Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (12 page)

The fat doctor nodded. 

I-I managed to take him by surprise.  If you hadn

t warned me, Ashley


The girl winced at the sound
of her name being given away so cheaply.
 

You can thank me later

We have to get you
out of here.  Your skills are needed.


Nobody

s going anywhere,

Howard said, defiant of the arm around his throat and
the needle against his jugular.


Excuse me, handsome,

Ashley said,

but you

re not in a position to negotiate.  I

m
the one with the testicles here.

Mandy tried to creep up and
let off another shot, but Ashley aimed at him and shook her head to warn him. 
Sarah eyed Bradley and tried to signal at him to shoot.  He had a bead on the
girl

s flank and could end this right now, but he was frozen on the spot.


What do you want?

Sarah decided to ask the girl, stalling for time while
Bradley searched for his balls. 

Why are you working
with terrorists?

Ashley turned slightly so that
she could see Sarah, who was now standing only twelve feet behind her. 

Honey, we
are
terrorists.


We are no such thing,

argued Dr
Cartwright.

Ashley rolled her eyes. 

Keep telling yourself that, Doc, but you knew there was going to be
blood on your hands eventually.  You can

t
change the world with hypotheses.  We

ve all taken a hand
in what

s happening.  But don

t worry so much,
Doc.  Today

s terrorists are tomorrow

s freedom fighters. 
Just look at Mandela.  Future generations will thank us, even if this one doesn

t.


I want to get out of here,

Dr Cartwright said.

Ashley switched her aim
between Mandy, Bradley, and Sarah, then back again. 

Doc,
if anybody moves, inject that son-of-a-bitch with whatever it is you have there,
understand me?


Yes.

Ashley slid between a pair of
parked cars and fumbled in her jeans pocket with her free hand, keeping the gun
raised with her other. 

Sarah crept forward.  Bradley
followed her lead and got a little closer too, not that the kid would be of any
use if he couldn

t pull the trigger.

Ashley thumbed a button on a
key fob and a blue Ford Focus flashed its lights. 

Get
in,

she told the doctor.


What about him?

 
The doctor
was talking about Howard,
still held hostage by his needle.


He comes with us.


No,

said Sarah. 

Hand him over and we

ll let you leave.


I

m leaving anyway,

said Ashley. 

So keep your
compromises to yourself, freak.

Sarah really wanted to kick
the girl

s ass now. 
We

ll see how pretty
she
is when I

m done with her.


Get in the car,

Ashley ordered the doctor again.

Cartwright reached around
Howard and pulled open the rear passenger door of the Ford.  He then awkwardly
began to shove and position Howard inside, but couldn

t
keep the needle in place while doing it. 

Howard spun around on the back
seat of the car, yanked the doctor down on top of him, and then headbutted him
in the face.

Cartwright slumped into the Ford

s rear foot well
and wailed like a wounded lamb.  Howard leapt out of the car and rolled across
the tarmac, throwing himself behind a Toyota minivan for cover. 

Ashley immediately opened fire.  She missed
Howard with her first two shots, but quickly readjusted and fired the next two
at Mandy just as he was about to pop up from cover.  

Sarah saw her chance and rushed toward the girl
from behind.  She made it halfway before something stung her shoulder and
dropped her to her knees.  Her vision tilted and she gritted her teeth as pain
overwhelmed her. 

Ashley fired another round, this one at Mandy,
and then several more at Bradley.  Sarah remained on her knees, wondering who
the hell this girl was and who had trained her.

Sarah slumped forward onto her
hands, feeling like she needed to be sick.  Ashley approached her, an
animalistic expression on her face.  She pointed the gun at Sarah

s forehead. 

You idiots have no idea what

s
happening, do you?  We

re going to bring this whole country to its knees.  Too bad I

m going to put you out of your misery before you have chance to see
it.

Sarah closed her eyes and
waited for the sound of the gunshot that would end her life.  She had expected
death so many times before that she was actually a little glad it was finally
here.

Blam!

Sarah flew backwards, but it
was out of fright, not pain or impact.  She opened her eyes and found Ashley
clutching her right hand and cursing.  Blood spewed from the girl

s fingertips.  Her gun lay several feet away on the concrete.

Bradley took another shot, but
this one missed.  Ashley leapt out of the way and sprinted for the Ford.  Mandy
let off several shots at her as she leapt in behind the steering wheel, but his
clip ran dry and he was forced to reload.

Ashley kicked close the rear
door of the car, trapping Dr Cartwright inside, and then slid behind the
steering wheel.  She was out of the car park and around the corner before the
rest of them had chance to recover.  Rather than chase their target, Howard,
Bradley, and Mandy all rushed over to Sarah.  Bradley knelt beside her and
pressed his hand hard against her shoulder.  It hurt like hell and made her
eyes roll back in her head. 


