Showdown in the Rockies
Author
Kathleen Tailer
Reads
15.0K
Chapters
20
A secret cartel operation in the wilderness. A perilous winter pursuit. When their helicopter is shot out of the sky after they discover a drug operation, Detective Flynn Denning — along with her nephew and her ex-boyfriend Derek King — is stranded in the unforgiving Colorado mountains. They'll need to rely on Derek's military skills to survive the treacherous conditions and the assailants on their trail. But with the cartel dead set on eliminating any witnesses to their operation, this mission might be their last…
ONE
The man was dead.
His bare hand reached out and pointed awkwardly toward the tree line, the fingers curled as if grasping for something just beyond his reach. Blood was splattered on the snow around his body...so much blood.
An icy chill swept down Flynn Denning’s spine as she refocused her camera. She had seen dead bodies before—unfortunately—at her new job as a detective in Tallahassee, Florida, but the horrific scene below still made her stomach twist into knots as the helicopter she was in flew over the unexpected and grisly sight. She wondered fleetingly if she would ever get used to seeing death displayed in such a macabre tableau. The bright snow contrasted with the dark red stains that covered a substantial part of the clearing. She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d found the map of the Colorado Rockies and notes in her sister’s house. The handwritten remarks were vague and mentioned a company named Bear Creek Vacation Rentals and a possible meth lab, but not much else. Flynn hoped that the notes and map had something to do with why her only sister, Erin, was now fighting for her life in the nearby hospital. Erin had been shot in the abdomen three days ago by an unknown perpetrator and still hadn’t regained consciousness due to massive blood loss.
Flynn knew from the notes that her sister had been investigating a local drug cartel, but she had few details. Erin was also a detective, but she was employed by the local police department in the small town of Frisco, Colorado, and when Flynn had asked about the cases Erin was working on, the local force had been unable to link any of them to her sister’s shooting. In fact, according to Erin’s captain, they didn’t have a single lead. They were digging into some of her past arrests, but so far, nothing had panned out.
The local team also knew nothing about Erin’s drug cartel investigation, so Flynn had decided to take the bull by the horns and investigate the case herself—even if she did have only Erin’s chaotic notes and a map to go by. She had to do something while her sister was lying in the ICU fighting for her life. Flynn had never been good at waiting for things to happen. She was a woman of action, and sitting around, hoping the local police force would catch Erin’s shooter while she twiddled her thumbs, just wasn’t going to work for her. Still, Erin had clearly been in the beginning phases of her investigation—her notes gave coordinates and vague hints, but nothing concrete. Apparently Erin had participated in a drug bust in Frisco, and one of the men she’d arrested had tried to secretly bargain his way out of a prison sentence by revealing more about the drug operation. When the attempt failed, the suspect later denied he had tried to make a deal, but Erin was good at her job, and had evidently started investigating his claims on her own. Flynn hadn’t expected to find much on this helicopter trip, but now, after seeing the grisly scene below, she was sure that Erin had been on the right track.
Flynn glanced back out the helicopter window and snapped a few more photos. Why was a dead body way out here in the middle of nowhere, slowly being buried by the snow in the remote Rocky Mountains? How did the scene below tie into the drug cartel? Questions spun in her head. Flynn shifted slightly in the helicopter seat so she could determine the exact cause of death, but no matter what angle she chose, it didn’t help.
She focused her camera on the snow and followed the dark streaks of red that marred the wintry scene. Maybe, just maybe, her photos could help local law enforcement figure out what had happened. She was well out of her jurisdiction, but she was still a skilled investigator, and she wanted to help however she could. If she came to them with real evidence, maybe it would lead to the arrest of whoever shot her sister.
She leaned forward, adjusting as the helicopter turned. They had come to another nearby clearing, about the size of a baseball field, circled with aspens and pines. They helicopter hovered about eighty feet over the snow, and Flynn grimaced at the sight.
There was more than one body.
“Do you see that, Derek?” She turned toward the pilot who was flying them over the area and pointed.
“Unfortunately, I do,” he said tightly. Even through the metallic speakers on the headset, she could hear a protective edge in his voice. “We’re right over the coordinates you provided from that map you showed me. Is this what you expected to find?”
