[Tanner 16.0] To Kill a Killer

by Remington Kane

  Rosalia’s demeanor brightened as she smiled and relaxed.

  “I like this man, Emilio; he talks sense. I’ve told you many times that pig Bruno Allende can’t be trusted.”

  “Quiet, Rosalia, and put on a robe before this man decides he wants to do more than talk.”

  Rosalia walked over to stand before Tanner, she looked up into his eyes and then took a step backwards.

  “Ooohh, this man has power, but he’s not evil. He would never force a woman… nor need to.”

  Emilio sighed, grabbed a pink robe from the foot of the bed, and handed it to Rosalia.

  She kissed him on the cheek, put the robe on, and walked to a seating area to the left of the balcony entrance.

  Tanner put away the gun and walked over with Emilio, who sat beside Rosalia in a loveseat. As Tanner settled across from them in a chair, Rosalia took Emilio’s hand and leaned against him, as she studied Tanner.

  “Why do you want to kill Bruno Allende?” Emilio asked.

  Tanner explained that Bruno had a whorehouse located in a nursing home and that he also suspected he was running drugs out of there. He could tell that this was all news to Emilio, who had grown angry as the story progressed.

  “I’d kill him myself, except for one thing,” Emilio said.

  “What’s that?” Tanner asked.

  “Bruno is the brother-in-law of Maurice Scallato. If Scallato comes out on top, he will kill me.”

  “What makes you think I won’t kill you?”

  “You might, but not without a reason. If you were that type of man both Bruno and I would be dead right now.” Emilio gave Rosalia’s hand a squeeze. “What do you think?”

  “Tanner will kill Scallato,” Rosalia said, and said it with a certainty that brooked no disagreement.

  Emilio rose with effort from the loveseat and paced a bit. After placing his hands on the back of the seat, he sent Tanner a single nod.

  “Bruno Allende is yours. Do you need help finding him?”

  “No, he’s probably still camped outside my hotel with his men waiting to ambush me.”

  “Not his men, Tanner, my men.”

  “When I take Bruno, I may have to kill some of your men. I’ll try to keep the numbers down to a minimum.”

  “There’s a rumor that you once single-handedly killed twenty men. Is that true?”

  Tanner stood.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, but there is one man I will kill, and his name is Maurice Scallato.”

  “Call me if you need assistance,” Emilio said, and recited a phone number.

  “Why would you help me kill Scallato?”

  “He and Bruno Allende are family. His death would make me feel safer.”

  Tanner walked toward the balcony.

  “I’ll leave the way I came in. And oh, Degussa?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you hear that I’ve been killed don’t believe it until you hear I died twice. I may need to fake out Scallato.”

  Emilio laughed.

  “Tanner versus Scallato, I wish I could sell tickets.”

  Tanner looked at Rosalia and she sent him a wink, then, he disappeared into the darkness from which he came.

  30

  Look Behind You

  While Tanner followed Bruno and talked to Emilio Degussa, Sara had followed Jacques Durand.

  Sara was disheartened by the discovery that Durand had been working for Scallato all along. She liked the man, despite his obvious dislike for Tanner. And perhaps it was ego, but Sara thought Durand’s animosity toward Tanner was spawned by jealousy over her.

  Durand wanted her, although she was half his age, and she couldn’t say that she wasn’t attracted to him as well. But not anymore, not if he were trying to kill Tanner, and was likely unconcerned for her welfare as well.

  Sara had been so lost in thought that when her phone vibrated, it startled her, and a cry escaped her lips. After stopping at a light, she saw it was a text from Jacques Durand. He said he knew that she was in Genoa and asked if he could meet with her, preferably alone.

  When Sara typed back a reply inquiring when and where, Durand gave her the address of a hotel along with a room number. Then, Sara agreed to meet with him.

  Now that she knew where Durand was headed, Sara could take the time to send Tanner a message and tell him what was going on.

