Young Guns 3: Beyond Limits Read online

  As July grew nearer, so did the two-week break Spenser had promised them at the start of their desert odyssey. Spenser had said little about it since then.

  They had just returned from a run when they saw Spenser unloading cases of water from his truck. Despite breathing hard from their runs, the boys pitched in. When the water was inside Spenser’s trailer, he announced that there would be three days off from training, Romeo looked worried.

  “I thought we were getting a two-week break?”

  “You will, but not yet. These three days will get you ready for the test.”

  “The test that will decide if we go any further, that test?” Cody asked.

  “Yes,” Spenser said. Afterward, he looked at each boy with a glum expression. “I’m going to hate seeing you go, but the truth is, one or both of you won’t pass this test.”

  “What’s the test, dude?” Romeo asked.

  “It’s a run through the desert.”

  Romeo grinned. “That’s it? Spenser, that’s all Cody and I have been doing. Hell, we’ll pass easy.”

  “Hold on, Romeo,” Cody said. “There’s got to be more to this test or Spenser wouldn’t look like we already failed it.”

  “What’s your best time so far doing the thirty-mile runs?”

  “About five hours,” Cody said, “but Romeo did one in less than that last week.”

  “And did you finish strong or weak?”

  “Weak, those last few miles are tough.”

  “Yeah, and the temperature has been in the eighties and nineties,” Spenser said. “That’s changing. The temperature is predicted to be well over a hundred degrees in a few days. Trust me, that high heat will make a huge difference.”

  “We can still handle it,” Romeo said. “I’m getting so I could run thirty miles in my sleep.”

  “Those runs were just to toughen you up. You each have to cover a hundred miles and you have to do it in a single day.”

  For a moment, Cody and Romeo just stared at Spenser, as if they were waiting for the punchline. When he said nothing more, they looked at each other.

  “We’re going to have to pace ourselves better or we’ll never make it past fifty miles,” Cody said.

  “Yeah, but still, dude, a hundred miles in one day?”

  “You took this test, Spenser?” Cody asked.

  “I did, and I hold the record. It took me twenty-three hours, forty-nine minutes, and twenty-eight seconds.”

  “What was the temperature that day?”

  “A hundred and eight degrees during the day and about eighty-five at night. You can expect about the same.”

  “We won’t have to carry water, right?” Romeo said.

  “Right. I’ll be leaving water along the trail for you.”

  “What about food?” Cody asked.

  “In my opinion you’re better off if you don’t eat much while on the road, but I want you both to pig-out these next three days. By the way, during the three day break you’ll each ride out with me in the pickup and become accustomed to your route. They’re as identical as I could make them and most of it is flat land.”

  “A hundred miles in a day,” Cody said, as if to himself, as he became used to the idea.

  “We’ll both make it,” Romeo said, “but I’m glad we get to rest for three days. We’ll need it.”

  “I want you to realize that what I’m asking you to do is dangerous. Heat stroke can kill,” Spenser said.

  “Okay,” Cody said, “but that’s why we’ve been training. Our bodies are used to desert surfaces and the altitude doesn’t bother us anymore. Even though it’s more than three times longer than we’re used to, I think we can both handle it.”

  Spenser pointed to his head.

  “This isn’t a test for your bodies; it’s a test for your minds. You’ve heard marathon runners mention the wall?”

  “Yeah,” Romeo said. “That’s like, when they hit the twenty-mile mark and feel wasted. I’ve felt it.”

  “There are physiological reasons for that, but it’s mostly mental, otherwise no one would be able to run much farther than that, and many have run more than a hundred miles in a day.”

  “Not in the desert heat they haven’t,” Romeo said.

  “They have, but they also had much more time and training than you’ve been given to get ready for it. Still, it can be done, and you’ll do it if you want to be a Tanner.”

  The boys grew silent as they contemplated their upcoming test, and that was when the earthquake happened.

