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

by Remington Kane

  Joe wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and moved the napkin that had been hiding the ring box.

  Laurel’s mouth dropped open in shock and widened still more when Joe opened the box and revealed a huge diamond ring.

  “Before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’m aware I’m moving fast here, but after watching Johnny die when he least expected it, I know that life can end at any time. I’ll be damned if I’m going to die without at least taking a shot at getting you to marry me. So, what do you say?”

  Laurel beamed at him. “Ask me properly.”

  Joe got down on one knee in front of Laurel and held up the ring box. “Will you marry me, baby? I love you more than anything.”

  “Yes. I’ll marry you and I love you too. I love you so much.”

  Joe rose to his feet as Laurel stood, and the two of them kissed and embraced. When Laurel began pulling him toward the stairs, Joe pointed back at the table.

  “What about the food?”

  “It can wait; I want to be in your arms and know that we’ll always be together.”

  “That sounds like heaven to me,” Joe said, and he swooped Laurel up and headed for the bedroom.

  In another part of the city, other plans were being made, plans that involved causing Joe Pullo’s death. Vance was in Michael Krupin’s office along with the young leader of the Russian mob, who was seated behind his desk. Fedor was also present, as Vance told them his latest plan to gain the upper hand in the war.

  “How sure are you that they’ll meet again at that club?”

  “Very sure. I followed one of the men who had attended the meeting and tortured him. The club is closed due to Rossetti’s death and the fact that Pullo is fearful that we might have attacked it while it was full of customers.”

  Krupin grimaced at the very thought. “That’s the last thing I would do. I have enough scrutiny on me now after the slaughter the other day. Killing civilians would really bring down the hammer.”

  “In any event, Pullo is using the place as a headquarters. When he holds his next meeting, it will be a golden opportunity to wipe out the Giacconi’s top men, Pullo included.”

  “How many men will you need?” Krupin asked.

  “Four men. And I’ll also want Fedor with me.”

  Fedor had been sitting on a love seat at the right side of the room, but he stood and walked over to Vance.

  “Why do you want me there?”

  “I’ll need someone who is good with a rifle and I hear that you’re a decent shot.”

  “I’m the best there is, and I understand that you’re a marksman too, but I guess you’ll need me to cover one of the exits from the club, no?”

  “Exactly, although I doubt anyone will make it out alive.”

  Fedor stared at Vance for several seconds, then he looked over at Krupin. “I have to say, it is a sound plan and I see little risk to our men.”

  “Our men?” Krupin said, while raising one eyebrow.

  “As they say here, a figure of speech, but I too keep the men’s concern in my mind, especially after having lost so many of them recently.”

  Krupin made a sour face at those words and drummed his fingers on the desktop as he thought things over.

  The street sounds of a city drifted up from outside the second story windows and they could hear someone shouting for a taxi to stop. The constant hum of traffic only paused when an equal stream of pedestrians needed to cross, as they continued along their seemingly endless journeys.

  After nearly a minute had passed, Krupin nodded once at Vance. “We’ll do it, but Rurik, if this plan fails you won’t get any more chances, understood?”

  Vance smiled. Yes, he understood, and after killing Pullo, he planned to kill Krupin as well and then take control of his empire.

  “Everything will work out, Michael, trust me.”

  301

  Listen And Learn

  Jennifer gazed down a steep drop at the small valley below and saw scores of men moving about.

  There was an actual building, although it appeared to be prefabricated, along with camouflage-colored tents, which were lined up in neat rows, while a structure that resembled a giant birdcage hung from a tree branch, with figures lying inside it.

  It was the cage where the rebels held their hostages and it was about to become Jennifer’s new home.

  Juan Rio had been gazing up at the latticework of pond fronds, rope, and camouflage material that had been rigged between the trees surrounding the camp, placing most of it in the shade, while also obscuring the rebel base from satellite surveillance.

  “I bet this place is hard to find,” Juan said.

  There were men stationed along the trail here. They had encountered them as they walked the last mile of their trek.

  Salt air wafted on the breeze and Jennifer and the other hostages agreed that they were close to the Indian Ocean, and that the base must receive most of its supplies by sea.

  Firman issued a set of orders to his men and the hostages began the short hike into the valley, while wondering if it would become a valley of death.

  Not far away, Tanner returned from scouting ahead and informed Sara that there were men guarding the trail.

  “That’s a good sign, isn’t it? It must mean we’re growing closer to where the camp is.”

  “That’s true, but it also means that our odds of being discovered are greater. We can’t use the guns, or we’ll alert the camp that we’re nearby.”

  “We’ll have to sneak up on the guards and kill them by hand,” Jake said, and Tanner nodded in agreement.

  “How many are there?” Sara asked.

  “I came across four, two pairs of two, but they were scattered over a long stretch of the trail. Once we kill them, it’s just a matter of time until they’re missed, or until they change the guards. I suggest we wait and watch before making a move.”

  Sara shifted from foot to foot as she shook her head in disagreement. “I don’t want to wait. God only knows what Jenny is going through.”

