A Man Of Respect Page 5

  As Tanner had told Pullo, he had a research department of sorts. It consisted of a hacker named Zoe Farnsworth. Zoe and her sister Kayla were the granddaughters of Tanner Five. Tanner had met them over twenty years earlier while he and Romeo were training with Spenser. He recently met up with them again while pursuing a target in Arizona.

  The women were bounty hunters, but Zoe was also a gifted hacker. It was thanks to her that Tanner knew where Billy Price lived.

  Price was a sociopath. Billy was thirty-two and had never had a job in his life, not an honest job. He was of average height, with wide shoulders, a narrow waist, and a pleasant face. To Billy Price, other people were things. He could mimic their emotions, but with the exception of anger or envy, he felt nothing.

  He had successfully bargained for his life months earlier by promising Tanner he would kill ten people for him. Those people had been involved in the desecration of the graves of Tanner’s family. Price had kept up his end of the deal and Tanner had stayed in touch with him, to use him as a spy within Ordnance Inc.

  He had proven to be invaluable by warning Tanner about Shane Silva’s plans. Despite that, Tanner knew the man could not be relied on any more than he would trust a hungry shark.

  Billy’s fee for killing the ten grave robbers was his life. Since then, Tanner had paid him in cash for his help. Price had been far more useful than the Barlows as a spy. He had also risen to the rank of an Alpha, a team leader, inside Ordnance Inc.

  During their initial encounter, Trevor Healy had been one of only six coordinators. Now, Trevor was the sole Executive Coordinator in charge of supervising fourteen coordinators. Each coordinator oversaw numerous operatives and a Hammer team. Ordnance Inc. had grown in both size and power. At their last meeting, Tanner asked Price to estimate how many people were in the organization.

  “I’d say there are over three-hundred.”

  “That’s counting everyone?”

  “No, that’s just the serious players, the operatives, Hammer teams, and the different coordinators. You could probably add another fifty or so that make up the support staff. Those people aren’t mercenaries; they’re just the clueless office workers and maintenance staff that handle the day-to-day stuff. They think they work for the company that Grayson Talbot uses as a shell to hide Ordnance Inc.”

  Tanner had mulled that grim estimate over in his head. Three-hundred people and growing. If Tanner had to go to war against them, it would take everything he had to survive.

  Billy Price lived in a two-bedroom, two bath condo on South Michigan Avenue. It was on the twelfth-floor and had a view of the east lake, which could be seen from the balcony.

  Tanner had sat out on the balcony while he’d waited for Price to return. That occurred around ten o’clock, when Billy stepped through the door with a bag of fast food and a bottle of wine. Tanner waited until Price was in his underwear and settled in front of the TV before sliding open the balcony door.

  Billy spit out the food he’d been chewing and jumped to his feet. The gun he’d worn in a holster on his belt was sitting atop the kitchen table. When Price realized he was looking at Tanner, he relaxed and sat back on the sofa.

  “You scared me, Tanner. I thought you were a cat burglar.”

  “Twelve floors up?”

  “It could happen.”

  “Maybe if you had a Picasso in here.”

  Billy used a napkin to collect the food he’d spat out on the floor, then poured more wine.

  “Showing up here like this, is it your way of reminding me that you can get to me whenever you want?”

  “No, this is my way of making sure no one spots us together.” Tanner removed a packet of cash from a pocket and tossed it at Billy. “That’s a bonus for that help you gave me with Shane Silva.”

  Billy did a quick count of the cash and smiled. “You tip well.”

  “Do you know if Trevor Healy was aware that Shane Silva planned to kill me?”

  “I don’t think it’s likely. Healy doesn’t deal with the small details anymore. He’s in charge of expanding Ordnance Inc. Plus, he’s been in Mexico the last two weeks. The company has something big going on there.”

  Tanner headed toward the rear door to let himself out. “Keep your eyes and ears open, Billy.”

  “Hey, Tanner.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What are you going to do if they come after you someday?”

  “I’ll kill anyone they send at me, then I’ll plant Healy and his boss Grayson Talbot in the ground.”

  Billy stood and walked closer to Tanner. “I know your rep, man, but if they send three or more Hammer teams at you… let’s just say I wouldn’t plan on a long life.”

  “You don’t think I can win?”

  “Not if they hit you with everything they’ve got.”

  Tanner nodded. “Healy must be thinking the same thing.”

  “If I hear rumors about it, I’ll give you a heads up.”

  “Do that,” Tanner said.

  He left Price’s apartment feeling certain that Ordnance Inc. would come for him; it was just a question of when.

  9

  Planning A Road Trip

  BAHIA MAR, CALIFORNIA

  Tanner and Sara parked their rental behind a long line of vehicles and walked toward the crowd gathered for the funeral. They were dressed conservatively in black and Tanner was wearing sunglasses.

  John Knox, a legendary Los Angeles police detective was being laid to rest. His adopted son Caleb stood beside Knox’s middle-aged daughter, Sadie. Sadie wept into a lace handkerchief while quiet tears rolled down Caleb’s cheeks.

  Since it was a cop’s funeral, there were hundreds of them present. Sara leaned in close to Tanner and asked a question.

