“Was he with a man and a woman?” Tanner asked, trying to get things back on track.
The maid turned to face him again. “He was here with Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”
Tanner showed her Soulless and Gwen’s photos again. “These people?”
“No, the Millers are older, and Mr. Miller was in a wheelchair.”
Tanner switched back to Elliot’s photo. “Are you certain it was this man you saw?”
“Is his name Elliot? That’s what Mrs. Miller called him.”
“Yes, that’s his name. You’ve been helpful. Thank you,” Tanner said. She hardly heard him. She was back to staring and smiling at Henry.
“An old man?” Durand said. Tanner had called him to tell him what they had found out.
“Soulless has been masquerading as an old man in a wheelchair and Gwen as an old lady.”
“There’s news on the boat they have. It’s named, Bombs Away, and was registered under a name that looks like it’s a phony. Knowing the name of the boat does us no good. They’re smart enough to change it. However, there’s more news concerning the men who were killed.”
“What about them?”
“They were local hoodlums. They worked for a man named Marcello Silva. We reached out to the police there. They say Marcello is offering a reward for anyone who finds that boat and the people on it.”
“I wonder if he knows that he’s looking for Soulless, or if he’s just mad that someone killed his people.”
“Who knows?”
“I’ll know soon. I’ll have a talk with Marcello. Do you know where I can find him?”
“I don’t. But we can make calls and find out. Good work by the way. It looks like you’ve nearly tracked down Soulless.”
“He was a fool to shoot those men, but he probably couldn’t help himself.”
Durand laughed. “We’re talking about Soulless. We’re lucky he didn’t blow up the entire marina.”
“I’ll call you when we learn something more. In the meantime, see what you can do about getting us a boat, something fast that can cover a lot of range. Once we find out where Soulless is, Henry and I will go get him.”
“I’ll do that, and I’ll also join you there. I want to be there when you kill the man. He needs to pay for all the monstrous things he’s done.”
“He will,” Tanner said. “He will.”
Gwen had taken the boat in a southeasterly direction toward Greece. When a small island came into view late in the afternoon, they decided to stop there to get fuel and supplies, such as paint, to change the boat’s name.
There are approximately three thousand islands in the Mediterranean Sea, including the two island nations of Cyprus and Malta. Many of the tiny islands have no name, or if they have been named, few know it.
This island had green hills and a small community of less than five hundred. Elliot had been staring at those hills as they’d grown closer, and he had come up with a plan to escape.
They had told him he would be allowed off the boat so he could help them carry the supplies. That meant he wouldn’t be cuffed or restrained in any way. He would run, run for the hills, and he would lose himself amid the trees.
Elliot didn’t know if Gwen and Soulless would bother searching for him, but if they did, he assumed they wouldn’t devote much time to it. He wasn’t as valuable to them as he’d once been, since Soulless was almost fully healed. It also didn’t matter that he knew what they looked like. Once he’d slipped their photos to the police, their faces had been in every newspaper.
The only reason they had to keep him around was as slave labor, and he was sure Soulless looked forward to killing him. Elliot thought that if he could stay hidden for an hour they would give up and leave the island without him.
Why not? He didn’t know what their plans were or what name they had decided to use when they renamed the boat. He did know they had been pretending to be old, but Soulless had grown weary of the disguise and no longer bothered with it.
Gwen docked the boat with an expertise that told Elliot she had been around watercraft for a while. Soulless had already uncuffed Elliot while making his usual threat to kill him if he tried anything. Elliot nodded obediently and followed him and Gwen off the boat.
He was to stay with Soulless when the boat was refueled. While that was happening, Gwen would be shopping for food, gear, and paint. When she was ready for Elliot to help lug the items back to the boat, she’d text Soulless, and Elliot was to join her inside the store.
They were fueling up at the end of a dock. The store was a hundred feet to the right along a boardwalk once you left the pier.
It looked as if there were only a few yards between the entrance to the store and the corner of the building it was housed in. Elliot planned to run around to the rear of the building and make it up into the hills.
He hoped Soulless would stay with the boat. Given how far away he would be and because there were other people around, Elliot didn’t think Soulless would start blasting away and try to hit him from the dock. Elliot knew he wasn’t the fastest runner, but he could run faster than the limping Soulless.
If Soulless decided to come with him to the store when Gwen was ready, Elliot would give Soulless a shove, then run. The broken bone had healed, but Soulless’s right leg was still weak.
Although the man was lightning fast with a gun, Elliot was sure he could knock him off-balance and make it around the corner of the building before the assassin could get back on his feet and pull out and aim his weapon. Once he was out of sight, he’d keep the building between them until he could lose himself among the trees. After that, he’d have sweet freedom again.
Soulless had gassed up the boat while wearing a black baseball cap and sunglasses so he wouldn’t be recognized. When Gwen sent a text saying it was time for Elliot to help her, Soulless told him to go to her.
“And remember, I’m watching you.”
