Soulless (A Tanner Novel Book 43) Page 9

  The cartels were blamed for the violence. They in turn put forth the story that it might have been a terrorist attack aimed at the Mexican government. It seemed a preposterous claim, given that many of the dead were members of a cartel. But through threats and bribes, the cartel who had hired Soulless made certain their version of the story was told.

  Like Soulless, they didn’t give a damn how many people died. They only cared that their biggest problem and fiercest competitor, A.J. Pirrello, was gone. As a bonus, all of A.J.’s top people had been eliminated too, leaving his territory totally undefended and ready to be taken over.

  Soulless’s name was bandied about among those in the know, and his reputation as an assassin grew. If you wanted someone dead, and weren’t particular about how that death came about, Soulless was your man.

  Three days after the bombs went off, Soulless was relaxing on a beach in Cancún with Gwen at his side. He wore a pair of bright red trunks and she had a matching bikini. Soulless visited Crash’s assassins website and checked the rankings. When he saw he was still listed as being number two on the list, he fumed.

  Finding out that Tanner was being credited with making an impossible shot that killed a cult leader did nothing to cool his ire. He would never be properly acknowledged until Tanner was dead.

  “What’s wrong?” Gwen asked. “Your face is as red as those swim trunks you’re wearing.”

  “I’m still being listed as second best to Tanner.”

  “Okay. But no one is talking about Tanner; they’re talking about you, and how you wiped out a cartel.”

  Soulless sighed and grew calm. “You’re right. But I still need to kill Tanner if I’m ever going to be considered the best.”

  Gwen reached over and took his hand. “I’ll help you with that when we’re done playing here.”

  Soulless stared at her. Glad that he hadn’t killed her yet, although he knew he’d have to do it someday. And sooner rather than later.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” Gwen asked.

  “I like looking at you.”

  “You can do more than look if we head back up to our room.”

  Soulless stood and helped her up from the sand. Yes, he would kill her, but it wouldn’t be today.

  Part II

  The Woman Behind The Curtain

  10

  A Queen And Her Pawns

  Lorraine Monk was a woman out for revenge, and Tanner was her target. Lorraine, along with her brother, Gavin, and her husband, John, had been attempting to build a sanctuary for those on the run from the law.

  Like the infamous Citadel that had once served the same function for the criminal world, they wanted it to be a haven and a portal for those with enough money to be able to start a new life and escape their troubles.

  Lorraine ran a security company. Creating a new Citadel had seemed like an excellent idea, as there was a need for such an enterprise, and the profit margin could be enormous. People on the run from the law or those with murderous intent directed toward them weren’t going to haggle over the price you charged. They just wanted to know you would be able to keep them safe.

  The old Citadel had lost its reputation of being impregnable decades earlier when two young hit men infiltrated the fortress and killed a client the Citadel had been protecting. Twenty years later, those same two men broke through the Citadel’s defenses again and killed the head of the defunct organization, Ordnance Inc.

  Not content with that, one of the assassins totally destroyed the Citadel with the use of fire. The names of the two assassins were Tanner and Romeo.

  Lorraine had paid a lot of money to gather those facts. While admittedly, much of it was conjecture, she believed her investigators had gotten the story correct.

  Lorraine was aware of the abilities of Tanner and Romeo through personal experience. They were the same men who had destroyed her attempt at creating a new Citadel. While doing so, they had killed her husband and brother.

  Romeo was to blame for John’s death, while Lorraine believed it was Tanner who had killed Gavin. Lorraine wanted them both dead but understood Tanner would be the more difficult of the two to defeat. The man’s reputation for survival was only eclipsed by his ability to kill. With that in mind, Lorraine decided to concentrate on killing Tanner first.

  If she were to make his friend, Romeo, her primary target, his death would enrage Tanner and set him on a course for vengeance. Far better to have him be unsuspecting until the time had come to kill him.

  Lorraine had been patient. She had learned as much as she could about Tanner while searching for someone who might stand a chance against him.

  She, along with Gavin, had once set a trap for Tanner at the site in northern Maine where they were planning to set up their own version of the Citadel. Tanner had killed everyone there, well over a dozen men, including her best man, a Brit named Archer, along with men she would have sworn were more than capable of killing any one man. Gavin had died as well.

  A cold woman, Lorraine was never one to express affection, but she did love her brother and felt his loss. Above that, she detested being beaten. Tanner had destroyed her plans and had done so with ease, then went about his life. Lorraine wanted vengeance, and at last, she thought she might have found the right person to aid her in getting it.

  Soulless’s unimaginable method of assassination in Mexico had come to her attention. The man had slaughtered scores of innocents in order to kill one man. Soulless killed without mercy and disregarded convention or decency. Lorraine thought that such a man would have a chance to beat Tanner at his own game.

  However, she had to be careful. She couldn’t simply hire Soulless and hope for the best. If the man failed and left Tanner alive, it was possible Tanner might find a way to uncover who had hired Soulless to kill him. Tanner had killed her brother; Lorraine would not give him a chance to do the same to her.