  “Does being around all these police officers concern you?”

  “No, they think Tanner is a myth.”

  “Maybe not all of them,” Sara said.

  She was referring to an article that had appeared in a New York newspaper. It concerned a law enforcement think tank named Blue Truth.

  The organization was known for their skill at solving old cases and uncovering new evidence. To date, Blue Truth had helped to capture four serial killers while solving murders as far back as the 1800’s. They were well-financed and led by a group of determined former law enforcement personnel; this included cops, FBI agents, and several retired judges. There was also a highly-rated TV series that dramatized the results of many of their investigations.

  In the article, it stated that Blue Truth was considering three urban legends to explore and uncover. One of the three was the century-old myth of an elite assassin named Tanner.

  “There’s a chance they’ll investigate something else.”

  “I know, but Blue Truth has an amazing track record. I don’t like the idea of more people trying to uncover your identity.”

  “If it happens… I may have a way to use it to our advantage.”

  “Really? How?”

  Tanner gestured with his chin toward Caleb. “I’ll explain later.”

  Caleb had spotted them, and a momentary smile lifted the corners of his lips. It made Tanner glad that he had the time to attend the funeral.

  Mixed in with the cops were dozens of ex-cons. They were men and women whom John Knox had given help to over the years. After retiring to the family farm, Knox had turned it into a sort of halfway house for paroled felons. A few had squandered the opportunity to start over and wound up in trouble again; far more had used the farm as a starting block to transition back into a normal life where they contributed to society.

  Knox’s daughter, Sadie, continued this practice after Knox became ill, although Sadie’s focus was on rehabilitating younger offenders. Along with a second chance, the delinquent teens were taught life skills their parents had neglected to teach them. The program received modest grant money and the farm’s profits funded over ninety percent of the costs. However, the high medical expenses in Knox’s later years had threatened to
force Sadie to make a decision to end the program. With Caleb bringing in money as Stark, by stealing from thieves, the medical costs had been paid, with money left over to aid more kids.

  After speaking with Caleb briefly at the gravesite, Tanner and Sara hung back at the gathering that followed. Caleb understood. Tanner socializing with police officers would be pushing his luck. He was a trained assassin who exuded an aura of danger. Passing himself off as the retiring Thomas Myers in this setting would only make alarm bells go off in certain minds.

  Once the crowd thinned down to the farm hands and family, Tanner stayed by Caleb’s side. Sadie was thrilled to meet him and was happy that Caleb had located a lost brother. She and Sara got along well and shared similar tastes in books and movies.

  Caleb had introduced Tanner as Cody Parker. Tanner smiled as he realized he was getting used to wearing the name again.

  He’d been Cody for the first seventeen years of his life and Tanner for the last fifteen. In the years between those two periods, he had used the name Xavier Zane. It felt good to be Cody again, to be himself, at least part of the time.

  While Sara helped Sadie clean-up after the reception, Tanner sat in John Knox’s wood-paneled office and spoke to Caleb. The walls of the study were decorated with plaques, commendations, and photos. A few of the people posing beside Knox were household names; one was an ex-president.

  Caleb grinned at his brother. “I’m so glad you came, Cody. How long can you stay?”

  “Sara and I were going back to Manhattan tomorrow, but I can stay longer if you need help with something.”

  “It’s not that I need help, but I’d like your company. We haven’t spent much time together lately.”

  “I know, but once Sara and I move to the ranch, traveling here will be easier and faster than it is from New York.”

  “I’ll visit the ranch more as well. This is my home. Still, the ranch feels like home too.”

  “What are your plans, Caleb, now that your father is gone?”

  Caleb grinned. “You want to know if I’m going to keep acting as Stark, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I am, and I want you to come along with me this time.”

  “You have a target picked out?”

  “A home invasion team is operating nearby. They’ve hit eight high-end residences and seem to be getting bolder.”

  “Are they violent?”

  “They beat up one of the homeowners in their last outing. That was a week ago.”

  “How much do you know about them?”

  “Only what’s been in the news. They say that they have Texas accents.”

  “Why do you want to go after this team?”

  “To stop them.”

  “And not for the money?”

  “I’ll take whatever money I find, the farm can always use it, but it’s them I want. They think they have a right to take what isn’t theirs by using force; I want to give them a taste of what they’re dishing out.”

  “I could make that lesson permanent.”

  “You mean kill them? That’s not my style, Cody. I usually only care about the money when it’s a bank robbery or a heist. But man, these guys, breaking into people’s homes, terrorizing kids, I want them to pay. Once I take them down, I’ll involve the police.”

  “You mean once we take them down.”

  Caleb leaned forward. “You’re in?”

  “I’m in. Any idea how to find them?”

  “I know a fence who might be able to help.”

  “You think he’s handling the goods?”

  “No, but he might know who is.”

  “Why would this fence help you?”

  “I could have busted him when he was dealing with a different home invasion team, but I didn’t. Since then, we’ve helped each other out.”

  “It sounds like a good place to start.”

  “Cody, thanks for doing this, big brother.”

