“No. I want you running thirty miles in three days. You’ll do twenty again tomorrow, take a day off, then start doing thirty-mile runs.”
“Will you be running with me?”
Cody smiled. “I’ll be with you in spirit.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Seriously though, Henry. Although it will be tough, once you get through it, you’ll be that much closer to becoming a Tanner. Pass this test, and later on the next one, and then it’s just a matter of time.”
“How long between this test and the next one?”
“For me, it was months later.”
“Wow. That’s a long time. Can you give me a hint what it’s about?”
“That would defeat the purpose of the test.”
“I’m tough and in shape, so I’m not real concerned about passing this physical test, but the other one worries me. Is it the most difficult of the two tests?”
“Forget the second test and concentrate on getting in shape for this one.”
Henry wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of his own body odor. “I need a shower, then I think I’ll eat something and go to sleep.”
“That’s a good idea. And eat a lot. You’ll need the calories.”
“What time should I start tomorrow?”
“Eight o’clock, and I expect you to beat the time you made today. The next day you can take a break from running but I’ll be teaching you desert survival tactics.”
Henry grinned as he looked around.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I’m here. This is where all the Tanners have trained, right?”
“Most of us. It was Tanner Three that started this tradition.”
“That’s cool. To know that the other Tanners have been here. It’s historic, you know?”
Cody smiled back at him as he remembered feeling that way as well when Spenser first brought him there.
“You’ll pass the test, Henry. I don’t doubt it for a second. Give the training everything you’ve got and there’s no way you can lose.”
“I want this too much to fail.”
“That’s why it’s a make-or-break test. A Tanner never fails. If you fail at the test, there’s no way you can ever be a Tanner. And there are no excuses or circumstances that will change that decision. Absolutely none. You must pass the test.”
“I won’t let you down, Cody.”
Soulless was in Mexico as well but was far south and east of where Cody and Henry were. He was dressed in a suit, carrying a briefcase, and wore glasses and a beard. He was hoping to give the impression he was in town for business. He was in town for business, and his profession required him to deliver death.
Although he wasn’t fluent in the language, Soulless spoke enough Spanish to get by. His target, A.J. Pirrello, lived in a community of thirty-two hundred. Many of the residents were related to Pirrello in one fashion or another. Pirrello came from a large family. His grandfather had been one of eight brothers, all of whom had married and had children. A.J.’s father had six brothers, and they all had children as well. He had numerous cousins. Some of them were A.J.’s personal bodyguards, while several of his female cousins handled the accounting and administrative sides of his drug empire.
It was two of A.J.’s uncles who got him involved in the drug business. At the time, they had been working for the man who ran the cartel A.J. would later take over. Unlike most young men who entered the business, A.J. didn’t spend his money on fast cars, gambling, or women. A.J. had used his money to buy drugs and make more money. At the same time, he went about creating alliances with other up-and-coming players in the drug trade like himself. He was ambitious, always ambitious, and by the time he made his move to take over the cartel, he had enough allies inside it to limit the amount of bloodshed that took place. Instead of fighting him and defending their boss, most of the cartel’s members welcomed A.J. as their new leader. At the time, he was only twenty-three.
In the four years since then, he had expanded his cartel’s influence and recently took over another cartel’s territory. His competitors knew a threat when they saw one and were determined to kill A.J. before they became the next ones to fall to his ambition. Soulless was in Mexico to make certain it happened.
He spotted A.J. from the window of his hotel after he’d been in town for three days. A.J. was tall and good-looking. He reminded Soulless of an actor he’d seen on a Mexican soap opera. The TV had been on in the hotel bar and the show had been playing. The bartender had changed the channel when a customer asked him to put on a soccer match.
A.J. had been surrounded by bodyguards and there were men on the nearby roofs holding rifles. Despite that, Soulless decided it wouldn’t be difficult to kill A.J., the problem would be trying to get away after doing so.
A shot from a sniper rifle would put the cartel leader down, but afterwards, there would be no chance to get away without someone seeing you. There were two ways in and out of the town, other than walking across an unforgiving terrain of desert. Those exits would be blocked and anyone wishing to pass by would be scrutinized. As a stranger, Soulless would automatically be suspected of being the sniper.
If he tried getting close enough to A.J. to kill him, things would go even worse. A.J.’s bodyguards, who were also his cousins and brothers, were alert, armed, and beyond motivated to keep their leader alive. It was not surprising so many others had failed to kill the man. Soulless would not fail, for he had come up with a plan. To implement it, he would need the help and expertise of someone he had worked with before, the Irish woman who went by the single name of Gwen.
Gwen was an expert in explosives and had connections with many people involved in the international black-market. Soulless had met her twice before and felt an attraction toward her each time. He felt something stir inside him as he recalled her face. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and one he didn’t enjoy. It wasn’t lust, although he felt lust toward her. No, Gwen made him feel something else, a type of desire that made him look forward to seeing her again. She was a good-looking woman, but not anything special. He couldn’t understand why she stayed on his mind.