  She had come up with a way around that, one that involved the website that ranked assassins. Lorraine had discovered the website some time ago, and it fascinated her. The people on the forums, assumably normal people, talked about assassins as if they were sports figures. They would even argue over which assassins were better than other assassins, although, there was almost total agreement that Tanner was by far the best of his breed.

  Almost total agreement. While ninety percent of those on the site nauseatingly fawned over Tanner, there were some that thought the man was overrated, and that he was possessed of unusual luck.

  A large percentage of that group were fans of Soulless, and many thought it was inevitable that Soulless and Tanner would clash someday. Those who weren’t fans of Soulless continued to believe that dead assassins like Maurice Scallato or Lars Gruber were still the best assassins of all time. When it was pointed out to them that Tanner had killed both Gruber and Scallato, Tanner’s success was attributed again to luck.

  Lorraine didn’t believe in luck, nor did she underestimate Tanner. The assassin was a killing machine. He reportedly spoke over a dozen languages fluently, was renowned for his ability to track down targets, and was perhaps the best there was with a sniper rifle. That wasn’t luck. That was the result of hard work and a dedication to one’s craft. Lorraine hated Tanner, but she did respect him and his abilities.

  Her opinion of Soulless was different. The man was a successful killer, of that there was no doubt, but his methods were detestable. Still, he was Lorraine’s best chance at gaining revenge, and she would hire him.

  To do so, she would need intermediaries, so if either Tanner or Soulless came looking for her, all they would find is a number of pawns. Tanner would seek her out to kill her for daring to put a contract out on him. The same would be true for Soulless.

  Butcher that he was, Lorraine doubted Soulless had the capability to track down Tanner. In order to fix that, Lorraine decided to hire Tanner to kill Soulless. No matter who found whom first, the men would clash, and perhaps Soulless’s barbarous methods would win the day.

&nbs
p; Lorraine had paid researchers and private detectives to find the men she needed to put her plan in place, now it was time to set things in motion. The two men she had chosen were dedicated visitors to the assassin website. One went by the screen name of Soulless Fan #1, while the other went by the name of Tanner Fan #1. Both of them loved their chosen assassin, while despising the other’s choice, and they would frequently get into arguments in the forum about who was better. Lorraine would use the fools and their hatred, while allowing them the chance to find out who was right. Either Soulless would kill Tanner, or Tanner would kill Soulless. She hoped her offer would prove to be irresistible to them. To sweeten the proposition, she planned to hire someone to help her. A woman named Dana Leonard.

  Dana Leonard was thirty-two and a beautiful blonde with green eyes. She had started turning tricks when she was sixteen after falling prey to a pimp. Like many girls who came from a bad family life, she had run away from home and traveled to California. She’d been off the bus for less than an hour before a man approached her with an offer to help.

  A month later, she had a budding heroin habit and was walking the streets. When her pimp owed a gambling debt he couldn’t pay with money, his creditor was willing to take Dana instead.

  Dana had been fearful of leaving her pimp. As horrible as the man was, and no matter how often he beat her, he did feed her and supplied her with the drugs she’d begun to crave. She didn’t know what the new man would be like. His name was Marco. He was an older man who dressed well, but Dana was uncomfortable by the way he stared at her when she’d met him. It was like he was trying to read her mind. They were together in a hotel room after her pimp had handed her over.

  “What is your name?” Marco asked, and Dana heard an accent she couldn’t place.

  “I’m Sugar.”

  Marco waved his hand. “Not the street name you were given. I want to know your real name.”

  “Dana, Dana Leonard.”

  Straight white teeth were revealed as Marco smiled at her. “You and I are going to get along well, Dana.”

  Dana began unbuttoning her blouse, assuming the man wanted sex. It seemed that was all any man wanted from her, including her bastard stepfather, whom she’d left behind in Ohio with her alcoholic mother.

  Marco held up a hand to stop her from undressing. “I may ask you for sex someday, but that is not what I meant when I said we would get along. Button up your blouse.”

  There was a knock at the door. Marco asked who was there and a woman answered, saying her name was Christine. When Marco opened the door, Dana thought the woman who entered looked like a fashion model. She was dressed in a shimmering gown, had perfect makeup, and her dark hair was arranged in a complicated swirl above her head. She was also stunning and wore jewelry that only accentuated her beauty.

  Marco introduced Dana to Christine. “You will go with Christine and do what she says. If you try to run away or become difficult, then we’ll have a problem.” Marco smiled again. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem. What do you think, Christine?”

  Christine reached over, took Dana’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. “Dana won’t be a problem, and I’ll take good care of her.”

  “Be sure you do. I’ll be checking on your progress soon.”

  Christine’s face clouded and Marco noticed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s got track marks.”

  “That’s a recent habit. I decided to take a chance she can get over it.”

  Christine spoke softly to Dana. “What are you on, heroin?”

  Dana nodded.

  “When did you start?”

  “A few weeks ago. Jimmy, my pimp, he shot me up the first few times… and now I do it.”

