Her Rocky Mountain Hero (Rocky Mountain Justice Book 1)

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  * * *

  Viktoria saw Belkin crouch behind the door of his rented SUV. He held onto Gregory’s arm as he pulled her son from the car. All her motherly instincts drew her to that vehicle. Gregory was there. He was the reason she had jeopardized her freedom, endured isolation, even risked death. And if she needed to do it all over again, she would.

  No. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, keeping her original trajectory. This was going to end tonight. One way or the other, she was done running.

  * * *

  The pickup swerved and jostled as the snowy terrain became blacktop. Cody lined up his sights and his finger moved to the trigger. The plan was simple: get the plane to leave without Belkin and Gregory.

  Viktoria had done as Cody told her and maneuvered between Belkin’s SUV and the plane, while still giving the aircraft enough room on the runway for takeoff. Her golden hair streamed down her shoulders and her jaw was tense, set in determination.

  Cody focused on his target—the plane—and fired just shy of the nose. A man dressed in black—probably one of the thugs from the cabin who had kidnapped Gregory—jumped as the bullet hit close to where he stood. He dodged and ran for cover inside the waiting plane.

  Two men in white shirts with gold epaulets ran for the aircraft. One of them ducked beneath the wings and pulled the triangular rubber blocks from the wheels. An instant later, the faces of both men, pilot and copilot, filled the cockpit. As Cody had predicted, the dual prop plane began to maneuver away from the hangar and toward the end of the runway.

  Cody fired again.

  He used the side-view mirror to glance at Belkin, who held a very squirmy Gregory by the arm. Belkin was trying to run to the plane, but to reach his destination, he’d have to get past the pickup first, which meant he’d have to get past Cody.

  Gregory went limp in Belkin’s grasp. The weight of the child pulled them both over. Belkin stood and threw Gregory over his shoulder. Despite being kicked and punched by the boy, Belkin started to run toward the plane.

  If Cody had anything to do with it, Belkin would never make his flight.

  * * *

  Belkin held tight to the only two things that mattered. His computer and the kid. The laptop was no trouble. Gregory Mateev on the other hand...

  The child squirmed, kicked and even bit Belkin on the back hard enough to leave a painful small-toothed bruise. The pickup squealed to a stop twenty feet in front of him. Both the driver’s and passenger’s doors flung open simultaneously and Cody and Viktoria rushed from the truck.

  Cody Samuels kept his back to Belkin. His left arm outstretched, he advanced on the plane. One-handed, he fired. Belkin’s heartbeat slowed to a sluggish pace as the plane’s door snapped shut and the propeller’s rotations increased to a blur. The aircraft gained momentum as it sped to the end of the runway and lifted off the ground.

  Belkin had no time to worry about his failed escape plan. Gregory had kept up his kicking, biting and pulling away. Cody rounded the side of the plane, his firearm aimed at Belkin’s head. Viktoria, the woman who would not die, sprinted toward Belkin. Like a football player, she leapt out and caught Belkin around the middle. Belkin, Gregory, the laptop and Viktoria fell to the ground in a heap. Before Belkin could roll to his side, Gregory ran to Cody Samuels.

  A thin line of blood trickled down Viktoria’s cheek. He’d shot her, he knew. But he now understood that his bullet had not been fatal, as he’d hoped, that he’d only given her a flesh wound. She wiped the blood away with the side of her hand. A red smear remained.

  She got to her feet and walked backward to Cody. Belkin remained sprawled on the ground. The former DEA agent held out a firearm. This time, it was Belkin who faced the barrel of a gun.

  * * *

  The wail of faraway sirens swirled around Viktoria, carried on an icy gust of wind. She relaxed into Cody’s embrace. “It’s over,” she said. “Gregory’s safe and more than that, we have Peter Belkin.”

  Gregory nestled closer into her chest. The three of them together felt right. It had only been a little more than a day, but this was a family. She could feel it.