Flynn met his eyes for a moment, then shook her head. “My sister’s notes were pretty vague. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this.”
“What’s going on?” Flynn’s eleven-year-old nephew, Kevin, pushed forward from the back of the helicopter, trying to get a better view out the window. “What do you see? Is there something weird out there?” Instead of the ominous tones she’d heard from their pilot, Kevin’s voice sounded more interested than he’d been in anything else they’d talked about today...or all week. According to Erin, Kevin had been struggling ever since his father had abandoned him and Erin over a year before. The boy had been sullen and moody. Flynn and Erin had discussed Kevin quite a bit over the phone, but now that Flynn was actually in Colorado and had been taking care of the youth while Erin was in the hospital, she was seeing his behavior in person for the first time since his father’s unexpected departure. Counselors hadn’t been able to help him so far. And now that his mother’s life was in jeopardy, Flynn was worried that his emotional state was only going to worsen. On top everything he had already been struggling with, he had to be terrified that he might become an orphan, even if he was desperately trying not to show his fear.
A wave of regret swept over her. She wouldn’t have brought Kevin with them if she’d known they’d find a murder scene up here. Surely he didn’t need to be exposed to something so hideous. The boy had been so obstinate and difficult in the hospital, though, that she’d thought the helicopter ride would be a good distraction for him. Flynn had also hoped that during the trip, she would learn a clue or two about who had tried to murder her sister. Still, the scene below was nothing like she’d expected, and she wished she’d left Kevin with a friend back in Frisco.
She turned to the boy and chose her words carefully, not wanting to add to the boy’s trauma. “Some people have been killed,” Flynn said gently. “You don’t want to see it. There’s a crime scene down there.”
“A crime scene? Here?” Kevin’s voice showed his surprise, and when Flynn looked over at him, he looked a bit paler than before. “What happened? Can you tell?”
Derek turned but didn’t answer the boy. He looked back at Flynn. “I count three. Is that what you see?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Kevin, try not to look. I’m going to take a few more pictures for the police, and then we need to go back to Frisco and take my SD card to the authorities. They’ll have to send a team up here to investigate.” She snapped several more photos as Derek banked the helicopter and turned so she could photograph a different angle.
“Good grief. It looks like a war zone down there,” Derek muttered, pulling her back out of her thoughts and into the here and now. “The victims were shot, that much is clear.”
Now that they were closer, the manner of death was much more apparent. “You’re right,” Flynn agreed. “At first, I was afraid maybe a wild animal had gotten them.” She paused. “I only made detective a few months ago, so I’m still learning. Did you come across scenes like this very often in the military?”
“Unfortunately,” Derek said under his breath. Even though he had murmured the comment, the word still went through the headset loud enough for Flynn to hear the desolation in his voice.
She looked back at the scene below them. A copious amount of snow was pink or red near the bodies, and now that they were closer, it appeared that the victims had been trying to escape and had been shot in the back. Footprints from the attackers came from behind and then circled each of the victims. Two were wearing winter clothing, so it was hard to determine their race or even their sex, though by their size they all seemed to be adults. The first body she had noticed was dressed in jeans and a red-and-black flannel shirt. He appeared to be an adult male, with short-cropped black hair, but it was difficult to be sure.
Flynn turned her camera to a couple of buildings on the side of the clearing and nestled into the edge of the surrounding woods. There was a large log cabin–style house that had obviously seen better days. The structure looked abandoned and leaned slightly to the left. Several shingles were missing, and paint peeled from various spots on the dark wooden walls. The building was situated closer to the other side of the tree line and stood about a hundred yards away from where the bodies lay in the snow. There was also a pole barn with an attached structure farther down the valley, and something that could have served as a helicopter pad near the house in the middle of the field. The pole barn housed some sort of equipment, a large tractor and a host of other items including a broken-down truck that had obviously been there for quite some time. A couple of snowmobiles were parked near the house’s front door, but they had a few inches of snow on them, as if they hadn’t been driven in the last couple of days.
“What is this place?” Flynn breathed almost to herself.
“An abandoned home turned meth lab, if I had to guess,” Derek responded. “Do you smell that?”
“Smells like cat pee,” Kevin volunteered.
Flynn wrinkled her nose and shook her head. She had never spent much time around young boys, but one thing she knew without a doubt—Kevin seemed to have a fascination with nasty smells.