You

ve been shot,

Bradley said anxiously,

but
you

re going to be okay.  We

re going to get you
help.


It

s my fault,

Howard said. 

I let the doctor get
a jump on me.


You

re letting her get away,

Sarah said, feeling
herself fading.

Howard stroked her hair. 

She

s already gone.  This whole thing has been a bust.  Mandy, get her Sarah
the Range Rover, we need to get her back to Dr Bennett.

Sarah felt herself being lifted
into the air by a giant and then closed her eyes to dream.

THE BLUE PILL

AFGHANISTAN,
2008

When
Sarah opened her eyes, sweating stone surrounded her on all sides and the sun
scorched through a narrow opening near the ceiling.  It was like waking up
inside a kiln. 

There was a wooden door at one
end of the room and Sarah crawled over to it.  Dirt and stone bit at her palms
and her right leg dragged behind her, numb and heavy.  When she reached the
door she pulled herself halfway up it and shouted,

Let
me out of here!

But no one came to help her. 
She knew nobody would, but something human inside of her wouldn

t allow her to just sit there and rot.

Her face was on fire.  A
bandage covered her right leg, but her face was raw as she brushed it with her
fingertips.  Every touch felt like broken glass beneath her skin and brought
tears to her eyes. 

She beat her fists against the
wooden door, but it barely moved.  It was ancient and thick, cut from a tree
probably a hundred years dead.  There was nothing of any use inside her pockets;
they

d taken everything from her, even her dog tags. 

Sarah thought about her father
and how ashamed he would be of her.  Being captured was worse than death, in
his eyes.  Better to eat your own bullet than let the enemy take you.  The SAS
did not get captured

ever.  If the enemy caught you it was because you

d stopped fighting, and when you stopped fighting you deserved
everything you got.

Thomas was the one who worried
her most.  What would he do when he heard she

d
been captured?  If they buried her in the desert, would he ever even know for
sure that she was dead?  Would he spend the rest of his life wondering about
her?  Wondering about his child she was now carrying?   

Sarah couldn

t help herself, she started weeping.  Her legs spread out in the
dirt and she slumped against the wall, hating herself for being so weak.  She
was alone and it was awful, but she knew that when company arrived things would
get even worse.  Only torture and death awaited her.  The best she could hope
for was that her body found its way home.

She thought about her men:
Hamish, Miller, and the young privates she

d
never gotten to know.  Were they all dead, or had they been taken prisoner
also?  She couldn

t believe how much she

d let them all down. 
Their lives had been in her hands and she

d
failed every one of them.


Just kill me,

she shouted. 

You hear me?  I have
nothing to give you, so just kill me and be done with it.

The wooden door opened and a
man stepped inside.  He was middle-aged, wearing full Pashtun dress with a
Taqiyah
,
a short, rounded skullcap.  He smiled at her in the glow of the doorway and for
a moment he seemed absurdly angelic. 

If I wish for you to
be dead, Captain, then dead you would be.

Wazir Hesbani, the one who

d burned her face with gunpowder, stood behind the new man, glaring
at her silently.  Like Hesbani, the new man also had a tattoo of a dagger on
his forearm.

Sarah shuffled backwards in
the dirt, away from the two men.


Relax.  I bring only bread and water,

the
unknown man said soothingly,

and a willingness to chat.


I

m not going to tell you anything.
” 
Sarah
tried to speak firmly but her voice quivered.


That is up to you, Captain.  I am not here to force you to do
anything.  You are my guest.


Then let me go.


In time.


What do you want?


To chat.

Sarah shook her head. 

My mission was to speak with a village elder.  That is the only
intel I have, and you should know because everything that happened in the
village was all a trap.  You were no doubt behind it.

The man placed the tray on the
floor. 

The elder you came to speak to is dead

Taliban
took the village many days ago and your Army didn

t
even know it.  What happen today was due to your own failings.  It is your own
weakness that has allowing your enemy to best you.

Sarah was confused. 

Are you not Taliban?


My name is Al Al-Sharir and I am just a man, born in Afghanistan, a
Muslim.  I make no choice to be here instead of there, or to be Muslim instead
of Christian.  It is just what I am.  I am no Taliban, but neither am I their
enemy.  Taliban just one group of many that fight for what they believing is
right.  You fight for what you believing is right, yes?

Sarah nodded.


Then you are no different than Taliban.  A coin is having two sides,
but both equal, yes?  Your right does not make other rights wrong.

Sarah struggled to
understand. 

What do
you
believe is right?

Al-Sharir smiled. 

