The TANNER Series - Books 1-3 (Tanner Box Set)

by Remington Kane

  Jerome was black, athletic, thirty-seven, and the married father of three children. He had worked at Reynolds Lumber since college, when he put in full-time hours during the summer.

  Carter Reynolds, the former octogenarian owner of the mill, had been one of Jerome’s best friends, despite the difference in their ages, but after Carter’s death two years ago, everything changed at Reynolds.

  Carter’s widow, Arleen, had promoted Jerome from Office Manager to General Manager, but Arleen died of a stroke just a month after her husband’s death, and the mill passed on to a grandson who sold it to an out of state corporation.

  Jerome and everyone else at the mill were given a steep reduction in pay. Those that complained were told to leave, while those who stayed were worked harder.

  That was when Jerome called his older brother, Rafe. Rafe Green was a former army MP who became a union organizer. With his brother’s help, Jerome was determined to unionize Reynolds and make it a good place to work again.

  The New York City corporation that owned the mill fought against unionization, but a large majority of the workers voted for it during an official and State-monitored election.

  When Jerome asked for a meeting with management to discuss contract talks, the new owners demoted Jerome instead, and that caused the rest of the workers to walk out and form a picket line.

  The strike had been going on for three weeks, and in that time, there were two minor skirmishes between the strikers and the security professionals hired to protect the property.

  Tonight there would be a third skirmish, one instigated by a different breed of professional, the professional thug.

  Jerome was watching the gate with two other men to keep out replacement workers. Although he was their unofficial leader, he volunteered to work an overnight shift like everyone else.

  He was thinking about the trip to the zoo he planned to take with his kids later, when the five men in ski masks came out of the woods swinging baseball bats.

  Jerome used his sign and knocked one of the men off his feet, but was hit from behind by another man. The blow from the bat caught him just above the left elbow, and he felt his entire arm go numb.

  After that came the blows to the head, followed by pain, followed by blackness.

  ***

  Inside the building, a college freshman named Robin Murphy was gawking at the security monitors, while wincing in sympathy at the beat down he was watching.

  Robin was a handsome boy with dark hair and green eyes, tall, but with a thin frame.

  “Oh Jesus, they’re going to kill those guys.”

  For all its brutality, the violence didn’t last very long and when the three union workers lay broken and unconscious, Robin roused himself from shock and reached for the phone to call for the police and an ambulance.

  Before he could even touch it, it rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Robin, this is Mr. Trent from New York, do you remember me?”

  “Yeah,” Robin said. He remembered Al Trent. Al Trent had arrived in a limo and was wearing a suit worth more than Robin’s entire wardrobe, so yeah, he remembered him. He also remembered wondering how a man only a year or two older than himself had made so much money and become so important,

  “You’ve had trouble there tonight, yes?”

  “Yeah, five guys just beat the crap out of the men who were picketing.”

  “I see and have you called anyone yet?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t call, it’s being handled, but what I do need you to do, is to open the gates wide. We have new workers coming in.”

  “Scabs?”

  “Strikebreakers, men who appreciate the chance to work,”

  “Oh, all right, but you’re sure an ambulance is coming, because man oh man but those guys took a beating.”

  “Did you see who beat them?”

  “Not really, they were dressed in black and wore masks.”

  “Well then, it could have been anybody, and to answer your question, yes, an ambulance is on the way, in fact, three of them, but nevermind that, just go open the gates, and Robin?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Turn off the camera at the gate for an hour or so, if anyone asks, it malfunctioned.”

  A long moment of silence passed and then Robin asked a question.

  “Are you telling me to erase what happened, the beating?”

  “Not at all, the police need to see that footage, but I am telling you to turn it off now.”

  “For about an hour?”

  “Exactly,”

  Robin reached over, hit a switch, and the gate camera cut off.

  “I just shut off the camera, Mr. Trent.”

  “Good man, and remember one more thing, I never called tonight.”

  “Okay, but you’re sure the ambulances are coming?”

  “I guarantee it, now go open the gates.”

  The ambulances had arrived by the time Robin got the gates open. They scooped up Jerome Green and his companions, U-turned in the gravel lot, and rode off just as two large trucks appeared. The trucks were following a Black Hummer, and stopped at the gate when the Hummer’s driver paused to speak to Robin.

  The driver had a New York accent and he sent Robin a grin. Robin had seen the man before but didn’t realize it, because at the time, the man had been wearing a ski mask and wielding a bat.

  “You talked to Al Trent, kid?”

  “Yeah and he said new workers were coming, is that you guys?”

  The man and his four companions laughed and one of them slapped the driver on the shoulder.

  “Hear that Joe, you could have a new career.”

  The driver smiled and talked to Robin again.

  “Nah kid, the new workers are in the trucks. Once they’re inside, lock those gates.”

  Robin nodded that he understood and the small caravan entered.

  When the men in the trucks got out, Robin noticed two things about them. They were all Chinese and they all looked scared and desperate.