  When it began, the three of them looked uncertainly at each other, then stared at the trailers, where inside, items such as books were falling from shelves. The tremor only lasted several seconds, but it felt longer.

  “Whoa, that was gnarly?” Romeo said. “I hope that doesn’t happen during the test.”

  Spenser spoke to them as he headed up the steps to his trailer.

  “You two go shower and change. We’ll be eating dinner in town tonight.”

  “Cool,” Romeo said. “And I’m going to stuff myself. I’ve never been this skinny.”

  “This break we have coming up, Spenser, can we go anywhere we want?”

  “Sure, but I was hoping you and Romeo would join me at a resort in Cabo San Lucas. I hear you can surf there too.”

  “I’m in,” Romeo said, “but Cody and I want to get back to Tucson to hook up with Barbara and Monique again.”

  Spenser raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You think they’re waiting for you two to show up?”

  “I don’t know about that,” Cody said, “but I told Barbara that I’d be back someday. With any luck she’ll be available.”

  “I hear you, but try to spend a day or two in Cabo. The resort there is great and there’s no shortage of women.”

  “What happens after the break?” Cody said.

  Spenser reacted to the question by frowning.

  “Spenser? What’s wrong?” Cody asked.

  “You’ve both been doing so well that I almost forgot what you had in store for you.”

  “What’s that mean?” Romeo asked.

  “This test you’ll be taking, the odds are good that one or both of you will fail it. If that happens, I’ll no longer be able to train you.”

  Romeo stared at Spenser with a look of defiance. “I won’t fail.”

  “Me neither,” Cody said.

  Spenser smiled. “I wouldn’t bet against either of you.”

  4

  A Call From The Past

  NEW YORK CITY, MARCH 2018

  Tanner returned to an empty apartment, as Sara was off visiting her father in Connecticut. When Tanner asked her if she wanted him to tag along she seemed surprised that he would want to.

  “Your father and I will have to meet sometime, unless you plan to dump me.”

  “You’re a keeper, but Daddy, well, he can be difficult.”

  “I’m sure I can handle him.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. He doesn’t take well to other alpha-males.”

  “Fine, I’ll stay here and pine away for you.”

  “Pine away? Your country upbringing is showing, Mr. Parker.”

  “I’ll always be a rancher’s son at heart,” Tanner had said.

  After heating up one of the plates of food Sara left for him, Tanner went into the home office and turned on the computer. He employed a service to keep track of the numerous phone and email accounts he kept. Tanner was surprised to see that one of the older phone numbers had a message in its voice mailbox.

  “Tanner? Hi… I hope you get this. It’s me, Andrea Barker.”

  The voice was familiar, but different, of course, the last time he’d seen Andrea she was only sixteen.

  “I found him, Tanner. Not Mr. Smith, but the other one, Mr. Jones. He’s living in New York City. Are you still in Las Vegas? Well… I hope you get this call. If I don’t hear from you soon I’m going to go after him alone. That bastard will pay for killing my father.”

  There
was a pause, followed by the recitation of a phone number to use to make contact, then the call ended.

  Tanner leaned back in his seat as he placed his feet up on the desk. As he began eating his meal, he thought back to six years earlier.

  Death Valley, California, August, 2012

  Tanner drove along what remained of an old road that led to an abandoned gold mine. He had traveled from Las Vegas to meet with a man named Herb Barker. Barker was someone Spenser once did business with years earlier, and whom Tanner occasionally dealt with.

  Barker worked as a go-between for assassins and their clients and had been doing so for over ten years. He was reliable and trustworthy, but that didn’t mean that Tanner trusted him.

  Tanner’s normal go-between, a man named Dwight Sorrell, was off on a cruise in the Bahamas with a girl named Joy. Tanner envied the man, as Joy was a beautiful redhead.

  The plan was for Tanner to call Barker once he decided where in the area he wanted to meet him. However, while checking out the area, Tanner saw that Barker was already at the meeting site and sitting in his car. Tanner was viewing the scene through a rifle scope.