“I know,” Elliot said, and there was a note of resignation in his voice, while inside he felt like laughing. Soulless was letting him go on his own.
Elliot made himself walk slowly off the pier despite the urge to run. As he neared the entrance to the store, he put out his hand as if he were about to reach for the knob, then broke into a run and headed for the corner of the building as fast as he could.
He wondered if he were about to be shot and what it would feel like, then he was at the corner and running around it.
I did it! I’m free!
Elliot approached the next corner at a full sprint and saw that the border of the trees was about eighty feet away. He risked taking a look over his shoulder and saw no one.
At the corner he heard the sound of voices. There were two women back there taking a break from work and talking. They paused their conversation to look at him. No. There were three women. Gwen was also there. She was walking out a rear door and looking his way.
Elliot kept going, but when he looked back again, he saw Gwen take a gun from her purse. She didn’t point it at him. She was aiming it at the head of one of the women, who were unaware that Gwen was standing behind them.
Elliot kept running while staring at Gwen. He knew what she was threatening, what she was telling him.
Run away if you want to, but these women will die, and it will be your fault.
Elliot’s paced slowed, then stopped, and he leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, as tears filled his eyes. He had been so close to getting away.
Gwen stuck her gun in her purse and kept her hand on it. When she walked past the women, one of them jumped because she was surprised to see her. The woman spoke Italian to Gwen, but in an accent that might have been Greek.
“Miss. I’m sorry but there are no customers allowed back here. Is that man with you?”
Gwen answered her while smiling at Elliot. “Yes. He belongs to me.”
Elliot trudged over to Gwen and she told him to head back to the boat. Elliot looked over at the women as he walked away. They had no idea ho
w close they had come to dying. He almost hadn’t stop running.
When they were back on the boat and underway with a full tank and the supplies they needed, Soulless paid Elliot a visit. The first punch knocked the breath from Elliot’s lungs, and the second blow split his bottom lip open. The punishment continued until unconsciousness claimed Elliot. He welcomed the onrush of the blackness, for it was a reprieve from what his life had become.
Nario had been put to work in the club so he could pay back his uncle for losing his gun. Marcello had him emptying garbage cans and cleaning up the storeroom. On one of his trips out the back door to dump bags of garbage, Nario lowered the lid on the dumpster and turned to see a man staring at him.
The guy had strange eyes that Nario felt were looking right through him. Standing behind the man was another man. He was taller than the first man by about an inch, much younger, and had a beard.
“Do you work for my uncle?” Nario asked.
“Is your uncle Marcello Silva?” the man with the strange eyes asked.
“That’s right. If you’re here for the meeting, you should have entered through the front.”
“Why don’t you take us to your uncle.”
Nario nodded. “Follow me.”
They passed through the kitchen where hamburgers were frying on a grill, and there was a guy chopping up vegetables and tossing them into a pot of boiling water. Two other men were seated at a large wooden table. One was talking on the phone and the other was taking a cleaver to a plucked chicken. They all wore the white aprons of kitchen workers.
Nario pushed through a set of swinging doors and into the club area. After taking a few steps down a corridor, Nario turned left and there was the bar. His uncle was standing at the front of it and addressing a group of men who were seated at tables and drinking wine. When Marcello saw his nephew, and the men with him, he asked a question.
“Who are they?”
“They’re two of your guys. They said they were.”
“We never said that,” said the one with the strange eyes, “you just assumed it.”
Nario started sputtering an apology to his uncle and Marcello told him to go back into the kitchen. When Nario was gone, Marcello walked over to the men and looked them both over before speaking to the older one.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Tanner.”
Tanner could tell by the widening of Marcello’s eyes that he understood who he was. A murmur had also begun among the men assembled, as they too had heard of Tanner.
Ask the average person who he was, and they would look at you with a blank expression or shrug. Go anywhere in the world and put the same question to someone in the criminal class, and there was a good chance they would know whom you meant.
Marcello recovered from his surprise and went back to stand in front of the bar. “What is it you want?”
“I want Soulless. I hear you’re looking for him too.”
“Let’s say that I am, so what?”
“I’d like you to help me find him. If you hear anything, you’ll give me a call and tell me what you know.”
Marcello laughed and spoke to his men. “Do you hear this asshole? He comes into our club and thinks he can tell me what to do. Tanner, you and your friend can go fuck yourselves.”
Marcello’s men laughed, cheered, and echoed their boss’s sentiment. Tanner waited until they were quiet before he spoke.
“I want Soulless. I don’t care about you and your gang, but I’m told you have connections that can help me. I’m willing to pay for your help.”
“How much?” Marcello asked.
“A hundred thousand euros. But for that, you need to tell me where Soulless is.”
“A hundred thousand? The reward for Soulless is much more than that.”
“You can have that too. I don’t care. I’m offering you a good deal, Marcello.”