“That’s ammonia,” Derek confirmed. “The smell gives it away. Ammonia is one of the key ingredients for making methamphetamine. We came across a few meth labs in Iraq, and I recognize the smell. We need to get out of here. Labs can be really dangerous. If the cooks don’t do everything perfectly, the whole building can explode. Not to mention the fact that three people were murdered down there and the shooters are probably still hanging around.” He pointed at the cabin. “I see some smoke coming out of that chimney. We are not alone.”
“I agree. Let’s get out of here,” Flynn said as she sat back in the seat. Had her sister known about this meth lab? Had the drug dealers shot Erin before she could investigate further and shut the lab down? Questions plagued her mind.
“How long were you in the army?” Kevin suddenly asked, leaning closer to the pilot.
Derek turned his head as he steered the helicopter and took a moment to respond. “Eight years.”
“That’s so cool,” Kevin opined. “Where were you stationed?”
“I did three tours,” Derek confirmed.
“What did you do over there?” Kevin asked, apparently unable to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.
“I flew Boeing AH-64 Apache helicopters in the sandbox—mostly in Iraq,” Derek answered tightly.
“Man, that is so awesome! Why did you get out? Flying for the army sure sounds like more fun than flying around these mountains all day for the tourists. This is probably the most excitement you’ve ever had in Colorado.”
Derek pursed his lips and didn’t answer. Flynn glanced at him expectantly, but it was clear from the look on his face that they had broached an area that he had absolutely no desire to discuss. Flynn hadn’t seen Derek King since their college days, and she’d truly been surprised when they had arrived at the airport and seen him running the flight check on the helicopter. She had spoken with a female receptionist to make the reservation and had no idea King Helicopter Tours was owned and operated by her old boyfriend. Back in college, she and Derek had dated for almost three years before they graduated. They had even talked about marriage, but then Derek had suddenly broken up with her and joined the army, with very little explanation. The breakup had been brutal, and Flynn hadn’t heard from him since. In her mind, the wedge between them had all boiled down to one central truth—he had chosen a military career over marrying her, and once he’d made the decision, he hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough.
She had eventually forgiven him and tried to move on, but seeing him again brought feelings back that she thought she had resolved long ago, and the knot that formed in her stomach every time he glanced at her told her she hadn’t quite gotten him out of her system yet after all.
She eyed him carefully. He was bigger now, had filled out quite a bit during his time in the military. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and his arms and legs were equally well-built and strong. He still wore his dark brown hair in a short style, and his handsome face had a few new lines of maturity and stress that only made him more attractive. He was also wearing a well-trimmed beard and mustache and looked the part of a mountain man instead of the former military aviator she knew him to be. His carefree swagger was gone, though, and he now moved with that military bearing that people outside the service could never quite duplicate. The posture was like a confidence that never wavered, no matter the circumstance.
She had to admit, even though eight years had passed, he was still one very good-looking man. His bold, rugged features and firm cheekbones lent him an air of authority. She also liked the way his dark blue eyes captured everything around him. She paused, thinking back to the last time she’d seen him. Despite their horrible breakup and the way he had so callously thrown their relationship away, she had still always remembered him as a fun and gregarious person. The man she had encountered today, however, was serious and subdued. She wondered at the change in him. Anyone who’d served in the military and seen action probably had horror stories replay in their mind from time to time. Maybe Derek had experienced a horrible event while on active duty that had turned him into this sullen and tight-lipped man. Or had there been something else in his personal life that had changed him? There was no ring on his finger, but from his current expression, it was clear she wasn’t about to find out any of the missing details from his life. He seemed professional but also distant, as if he were somehow living in a shell, bricked off from the rest of the world.
She turned away and made an effort to study the landscape. Attractive or not, she knew instinctively she would never pursue any sort of relationship with Derek King ever again. She was done with relationships and men, and once her sister had recovered, she would be returning to Florida on the first available flight. Until then, taking care of her nephew and finding out who shot her sister were her only priorities. That was more than enough to keep her busy. She didn’t need or want to give Derek King a second chance to break her heart.