  “Tanner is right,” Jake said. “We should wait and gain intel. That way, we can kill the guards right after they change shifts and allow ourselves the maximum amount of time to get in and out.”

  Sara paced for a moment before speaking. “Okay, as much as I hate to wait another second, I see that you’re right.”

  “There’s something else,” Tanner said. “I think these are only the first few guards, there are probably more of them closer to camp.”

  Sara studied his face. “You have a plan to deal with them?”

  “Yes, I’ll move ahead alone until I reach the camp. After they change the guards, I’ll work my way back to you, even as you two are working your way toward me.”

  “By working, you mean killing, right, hit man?” Jake said.

  “That’s right, Special Agent Garner and I’ll be killing in a cause to free your woman.”

  Jake held up a hand as if to say he was sorry. “I apologize, Tanner. I don’t think we’d have a chance without your help.”

  “You may not have one with me, but I’ll do my best to help you.”

  Sara placed a hand on his arm. “We’ll watch and wait, and after they change the guards, we’ll meet you in the middle.”

  “Kill as quietly as you can,” Tanner said, then he moved into the trees on his left and disappeared.

  “Your attitude toward him has certainly changed,” Jake said.

  Sara gazed at the spot where Tanner disappeared. “I’ve come to see that sometimes killing is necessary, and not just under the law or for self-defense. And there’s no one better at killing than Tanner.”

  “You’re just using him? And what happens when we get Jennifer back, will you try to kill him?”

  “No. Jake, I really have made peace with the man, and I don’t have it in me to hate anymore. I can’t even bring myself to hate the men who took Jenny. I just want her back and then I’ll somehow get on with my life.”

  “It’s go
od to hear you talk that way, and if he helps us get Jennifer back, Tanner has earned a pass on anything as far as I’m concerned. Now come on, let’s get into position.”

  Sara and Jake moved on, as behind them and hidden from view, Tanner moved on as well. Sara Blake appeared to be telling the truth this time and Tanner was glad. After the events of the last few days, it would have hurt him to kill her, and that wasn’t something he could say about many people.

  Tanner moved toward the camp, machete in hand, prepared to do what he did best, as death walked by his side.

  302

  Welcome To Hell

  Firman got down on his knees and bowed before his superior, a man in his sixties who was wearing robes and sandals and had a mane of white hair.

  The man gestured for Firman to rise, and when he looked over at the hostages he made a face of disgust, as if the very sight of the westerners sickened him.

  His name was Raden Soekemi, but he was respectfully referred to as Gus Soe by his subordinates, a name that was uttered only with reverence and respect.

  Raden Soekemi was born the son of a wealthy banker in Jakarta and was raised learning the language of money. The intricacies of money handling such as fractional-reserve banking and hypothecation filled him with boredom, and as a young man, he drifted into the arena of law.

  The rich had power, of that there was no doubt, but the power of the law and the deference given toward lawyers drew him in and he became one of them.

  And as he had learned the secret language and ways of finance at his father’s knee, Raden also learned the ways and language of the law from his professors and went on to practice it for years.

  Having found success as a lawyer, Raden then turned his attention toward becoming a lawmaker, a policy baron, and he went on to learn yet another language and set of customs, the terminology and rules of politics.

  With his power and esteem at a height far beyond any his father had ever attained, Raden became fascinated by the sway that the religious leaders held over the people. Once again, he learned new ways and customs as he reinvented himself, then surprised himself and became a true believer of his religion, and later, grew militant in his beliefs.

  But Raden, who was now the venerable Gus Soe, sought to climb even higher by becoming the leader of a separatist movement, whose true goal was to take power. It was he who had ordered the assassination of President Urray, his guiding hand behind the kidnappings, and his holy wisdom would guide his adopted country of Guambi. It was his belief that someday he would be acknowledged as the country’s leader.

  Raden smiled at Firman. The man was as fanatical as he and was soon to be named his second in the cause. Firman had proven himself worthy, by not only overseeing the assassination of the president, but Firman had also delivered the valuable hostages, as he had promised.

  Raden watched as one of his aides took pictures of the captives, photographs that would be sent to their families as proof of life. It was the only proof that they would ever receive.

  With the photos taken, the hostages became worthless, although Raden would release one or two of them as incentive for the other families to pay.

  When he spotted Jennifer, he eyed her with contempt, for she reminded him of a woman whom he had known in his youth. The woman had been a slut who would have sex with anyone for as little as a free meal, but the witch had always made snide comments about the size of his manhood.

  Raden had killed that woman, quite by accident while in a fit of rage, and had disposed of her corpse with no more thought than he would have given a dead rat.

  He had desired her body, longed to caress her blonde hair, and now the sight of that same color on Jennifer brought back the feelings of inadequacy the wanton woman of his youth had made him feel so long ago. It was not a sensation Raden enjoyed.

  With the photos taken, Firman issued orders to his men. Prendy and the other rebels began herding the hostages toward the cage at the other end of the compound, which hung about a foot off the ground.