  “Get up,” Cody ordered Belkin. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Belkin rose to his knees with his palms lifted. A sneer twisted his lips. “I do not know what you think you have won, but this is far from over. Your American justice system is blind, and easily manipulated. And I’ll take great pleasure in doing just that.” He stood. “The men who just flew away were rogue paramilitary. I was, as were you, trying to find the child.”

  “We have evidence that says otherwise,” Viktoria began.

  Belkin interrupted. “What, your testimony? A mother who is wanted on kidnapping charges and a disgraced DEA agent? Who would believe either of you over an upstanding lawyer such as myself?”

  “We can prove you set me up while I was at the DEA,” said Cody. Viktoria couldn’t help but feel proud of Cody. It wasn’t often that a person was given a chance to completely clear his name. “You forgot to encrypt one of your files.”

  Belkin’s fingers trembled. “And why you personally care so much for your American justice is a mystery to me. In Russia, we never could have framed someone like you, a chestnyy chelovek.” He paused and translated, “Honest man. Truly, this system favors the criminals and because of that, I will go free and moreover, remain unscathed.”

  “Justice might be blind,” said Cody. “But, she’s not stupid. Neither am I. I sent the file you kept on me to Rocky Mountain Justice. By now it’s made the rounds in the FBI and DEA.”

  “Then there are the encrypted files we saved to this.” Viktoria took the flash drive from her pocket and held it up.

  Belkin went pale. “Bpyth.” Liar.

  “Give up,” said Cody, “and turn yourself in. Prison is the least of your worries. Nikolai Mateev won’t let you live long enough to have those files opened. The only way you’ll survive will be in protective custody.”

  As if to prove his point, three large sedans with Colorado State Patrol emblazoned on their sides sped onto the tarmac. The cars formed a semicircle. Their headlights shone on the tableau of Cody, Viktoria and Gregory, a safe unit tight together, and Belkin—a lone actor—trapped by his own reprehensible schemes. Six armed officers exited the vehicles.

  “Hands up,” the officers called. “All of you.”

  Viktoria set Gregory on the ground and lifted both her hands. Cody lifted his left arm. His gun was hooked around the trigger guard of his automatic pistol. Belkin remained as he was, his hands already lifted.

  “You,” one of the officers called out. “I need to see both hands in the air.”

  “I can’t,” said Cody. “I’ve been shot.”

  “Are you Samuels, from Rocky Mountain Justice?”

  “I am. My identification is in my jacket. I am going to lay down my sidearm and reach into my pocket.”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them,” said the officer.

  Cody followed the order.

  A patrol officer in a dusty blue parka and khaki slacks approached. He took Cody’s gun first and then reached into the coat’s interior pocket. After retrieving a slim black billfold, he checked the identification. “It’s him, Sarge,” the officer said.

  “It appears that we have a lot to sort through,” said the sergeant. “I need names and statements from everyone. Call Child Protective Services for the minor and an ambulance for everyone else.”

  Belkin stepped forward.

  “Excuse, please, Sergeant,” said Belkin. “My name is Peter Belkin and I need to speak to a representative from the United States Attorney’s office.”

  “About what?” the sergeant asked.

  “I have information regarding a drug trafficking ring that operates over a four-state radius and is run by Russian or
ganized crime. Until I am in contact with the United States Attorney’s office and have guarantees about my personal safety, I have no further comment to make.”

  “Tom,” called out the sergeant. “Get on the horn to Denver. I need someone from the US A down here, pronto. Until then, take Peter Belkin into custody.”

  “I have a hard drive with encrypted information that will corroborate everything Belkin is saying. It came from his laptop,” Cody added.

  A pair of handcuffs were slipped around Peter Belkin’s wrists, pinning both arms behind his back.

  “Those are tight,” Belkin complained as the officer led him away.

  “Well, they’re new and should stretch out the longer you wear them.” The officer’s sarcasm cut through the night.