  The early appearance by Barker didn’t seem strange to Tanner, since Barker would naturally choose a spot in the area to await his call. In the past, Barker and Spenser had met near the abandoned mine on several occasions.

  And yet, Tanner had a tingle running along his spine. That usually meant that something wasn’t right. He spent the next half hour looking over the surrounding terrain through the scope and saw no signs that anyone else was around.

  Tanner had arrived in a jeep. He’d parked it off the old mine road and headed on foot toward the dilapidated shack that had once been the office of the mine. Tanner left the rifle behind in the jeep, but he carried a small set of compact binoculars, along with a gun and spare ammo.

  He checked out the shack by looking through a window whose glass was long gone and found the crumbling structure to be deserted.

  When Tanner sidled up on Barker, he saw that the man was staring at his phone with an anxious expression. Herb Barker was forty-six and stood six-feet-tall with a wide frame, dark hair, and brown eyes. He had been a bookie once, but that was when he was in college.

  “I decided to just show up instead of calling,” Tanner said.

  Barker jumped in his seat, then looked relieved and stepped out of his car.

  “You scared the crap out of me, Tanner.”

  “What’s this job you’ve got for me?”

  Barker said nothing, but tears leaked from his eyes.

  “What’s wrong with you, Herb?”

  “The job was legit, I swear it was, but it’s all gone to shit.”

  “Explain that.”

  “The target found out about the hit and the customer spilled everything.”

  “The cops are on to you?”

  “I wish it was only that. No, Tanner, it’s the target. He’s a nasty piece of work. I’m sorry, man. I really am, but I had no choice but to set you up. They have my daughter, Tanner. They have my Andrea.”

  Tanner brought out his gun and jammed it against Barker’s chest.

  “What do you mean you’ve set me up?”

  As Tanner asked the question, a new one formed in his mind, as his gun met unexpected resistance. He lowered his weapon and reached out with his other hand to tear at the collar of the T-shirt Barker had on. Beneath the shirt, Barker was wearing a ballistic vest.

  Tanner grabbed Barker by the throat and slammed him against the hood of his car.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Barker opened his mouth to answer just as death reached out for him. The slug entered Barker’s left temple and left a gaping hole on the other side of his head. Due to Tanner’s proximity, he was sprayed with the man’s blood, and through his grip on Barker’s neck, he’d felt a little of the bullet’s impact.

  Tanner scrambled beneath Barker’s car as more rounds were fired. The shots disabled the vehicle, and leaking fluids mixed with the blood already on Tanner’s face.

  In 1849 a group of pioneers gave Death Valley its name. It certainly became a valley of death for Herb Barker, and if Tanner didn’t come up with a plan, it would claim him as well.

  5

  On Your Marks…

  BAJA CALIFORNIA, MEXICO, JULY 1998

  With the test due to begin at noon, Cody and Romeo listened to the last-minute advice Spenser had to give them. They were about to start off on the hundred-mile journeys that would determine their futures. The temperature had climbed all morning and was over 100-degrees, while expected to reach 107. The boys wore loose-fitting white shirts and pants that would deflect the sun’s rays while also preventing the moisture on their skin from evaporating quickly. The sweat kept the skin cooler than it would be without it. Keeping hydrated was vital.

  The identical backpacks they wore were lightweight and held only what they needed. Among those items was a letter written by Spenser, which he told them to only open sometime after the sun rose the next day.

  The two routes Spenser had mapped out ran parallel to each other but were separated by miles at their widest point. Still, they began at the same position and ended together. Since Romeo currently had the fastest time on the thirty-mile trek, he was allowed to choose which route he would take. He chose the one that had an old silver mine toward the end of its route, while Cody’s route would take him within sight of an abandoned town. The town was frequently visited by tourists, but Cody wouldn’t be close enough for anyone to be a hindrance to him.