Derek subtly shook his head as he piloted the helicopter. He was glad the kid was interested in the military. Despite the negatives, like losing friends and family during wartime, he truly appreciated people who wanted to serve their country. Still, he didn’t talk about the army—not with anyone. They had trained him to fly during his initial entry rotary wing training at the US Army Aviation Center of Excellence at Fort Novosel, Alabama. After his third tour had ended in a devastating crash, he had gotten out early with an honorable discharge from his thirteen-year commitment and taken his piloting skills to the civilian world. That expertise was all he wanted to remember from his time in the service. The other memories were too painful to dwell on.
Flynn apparently picked up on his reticence and changed the subject before he had to come up with an answer to Kevin’s question. “Did you note the coordinates of that meth house? We can call in the crime scene to the tower, right? Or should we just contact the police once we get back?” Flynn asked.
“Yes, I’ve got the latitude and longitude,” Derek confirmed, grateful that the discussion had veered away from the army and into new territory. “I’ll call these in to the tower right now. I’m sure they’ll want to come check out this mess ASAP.”
Suddenly, before he even had a chance to reach for his radio, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Two men, both dressed in dark, heavy winter coats, had come out of the house and were standing in the snow. They were also both holding high-powered rifles, and before he could react, they started shouting and pointing their weapons at the helicopter.
The first bullet ripped into the window by Flynn’s head, causing a crack in the glass that looked like a lightning strike. More bullets followed closely behind the first.
“Look out!” Kevin yelled, panic tingeing his voice.
“Get down,” Flynn shouted as she motioned for Kevin to move lower on his seat. Apparently, she still couldn’t see the shooters from her angle, and she huddled against the door while also trying to get a better look at what was happening. Another loud bang cracked through the air, and the aircraft dipped precariously.
A buzzer sounded, and a couple of lights flashed from the dashboard. Derek responded immediately by turning the aircraft away from the shooters and revving the engine to escape the onslaught, but he wasn’t quite fast enough.
Another bullet ripped into the back of the helicopter, and a plume of smoke began pouring from the engine, floating ominously toward the sun. Derek immediately corrected the flight trajectory, but there was only so much he could do as the aircraft limped away from the scene. At this point, he instinctively knew there was no way they were going to make it back to the flight line. All he wanted to do was get the helicopter as far away from the shooters as possible and find a safe place to land.
The gunmen fired several other shots, but Derek flew in an erratic pattern that he’d learned from the firefights he’d flown in the sandbox. No other bullets hit the helicopter, but he was losing altitude fast and trying to compensate as best he could as he studied the terrain. Smoke continued to billow from behind the helicopter and filled the air. If nothing else, he hoped it helped camouflage their exact location—at least a little—from the shooters.
“We’ve been hit,” he said over and over again into his microphone as he tried to transmit their location and the call numbers from his helicopter to the tower. Static was his only response, and he wasn’t even sure the tower was receiving his messages. Apparently, the radio had been damaged, or there was some other problem. A gust of wind lifted his helicopter and pushed him farther south than he wanted to go, and he quickly adjusted. He hadn’t had to fly like this since his last flight in Syria, and he had to push away from his mind’s eye images of the crash that had taken his friend’s life. Jax Thomas had been his copilot and had been flying with him on that awful day when they’d taken fire. A bullet had caught their rear rotor and crashed the helicopter. Despite all his efforts, Derek hadn’t been able to save his friend, and the crash still haunted him today. Guilt followed him around like a constant companion, robbing him of any joy that tried to trickle into his life. He didn’t deserve happiness. His friend would never again be able to enjoy the good things in life, so why should he? The memory of Jax’s death was like carrying a heavy stone around day in and day out. The painful recollections weighed him down, so much so that many times, he felt like he was just going through the motions as he tried to get through another day. Was this crash also going to kill someone he had cared about?
Another gust of wind took them higher, and he could tell that he was fast losing control of the aircraft. His speed increased, and smoke, burning smells and heat permeated the cabin. There had to be a fire in his engine compartment, and he studied his instruments carefully, trying to verify and isolate the problem.
He flattened his lips, and his jaw tensed. According to the readings, his entire engine was on fire. The heat in the cabin was almost unbearable.
Derek kept shouting into his headset, but there was no response from the tower. He tried one last time. “Mayday, mayday. We’re going down!”