  As Belkin was placed in the back seat of a highway patrol cruiser, tears of gratitude stung Viktoria’s eyes. Was her nightmare actually over?

  “I’ll need statements from you all,” said the sergeant, “and I want you examined by the emergency medical services when they arrive. Until then, you folks can wait in your car.”

  Cody picked up Gregory and led Viktoria back to the car. Once the door was open, her son climbed into the back seat, where he immediately lay down.

  “Is it over, Mommy?” he asked. “Is that bad man really gone?”

  She glanced at Cody. He nodded. “He sure is, Captain Kiddo.”

  “The bad man is going to jail for a long time, Gregory,” said Cody. “You have my word on that.”

  Finally safe, Viktoria snuggled into the seat. Yet, she could no longer ignore the final question that continued to plague her. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and snaked down her cheek, following the curvature to her lips. She licked it away and turned to Cody. “Do you think the Mateevs will ever leave Gregory and me alone?”

  “I think that Peter Belkin will never bother you again.”

  “What about Nikolai?”

  “He’s going to be very busy as an international fugitive,” Cody said.

  It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but at least it was honest. She nodded. A set of red lights cast their rotating shadows in the distance, and the plaintive wail of the ambulance’s siren followed. The muscles in Viktoria’s shoulders relaxed for what seemed like the first time in months.

  “Eleven o’clock,” Cody said, referring to the time on the dashboard. “I bet Santa’s close. Maybe he’s in Kansas. Or do you think he comes in from the north, and through Wyoming, Gregory?”

  There was no answer. Viktoria turned to look at her son in the back seat. His eyes were closed, his head cradled on his arm, his breaths deep and rhythmic. He was fast asleep.

  “Poor little guy. He’s been through a lot,” said Viktoria.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but he’s a heck of a kid,” said Cody.

  Viktoria’s eyes were also beginning to feel heavy. “I can listen to you say that all day long.”

  Cody turned on the radio. The low tones of “Silent Night” came out of the speakers. He reached for her hand. Her palm fitted perfectly in his.

  “We make a heck of a team, too.”

  Viktoria gazed at Cody. She stroked the side of his face. The stubble on his cheek tickled her fingertips. “You have the most amazing eyes,” she said. “You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, but I can listen to you say that all day long.” He leaned forward. His lips brushed hers.

  His kiss felt right.

  “Merry Christmas, Viktoria,” he said.

  “Merry Christmas, Cody.”

  And from the back seat came the very sleepy voice of Gregory. “This has been the best Christmas ever.”

  Chapter 16

  December 25

  7:00 a.m.

  As far as Viktoria was concerned, Christmas morning was perfect. Gregory’s plate with a half-eaten pancake sat on the kitchen table. The strong, nutty aroma of coffee filled the room. She wore a cozy set of sweats on loan from Cody. Her son knelt in front of the tree with a pile of small colorful blocks scattered about him. She had just spent a tearful half an hour on the phone with her parents. The call ended when her father booked a flight, online, to Telluride. By noon tomorrow, Viktoria would be reunited with her parents.

  On the floor, Cody leaned on his left elbow and a sling held his right arm in place. “When I was a boy,” he said, picking up a building block, “we didn’t have directions for these things. We just used our imagination and built. Since I have an older sister, it was usually something for a doll.”

  “That’s funny,” said Gregory. “I wish I had a sister.”

  “You do? I think you’d be a terrific big brother,” Cody said.

  Was there something wistful in the way he said that to Gregory? Viktoria stirred another spoonful of sugar into her coffee and sipped. It was sweet and light, just the way she liked it. She came to sit on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

  “It looks like you two are having fun,” said Viktoria.

  “Did you see everything that Santa brought me, Mommy? When I woke up this morning and came down to the tree I saw that he had left me three big sets of building blocks!” His head lolled back, like the memory had bowled him over. “Maybe the ride that he gave us back here in his truck was my favorite present, though.”

  “Santa really spoiled you this year! More than being a great guy, he’s generous,” she said. Catching Cody’s eye, she added, “Maybe too generous.”