  “You’ll need to stop. Marco’s girls don’t do that. We also don’t walk the streets like alley cats. We’re better than that, and men pay a lot of money for the privilege of sleeping with us.”

  Dana’s eyes widened as she looked Christine over. “You’re a hooker too?”

  Christine laughed. “We like to use the term escorts.”

  Christine took Dana under her wing. Dana was taken to a doctor who gave her a physical and helped to wean her off the heroin. Because of the short time she’d been on the drug, Dana hadn’t yet formed a psychological craving for the opioid.

  Dana had been kept busy too. Christine was teaching her about fashion, makeup, and correcting her whenever she used crude language.

  Dana loved the clothes she was given. She had always devoured fashion magazines back home in Ohio, but never had the money to afford such clothes. That would no longer be a problem, but she was expected to earn the money that would pay for them.

  “You’ll be going on your first date tonight,” Christine told her two weeks after they’d met in the hotel room. “I chose the man for you. He’s someone I’ve dated before. He’s a gentlemen and he will treat you to a fine meal inside a hotel room. Remember what I’ve told you. You’re to smile often, show interest in him, and never complain about anything. I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back.”

  “Will I have to stay with him all night?”

  “He doesn’t require that.”

  Dana laughed. “I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? I’ve been with more guys than I can remember.”

  “That’s because this man tonight is not just another john, he’s a date. And you’re no longer a hooker, you’re an escort. We’re like actresses playing a part, and you need to make this man feel as if you like him.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “No. But he thinks I do. He’s a customer, and it’s my job to make the customer happy. He’s not a bad guy. I wouldn’t set you up with anyone like that, and most of our customers are just a bunch of lonely old men.”

  “He’s old? How old?”

  “Probably around fifty or fifty-five.”

  “Will he be able to get it up?”

  “He’s never had a problem with me, or maybe he takes a pill for that. Now put on that red dress I bought you last week and I’ll have someone drive you to your date.”

  Dana’s “date” went well. And she made more in three hours than she would have in three days by climbing in and out of strangers’ cars in back alleys. More dates followed. Marco was pleased by her performance, and after she had earned a good amount of money for him, he decided she could start keeping some of what she earned for herself.

  Being young, blonde, and beautiful, Dana became a favorite of the customers. She was often booked for as many as sixteen dates a week, while averaging twelve. Along with the money, many of the clients gave her gifts of jewelry, and one asked her if she’d be interested in marrying him. Dana had turned him down gently, while saying how flattered she was. By the time she was twenty, she was making a quarter of a million dollars, between her earnings and the value of the gifts she received. Whore or not, Dana liked her life. The work was easy, the men tolerable, and she figured she would be able to walk away from it a rich woman before she was thirty.

  That might have been her fate had Marco not gotten himself into trouble with the law. Along with his call girl business, Marco was also involved in the drug trade.

  He was arrested in a sting operation set up by an undercover cop and looking at doing hard time. As part of a deal he made with the woman assigned to prosecute him, he gave up the names of his call girl clients. The prosecutor was an assistant DA who had political aspirations, and she was planning on running on a platform of law and order, with an emphasis on cleaning up the city’s red-light district.

  It didn’t matter that Marco’s girls weren’t streetwalkers giving blowjobs for twenty bucks, but rather call girls making upwards of two thousand dollars a date. A hooker was a hooker to the public, and the clients would be publicly embarrassed, and their names printed in the papers.

  Overnight, Dana and the other girls lost their client base. Christine had been arrested along with several of the other girls, but Dana had managed to avoid the cops. When the
y came to her apartment building to arrest her, she’d been in the laundry room in the basement reading a fashion magazine while waiting for the dryer to stop.

  When she was told by a neighbor that there were police in the building looking for her, Dana crawled out a basement window and never looked back. That was twelve years ago.

  Shaken by her near miss with the law, Dana had decided to go straight and start her own business in San Francisco. She still had the money she had saved and decided to open a boutique in a mall.

  Things went well and the store was a success. Although, compared to the money she used to make as an escort, her income was tiny. She didn’t mind that, or the hard work it took to keep the store going and the annoyance of hiring sales and bookkeeping help. She loved clothes and running the boutique was a pleasure.

  Dana met a dentist named Phillip when she was twenty-seven and fell in love. They married a year later, then divorced a year and a half after that. While they were on vacation in France, a drunken American joined them at their table and said hello to Dana. She recognized him as one of her old clients from her days with Marco. The man was in his sixties and telling Dana how much he missed her.

  She pretended not to know him and insisted he had mistaken her for someone else. That angered the guy, and he opened his wallet and threw money on the table.

  “That should be enough to buy me five minutes with you.”

  Phillip had heard enough. He told the man to leave the table, or he would make him leave.

  “You have the wrong woman. My wife obviously doesn’t know you.”

  The man winked at Phillip. “She’s got a heart-shaped mole high up on the inside of her inner thigh. I don’t remember which leg it was, but I’m right, aren’t I?”

  The color drained from Phillip’s face and he stared at Dana. The restaurant’s owner had noticed that the drunk was bothering the young couple at the table and intervened, by coming over and leading the man away.