he had brought a sniper rifle along, but maybe that was for the best. With any luck, Johnny R would kill Sara Blake and save him the trouble. If so, he’d better do it soon, because Tanner planned to kill him, but first he would deal with Joe Pullo.

  Tanner walked past the bodies of Richie Sullivan and his crew, then slipped away like a shadow at dawn.

  67

  That’s Some Way To Start The Day

  Rafe Green sent a friendly wave toward the desk clerk at his hotel, before heading out into the last of the night to run and clear his head.

  After stretching, Rafe took off at a steady pace down West 53rd Street. It was still dark, but dawn was lighting the eastern horizon with just the touch of a glow.

  It would be a warm day, but there was a pleasant breeze and the humidity was low.

  As he ran, Rafe thought about the previous day.

  He had gathered good intel from talking with Merle and Earl Carter, and he was almost certain that Joe Pullo and his crew were the men who had hurt his brother.

  When he returned to Johnny R’s strip club, he saw that Pullo had left, and he decided that he would return the next day and stake the place out, then follow Pullo until he led him to the rest of his crew.

  And after that? He didn’t know.

  What he would like to do is kill the men for damn near killing his brother, who at last report was still in a coma.

  However, Pullo was connected to the Conglomerate, an organization that Rafe had assumed was an urban legend. But the Carter brothers said that Frank Richards was a member of the Conglomerate. Frank Richards, who was a key executive and large stockholder of MegaZenith, the corporation that owned the lumber mill his brother worked for, Reynolds Lumber.

  And then there was Tanner, reportedly a hit man who had done work for the Conglomerate but was now at war with them.

  Tanner would be an excellent ally to have, but he might make a better patsy. If Rafe killed Pullo and his men, their deaths would be attributed to Tanner and no repercussions would befall Rafe and his family.

  He could get vengeance for what was done to his brother and head back home without having to look over his shoulder.

  Rafe was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the two figures moving in until they were almost upon him.

  Pullo? his mind said. But no, he could see that the men were just a couple of young punks.

  The man in front of him was black, while the one behind was white. Both men were around twenty, scruffy-looking, and carrying cheap guns.

  The black man held his weapon at his side, pressed against his thigh, his finger just outside the trigger guard.

  Dawn was still minutes away, but this was New York City and even at an early hour, there were hordes of traffic passing by, as well as the occasional pedestrian or bike rider. Pointing a gun at someone could draw the attention of an off-duty cop.

  The white man at the rear had kept his gun tucked in his waistband, but it was he and not the other man who said why they were there.

  “Give us your wallet and phone, bitch.”

  The words had just left the man’s mouth when Rafe shot his hands out, gripped the front of the black man’s shirt, and pivoting, tossed the man into his partner.

  The two fell to the pavement in a tangle of arms and legs. Before they could recover, Rafe brought a foot down on the black man’s wrist, causing him to scream and release his gun.

  Meanwhile, the white man was struggling to free the gun from his waistband, but his partner had landed on top of him and trapped his arm.

  When he saw that Rafe had picked up his partner’s weapon, he panicked and caused his own gun to discharge while still in his waistband.

  “Oh God nooooo....” the man cried, and a red puddle formed beneath him.

  His partner leapt up, his pants and shirt wet with the white man’s blood. After making an incoherent noise in his throat, he darted into the passing traffic, causing a cab to swerve wildly. Five seconds later, he was gone from sight as he ran down a side street.

  Rafe
looked back at the man on the ground and saw blank eyes staring up at him. The man was dead just that quick.

  Dying is a hell of a way to start your day, Rafe thought.

  He took a step back to avoid the spreading puddle of blood, wiped his prints off the gun he had taken from the black man, then dropped it atop the white man’s body.

  As he ran toward the glow in the east, Rafe thanked God for another day.

  68

  Tasty

  Tim Jackson smiled at Madison as she came out of the MegaZenith building, while behind him the sun rose above the East River.

  Madison returned his smile with one of her own, but Tim thought it looked forced.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, but that Carl Reese gives me the creeps.”

  “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

  “He… touched me… one of my breasts, and after that I made sure I was never alone with him.”

  Tim’s face darkened as his hands balled into fists. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Madison grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him, then she gave Tim a bright smile.

  “Reese doesn’t matter, but it’s very manly of you to want to protect me, especially when he’s twice your size.”

  Tim thought about that, calmed down, and grinned back at her.

  “He probably would have broken me in half, huh?”

  Madison pulled him along. “I’m hungry, let’s go have breakfast.”

  Tim stopped short, causing Madison to stumble. Once she caught her balance, she stared back at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I… there are people after me. If they caught me when we were together, they might hurt you too.”

  Madison moved closer and looked into his eyes. “Does this have something to do with my father?”