Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (18 page)


What
does this have to do with Botley?

Bradley asked.


Paul
Fosters

s construction company
is based there.

Sarah eye

s narrowed. 

What

s the address?

  Palu gave it to them. 

You need to send Mattock there right now.


Negative. 
Mattock is taking care of Agent Dobbs.  You and Bradley are our only available
assets.

Sarah swallowed. 

Palu, I

m not the right woman for this job.  I can barely stand up and every
time something happens, I end up on my knees with a gun in my face.


You
don

t have a choice.  You

re all we have.

Sarah said nothing.  For the
first time since she lost Thomas and their baby, she felt fear.  Hesbani had
been the man responsible for destroying her entire life.  Did she really have
it in her to face him down if it came to it?  She couldn

t even close her eyes at night without seeing his snarling face and
whimpering.


We

re on it,

Bradley said. 

Re-brief
when we arrive at destination.


Roger
that,

Palu said.

The line went dead.

Sarah felt her heart pound in
her chest.  Her body was agony.  The only place that didn

t hurt was her face; for once, her scars
were numb.

Bradley started back towards
Botley.  He noticed Sarah staring vacantly out the window. 

Hey, come back to me.


I

m here,

she said.


We
can deal with this,

he
told her. 

Ashley Foster is
alone and desperate.  We can take her in, but I need you with me.

 
When Sarah hesitated, Bradley said,

You

re the one always telling me not to freeze up, so now I need you to
follow your own advice and man up.

Sarah glared at him. 

Man up?  Does it look like I have a dick?

Bradley shrugged. 

Sometimes it does.  You

re kind of intimidating.


Intimidating?


Yeah,
I don

t know if you know, but
you

re kind of snarly.  You
remind me of an abused Jack Russell Terrier my nan adopted.  It bit anyone who
tried to pet it.  The only reason it was like that, though, was because it was
mistreated and abandoned.  It loved my nan, though and as soon as it realised
it could trust her, it became the most loyal pet in the world.  That

s kind of like you, Captain.  You

ve had some bad experiences, but I know
that there

s a good, loyal
person underneath all that snarling.  I just want you to know that you can
trust me.

Sarah bristled, softened, then
bristled again. 

I can only
trust you if you pull the trigger when you

re supposed to.


I
promise to pull the trigger when it

s needed, but only if you get your head back in the game.

The past was pulling Sarah
down, dragging her into a vacuous pit of despair, but there was a chance
hanging in front of her; a chance to change things.  She couldn

t live with all the anger inside her
anymore; she had to let it out.  She needed to take back her life and her
self-respect.  Afghanistan had taken more than just her face, it had taken part
of her soul, too.
 
Perhaps there was still time to get that back.


Okay, Bradley,

she said. 

Step on it.  We

re not going to let that psychopath get away again.  This time, she

s mine.

Fifteen
minutes later, they were back in Botley.  They entered onto a high street,
passing by a Roman-style Market Hall nestled between Tudor houses and other
mid-century buildings.  They found Foster Homes & Construction at the far
end of the village centre, hidden down a side-street beside a small builder

s yard.  The lights were off, but there were men at work in the
adjacent business.

Bradley parked the Jaguar up
on the curb. 

You ready?

Sarah breathed.  She felt like
shit. 

I

m ready.

They headed to the unlit
offices of Foster

s construction company.  Sarah crept up to the window and peered
inside.  There was nothing except the flashing LED of an answering phone.

Bradley gave the front
entrance a little shove, and they were both surprised when it opened.  Both of
them took out their guns, clicking the safeties off.

Bradley slid inside first,
Sarah close behind.  Instinctively, they moved to opposite sides of the room. 
Sarah

s old training came back
to her like it was yesterday
.


I don

t think anyone

s here,

whispered
Bradley. 

We must

ve missed her.

Sarah didn

t respond.  Her focus was on the answering
machine.  It was blinking.  She stepped over to the machine and pressed

PLAY.

Bradley lowered his weapon and
came to listen.  They were both disappointed when they heard an automated
message for PPI insurance claims.  Sarah used the barrel of her SIG to press
another button on the machine.


