True Justice

by Morgan Kelley

  Ivan didn’t care.

  As a Marine, you had your brother’s back.

  Period.

  “I’ll get your things into a room,” Ivan offered. He knew Elizabeth wouldn’t leave it at that. Normally, he would have kept his mouth shut, but he wanted Elizabeth to know what they were working with on this one. She may be the job, but she was also his friend.

  Plus, Ethan may have picked him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  At all.

  Ivan disappeared.

  “Who were you working with?” she asked, as she pulled down coffee mugs to get them all some caffeine. She knew it was going to be a long day.

  “CIA. Your husband is privy to all of it. It wasn’t what it seemed.”

  That was all she had to hear.

  “I’m good with it. We all have to do things we don’t like when we carry a badge. Carry on.”

  “Thank you.”

  Greyson went to grab a cookie from Heath, and Emma stepped in to shut that down fast.

  “He isn’t allowed cookies, Heath, so don’t share.”

  The man pulled them away.

  “Really?” he asked. “We have people gunning for us and I can’t have cookies?”

  She smiled.

  It felt good to have that back.

  It was normalcy. The last few weeks were tough.

  Ivan came back in.

  “Your doctor said no. Your cholesterol is high.”

  Greyson grumbled.

  “The living room has a big screen, and it’s hooked up to the tech and the FBI database. Callen really got us prepped. There are four bedrooms. Two on this side of the building facing East, and two facing West,” Ivan said, updating them on the layout.

  Elizabeth and Greyson were good with that.

  “We’ll take East,” Elizabeth stated. “We’ll keep the Crofts with us. The West side is closer to the door, and that will make your jobs easier,” she stated.

  Ivan was glad that they were on the same page.

  That had been his plan.

  Plus, he didn’t want to have to hear them having sex. He missed his fiancée.

  Badly.

  He hoped this mission was handled and fast.

  Ivan really wanted to go home and see his girl. The sooner this mission was over, the better.

  Elizabeth handed out cups of coffee and grabbed the cookies from Heath.

  “You won’t fit in your Kevlar.”

  “Awwww, Mrs. B, you know I work out,” he said, smiling at her.

  “Oh, look. The big man needs to be babysat by the little woman,” Gamble stated.

  The switch was flipped.

  Heath grabbed Gamble, slammed him against the wall, and shook him like a rag doll.

  What people didn’t expect was for him to move so fast. He was like a very large ninja.

  “Have some respect. It’s Director Blackhawk.”

  She laughed at the look on the man’s face. It said it all. He didn’t see that ambush coming. Once Heath was moving…watch out.

  He was super strong.

  “Down, Heath. I’m good.”

  “Are you sure, Mrs. B? I can take the trash out and beat it down,” he stated.

  Gamble didn’t say a word. In fact, he wasn’t surprised. He’d run into a few Marines who recognized him.

  It was the eyes.

  His damn eyes gave him away.

  “I’m sure, Heath. Lay off him.”

  He could do that.

  They grabbed their coffee and headed into the living room. Taking a seat, Elizabeth opened the files.

  “Well, let’s see what we have,” she stated, pointing at Emma’s zip drive. “It’s time to work a case.”

  And with that, they got down to business.

  It was time to pinpoint who was helping Rosemary Harrington, and who was the mole.

  Again.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Mountain

  Cave

  It had taken everything she had to get the bleeding stopped. Fortunately for him, his wound was straight through and through. He’d survive now that she’d gotten the bleeding under control.

  The bad news was that the weather was getting shitty in the mountains.

  As the afternoon sun dipped behind some clouds, the drizzle started, and Poppy knew from regularly hiking in the mountains that it meant snow was on the way.

  That was going to be a bitch too.

  She had to get them into someplace a little less open to protect them from the weather heading their way. The tarp tent that Dimitri had constructed wouldn’t last through the night.

  For the last half hour, no one shot at them, and she was lucky enough to find a cave without a bear in it. That shelter may mean the difference between freezing to death and living another day.

  Breaking down the makeshift camp that Dimitri Gideon had made, she dragged his ass into the cave and blocked the door with his tarp.

  It looked like they were bedding down in there until she could navigate his big body down the mountain. The man was solid. While he looked to weigh about one-eighty, when she tried to pull his dead weight, she could tell he worked out.

  He was a brick shithouse.

  On top of his size versus hers being a disadvantage, Poppy only had minimal supplies. They had enough for a day or two. She only hoped they didn’t get snowed in or sniped by the man’s brother.

  That would suck.

  As she built a small fire, she also prayed for no carbon monoxide poisoning from the flames. They’d have to take their chances. Either way, the odds were against them.

  It was freeze to death or poison themselves. Neither seemed like fun to Poppy, and she was kicking herself for not prepping a little better. Right about now, the man could use something alcoholic.

  To drink and warm him up.

  And to clean his wound. She hoped the hand sanitizer held off the infection until he could see a doctor. This was a hope and a prayer, and he was counting on her.