  The driver of the Hummer walked over and gripped Robin’s shoulder. He was about forty, with average looks, but Robin could tell by the man’s grip that he was strong, and when he spoke, his eyes never left Robin’s eyes or even blinked.

  “When the cops come, tell them what you saw and give them a copy of the security tape. We’ll be in that building towards the back with the new workers, don’t mention us to the cops or anyone else, got it?”

  Robin nodded and then followed it with, “Yeah,”

  “Good, and here’s a little something for you.”

  The man stuffed money into Robin’s shirt pocket and walked away.

  When Robin saw that he had been given a thousand dollars, his eyes grew wide.

  He stared after the man with a sick feeling in his stomach, while wondering what the hell he had been dragged into.

  CHAPTER 3 - How much did he eat?

  Tanner took Tim Jackson to a 24-hour truck stop in Bordentown, New Jersey and the two of them talked over cheeseburgers.

  Jackson was 23, white, of short stature and genius IQ. He had been a hacker since the age of eleven and had used his skill for both fun and profit.

  That all ended when he inadvertently accessed one of The Conglomerate’s offshore accounts.

  That was nearly a year ago, and in that time, The Conglomerate had searched for him, trying to figure out who it was that reached through the Internet and dared to rob them.

  To that end, they employed their own hackers, and three weeks ago, Tim Jackson, AKA Rom Warrior, became known to The Conglomerate.

  Skilled at disarming run-of-the-mill alarm systems, Jackson evaded the first man sent to kill him by breaking into a building and using on-site security cameras to stay out of reach and escape. That proved useless tonight with the five-man team, who could cover all exits and if not for Tanner’s interference, Jackson knew he’d be a dead man.

  “I want to thank you again for saving me, Tanner, but I am curi
ous about why you did it. You say you want me to steal info for you, what kind of information?”

  Tanner looked at Jackson with admiration. The kid had come within minutes of dying and still ate enough for a man twice his size. He had three cheeseburgers, onion rings, French fries, a chocolate shake and two pieces of rhubarb pie. That appetite was a good sign, he would need nerve to do what Tanner wanted him to do.

  “I want you to go undercover,” Tanner said.

  “Undercover? Where?”

  “At MegaZenith, in New York City,”

  Jackson squinted at him.

  “You’re not a cop, so are you a spy?”

  “I’m what you would call a hit man.”

  Jackson laughed, raised his milkshake to his mouth and then stopped moving, as he studied Tanner’s face.

  “Shit, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  Tim Jackson put down his milkshake and leaned back in his seat, to ponder over Tanner’s revelation.

  Tanner gave him time to think things over and gazed around the truck stop. It looked like a slow night, as less than a dozen customers were present and most of them were seated at the counter, where a flirtatious waitress with large breasts held court. She seemed to be addressing most of the men by name and Tanner guessed that they were regulars, such as truckers that drove the same long distance routes week-to-week.

  Tim let out a sigh and Tanner brought his gaze back to him.

  “If you were going to kill me you would have done it by now, so what is your game?”

  “The Conglomerate wants me dead, but I plan to make that too expensive for them. If you can get into MegaZenith and get what we need to blackmail them, they’ll be forced to leave us alone.”

  “What is it you’re after?”

  “Their books, they likely call it something else, but they must keep records of their financial transactions, their real financial transactions, and once we have that, we’ll have them.”

  Jackson had been slurping his milkshake through a straw as he listened, but Tanner’s words caused him to cough and sputter.

  After wiping his mouth with a napkin, he spoke to Tanner in a measured tone.

  “I don’t know how computer savvy you are, but what you want is impossible. If those records exist, you can be certain that they’re protected by high-level encryption and that’s something that even I couldn’t break.”

  “You could if you had enough time though, couldn’t you?”

  “Maybe, but it could take years to break such encryption and even then it would be sheer luck,”

  “Luck would have nothing to do with it; by going undercover at MegaZenith you might gain access to information that can help you break their encryption.”

  “Let’s say you’re right, but that also means I’ll be going inside a place where the order to have me killed came from, what if I’m recognized?”

  “You’ll be hiding in plain sight; they’ll never connect you to your false identity.”

  “Still, they want me bad enough to send five guys after me; they won’t stop until I’m dead.”

  “That’s true, but you’ll also be put on the back burner soon.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Tanner smiled without warmth.

  “I’m about to become their top priority.”

  CHAPTER 4 - The Sharpe sisters

  In the SoHo district of Manhattan, Sara Blake entered the storefront office of an independent newspaper called, Street View.

  The weekly paper began as a blog written by two college students who were sisters, Emily and Amy Sharpe.

  The Sharpe sisters had a taste of fame and success years earlier when they were the first to report on a blockbuster story.

  A friend of theirs mentioned that she thought her boss was crooked. The boss in question was a well-respected man with an honorable history who seemed beyond reproach. This man managed a hedge fund worth over twenty Billion dollars.

  The Sharpe sisters went back to writing their daily blog that dealt with Wall Street, and which specialized in giving a financial world-view from a twenty-something perspective.

