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

by Remington Kane

  The black pants were a bit baggy, but he needed the extra room for the twin holsters he wore on his ankles. Inside each holster was a Ruger LC380, fully loaded and with a round in the chamber.

  Tanner also carried a knife and spare magazines. He had kept the handcuffs in the unlikely event he had to subdue someone without killing them, a situation he doubted he would face, but it paid to be prepared.

  He opened the bathroom door and saw that the caterers had unloaded the food onto rolling carts with collapsible legs. They were headed for the concrete ramp, which sat on the opposite side of the dock from where the stairs were.

  There was a man watching them and Tanner remembered seeing him once before. He had been with Richards in Las Vegas, along with another bodyguard named Gary, when he’d met with Richards inside a Walmart.

  The man was big, but not a brute, and his dark hair was combed straight back, which was an unfortunate choice, because it tended to accentuate his nose, which was large and crooked. Tanner didn’t know his name and doubted the man would recognize him easily with the spiked blond hair after only seeing him once. It also helped that he was supposed to be dead. Still, he would try to avoid him, or else risk being discovered.

  The last of the caterers made it up the ramp, and the bodyguard walked ahead of them as they entered a corridor that led to the service elevator.

  After a minute, the sounds of their footfalls and rolling carts ceased, to be replaced by the squeak of the elevator doors opening. That was followed by the sound of the carts bumping over the gap at the bottom of the elevator’s threshold, and the closing of the doors.

  That’s when Tanner came out of the bathroom and headed for the corridor. It was empty and appeared to have no cameras.

  From what Tanner had seen of the food, it was all neatly displayed and stacked atop round serving trays. It was as the driver had said, they were simply dropping food off.

  Richards wanted the building empty of anyone who wasn’t a part of the Conglomerate, so that they could scheme in private.

  Or was there a darker reason, one known only to Richards?

  Tanner didn’t care what the man had planned; he only cared about killing him.

  He would kill Richards and then Romeo would cease to exist and join Tanner in death, as he moved on to a new identity and a new life.

  However, death would be a part of that new life, or rather, the dispensing of it, because Tanner was a hit man, an assassin, a taker of lives, and would likely remain such until the day he died.

  There was another corridor halfway down the first one and Tanner could see that it led to the building’s lobby and reception area. After removing a gun from an ankle holster, Tanner strode down the corridor and went in search of his target.

  146

  Us Goombahs

  Trent and Gary trudged toward the farm as the rain increased in its intensity.

  They wanted to take the Tim and Madison by surprise, so they walked in from the road after parking the van behind a row of wild bushes.

  Neither man had an umbrella or any kind of rain gear, so they were soaked by the time they were halfway to the house, which sat quite a way back from the road.

  Gary cursed as he tripped over the end of a downed branch and nearly went sprawling atop the graveled driveway.

  “Why the hell is the damn house so far from the road?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Trent said. “Let’s just keep going and stay quiet; they’re probably awake by now.”

  They reached the old farmhouse and saw that it appeared to be devoid of activity, and there seemed to be no lights burning within.

  Gary gestured toward the rear, and they moved along through grass that was becoming soft from all the rain the ground was absorbing.

  Gary peeked inside through the window set in the back door, then turned his head and whispered to Trent. “It’s dark in there; they must still be in bed.”

  Trent whispered back. “Can you get us inside?”

  Gary smiled. “Piece of cake. Look at the lock, it’s ancient, so is the wood around it.”

  Gary gripped the doorknob, pressed a shoulder against the door and pushed, but not with great force, rather, he slowly increased the pressure as he leaned more of his weight against it.

  There was a cracking sound, which might have been loud on most days, but with the steady booming of thunder overhead, it just blended in.

  That sound was followed by a popping noise, and Gary was pulled inside the house while riding the door’s momentum. He was just able to stop it from slamming back against the refrigerator.

  Trent was about to follow him inside when he heard a sound behind him and turned to see the stray that Madison had taken to feeding. The mongrel was drenched from the rain and did not look happy to see them, as she bared her teeth and growled.

  Trent took a step backwards into the house, and that’s when the dog began barking in a strident pitch that not even the thunder could drown out.

  Voices were heard, then there came the sound of someone stirring up on the second floor, followed by the sound of footsteps walking across floorboards.

  “So much for sneaking up on them,” Gary said. He took out his gun and fired at the dog.

  Tanner was nearing the end of the corridor when he saw a line of limousines pull up in front of the building and across the street. It appeared the guests were arriving.

  Tanner carried a set of lock picks. He used them to unlock an unused office and stepped inside just as both elevators chimed.

  Opening the door just enough to see out of, Tanner spied Frank Richards walking toward the entrance with five bodyguards. He then wondered how many more bodyguards were getting out of the limos. That question was answered by a booming voice, as a Chicago mobster named Sullivan Silva shouted his displeasure at Richards.

  “This ‘come alone’ crap is bullshit, Richards. Do you know how many guys would like to put a bullet in my head?”

  Silva entered the building and a beeping sound was heard as he passed through the metal detector near the door.