  The odor hit Jennifer before they had even drawn near. It was a foulness of feces, urine, and fetid water joined together, and it was emanating from the hole dug beneath the cage. Worst of all was the stench of rotted flesh, and as they peered down into the pit, two corpses were visible.

  Melissa cried as Mrs. Hough gagged, and then the door on the cage was opened. They were all herded up and inside the swaying contraption at the point of machetes.

  There were already four prisoners in the cage, all Australian, three men and a woman, who Jennifer thought looked as if they had been there for months. When they told her that they had only been there two days, she briefly wondered what toll the ordeal was taking on her own appearance.

  There was a tight weave of rope along the bottom of the cage, save for a corner, where one went to do their business, with zero privacy. The waste would fall into the pit atop the corpses.

  “This is bloody inhumane!” Juan shouted. His words rewarded him with a jab in the back from a stick the guards kept on the ground for disciplinary purposes.

  Juan winced in pain, then fell and settled on his ass, while rubbing the place where he was struck.

  One of the men who had already been there when they arrived looked around at the newcomers and sent them a grim smile.

  “Welcome to hell.”

  Later, with most of the men in the camp inside the largest tent and eating a meal, the young rebel Prendy paid the cage a visit. He had just collected money from a bet he’d won and could think of no better use for it than to bribe the guards to give him access to the American girl.

  At fourteen, Prendy was even younger than he appeared to be. So hard had his short life been, that the demanding trek through the jungle had been a huge improvement over his normal existence. His former days had consisted of scrounging for food in the dumpsters of the resort hotels, avoiding violent gangs, and sleeping on the beach at night.

  When Firman first began spouting his beliefs about a God that loved everyone like a father, Prendy thought the man insane. He still did, but by joining up with the skinny man’s cause, he had gained a feeling of fellowship and had been given a gun to hold while guarding the hostages.

  As he approached the cage, Prendy rubbed his crotch in anticipation. He had only been with one girl and she had been a skinny thing of twelve years without breasts. He longed to touch Melissa’s breasts and ached to be inside her, even knowing that if he were caught with her, he would be in huge trouble.

  But he had been nice to her, hadn’t he? He had even fed her, so he hoped she would give in to his desires and not make him have to hurt her. If she did cry out, he’d have to kill her and move on to the tall one, the one with the golden hair. Prendy grinned while thinking of the tall one’s breasts, which were even larger than the girl’s.

  Maybe he would have them both.

  Jennifer saw Prendy approach the cage with a grinning face and watched as he passed something to the two men who were standing guard over them. After looking around furtively, the men came over and opened the cage.

  Prendy pointed at Melissa. If not for the lecherous glint in the boy’s eyes, Jennifer might have thought he was doing her a kindness by removing her from the nightmare that was the cage, even if only for a short time.

  “Something’s not right here,” Juan said, and when Jennifer looked over at Melissa, she saw that the girl was frightened.

  One of the guards gestured for Melissa to come out of the cage, but she shook her head as tears began to flow.

  Prendy spoke to her in a loud whisper, then he unsheathed his machete and entered the cage. When Juan stood up, Prendy swung the machete at him and just missed slicing open his face. Then, he grabbed Melissa by the wrist and began pulling her toward the cage opening.

  Melissa cried and thrashed about, which made Prendy even angrier and caused the guards to look back toward the mess tent.

  One of the guards said something to Prendy and the boy slapped Melissa on the side of her he
ad. The blow stunned her, she fell upon her back, and Prendy reached down and stuck his free hand inside her blouse, to fondle her.

  Juan was red with anger and cursing at Prendy with everything he had, even as a guard was repeatedly poking him in the ribs with a stick. Jennifer feared that the father of four girls was about to lose his life in a vain attempt to save Melissa from rape.

  A glazed look came over Prendy’s face as he felt the girl’s breasts. Jennifer knew then that he planned to rape Melissa, and possibly kill her if she regained her senses and resisted.

  “Hey!”

  Prendy turned toward her with his machete poised to strike, then licked his lips as Jennifer opened her blouse to give Prendy a view of her cleavage.

  “Leave her alone and I’ll go with you.”

  Prendy stared at her, then he reached out and touched her short blonde hair.

  “That’s right, take me and leave her. Don’t hurt her.”

  Prendy jumped down from the cage and gestured for Jennifer to follow, he was so engrossed with the thought of having her that he never noticed Firman leaving the tent and walking his way. No sooner had Jennifer stepped out of the cage to sacrifice herself to save the virginal Melissa, when Firman cried out in anger and called back into the tent.

  Men flooded from the tent, among them their leader garbed in robes. When Firman reached Prendy, he knocked the boy to the ground with a hard slap across the face and let loose a long string of words in his native language.

  The guards were questioned, then escorted away for disciplinary training, which would take the form of a severe beating. Although Jennifer didn’t understand a word that was being said, she knew Prendy was in serious trouble for going against the tenets of his religion, by seeking to have sex with her.

  When Prendy was dragged off, Jennifer was relieved, but then the white-haired man wearing the robes leaned over and spoke into Firman’s ear.