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

by Remington Kane

  Madison, who had been watching Reese, alerted Tim of their opportunity, and as she kept watch for Reese’s return, Tim attempted to plunder Richards’ computer files.

  After powering the computer on, a sign-up screen appeared and asked for a password.

  Tim had questioned Madison extensively about her father’s life in an attempt to guess what he would use as a password. The likelihood that he could access the computer on site was almost nil, given the constraints of time, but with Madison’s intimate knowledge of the man, he hoped to do so.

  If he could download Richards’ files and leave the computer intact, it would give him and Tanner a huge advantage, in that they could possibly gain access to the Conglomerate’s network without their being aware of it. But if Tim had to take the hard drive with him, it would alert them within hours.

  Madison seemed certain that her father’s password would have something to do with her late grandmother, a woman her father worshiped, but whom Madison never cared for much. Her grandmother hadn’t like Madison’s mother, and had let her feelings be known at every opportunity.

  After wiping his damp palms on his jeans, Tim typed in the name of Richards’ late mother, Christine.

  The computer beeped, informed him that his input was wrong and reminded him that he had only two more chances to enter the correct answer, or be locked out.

  Madison stuck her head in the door and Tim looked up with a start, thinking her appearance meant that Reese was on his way back.

  Madison smiled. “Any luck?”

  “Her name didn’t do it and if I had any sense I would just rip out the damn hard drive and get the hell out of here with it. The odds of me guessing right are astronomical, even with your help. He could just be using a random alpha-numeric sequence of some sort; the password doesn’t have to have any meaning to him at all.”

  Madison shook her head in disagreement. “Daddy likes to keep things simple. It’s why he always has an assistant like Al Trent at his side. He lets them worry about the details and minutia. The password would be simple, I know it.”

  Tim ran a hand through his hair. “All right, I’ll try again, but please go back and watch the elevator. We don’t need Reese finding us in here, and what’s that bag in your hand, garbage?”

  “I emptied the shredder.”

  “Why? Anything in there would be in a thousand pieces.”

  “I’ve always been good with puzzles, now get back to work.”

  Madison threw him a kiss and returned to the hallway.

  Tim watched her go, then stared at the screen and typed in the name of Frank Richards’ childhood pet, a pug named Sparky, who Madison said Richards had mentioned often over the years.

  WRONG ANSWER - ONE ATTEMPT REMAINING

  Tim stood, walked around the desk once and sat back down to take his last shot.

  It’s the mother. Madison says her father is a mama’s boy, so it has to be the mother.

  Tim typed in the name that Frank Richards called his mother until the day she died.

  MUMSY

  The sign-on screen disappeared, and the desktop came up, bringing with it a background picture that shocked Tim. It was a picture of Madison, or at least it would be if she were fifty years older. The background picture was a photo of Frank Richards’ mother, a woman who must have looked remarkably like Madison in her youth.

  Tim muttered, “Mumsy? What a mama’s boy,” and then he went to work draining every shred of data from Richards’ computer.

  86

  No Justice, No Peace

  Sara and Tanner stared at each other for ten seconds before Sara broke the silence.

  “I’m still breathing, so either you want to talk or you’re waiting for me to beg for my life. If it’s begging you want, you’ll be disappointed.”

  “Place your purse on the table and walk over here,” Tanner said.

  Sara did as he said. Her gun was in her purse, but she knew it might as well have been absent for all the good it would do her.

  After walking into the living room, she stood ten feet from Tanner and felt the tension drain from her shoulders when he lowered the shotgun.

  Tanner was dressed in black from head to toe and still wore the bulletproof vest, which had been marked by slugs in several places. The long-sleeved shirt beneath it had a hood attached and it hung down his back like a mane, while behind him, on an arm of the sofa, was a trench coat and hat.

  “There’s blood splatter on your clothes, been working late?”

  “I watched Johnny R’s men capture you last night, and yet here you are, safe and sound. Does that mean you’ve joined the Conglomerate?”

  Sara searched Tanner’s face for deception. “Brian said that the Conglomerate was more myth than truth and that the corporate side was being used by the mob.”

  “That may have been true at one point, but it’s more like the reverse now. Frank Richards runs the Conglomerate in New York and he’s also the man who ordered Brian Ames’ death.”

  “The CEO of MegaZenith? I heard that before and found it hard to believe, but why are you asking me about this?”

  “Curiosity. How did you get away from Johnny R?”

  “I had help, those two brothers.”

  “Merle and Earl Carter?”

  “They were helping me to find you.”

  “So that you could kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve found me.”

  Sara said nothing and the two of them stared at each other again. This time it was Tanner who broke the silence.

  “I don’t want to kill you, Blake, but I will if you keep coming.”

  Sara moved toward Tanner until she was standing before him, screaming up into his face.

  “You might as well kill me now, you son of a bitch, because if it’s the last thing I do I will see you dead!”

  Tanner moved the shotgun between them and placed the barrel under Sara’s chin, pushing her head back even more. Her gaze never wavered, but she trembled.

  They stood like that until Sara felt the muscles in her neck cramp from the pressure.