  Be careful! Came his reply, along with the info that he was about to abduct Bruno and get information from him. Sara typed back, You be careful! Then, Give them hell!

  When she drove again, she sped some, and reached the hotel in time to see Durand park his car. Sara abandoned her vehicle in one of the dozen empty handicap spots by the front door and walked into the lobby.

  She was still wearing the disguise she’d been wearing earlier and looked twenty years older. She had brought one of the shopping bags in with her and pretended to be rummaging inside it as Durand joined her by the elevator. When a talkative young couple came over and joined them, Sara was glad. Jacques Durand had been an Interpol agent, and from all accounts, an exceptional one. She wasn’t certain that her disguise would fool him if he were to give her his undivided attention.

  When they reached the floor that Durand’s room was on, Sara stepped off the elevator and went left while Durand went right. After turning her head and seeing Durand disappear around a corner, Sara walked back past the elevator, peeked around the corner, and saw no one.

  Thinking that Durand’s room must be one of the first ones along the corridor, Sara moved down the hall while checking numbers. She was looking for room 758, and soon realized that it must have been in the direction she had been heading after leaving the elevator. But if that were true, then how had Durand disappeared so quickly?

  No, she must have remembered the room number wrong. Sara had taken out her phone to double-check the room number when she felt something hard press against her back.

  It was followed by a voice speaking in French-accented English.

  “You remembered the number correctly, Sara, and I would know you even if you had donned a burka.”

  Sara turned her head to find Jacques Durand smiling at her. She wondered if he would still be smiling when he handed her over to Scallato.

  Tanner clamped a gloved hand over the mouth of a young thug while jamming an eight-inch knife between the man’s ribs from behind, then twisting the blade.

  The man’s youthfulness gave him strength and endurance. Tanner had to stab the punk three more times and keep a tight hold over the screaming mouth that gnashed at his hand. Two minutes passed before the man’s legs gave out and then Tanner had to angle him away from a row of metal trash cans. If those were kicked, the noise would bring the others running.

  When it was finally over, Tanner dragged him behind a dumpster, and had to flex his hand to dissipate the tension in it.

  Tanner was taking the long and now bloody black coat off the thug when he spotted the tattoo on the man’s neck. It was a Fasces symbol, which displayed an axe in the middle of a bundle of rods. It was an ancient symbol meant to signify strength in unity. It was most notably used as a symbol in the twentieth century for the Italian fascists, led by Benito Mussolini. The Fascist Party ruled the former Kingdom of Italy from 1922 to 1943.

  There were still pockets of believers of Fascism in the modern world, but they were few and far between. Tanner wondered if the twenty-something thug had been a true believer or just thought the tattoo looked cool. Whatever the reason, he would wear it forever.

  A tweed cap went with the coat as well as a Walther PPK with a walnut grip. The gun was fully loaded and in excellent condition, and possibly had collectible value. Tanner thought the neck tattoo a poor choice no matter the reason behind it, but the kid had style when it came to clothes and weapons.

  He trudged back with his head down and the cap pulled low. Both hands were thrust inside the pockets of the coat, with the Walther jammed into the right pocket, and the blade in the left.

  One o
f the two other thugs who were hanging out with Bruno laughed as Tanner approached. They were leaning back against their car, which was parked behind Bruno’s Porsche. From what little Tanner could see of Bruno, it appeared that he was on the phone and having a serious conversation, since there was a lot of hand waving going on.

  The laughing punk made a comment.

  “Angelo, I thought you had gone off to take a leak, but you were gone so long it must have turned into a dump.”

  The other man laughed along, then added.

  “What’s the matter, boy? Are you worried about going up against a guy like Tanner? Don’t be, he’s just another man, and they all die easy.”

  Tanner raised his chin off his chest to reveal his face.

  “Actually, Angelo died harder than most.”