  “Like you said, we should spend more time together, and hunting down a home invasion team sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah, but it could be dangerous too.”

  “So much the better,” Tanner said.

  10

  Sam Browne

  The home invasion crew Caleb had told Tanner about was preparing to hit another target. They were outside the suburban home of Tim and Jean Mulberry.

  Tim Mulberry was a software engineer who had recently struck it big by developing a popular game for use on cell phones. The sudden influx of money had sent the couple on a spending spree, which included a pair of matching high-end automobiles.

  The new Mercedes and current year Jaguar sitting in the driveway were meant to make the neighbors jealous. They served their purpose, but they also told the home invasion crew that there was wealth to be had inside the house.

  The Mulberrys had two children, ten-year-old Tammi and eight-year-old Adam. They had prospered as well from the increased household income and had every toy, electronic device, and video game they’d ever craved. They also had college funds waiting for them when they graduated high school, but at eight and ten, the kids didn’t care about that.

  There was another person inside the home, someone the robbers hadn’t seen arrive. It was one of the Mulberrys’ neighbors.

  Gwen Rallo was a sixty-eight-year-old widow and a retired police dispatcher. She babysat the children on a regular basis and was there for that purpose.

  Jean Mulberry had asked Gwen to come over early to watch the kids, while she got dressed and prepared for a night out with her husband. Mrs. Rallo agreed and was in the kitchen serving the children their supper.

  Outside the house, Roy Wicks sat in the passenger seat of a gray delivery truck. The small box truck had been modified to contain a rear bench seat and the lettering on the side of it had the name of a fictitious department store.

  Wicks was the leader of the four-man crew and a former chief of police. The rest of the men were also ex-cops. Fourteen months earlier, they had lived in a Texas town named Peaksville that had low unemployment and a growing middle-class. That was due to the massive manufacturing plant in town.

  The population grew as the town prospered; however, drug use was on the rise.

  A gang of meth dealers calling themselves the Cubanos Forty-niners had moved into the sleepy town hoping to make it a base of operations. Detective Wicks, along with deputies Stephen Hendricks, Carl Taylor, and Darren Stepp formed a task force to make sure the drug gang didn’t get a foothold.

  They successfully drove the gangbangers out of Peaksville but not without trouble. Roy Wicks had survived getting shot in the back, while Carl Taylor was stabbed in the chest. Both men endured their wounds and went on to kill their attackers.

  For their sacrifice and hard work, Roy Wicks had become the chief of police when the former chief retired, while Taylor was promoted to detective. The future looked bright, and it was, until the largest employer in town decided to move their manufacturing plant across the Rio Grande to Mexico.

  The town went from a thriving community to a near ghost town within six months of the plant’s closing. Wicks was told to lay off most of his force and received a cut in pay.

  Real estate values plummeted, and many abandoned their homes while defaulting on their mortgages. What good was a home when you had no way to pay for it?

  Residents quit the town to search for a better life elsewhere. The town of Peaksville was changed forever, and the cops sworn to protect it were forced to watch it die a slow death.

  A year after the plant closed, Wicks, although still chief of police, was one of just three officers left on the force. He’d spent his days parked under a tree with a radar gun. Traffic tickets were the only thing keeping the town afloat, thanks to an effective speed trap that had been set up.

  Upon entering town off the highway ramp, the speed limit dipped to fifteen miles an hour. The town charged motorists a fine of five dollars for every mile over the limit they were caught doing.

  Deputies Ste
phen Hendricks and Darren Stepp had been laid off and were working low-paying jobs in nearby towns. Detective Carl Taylor left the force on his own to go to work for his brother-in-law who was an out of town attorney. Taylor spent his days doing security checks and spying on spouses involved in divorce cases.

  Since there were so few people left in town, crime was almost non-existent, other than the occasional domestic dispute. As for Wicks, he had become an alcoholic and was divorced. While sitting on the road and waiting for speeders to fall into the trap, he had begun the habit of sipping on a flask filled with whisky. It also granted him plenty of time to think. They were not the sort of thoughts a cop should have been considering.

  PEAKSVILLE, TEXAS, TWO MONTHS EARLIER

  “You want us to rob a house?” Carl Taylor asked.

  “You’re damn right I do,” Wicks said. He was in the backyard of the small home he was renting. Rents in Peaksville were cheap, thanks to the rapid decline in the secluded town’s population. Wicks’ ex-wife had gotten their home in her divorce settlement, only to discover that it was worth less than Wicks’ late father had paid for it back in the eighties.

  Stephen Hendricks, Carl Taylor, and Darren Stepp were with Wicks. They drank beer while standing around a grill with hamburgers on it.

  “One of the men responsible for the town dying still has a house here. I happen to know that the old couple he has watching it for him won’t be there tomorrow. The husband is having surgery and you know the wife will be in the hospital waiting room. That house will be sitting there with no one in it, and it’s filled with treasure.”

  Darren Stepp squinted at Wicks. “You’re talking about that huge house off Darby Lane?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I was inside it once when the burglar alarm went off by accident. Hell yeah, there’s treasure inside that place. Paintings, sculpture, and other kinds of art. The maid that was there then said the owner was a collector.”