It was a good deal, and Marcello knew it, but he had lost status in the eyes of some because Franco and the others had been killed and nothing had happened to their killer. If there was even the appearance that he let Tanner come into his club and tell him what to do, one of his rivals might get the idea he was weak and ripe to be replaced.
“Take your deal and shove it up your ass, Tanner. I don’t take orders from you and I don’t need your money.”
“Take the money and agree to help us—or I’ll force you to help us.”
“Force me? Are you threatening to kill me? Do you see how many men I have here?” Marcello said, then he stopped to take a head count. “…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. I’ve got seventeen men here and they would all love to beat the shit out of you and your friend.”
“They can’t. It wouldn’t happen if you had twice as many men.”
“You can’t shoot them all, Tanner.”
“I won’t need a gun,” Tanner looked at Henry, “and neither will my friend.”
Henry nodded once, telling Tanner that he was ready if they wanted a fight.
Marcello hopped backwards onto the bar, swung his legs up and over, and jumped behind the bar, before shouting to his men.
“Kick their asses!”
The men in the front of the group rushed forward with five of them going for Tanner and three headed for Henry. Tanner disabled two of them with strikes to their throats as a third man tackled him. Tanner hit the floor and heard the man who had grabbed him grunt in pain. As he was falling, Tanner had brought up a knee, the man fell onto it and took the blow to his gut. Tanner rolled the man off him and the guy took the legs out of a thug nearby, so that he fell too.
Before Tanner could stand, someone tried to bring a foot down on his face. Tanner grabbed the foot with both hands and twisted it until the man lost his balance and fell against another of the attackers.
Making it back to his feet, Tanner saw there were two men on the floor near Henry. Henry was twisting the arm of a thug behind his back. The man screamed in pain then was propelled forward into one of his friends who had a knife. More knives appeared then, along with short clubs, as if a signal had been given.
Tanner had known they would bring out weapons. There was no such thing as a fair fight.
“Use your gun if you have to,” Tanner said to Henry, while elbowing a man in the face and kicking another one in the knee.
“I don’t need it,” Henry said. But being threatened with a knife had pissed him off. The next man to charge at Henry had a club. He wound up on his back as Henry used the skills he had developed studying Krav Maga. He then flipped the punk over and dislocated the shoulder connected to the hand holding the club.
Tanner decided that Henry had the right idea and began inflicting serious injuries. He kicked one man in the side so hard that the snapping of his ribs could be heard above the sounds of the melee.
One of the men had a knowledge of martial arts. He landed a kick on the side of Henry’s head and Tanner saw his protégé stagger backwards, then fall to one knee. It had been a ploy by Henry. When his opponent moved in for the kill, Henry surged upward and slammed a forearm into the guy’s throat. That took him out of the fight and could have been fatal if Henry had decided to punch his throat instead.
Thirteen men were down on the floor with various injuries; two of them were unconscious. The remaining four men had stayed back. Marcello shouted at them.
“Why are you just standing there?”
The shortest of the group gestured at Tanner and Henry. “What’s the point? They’d only kick our asses too.”
Marcello grunted in disgust and reached a hand under the counter. Tanner brought out his gun.
“If you bring up a weapon from under that bar, I’ll kill you, Marcello.”
Marcello brought his empty hand back into view slowly, then walked out from behind the bar. He sneered at Tanner.
“I’ll help you. And I hope Soulless kills you when you find him.”
Tanner put away his gun and brought out a phone, to toss to Marcello.
“There’
s one number in there. Call me when you find Soulless,” Tanner said, and he and Henry left the club through the front door.
Marcello looked at the phone in his hand and squeezed it, while wishing he had his hands around Tanner’s neck instead.
He wanted to find Soulless more than ever now, because when he found him, he would have a way to lure Tanner into a trap.
“I’m going to kill that American son of a bitch,” Marcello told his men. Not one of them believed him.
25
Closing In
Elliot awoke to find that he could see out of only one eye, his right. The left eye was swollen shut, and two teeth hurt. When he probed them with his tongue, one of the teeth felt loose.
He hurt all over, thought he might have a cracked or broken rib, and the taste of blood was in his mouth. He heard the soft jingle of a chain as he stood and looked at his left wrist to see he had been handcuffed to the railing again. He was thirsty and had to pee.
As he urinated over the side of the boat it struck him that it was getting dark. That meant he had been out for hours. He wondered if he had a concussion, but there was no dizziness, just pain wherever Soulless’s fists had struck him.
“It’s about time you woke up,” Gwen said.
Elliot hadn’t noticed her. She’d been on his left piloting the boat, and the setting sun was behind her. Turning back to look out at the water, Elliot could make out the lights of a town. It was an island, but a much bigger one than the one they had been on earlier.
“Where are we?” Elliot asked, not expecting an answer.
“There’s an item we need that we couldn’t get at the last place.” Gwen smiled. “Two items actually.” She left the helm and moved closer to get a good look at him. “Damn. You really got walloped you did. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run.”
Soulless (A Tanner Novel Book 43) Page 25