Soulless tried to ignore it. Nothing could happen between them. If Gwen became his lover, she would know his face and have to die. She was too valuable as a contact to lose. Her expertise with explosives was something that was difficult to find, and sex was not hard to come by.
Soulless left Gwen a message by leaving one in the draft folder of an email account. She responded to him in kind a few hours later by stating she was available to help him, and that she would be traveling to Mexico to see him.
After reading those words, Soulless felt that strange emotion again and realized he was looking forward to seeing Gwen. To combat it, he went to a bar in the city nearest to the town he was staying at and picked up a woman.
The woman took him to her apartment, and they had sex. Soulless hadn’t been with anyone in weeks and didn’t want to meet Gwen while feeling randy. He figured a night with another woman would enable him to control himself better.
The next morning, he killed the woman he’d slept with. She had seen his face, and he had certainly made himself memorable to her, which meant she could identify him. So she wouldn’t suffer, he’d killed her as she slept.
Before leaving the apartment, Soulless made himself breakfast in her kitchen and ate at the small round table she had set up near a window. The window allowed him to have a view of the street below, which was a main avenue. Outside, traffic was thickening, and the pedestrians were moving about in growing numbers. He would be simply one of the crowd by the time he left the building.
A call went out to the fire department twelve minutes after Soulless’s departure. He had not only killed the woman he’d slept with but had also set her apartment on fire by setting the bed ablaze. It was done for the purpose of destroying any DNA he’d left behind, including the sample he had deposited inside the woman.
Soulless stayed in the city and awaited Gw
en’s arrival. Despite the night of sex he’d enjoyed, he found himself still looking forward to seeing Gwen again. She was a woman he had trouble getting out of his mind. He hated that fact, but it was a fact, nonetheless.
Gwen arrived that evening and met Soulless in a quiet bar near the hotel she had checked into. He hadn’t shaved in over two weeks and had a decent beard covering his face, wore sunglasses, and kept a cap pulled down low, so she couldn’t get a good look at him.
Gwen smiled brightly at Soulless and surprised him by giving him a peck on the cheek. Her long hair was loose and hung about her shoulders.
“I was happy to hear from you. By the way, what name are you using here?”
“John Stern.”
“Hmm, John doesn’t fit you, but Soulless does. That job you did in Africa last year killed a lot of people.”
“Thanks to your bombs.”
“I know. I’m not judging you, just stating facts. I don’t give a shit about people I don’t know. Hell, who does? And most of the people I know aren’t worth a damn either. You’re a killer, I get that, and you’re damn good at it, which I guess is why I’m here.”
“It is. I need explosives, and certain unique packaging.”
Gwen signaled for the bartender. “We’ll talk business, but first I want a drink.”
Three drinks later, Soulless had explained his plan to Gwen. When he was done, she just stared at him.
“Is there something you want to say?” Soulless asked her.
“I’m amazed at the way your mind works. I never would have thought up a plan like that. I don’t think anyone else would have either.”
“It should work, and there’s little risk.”
Gwen smiled. “As long as your name isn’t Pirrello.”
“Can you get me what I need?”
“I can, as far as the explosives are concerned, but I’ll have to use an outside source to have the other items made. I’ll also need to visit that town and take pictures.”
“How long will it all take?”
“Are you willing to pay extra for a rush job?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe two or three weeks.”
“I figured that. That means I’ll need to stay in the area for that long.”
“So will I.”
“Why? You could leave and just return when everything is ready.”
“There are two reasons to stay. For one thing, I want to see you in action this time.”
“And what’s the other reason?”
Gwen leaned across the table and kissed Soulless. Ten minutes later they were falling atop the bed in her hotel room.
3
Throwing It All Away
Henry was wasted at the end of his third full day in Mexico. He had run thirty miles in the hot and humid air. His lungs burned with effort as they adjusted to the demands of the area’s high altitude.
Cody ran beside him during the second half of the run. He needed to improve his conditioning as well, as part of his plan to kill the cult leader, Krakoff. He also had work to do in preparation of completing the hit.
On their fifth day in the desert, Henry was taking a break from running so he could rest. Henry was also learning desert survival tactics, such as finding sustenance in the desert. He liked the thorny fruit of the pitaya cactus despite its sour taste. Cody taught him that the stinging nettle plant was also edible, and palatable when steamed, as were other plants.
But, of course, the great concern in the desert was adequate water, which was scarce. Henry was instructed to follow the path of birds, as the birds knew where all the water sources were.
After a lesson, they drove to a nearby town to pick up supplies and a crate Cody had been expecting. It was a package sent to him from Duke in New York City. The package contained items Cody had designed and which were made by Duke’s talented daughter, Lisa.