  The shotgun moved away, only to come crashing down on the side of her head.

  Sara moaned once, dropped to the floor as if devoid of bones, and rolled onto her back.

  Tanner gazed down at her with cold eyes, not seeing a beautiful woman, but an enemy.

  “You’ve been warned.”

  87

  So They Keep Telling Me

  With Joe Pullo’s crew gone, Johnny Rossetti was forced to go to his bench.

  However, Gino Tonti was no minor leaguer, but rather a man who had been Sam Giacconi’s enforcer.

  Tonti was sixty-eight, still fit, and had been in charge of placing men to act as bodyguards at the various drug dens, massage parlors, and gambling establishments. Gino Tonti was also the man who mentored Joe Pullo.

  Although Gino hadn’t pulled the trigger on anyone in over twenty years, he had killed many in his youth. He also knew Tanner on sight. After handpicking six of his best men, he was determined to track Tanner down and kill him.

  They assembled in a machine shop in the Bowery that Gino owned and that manufactured cheap guns and homemade silencers on the side.

  Gino looked at the six young men before him and wondered what they were feeding kids nowadays. The six all stood a head taller than Gino and were wide as linebackers.

  Like Tanner, they were dressed all in black and wore vests. Each man carried a semi-automatic pistol and spare magazines, and three of them had spent time in military war zones and lived to tell about it.

  They weren’t afraid of Tanner, they were eager to bag him, because they knew that by doing so, their stock would rise within the Conglomerate.

  “All right, you all have the new cell phones I gave you and here’s how we’ll play it. I’ll take Tony and Mike and work midtown. Al and Brenner stay in this area, while Marzo and Bobby will head uptown. The second we get a sighting of the bastard, whoever’s closest to T
anner tracks him down while the rest of us converge.”

  One of the men spoke up. He was Tony, a handsome man with a cleft chin. Gino had known him since he was a boy.

  “Where was he spotted last, Gino?”

  “The upper east side, but a pimp was knifed near Times Square. The pimp is still alive, so I don’t think it was Tanner.”

  While running a hand over his thick white hair, Gino gazed from face to face and saw a look of fierce determination on each man.

  “Tanner thinks he’s invincible, but he’s wrong. By morning, we’ll be bringing Johnny his head.”

  The men cheered loudly and patted each other as if they were about to play a rugby match. They were ready, pumped, and eager to kill.

  They filed out into the parking lot and were headed for their cars with keys in hand, when a shadow to their left moved.

  Tanner opened up with the Atchisson assault rifle, killing the first two men with head shots, while knocking another on his back with a hit to the chest.

  The remaining men returned fire, but Tanner was positioned behind an industrial dumpster filled with metal scraps, and their shots weren’t making it through to the other side.

  Two more men died, but then Gino dropped flat and fired round after round into the cinder block Tanner stood on and caused it to crumble. Tanner fell sideways, to lay atop the parking lot. He nearly lost his grip on the shotgun.

  Gino fired a shot at Tanner’s face before needing to reload, but it missed and ricocheted off one of the dumpster’s iron casters.

  Tanner rolled to his left, as the remaining two men joined Gino down on their bellies. Tanner let loose with a volley of five shots, wounding Gino, killing Tony, but missing the third man. However, blood splatter from Tony’s wound blinded the man temporarily, giving Tanner time to move again.

  The man swiped the blood from his eyes, even as he fired blindly at the place where Tanner had been. The shotgun empty, Tanner removed a Glock from a side holster and killed the man with three shots.

  Gino’s weapon had flown away when Tanner wounded him in the right arm, severely injuring the limb below the elbow, but Gino still had a knife in an ankle holster. He tossed it with his left, while saying a prayer.

  Tanner grunted in pain as the knife embedded itself in his thigh. It was in over an inch deep and quivering like an arrow. It could have been worse. Gino had been aiming for his throat.

  Tanner stood, pulled the knife free, and felt a warm, wet stickiness flow its way down and into his boot. He picked up the shotgun and limped over to stare down at Gino.

  “I figured Johnny would call on you, Gino.”

  “I should have stayed out of it at my age, but he’s the boss.”

  “That’s a nasty wound,” Tanner said. He tucked the shotgun under one arm and took off his belt, then secured it tight around Gino’s upper arm.

  “Keep pressure on that or you’ll bleed to death.”

  Tanner walked past him, his limp noticeable but minor. Gino called to him.

  “You’ll never win this, Tanner; it’s just a matter of time.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me,” Tanner said, and then he scooped up a set of keys from the ground and drove off in Tony’s ride.

  88

  Half A Homo And A Sweet Piece

  Tim finished erasing any sign that he had accessed Richards’ computer and rejoined Madison in the hallway.

  When she spotted him, she raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

  “Did you get in?”

  “I did, and I got everything. It’s all here on a data stick and I also sent it to a cloud storage site, now comes the hard part. I have to break the encryption.”

  Madison grabbed him and kissed him on the lips.

  “You’ll do it, I have faith in you.”