  “Nonsense,” said Cody. He sat up and moved to rest his back on the sofa’s base, right by Viktoria. He grabbed her toe and wiggled it. “Santa can never be too generous.”

  Paramedics had treated Viktoria and Gregory for their minor injuries at the airstrip the night before. Cody was taken to the local hospital for his gunshot wound, treated and released. Viktoria was offered a room at a posh local hotel. She had refused, and without any questions and very little discussion, Viktoria and Gregory had returned home with Cody. They shared a room as before, but waking in Cody’s house had been a true Christmas blessing. She smiled, and stroked the nape of Cody’s neck.

  “Hey, Gregory.” Cody pointed to the tree. “I think I see another gift. There, in the corner.”

  Gregory scooted around and dove toward the tree’s base. He came out with another box, this one wrapped in bright red paper. “It says it’s for you, Mommy. From Santa.”

  “It does, does it?” Viktoria accepted the gift with a smile. “I wonder how Santa knew I’d be here.”

  She unwrapped the paper and pulled out a red cashmere sweater.

  “He has a sister who’s about your size,” said Cody.

  “It’s very beautiful, but won’t Santa’s sister be upset that her gift was given to someone else?”

  “Hey, Cody. Santa has a sister, just like you!” said Gregory.

  “You know, you’re right.” Cody gave Viktoria a conspiratorial wink.

  “How come Santa didn’t leave you anything, Cody?” asked Gregory. “You have to be on his nice list.”

  “He did, Gregory. He brought you and your mom to spend Christmas with me. Remember how sad my house was without you? Now we’re all together and happy.”

  From across the room, the cell phone sounded. As Cody rose to answer it, Gregory grabbed several figures from his building set and ran up the stairs, making flying noises as if they were all propelled by a jet engine. Cody returned and set the phone on the coffee table. He hit the speaker button as he sat next to her on the sofa. “Viktoria’s right here, Ian. You can give us both an update.”

  “Well, happy Christmas to you both” came his deep upper-class British voice. “I am very pleased to hear that you have all recovered from the excitement of the past few days.”

  “Merry Christmas to you,” said Viktoria. She tucked a strand of hair behin
d her ear, suddenly nervous to be talking to Cody’s boss. “Cody deserves a medal. He’s a true hero.” She touched the back of Cody’s hand. “And a good man.”

  “He is that,” said Ian before continuing. “I have the great fortune to inform you that Peter Belkin began speaking with the authorities last night. The state of New York has dropped all charges against you, Mrs. Mateev.”

  Viktoria pressed a hand to her mouth. “That is good news.”

  Ian concluded, “I’m sure I’ll have more to report in time. But for now, happy Christmas, again. Cody, heal well, and I expect to see you in Denver right after the New Year.”

  “Thanks. And merry Christmas.” Cody clicked off.

  Viktoria checked the time and thought about the other call she had made secretly that morning. She wondered what Cody’s reaction would be to her Christmas surprise. Perhaps she shouldn’t have interfered in another family squabble. It hadn’t gone well for the Mateevs last time. But she truly thought that this situation was different. Before she got a chance to confess to him, there was a knock at the door.

  “Who in the world?” Cody mumbled as he slowly rose to his feet.

  Viktoria wanted to say something, to warn him. But her mouth went dry and she merely followed him to the door, anxious to see his reaction.

  * * *

  Cody stood on the threshold, impervious to the cold, and stared with unblinking eyes. After a minute, he realized that his mouth hung open. He snapped his jaw shut and then swallowed. “Sarah,” he said. He could hardly believe that his sister stood on his stoop.

  His pigtailed niece and his nephew, who had grown inches since Cody last had seen him, rushed forward. “Uncle Cody!” they cried in unison as they grabbed his middle.

  “I... I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about Come on in, Sarah!”

  Cody stepped back from the door. “Yeah, of course. Come in. Get out of the cold.”