  As she lit the fire and got it going, the man on the sleeping bag moaned.

  Then he reached for his gun and pointed it at her. She didn’t flinch. Poppy wasn’t worried. Instead, she knelt beside him, trying to reassure him that everything was, indeed, okay.

  “It’s fine, Mr. Gideon. I stopped the bleeding. It looked worse than it was at first. You’re going to live as long as we survive the night.”

  She took the gun out of his hand and placed it back on the ground. All the while, he blinked up at her.

  He was disoriented.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Dimitri was trying to focus on her, but she was fuzzy. He must have lost some blood—a lot of blood. The woman leaning over him was beautiful. She had angelic blue eyes and a long sweep of ebony black hair.

  “Are you an angel?” he asked.

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, no. I’m Poppy. Remember? You held me at gunpoint? That’s quite the first impression, Mr. Gideon. Do you point guns at all the girls?”

  He looked around.

  Where was he?

  He remembered being shot, he remembered her coming into his camp, and he recalled dropping—beyond that…nothing. Dimitri couldn’t focus.

  How did he get into the cave?

  “Where are we?” he asked, his lips dried and cracked from the cold and loss of blood. He was dehydrated.

  Poppy grabbed some water and held it to his lips. Gently, she cradled his head in her arm as she held the water to his mouth. Dimitri slowly drank from it. When he was finished, he leaned back, and she helped him lie flat.

  “Is this a cave?” he asked, staring at her. He couldn’t focus past her eyes. They were that baby blue that stood out.

  “I got us out of the weather. It’s going to snow on the mountain,” she stated.

  “We’re not safe here,” he said, trying to get up. “Where’s my gun?”

  “It’s right there,” she said, pointing at the rifle. Since his Glock was
right beside him, he must have meant the sniper rifle. That was a hell of a gun to have in the mountains.

  He wasn’t hunting deer.

  He had been hunting a person.

  Poppy knew that should make her wary, but beside him, she was calm. This man didn’t scare her. If anything, she was the opposite. Poppy was compelled to help him.

  “You have to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving you behind, and we can’t move you until morning. One major bump, and you’ll bleed like a stuck pig. We need time for that wound to clot. Plus, there’s no way we’ll make it out of here in the snow. We have to bunker down here.”

  He stared at her.

  Her voice was soft, she was self-assured, and her hands were gentle. Before she touched him, she’d warm them over the fire so he wouldn’t get cold.

  He appreciated that.

  Dimitri had never been colder in all of his life.

  When she braided her hair to get it out of the way, he watched her long, delicate fingers.

  Then it hit him.

  “You’re a cop.”

  He recalled more.

  “You’re the cop working my sister’s case.”

  Oh, she was, but that wasn’t important. Keeping him alive was more important at this point. He was injured, and he didn’t do it to himself.

  It was time to protect and serve.

  “Yes, I’m a homicide detective,” she said, picking up his good hand and blowing onto his fingers to keep them warm. Her breath came out of her mouth in a puff.

  The temperature was dropping.

  “Hurry and go. Save yourself,” he said, watching her try to heat him up. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he loved her touching him.

  She was so…

  Gentle.

  Kind.

  Sweet.

  “I’ll be okay. Go without me. I have to get to him. I have to kill him.”

  She touched his forehead. He was hot.

  Digging into her bag, she pulled out some pain meds and more water. It looked like hand sanitizer wasn’t going to keep infection away.

  “We have to keep your fever down. I’m going to put out the fire until you cool down.”

  He watched her work.

  “Poppy?” he asked.

  She glanced over.

  “Yes?”

  “Viktor Marchenko is going to kill me. Leave and get the hell out of here. Please. He’ll take you and hurt you. He’s a sick man.”

  Part of her wanted to run.

  Part of her wanted to fight for him.

  She was torn.

  Oh, she was a cop, and she had heard a lot about the man from other law agencies. No one could pin anything on him, but he was a killer.

  She could tell.

  Only, she’d seen his back.

  He’d been tortured by someone, and that meant he’d been hurt plenty of times. Those whip marks were vicious, and she didn’t think they were recent.

  There had to be a way to reach him.

  She knew with him, suspicion wouldn’t work. She was going to have to go with trust.

  When he picked up his gun and rested it on his chest, she knew that was a sign he was expecting the worst.

  “You won’t shoot me, will you?” she asked.

  He opened his aqua eyes and stared into hers. There was nothing but calm resignation there. It was clear that he’d accepted his fate.

  Well, she hadn’t.

  She would fight.

  “I have never hurt anyone who hasn’t deserved it,” he said, resting his head back.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I have some jerky.”

  “I’m good.”

  Poppy pulled on her gloves after she got his on his hands. It wasn’t easy since she didn’t want to move his arm, but the cold would come fast, and extremities mattered.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “You needed my help. What was I supposed to do? Leave you to die?”

  His eyes showed so much.

  Oh.

  She got it.

  This was some suicide mission.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked. “I’m here to listen. I’m a captive audience.”

  “No.”