  “Alone and unarmed,” Richards said. “That was the agreement. Now please, hand over your weapon. I assure you it will be returned when you leave.”

  “Screw that!” Silva said.

  An older man appeared behind Silva and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Sully, we all knew the rules when we agreed to come here. Now, hand over the piece, or you can keep it and Jerry Mags back there can keep his too. You know how fast they say he is with a gun. I’m sure that after all these years he’s forgotten that you killed his little brother.”

  Silva looked over the old man’s shoulder where a slim man with salt and pepper hair was staring back at him with undisguised hatred.

  He took off his suit jacket, unstrapped his shoulder holster, and handed the weapon over to one of Richards’ thugs. The thug thanked him and made him walk through the metal detector again.

  Tanner watched them all enter and saw that only six had brought weapons. All of them were crime bosses and not the corporate types. The bodyguards took turns escorting the guests upstairs in the elevators, but Tanner noticed that their number never dipped below three.

  Three was a manageable number with the element of surprise in his favor, but he knew the true criminal element among the guests would not be fazed and frightened by the sudden violence. They would pick up any weapon dropped by a fallen bodyguard and join the fray. He decided to bide his time and wait for better odds.

  After delivering their charges, the limos departed, and soon there was only one left. Tanner thought it odd that they weren’t waiting around and wondered just how long the meeting was supposed to last.

  When the black Hummer appeared, Tanner recognized it right away as Joe Pullo’s. He also recognized the old man Pullo subsequently helped into a wheelchair. It was Sam Giacconi.

  Shock registered on Richards’ face and Tanner saw something else there as well, it was fear.

  “Sam, my God, thi
s is truly a surprise, as well as a great honor. It’s so good to see you up and about again.”

  Tanner hadn’t seen Sam Giacconi out in public in years but knew the reason why. He wondered why Pullo would drag the old man to a meeting when he didn’t even remember his own name. However, that thought left his mind when Giacconi spoke in a voice that was husky with age, but also sounded strong and clear, by the vitality of its owner’s spirit.

  “Richards, you son of a bitch. Who the fuck told you that you could make decisions for my Family? I put Johnny Rossetti in charge and that boy is going to stay in charge. Nothing against Joe here, but this fucking Conglomerate shit has gone to your head if you think you’re running things. We run things, Richards, us goombahs. If you corporate shits need a reminder of that you’ll get one, sure as hell you will.”

  Tanner smiled at the expression on Richards’ face. He had never seen the man look so flustered, and yet, you could tell by his body language that he was also enraged.

  After taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Richards responded.

  “I hear your concerns and… that’s the purpose for this meeting, to air our complaints and grievances. Now please, let one of my men escort you up to the conference room and we’ll get underway soon.”

  “Have you seen Johnny R?” Giacconi asked.

  “No, and he wasn’t invited.”

  “I invited him, so expect him.”

  One of the bodyguards stepped on the elevator with Pullo and Giacconi, which left Richards with only two bodyguards at his side.

  Tanner removed the other Ruger, and with a gun in each hand, he was about to charge out into the open when a man emerged from a corridor on the other side of the lobby.

  It was Vance.

  “Has there been any word back on the Verona woman and that man, Romeo?” Richards asked.

  “Not yet, sir, but I’m confident that the team I chose was successful.”

  “Fine, and what about Johnny Rossetti?”

  “Rossetti is secured.”

  “You didn’t harm him, did you?”

  “No, as you ordered.”

  Richards laughed like a man who had just received the perfect gift.

  “Everyone and everything is in place, and as a bonus, that old fool Giacconi placed himself in the middle of it all.”

  “When will it happen?” Vance said.

  “I’ll let them prattle on for a while, eat, and get comfortable, and then…”

  Vance bowed his head, as if acknowledging a master at work.

  Tanner watched them all climb aboard an elevator; watched instead of killing, because he needed answers.

  He shut the door of the empty office and leaned back against it.

  What the hell is Richards up to?

  147

  The Faintest Of Smiles

  “Quick, out the window!”

  “What’s going on, Tim?” Madison said, as she stepped backwards out a window and onto a rope ladder.

  The ladder had been installed years ago by the previous owners in case of fire, as a means of escape, and a means of escape is just what Tim and Madison needed.

  “I don’t know, baby, but that was a gunshot and I hear voices downstairs.”

  “Oh God, the rain is so cold. Tim, we need our jackets.”

  “There’s no time, I hear them talking in the hall downstairs. Just climb, climb!”

  Madison moved down the swaying ladder as Tim moved deeper into the room and pushed the dresser in front of the locked door.

  On his way back to the window, he grabbed one of his sweatshirts, which was draped over a chair, then tossed it down to Madison, who had just made it to the bottom. It wasn’t enough to shield her from the rain, but their jackets and hats were hanging near the front door and might as well be on Mars.

  “Put that on. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

  Tim had just gotten into position to climb down when he could make out footfalls on the stairs. He was nearly at the bottom when he heard a crash. It was the dresser tipping over, after the bedroom door had been shoved open.