What
are you doing?

Bradley
asked her.


Checking
the saved messages.

Another voicemail played. 
Sarah knew the voice very well, from her nightmares, and from the previous two
tapes she

d viewed at MCU.


Two
Syrian freedom fighters killed by British Peacekeepers.  Balance the scales.

 


That
was Hesbani,

Sarah said.

Bradley frowned. 

What does it mean?


I don

t know.  Come on, we need to comb this
place, see if we can
—”

A noise caught their
attention.  Bradley and Sarah drew their guns towards the back of the room.

Ashley Foster was standing in
the doorway of one of the offices, looking surprised.  She didn

t draw a weapon, which let Sarah know that
she no longer had a gun.


Don

t fucking move,

Sarah growled. 

I

m just dying to take your head off.

Ashley snickered. 

With that poxy thing?  I

d be surprised if the bullet even reaches
me.

Sarah pointed the gun at
Ashley

s face. 

Let

s test that theory.

Some of the defiance left
Ashley

s eyes and she looked
like an unsure teenager for the first time.  Bradley slowly took a step towards
her while Sarah kept her talking. 

What

s this all
about, Ashley?  Your mum and dad are both dead.  For what?

The news of her father

s death struck Ashley and she recoiled. 
Sarah wondered what it was like to care so much about a parent that it
physically hurt to hear they were dead.  When she one day got the news that her
own father was dead, Sarah imagined feeling only relief.

There were tears in Ashley

s eyes, but a growl on her lips. 

I

ll kill you.


Not
if I kill you first.


Give
it up, Ashley,

Bradley
said. 

Nobody else has to get
hurt.  Just let us take you in and we can hear your story.  We

ll listen.


Yeah,

said Sarah, deciding to try the soft approach. 

You look like shit, Ashley.  Let us take
care of you.

 
It was true.  The
girl was pale, sweating, and seemed like she was in pain.

Ashley wavered.  She could
bolt, but seemed to gravitate towards Bradley, ready to give herself up.  She
looked like a screwed-up teenager, in over her head.  Bradley obviously
recognised that and was managing to keep her calm by playing the caring
friend.  Sarah was ready to pull the trigger the moment it didn

t look like it was working.

Bradley took another step
towards Ashley, holding his hand out to her. 

Let us help you.

Ashley held up her bandaged
hand.  Blood was leaking down her wrist from where Bradley had shot her. 

You

ve already helped enough.

Bradley lowered his gun,
pointing it at the floor, and took another step forward.
 

You gave me no choice.  Don

t force me to do it again.  Nobody has to
get hurt.

Sarah kept her own gun
steadfastly trained on Ashley. 

Bradley, stay where you are.  Ashley, put your hands behind your
head and get down on your knees.

Ashley

s lower lip began to quiver. 

Please.  I just want to see my dad.

It

s okay,

said
Bradley. 

It

s over now.


Bradley,
step back.

 
Sarah didn

t like how close he was getting to Ashley.

Ashley broke down in tears. 
She turned away and hugged herself, shaking as she wept.  Bradley kept on
moving towards her, his hand out in front of him, his gun pointed at the floor.

Sarah raised her voice. 

For fuck sake, Bradley, keep away from
her!  Ashley, get on your knees now, before I blow your goddamn brains all over
the wall.

Ashley spun around, a flash of
metal gliding through the air towards Bradley

s throat.

Sarah cried out, unable to let
a shot off as the risk of hitting her partner was too high.  The bitch was
going to slice his throat.

Bradley ducked under the
blade, narrowly avoiding it.  Crouching down, he threw a left hook at Ashley

s ribcage and sent her stumbling
backwards.  Then he pulled the trigger.

The dark room flashed white as
the gunshot echoed off the walls.  Ashley screamed, hopping on one leg as blood
gushed out of her mangled foot.

Sarah closed the distance
between them and was just in time to catch Ashley in her arms.  The girl stared
at her, a mixture of agony and rage on her face. 

The bastard shot me in the foot.

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