  The man opened his mouth in shock and Tanner shoved his blade into it with so much force that the tip was protruding from the back of the man’s neck. The Walther followed. It was pressed against the forehead of the other man and he froze from the contact. The first man was gagging on the knife, which Tanner still gripped with his arm held out straight and rigid. The man was grabbing Tanner’s wrist with both hands, but the strength in the fingers was ebbing rapidly. When the hands fell away, the knees buckled, as the man’s spine had been severely damaged, if not severed. He lay on his right side at Tanner’s feet, moaning softly, as blood flowed around the knife.

  Tanner turned his attention to the other man, who had been wise enough to stay calm.

  “Make too much noise and you’ll join your buddy in the morgue.”

  The man’s eyes flicked downward.

  “He’s not dead,” he whispered.

  Tanner gave the knife handle a kick and the man on the ground fell over onto his back. The moaning soon stopped, as did the man’s breathing.

  The other man was vibrating with fury, but he kept his hands still and stared into Tanner’s eyes. He was no kid, and close to fifty.

  Tanner ignored the hateful glare. He had work to do. With the gun keeping the man compliant, Tanner searched him. He found a gun, a wallet, but no keys.

  “Where are the car keys?” he whispered.

  “In the car,” the man hissed, then asked. “Is that Angelo’s gun, the kid with the neck tattoo?”

  “Yeah.”

  The man’s eyes crossed at an upward angle as he took in the gun.

  “I thought so, and you’re Tanner?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So I’m a dead man no matter what, is that it?”

  “I just want Bruno over there. Who is he talking on the phone with?”

  “A guy named Bianchi. Some bums found him tied up in a warehouse an hour ago.”

  Tanner almost smiled, he had thought Bianchi would have been found much earlier.

  “What’s your name,” Tanner said.

  “Giovanni.”

  “Do yourself a favor, Giovanni. Go to old man Degussa and tell him you just found out that Bruno was cheating him by running his own whorehouse out of Bianchi’s nursing home.”

  “You’re letting me live?”

  “If I never see you again.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Start walking away, nice and easy.”

  Giovanni did as ordered, but he soon transitioned to running.

  Tanner shrugged out of Angelo’s bloody coat, tossed away the tweed cap, but kept the gun. After removing the keys from Giovanni’s ride, he threw them up on a roof.

  In the Porsche, Bruno was so involved with his conversation with Bianchi that he never noticed Tanner until the assassin climbed into the car beside him. Bruno looked over at him, looked away, then let out a shriek of fright as he looked back again. Tanner smashed the Walther onto the crown of Bruno’s head and the man slumped down in his seat, dazed, and with his eyes fluttering.

  Tanner winced. It was a pity to employ such a first-rate gun on a third-rate head. Tanner used a zip tie to bind Bruno’s wrists together behind his back, followed by a second one to secure his left ankle to the base of the seat.

  A voice came from the phone. It was Bianchi. Tanner found the right buttons to transfer the call to the car’s Bluetooth and spoke to Bianchi as he drove away.

  “Tanner? That you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Is Bruno dead?”

  “If I were you, I’d worry about myself.”

  “I’ll do what you want. I, I didn’t know who you really were.”

  “I like your attitude. Now listen carefully, Bianchi, this is what I want you to do.”

  31

  Shoot Me Now!

  Sara silently cursed her carelessness. She assumed she was about to be taken hostage, or perhaps even killed, by Jacques Durand.

  “You might as well shoot me now, Jacques.”

  “Shoot you?”

  “With the gun you have pressed against my back.”

  “Turn around,” Durand said, as the “gun” withdrew.

  When Sara turned, she saw that Durand was holding a bottle of liquor.

  “Wine?”

  Durand made a noise of derision.

  “Not wine, champagne, remember, I am French.”

  “What’s going on? Why did you sneak up on me?”

  “You’re the one wearing a disguise, mademoiselle.”

  The elevator chimed its arrival and several people stepped out.

  Durand took off down the hallway.

  “Let’s talk in my suite.”