  Their friend returned to them in tears one day with the news that she had been fired. Apparently, her boss had heard that she was spreading rumors and sullying his reputation.

  When the friend opened her purse and produced several documents she had copied from her employer’s files, the Sharpe sisters realized that their friend was telling the truth.

  They went with the story on their blog and lit a firestorm in financial circles, and by the end of the day, they were neck deep in threats of lawsuits and defamation charges by the fund manager’s attorneys.

  The sisters then posted the documents their friend had supplied them with and all hell broke loose on Wall Street.

  The SEC, the FBI, and every major news outlet became involved. Within a week, the fund manager was vilified and in cuffs, while the Sharpe sisters became celebrated and admired.

  That was eight years ago.

  Since that time, Street View had become just another financial blog limping along, but it had also enabled the Sharpe sisters to eke out a living in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

  ***

  Emily Sharpe looked over at her sister, Amy, and then back at Sara Blake.

  “Would you say that again please?”

  “I said I’d like to buy Street View and that I’m willing to keep you on as managing editors and contributors.”

  “But we’re not selling,” Amy said. Like her older sister, Amy was a dark-haired beauty with blue eyes and a thin, but shapely, figure. Both women were unmarried, although Emily was divorced after a brief marriage that occurred during college.

  Sara smiled at the sisters.

  “I have information that will blow the financial world away, but it’s an emerging story and I may need your help in developing it fully.”

  “Are you a journalist?” Emily asked.

  “No, I’m a former FBI agent; however, I did minor in journalism in college.”

  “Just how much were you willing to pay?” Amy asked.

  Sara mentioned a figure as well as the salary the sisters would receive, and Emily and Amy exchanged another look as their eyes widened. They then asked Sara to excuse them as they retreated to a corner of the small office to talk.

  The offices of Street View had once been a boutique that specialized in handbags. It was a narrow space a dozen yards deep, with a bathroom and closet in the rear, beside a door that led to an alley where deliveries were off-loaded.

  There were two desks towards the back that faced each other, while in the front was a reception area with several chairs, a coffee table, and a sofa. It was this area where Sara was meeting with the Sharpes.

  The sisters returned and sat across from Sara.

  “That’s a very generous offer,” Emily said, “But I’m afraid we’ll have to pass.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “We don’t want to be employees ever again,” Emily said.

  “I see, but you would still be running things.”

  “We like being in control and we did found this paper, well, we founded a blog, but it became a weekly newspaper as well,” Amy said.

  “I think I could make Street View a force again,” Sara said, then added, “No offense,”

  “No offense taken,” Emily said. “The glory days of Street View are obviously behind us.”

  They grew quiet as Sara considered their words.

  “I have a second offer. Let me buy in at forty-nine percent, while you each keep twenty-five and a half, that way, you’ll maintain controlling interest and I don’t have to pay your salary.”

  “That’s a better offer,” Emily admitted. “But we couldn’t get by on half of what we make.”

  “I understand and I won’t take any proceeds until the business generates a net profit that’s double what you currently make.”

  “Are you serious?” the sisters said
in stereo.

  “Yes I am.”

  The Sharpe sisters excused themselves again and when they returned, Emily extended her hand to Sara.

  “We accept, send us a formal offer under those terms and we’ll pass it on to our lawyer to look at.”

  “All right, but I want to move fast on this, very fast.”

  “This story you say you have, can you give us a hint?”

  “I’ll just say this; the underworld and the financial world have been getting cozy.”

  “You have proof of this?”

  “No hard evidence as yet, but I uncovered this in my former role as an FBI agent.”

  “This is dynamite, isn’t it?” Amy asked.

  “Yes and it will attract attention, does that frighten you?”

  The sisters grinned.

  “Hell Sara, we live for it.”

  CHAPTER 5 - The Brothers Dim

  Brooklyn, New York

  Hours later, Sara watched as Merle and Earl Carter wandered among the cars in the parking lot of a supermarket.

  It was the third parking lot she had followed them to and while she at first thought that they were searching for a particular model of car to steal, she soon realized that they were looking for an easy car to steal, one where the owner had left the vehicle unlocked and the keys inside.

  That told her that they had no skill as car thieves, but it also told her that they were persistent. She had been filming them from her own car and when Earl signaled to his older brother, she knew that they had at last gotten lucky.

  She started her engine and moved towards their position slowly, while keeping the camera trained on them. After Merle joined his brother and they backed their stolen prize out of its parking spot, she put the camcorder down and blocked their exit by driving directly at them.

  Earl avoided a head-on collision by slamming on the brakes and the two brothers glared at her through the windshield of their stolen car.

  When Merle recognized her, he turned to his brother and said three words.

  “She’s a Fed.”

  Sara pointed back at the parking space the boys had just pulled out of and with a sigh, Earl backed the vehicle into it. Whether or not, the car’s absent-minded owner would have returned and realized the vehicle was facing the other way was anyone’s guess, but the brothers left the car with the keys in it and trudged over towards Sara.