  With time running out, Tim jumped the last eight feet. The ground was so sodden from the downpour that he felt his sneakers sink an inch into the grass.

  Other than the sweatshirt he had tossed down for Madison to put on, Tim and Madison both wore jeans and T-shirts that they grabbed out of the hamper. The cold rain sent them both to shivering, or perhaps it was the sight of the two faces staring at them from the window.

  Madison gasped. “It’s Al Trent.”

  Tim didn’t know Trent, but he knew the man’s face from the newspaper accounts about the murders he was charged with. He also knew that Trent worked for the Conglomerate, and he assumed that the hood standing beside him did as well.

  They had found him again, found him and sought to kill him, and this time, Tanner was nowhere in sight.

  They rushed to the car, but then Tim realized that his car keys were still in the house, in a bowl by the front door. He had also left his phone behind on the nightstand. Living out in the country, while being on the run, he seldom used it and only kept it by the bed in case Tanner called during the night.

  “We have to run out to the road and flag down a car,” he told Madison, but as they took a step in that direction, a shot rang out.

  They looked over at the house and saw Gary hanging at the top of the rope ladder and aiming his gun at them.

  If they stayed out in the open, they would be killed, so Tim took Madison’s hand and headed past the barn and into the shelter of the trees beyond it, as the two of them ran for their lives.

  Mario stepped from the SUV and looked up toward the sun with his eyes closed, letting it warm his face. To the west, the sky looked as dark and ominous as inevitable death, but where Mario stood, the sun still shined, and life went on.

  His peace was shattered a moment later, as Geary gave him a shove.

  “Where do we dig, Petrocelli?”

  Mario opened his eyes and looked around. They were in a clearing, surrounded by pine trees, and there were local cops and state police with them. They had been there waiting for them as their convoy of SUVs arrived.

  They walked to the other side of the clearing and Mario gazed about, locked his eyes on a tree that had been split by lightning, and walked over to it. He paced off ten steps, looked down, but pointed back toward the tree.

  “Dig there.”

  “There? Beneath that tree, you’re certain?” Geary asked.

  “Yes, dig there.”

  There were four cops from the town present. They walked to the tree and began digging, but before they had dug down three feet, Mario called for them to stop.

  “What’s wrong?” Garner asked.

  Mario looked at him sheepishly. “I remember now, we buried them ten paces from the tree, not directly under it.”

  Geary got in his face. “What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull, Petrocelli?”

  Mario shrugged. “I’m sorry, this is… stressful, and I got confused.”

  “You’d better not be messing with us.”

  “I’m sorry, Agent Geary, really, but I’m sure now, they’re right over there.”

  Geary glared at Mario until she saw him squirm beneath her gaze, then she spoke to the cops.

  “Dig over there now, and if it’s empty, don’t worry. I know just who to toss into it.”

  Mario turned away from her. On his face was the faintest of smiles.

  148

  About That Raise

  Joe Pullo was beaming with pride as he listened to Sam Giacconi make an impassioned plea to return things to the way they were, prior to the formation of the Conglomerate.

  The aged Mafia Don was in good voice and his mind was cooperating, as he cited a list of recent instances of overstepping bounds perpetrated by corporate members of the Conglomerate, instances related to him by Johnny and Pullo.

  Frank Richards sat across from the old man looking impassive, but a ruling mem
ber from the corporate side, a German named Heinz, stood and shouted objections.

  Heinz was sixty, with a big barrel of a chest and a bald head. He was wearing an expensive pinstriped suit, but it fit his large frame poorly and the sleeves were too short.

  “The old ways are dead, this I know, and in my younger years I too was a tough, a gangster, and I know the limitations of such a mind. You need us to run things, the world has become too complicated for savages. Let us lead while you follow orders. In the end, we’ll all grow richer.”

  Heinz’s less than tactful words created an uproar and the gathering became a game of let’s see who can shout the loudest.

  Richards stood, raised a hand and silenced the shouting enough to be heard.

  “Calm down. This is why I called this meeting, so that we could air grievances and straighten things out. I suggest you all have a bite to eat while I go to my office and retrieve some documents that I left on the desk. If you require a restroom, there’s one in the back, on the left.”

  Richards headed for the door with Vance on his heels, as some heeded his advice and walked to the pair of banquet tables that were set before the windows. They were piled high with pastry, breakfast fare, and urns of coffee.

  However, most of the men continued to argue, and their voices drowned out the sound that was made when Richards shut the door. He had punched a code into the keypad to the right of it, and engaged the powerful locks, sealing the room and the fates of the men who were now trapped inside it.

  With a shared smile, Richards and Vance walked off down the corridor and out of harm’s way, as a cadre of bodyguards surrounded them.

  Minutes earlier, Tanner had stepped from the room he’d been in and back into the hallway. When he reached the lobby, he looked out through the glass front doors and saw the caterer’s van drive away. He also noticed that the glass-enclosed security office was dark and unmanned and that the cameras were off. Richards and crew really wanted their privacy.