  Sara followed, confused by Durand’s demeanor. While she followed, she moved a small gun covertly into a front pocket on her pants. It was a pistol that Tanner had given her, and she hoped that she wouldn’t need to use it.

  Durand unlocked the door and went immediately to the phone to call room service. Once he had them on the line, he asked that caviar and a set of champagne flutes be brought to the room.

  After hanging up, he turned to Sara and gave her an apologetic look.

  “They say it will be twenty minutes. I should have remembered to bring flutes.”

  Sara removed her wig and glasses, then placed them atop the coffee table. The room was a suite that opened onto a sitting area, but down a hallway, she could see the corner of a large bed.

  “Why the champagne, Jacques?”

  “To celebrate, of course. But tell me, Sara, why did you and Tanner make me believe you had left Europe? I learned today that you had been here all along.”

  Sara ignored the question and asked her own.

  “What is it we’re celebrating with the champagne?”

  “I have an informant who will lead Scallato into a trap. Once Tanner kills Scallato, you’ll no longer be in danger.”

  “And who is this informant?”

  “Bruno Allende.”

  “I know of him.”

  “I’m sure you do; Tanner has threatened to kill him by tomorrow night if he doesn’t get in contact with Scallato.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Bruno and I met earlier tonight.”

  Again, Durand confused her, this time by admitting he knew Bruno. Perhaps he had realized they’d been seen together and come up with a plausible explanation.

  “So why is Bruno willing to give up Scallato by leading him into an ambush?”

  Durand shrugged grandly as both shoulders practically reached his ears.

  “The man fears Tanner. Personally, I’d be more concerned with Scallato. But even Tanner will be able to kill Scallato once we spring our trap.”

  Sara removed more of her disguise as she shed the jacket of her pant suit.

  Durand sat on the sofa and asked Sara to join him there.

  “I’d rather stand, but tell me, what is this trap you’re talking about?”

  “It’s simple. Scallato trusts Bruno, so when Bruno tells him that they need to meet in a certain place at an agreed upon time, the Sicilian will go there.”

  “Okay, but what’s the reason he’ll give Scallato for the meeting?”

  �
�He’ll convince Scallato that he can set up Tanner, but that they need to work out the details. If Scallato looks into it, he’ll know that Tanner and Bruno have already clashed and that Bruno wants Tanner dead too. When Scallato shows up to talk with Bruno, Tanner will be hidden nearby in a sniper’s nest and kill Scallato. Scallato has no reason to think Bruno would betray him. They’ve been friends since childhood.”

  “It might work, but if Scallato grows suspicious and starts hunting for Tanner at the meeting site, it could turn into a shootout at the O.K. corral.”

  Durand raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t understand the reference.”

  “I’m just saying that if Scallato is nearly as good as Tanner he may smell a trap, then Tanner may lose the advantage.”

  “Tanner will still have time to set up at the site, while Scallato will be given only hours to prepare. If he conceals himself wisely and perhaps rigs a few booby traps, Scallato will be at a huge disadvantage.”

  “That’s true, and where is this site located?”

  “Bruno will call me tomorrow with the details. He has to find the perfect place, somewhere secluded.”

  Sara nodded as she studied Durand. He was so convincing, and even had a reason for meeting with Bruno.

  “Do you hate Tanner, Jacques?”

  Durand considered the question, then held up two fingers close together.

  “Perhaps a little,”

  “Why?”

  “You two are lovers, yes?”

  “Yes, but only recently.”

  “Then let’s call it envy.”

  “Do you hate him enough to betray us?”

  Durand studied her face for a moment, then spoke, as he bent over to tie his shoe.

  “What are you saying, Sara?”

  “Tanner thinks you betrayed us, but I’m not sure what to think.”

  “Let me help you to decide,” Durand said.

  He straightened up from fiddling with his shoelace and held the gun he kept in his ankle holster.

  Inside the front pocket of her pants, Sara’s finger tightened on the trigger of her gun.

  Bruno regained his senses after Tanner ended the call with Bianchi.