  “Thanks, but it’ll take a miracle. I tried to explain that to Tanner, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “What do we do now, sneak out?”

  “No, let’s finish our shifts, and in the morning, we’ll tell Reese that we decided to quit. I think if we just left all of a sudden it might raise suspicion.”

  When they stepped on the elevator, Tim placed his foot against the door so that it wouldn’t slide shut.

  “Do your thing,” he told Madison.

  Madison made a call. Downstairs in the security office, the phone rang, and a male voice answered.

  “Security.”

  “Hi, I was looking for Mr. Reese, is he there?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Okay, sorry to bother you.”

  “No problem.”

  While Madison talked to the security guard, Tim shut down the automatic loop that showed the corridor outside Richards’ office to be empty. If the guard was looking at the monitor for that camera, he might notice a slight gap in the picture, but by Madison calling, Tim hoped it would distract him.

  The feed on the camera went back to normal just as the door closed on the elevator. Inside the ground floor security office, the guard noticed nothing amiss.

  Madison stayed on the elevator to ride to a lower floor, while Tim got off and headed to a supply closet. He would gladly scrub toilets until it was time to leave, knowing he would never have to see the place again, or Carl Reese.

  Just as he thought of the man, Reese appeared.

  “Dyer, how are those shitters coming?”

  “I’ve still got an entire floor left, but I’ll get it done.”

  “Make sure you do and while you’re doing that, I’m going to supervise the new girl.”

  “She’s got a name, you know?”

  “She’s got a great ass too,” Reese said and slapped Tim on the shoulder, causing it to go numb.

  Tim grimaced, rubbed at the ache, and headed for the freight elevator with fresh supplies.

  Carl Reese watched Tim go and then made his way to his tiny office, which was a converted storage closet.

  After settling behind his desk, he thought about Tim and smiled.

  He had discovered that Tim and Madison were phonies only by a fluke of luck.

  He’d been called to the corporate headquarters of the cleaning services company he worked for, which was in Southern New Jersey, for of all things, mandatory sensitivity training.

  Reese hadn’t been singled out but was one of a group of supervisors. He resented it all the same and thought the training was a bunch of bullshit.

  After sitting through a film and taking a quiz, he talked to a friend who worked in the personnel office.

  When he mentioned Madison, whom he knew as Drew, his friend, a man named Eric, looked blank.

  “We haven’t hired any newbies in weeks.”

  “What do you mean? There are two of them, a half a homo named Tim and a sweet piece of ass named Drew,” Reese said, thus revealing that the sensitivity training had no effect whatsoever on him.

  When Eric checked the computer, they found the records that Tim had placed in their system.

  “Here they are, but how? I process all of the new hire paperwork for the entire company and I never did this.”

  Reese smiled. “You’ve been hacked.”

  Eric scratched his head. “I guess, but who would hack into our system so that they could get a job scrubbing toilets?”

  “Corporate spies, that’s who, they don’t give a shit about us; they’re after something at MegaZenith. Listen, keep this to yourself, there’s money here somewhere and I’m going to get a piece of it.”

  Eric agreed, for a piece of the action, and Reese returned to the city.

  Tim and Madison had been planning to drug Reese, but little had Madison suspected that Reese had the same fate planned for her.

  His plan had been to slip her something at break time, play the concerned supervisor, and escort her home so that he could have his way with her. However, the scent of money derailed that plan.

  Reese sat his feet up on a corner of his desk and wondered just what it was that Tim had stolen from Frank Richards’ computer.

/>   Whatever it was, it would soon be his to take.

  89

  The Guy From Die Hard?

  Sara awoke on her living room floor just before daylight. Her head ached and when she tried to stand, she vomited.

  She finally stood, only to fall onto her sofa, and when she touched the side of her face she felt dried blood, which had run from a wound beneath her scalp.

  Tanner. Why didn’t he kill me?

  She stood once again, and the room swam before her eyes, but she made it to the table by the door where she’d left her purse.

  The thought occurred to her that she should check her apartment and be certain that Tanner had gone, but she knew he had left, and besides, it was an effort just to make it back to the sofa.

  “I have a concussion,” she murmured to herself and realized she needed to see a doctor.

  Once she had her phone in hand, she called for an ambulance.

  “You fucked up, Tanner. You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

  Merle and Earl both startled awake from the pounding on the door of their motel room.

  The brothers had only been asleep for a short while, after spending all night at the club, watching the door for Tanner.

  “Shit, who’s that?” Merle called.

  “It’s Mario, guys, Johnny Rossetti’s driver. Johnny wants you two back at the club right now.”

  Merle crawled out of his bed as Earl sat up in the other one. When Merle opened the door, Mario grinned at him. He was a fat man, forty-one, with a handlebar moustache.

  “All hell broke loose last night, boys, and it’s all hands on deck. You got five minutes to get ready and then we’re going to the club.”

  Earl came over to the door while scratching his privates. “What happened? Tanner?”

  “What else? Johnny’s ready to go ballistic. He’s also called an early morning meet-up with some Conglomerate dude. I think they’re gonna pull out all the stops.”