That all of us are wrong and that there is no right.

He held up his wrist to show her the tattoo of the dagger.

Sarah shook her head in
confusion.


It is symbol, that my will belong to Allah.  There is no place for
my own selfish desires.  My life is on the tip of a dagger and I can die any
second.  Allah allows life and only he has right to take it.  We are not here
to rule in his place.

 


We

re just trying to help you people.


Really?  Then why enter our country after events of 9/11?  Is not
anger and fear which bring you here, no?  What is it about now that make your
assistance necessary?  Do not fool yourself, Captain; you are uninvited guests.


But by killing us, you

re just keep us here
longer.  Where is the sense in that?


I make sense of the world in my own small way, as must we all.

Sarah shook her head and felt
more tears spill down her cheeks, sting her wounds. 

P-please,
let me go,

she begged. 

Al-Sharir sighed. 

I will send you back, yes, but I am afraid I must first do what you
expect me to do.

Sarah

s
heart beat against her ribs. 

You

re going to torture me.


Not me, but someone, yes.  We must do unto you as you do unto
others.  It is the only lesson we have to teach here.  My friend, Wazir, is a
very eager teacher.  He will prefer you do not talk easily.

Sarah could sense Wazir lingering
in the doorway.  When she looked, his eyes were still set on her, staring
hungrily. 

I-I don

t know anything.  You sound like a good man, Al-Sharir.  You don

t have to do this.


I am no good man.  We must stop thinking in such flimsy ideals such
as good and bad.

  He reached for Sarah, grabbed the thumb of her left hand and
twisted.

Sarah screamed as her knuckle
dislocated and fire shot up her entire arm.  She tried to speak, but couldn

t catch her breath, so she sobbed like a child. 

Al-Sharir looked at her
pityingly. 

You see, I am no good man.  If you were innocent woman I would let
you go home, but you are not innocent woman.  You are a soldier.  You are
willing to take life, so you must be willing to give it.
” 
He pointed to the dagger tattoo on his arm. 

The dagger points towards my heart, because I am willing to die for
what is right.  That badge on your arm is your dagger.  It say you are willing
to die for your beliefs, as I am for mine.

Sarah looked at the captain

s bands on her dirty uniform and wept, but she managed to splutter
out one final plea for mercy. 

I

m pregnant.

Al-Sharir

s eyes flickered as he studied her face. 

You
speak lies.  It is a clever way for you to beg of me, but it is game I will not
play.

Sarah grabbed the man by his
wrist. 

I swear to you,
I

m pregnant.  I don

t want to fight anymore.  I don

t
want to be a soldier, I want to be a mother.

Al-Sharir stared at her for
what felt like an eternity.  Eventually, he nodded. 

I
believe you.  I cannot harm the innocent inside of you.  I shall release you in
the morning, but if you are lying and I see you again, your punishment will be
great and everlasting.

Sarah

s
eyes flooded as she nodded. 

Thank you,

she said. 

Thank you.  I

m not lying, I promise.


I hope not.
” 
Al-Sharir rose to his feet. 

Because
if I have judged you wrong in this life, Allah will correct my mistake in the
next.  I will see you again in the morning.  Until then, you will have company.

Al-Sharir headed for the
door.  As he did, Hesbani stalked toward Sarah. 

No,

she said,

you said you wouldn

t let him have me.  I

m carrying a baby!

Hesbani sneered at her. 

Don

t worry, English.  I

m not going to hurt you.  I am tired after spending so long with your
friend.

Sarah frowned. 

My friend?  What


Hesbani booted Sarah in the
face, cutting off her words and splitting both her lips wide open.


You do not speak, English.

Hesbani spat as her, before he
walked away and left the room.  Two other men entered and threw a body to the
ground beside Sarah.  When the wooden door closed, leaving her in near
darkness, Sarah realised the man was badly beaten, semi-conscious, and a
British soldier.  He looked up at her with swollen, bruised eyes and tried to
talk, but could only wheeze.

Sarah shuffled until she was
close enough to cradle the injured man in her arms.  She felt more tears spill
from her eyes as she realised who it was. 

Hamish,

she said, through her swollen, bleeding lips. 

What have they done to you?

 

MCU,
ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE, 2014

Sarah let out a moan as past miseries jolted her awake.  She tried
to move, but couldn

t.  Her body floated through the air, her legs dangling.  At first
she couldn

t hear anything, but then it all came rushing back.

Mandy glanced down at Sarah as
he carried her.  His face was pained, beads of sweat running down his nose. 
Sarah didn

t mind being carried.  She felt safe, like a baby. 

Fluorescent lights hummed on
the ceiling above her, hurting her eyes.  The smell of chemicals bleached the
air.

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