  The routes were clearly marked for them, while Spenser would be checking their progress and leaving cool water for the boys to drink along the way. A road ran south between the two routes and Spenser would use it to track their progression.

  “You’ll feel exhausted long before the finish line but don’t give in to the fatigue. Even a short nap would rob you of time that could have been used to cover miles.”

  “Should we rest at all,” Romeo asked, “or just tough it through?”

  “You’ll get some rest whenever you stop to drink, but only take a break if you’re ahead of schedule. Remember, you’ll be much stronger today than tomorrow. If you’re not well past the fifty-mile mark by midnight, you’ll likely never make up the miles.”

  “Night will be cooler, and without the sun beating down on me I expect to eat up the terrain,” Cody said, but Spenser disagreed.

  “Night will be dark, the ground uneven, and the headlamps I gave you to use only help so much. If you move recklessly and twist an ankle, it’ll be game over. Pace yourselves appropriately. I can’t stress that enough. Go hard and fast early to cover as much ground as you can but not so fast that you have nothing left later. This race truly is a marathon and not a sprint. In fact, it’s damn near four marathons. It will take everything you’ve got.”

  With less than a minute left before they were to begin, the boys turned their attention on each other.

  “We’re going to do this, man,” Romeo told Cody. “No way I’m gonna let this beat me.”

  Cody smiled at him. “I feel good. What about you?”

  Romeo grinned back at him. “A hundred miles is nothing.”

  “Hey, guys?” Spenser said.

  The boys turned to look at him.

  Spenser placed an index finger to his head.

  “Your limits are all in your mind. Go beyond limits. That’s what it takes to be a Tanner.”

  Cody and Romeo nodded in understanding. Moments later, they stepped to the start position and awaited Spenser’s command.

  “Go!” Spenser said.

  The boys dashed off while headed in different directions. Behind them, Spenser whispered a prayer.

  6

  Hit The Hitter

  DEATH VALLEY, CALIFORNIA, AUGUST 2012

  Half a mile away from the abandoned gold mine where Tanner met with Herb Barker, a man calling himself Mr. Smith gazed through a pair of binoculars. Smith was forty-two, looked fit, and w
as handsome. His dark hair showed the first signs of gray at the temples while a half-moon scar marred his chin. The scar was acquired during a violent incident.

  Standing beside Mr. Smith was his young aide, Mr. Jones. Jones was twenty-seven, wore glasses, and had dark hair and brown eyes. Mr. Jones was watching the scene below through his own pair of binoculars.

  The two men were sweaty as a result of having to hide beneath a sand-colored tarp that had obscured them from view. The camouflage had been the idea of the man who was with them, named Phelps. Phelps, an ex-Marine sniper, had fired the shot that killed Herb Barker. Phelps was in his thirties and had blond hair and gray eyes. One of those eyes was pressed to a scope and looking for an opportunity to kill Tanner.

  “I see your shot killed Barker, but where’s the assassin?” Mr. Smith said. He had a cultured English accent.

  “He’s hiding beneath the car. Once he pops his head up I’ll blow it off.”

  Mr. Jones pointed toward the scene.

  “Barker is moving. He’s still alive.”

  “That’s not possible,” Phelps said, but as he adjusted the scope a bit, he saw that Barker’s body was indeed moving.

  “What’s going on down there?” Smith asked.

  “That hit man is up to something,” Phelps said. “He’s dragging Barker’s body out of the line of fire.”

  “Barker said the man’s name was Tanner. He also said he was very good at what he does,” Jones said.

  “He’s not better than me,” Phelps said, “and he’s got nowhere to run.”

  “The brush is thick over there on the left, and there’s an old stone wall near it. If Tanner makes it beyond that you might lose sight of him,” Jones said. He was speaking of an area that was full of creosote bushes, blackbrush, and Joshua trees. Beyond the stone wall was a series of large sand dunes.

  Phelps took his eye away from the scope and glared at Jones.