  “Okay, Mr. Gideon. Rest. I’ll keep you safe while you get some sleep.”

  He closed his eyes. He needed to rest. If Viktor came for them, he would have to do his best now to save her. She’d saved him, and he wanted to hate her based on principle alone. She was a cop.

  He wanted to blame her.

  He could have been gone but she saved him. She should have let him go.

  It would have been for the best.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Viktor made his way down the other side of the mountain. He knew his way, and he wanted off before the bad weather moved in. Viktor had places to go and people to see, and he was going to leave his brother to die alone on the mountain.

  He’d seen him through his scope as he went down. He’d seen the shot to his chest just outside the line of where he’d have Kevlar.

  He was a dead man.

  He would bleed to death without a doubt.

  Now it was time to get down to Vegas and to take back his town. The Crofts stood between him and being king, and he was going to end it.

  Now.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Tuesday

  Late Afternoon

  Sky Villa

  When they heard the door opening, security went on alert. They headed toward the doorway, and they found Ethan Blackhawk ditching his briefcase and coat.

  “Honey, I’m home!”

  There was laughter as she sent the security back to their posts. Elizabeth met him in the foyer of the penthouse.

  He kissed her as she went into his body.

  It was one hell of a kiss too.

  He smelled like bourbon and his aftershave. It turned her right on.

  “Well, that’s a hello I can get behind,” he said, holding her in his arms.

  When he looked up, Greyson was standing there with his wife.

  “Hello, Greyson. I’m sorry for your loss,” he stated, heading toward the man.

  Catching him off guard, he hugged him.

  “Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate everything that you’ve done so far for us.”

  He didn’t mind.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, rolling his neck. The stress of his day…it sucked. He was cleaning up a cesspool and with each layer of garbage, he found one more layer.

  It was neverending.

  What pissed him off was that it should never have happened.

  Had Greyson stayed director, Vegas would be in better shape. There was no doubt in his mind.

  “We have to go back through and start their last case all over,” Elizabeth stated.

  “We were distracted,” Emma stated.

  Ethan stopped her.

  “Mrs. Croft, you do not have to rationalize it to me. I know what you’re dealing with here, and you shut down a pimp, a trafficker, and half of the team running it. We’ll help you shut down the rest.”

  “We’ll go through the names,” Elizabeth stated. “Ethan, your day isn’t over.”

  He sighed.

  “Who did you shoot?”

  Emma laughed.

  “Sorry. I totally get that. That’s something Greyson would have said to me.”

  Croft kissed his wife.

  “Scary women,” Greyson stated.

  “What do you need, Elizabeth?” Ethan asked. “Then, I had better get a shoulder rub, something stronger than coffee, and dinner. I earned it.”

  “I’ll make you dinner,” Emma stated. “Your other spouse has us pretty set up. It’s spouse, right? I don’t want to offend, but I don’t want to get it wrong.”

  “It’s spouse. That term isn’t offensive. As for dinner, I’ll take it. I’m running on some coffee and a very stale cherry vending machine Danish.”

  Elizabeth was st
ill smiling.

  “Again, what do you need, Elizabeth?”

  Well, since he was asking…

  “We know from sources that Viktor Marchenko is still buying and hurting women. There have to be some bodies in the city morgue. If there are bodies, there is trace. If there’s trace, we might have something to use against him.”

  Ethan knew where this was heading.

  He pulled out his cell.

  “I’ll get them for you.”

  He headed toward the balcony that overlooked the city. This was going to take one hell of a tap dance to get what his wife needed.

  They watched him leave.

  Greyson remembered that pressure. It was like a weight on your shoulders that never let up. At times, it could be so very crushing.

  “Do we have any booze?” Greyson asked.

  Elizabeth headed toward a cabinet that looked like it would be a liquor cabinet. In it were a humidor and some bourbon.

  “Callen tends to think of everything.”

  Greyson poured two glasses of bourbon before grabbing two cigars.

  “Mind if I talk to him alone?” he asked.

  Elizabeth got it.

  Ex-director to deputy director.

  “Go ahead. I’ll keep going through the notes,” she offered, as Emma headed into the kitchen to keep up her end of the bargain and began making something for dinner.

  Out on the balcony that overlooked the city, Greyson was watching the sun heading toward the horizon. On the phone, Ethan was doing his FBI thing.

  “Chris, I need a favor,” he said, calling their ME and partner back home.

  “Sure, Ethan, what’s up?” he asked.

  “I need to get some ME files on some Jane Does. Please tell me you have a good working relationship with the ME in Vegas.”

  He laughed.

  Greyson listened to it all on speakerphone.

  “I have an excellent relationship with Doctor Stone. He used to be the ME in Atlanta. Elizabeth and I both have worked with him before.”

  “Can you make a call? I’m talking unofficial and very much off the record. It’s for Elizabeth.”

  “I can and will. What exactly does she need?”

  “She needs any and all Jane Does that have come in the last two weeks. I need it on the DL. That might not be easy since we were just in the police precinct earlier.”