There were several items in the crate, but the significant ones were straight metal bars with a crosswise extension that swiveled. The swiveling part had two sides. They were connected like pedals on a bicycle. When one moved, so did the other one, only in opposite directions. One end had a protrusion sticking out of one side. Henry held one of the bars up and studied it.
“How does it work?”
“I’m not sure it will,” Cody said. “Let’s go find out.”
Cody had come up with an idea some time ago that he’d been wanting to try. Lawson’s contract on Krakoff seemed a good opportunity to test his idea. To set it up, Cody needed two sniper rifles that were capable of delivering a projectile to distances of a mile or more. One of the rifles would be secured with clamps inside a metal box that Cody had shipped to him. The box was of his design too.
Cody took time using the rifle after it was clamped into position. He and Henry had placed a large metal target a mile away. By trial and error, Cody determined the exact position needed so that a round fired from the rifle would strike the center of the target. Of course, that was dependent on the wind not shifting dramatically.
There were cameras aimed at the target so Cody would have a record of what happened. The video from the cameras could be slowed down and analyzed frame by frame.
Once the rifle was in place and the cameras set up, Cody inserted one of the metal bars into a position in the box that placed it beside the rifle, but not touching it. The protrusion was sitting inside a slot and could be moved along it if enough force was applied. Most of the box itself was made of the same material used in steel-core ballistic armor. The box needed to be tough given the punishment it was about to endure. It would be held in place by straps.
When Cody was certain he had everything lined up and secured, he and Henry took a Jeep and drove it a mile away to a ridge that overlooked the box with the rifle inside it. Cody set up the second rifle, settled behind it while lying down, and sighted in on the box. Or rather, he was targeting a specific area of the box, one where a red dot had been placed.
Henry stood beside him and used a pair of binoculars. He wasn’t trying to view the box; his gaze was set on the target that was now two miles away.
Cody fired and sent forth a .50 BMG round. It struck the red dot on the box nearly at its center. The sound of its impact was lost due to the boom of a second rifle shot. The shot came from the rifle inside the box.
“Yes!” Henry said. “It worked.”
“Let’s go take a look,” Cody said.
They got back in the Jeep and drove to where the box was. The rear plate on the box, the one with the red dot on it, had an indentation that was nearly an inch deep. That was good. It was what Cody had been relying on to make his contraption work. When it was formed by the tremendous impact of the rifle round, the other side, the bulging side of that indentation had struck one end of the swiveling extension on the metal bar inside the box. That caused the extension to move upward and strike the front of the box. The front of the box, which was made from weak material, broke apart. At the same moment, the other end of the swiveling extension struck the protrusion that was set inside a slot along the bar. That piece was forced along the slot toward the rear of the box. The other end of that piece had been positioned inside the trigger guard of the rifle that had been clamped in place. It pressed against the trigger and fired the rifle. In other words, Cody had used one rifle to fire another one. It had worked. Now he needed to know how effective it was.
They retrieved the film from the camera near the target and slowed down the video to see if there had been an impact. There had been, but the second shot fired had struck the target two feet above and a foot to the right of the spot Cody had been aiming for.
Cody was shaking his head. “That’s too wide a margin.”
“Yeah, but it worked,” Henry said. “You pretty much just hit a target from two miles away. What if you were to set up six rifles like this? Think how far you could shoot then.”
“You’d also increase the chance for something to go wrong with every rifle you added. One will be enough if I can
get this to work a little better. I’ll call Duke and let him know I’ll need more boxes made. While you’re out doing your running, I’ll be working to perfect this. Once I do, I’m off to Colorado to fulfill the contract on Krakoff.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Yeah. But only if you pass your test, so train hard.”
Henry grinned. “I will, and I’m going to ace that test. There’s no way I’m going to miss my shot at becoming a Tanner.”
Henry was true to his word and trained with intensity. The next day he completed his second thirty mile run and made it in decent time. He was given another day off after that. Along with resting, he helped Cody practice shooting with the box and the two rifles.
“You should name this box, Cody. Maybe call it the Parker box.”
“If I can perfect it, it’ll remain a Tanner secret until someone else builds one, if someone hasn’t done it already.”
“How are you planning to use this to kill Krakoff? His people will spot the box when they’re on their patrols.”
“I’ll have to camouflage it, along with myself. Then I’ll have to rely on hearing Krakoff’s voice over the loudspeaker to know when to fire. Given the terrain at the compound, I’ll probably need to fire at the box from a position that’s too far away to see Krakoff.”
“And what happens if the round fired from the box misses him?”
“Plan B.”
“Which is what?”
“Infiltrate the compound at night to find Krakoff and kill him.”
“Plan A sounds a lot safer.”
“Oh yeah.”
At the two-week mark, Henry was running the thirty miles much easier and completing in just over four hours. Cody was impressed but decided that Henry needed another week of training.
“Can I take the test after that?”
“I think you’ll be ready then, but I’d feel better about your chances of passing if you could run the thirty miles in less than four hours.”
Soulless (A Tanner Novel Book 43) Page 3
