Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (19 page)

Sarah smiled. 

Lucky you.  I

d have shot you in the face.

 
She headbutted Ashley, who flopped to the floor unconscious.  Then
Sarah grinned at Bradley. 

God,

she said to him,

I

ve been dying to
do that.

RUIN

G
etting Ashley back to MCU
had been an ordeal.  She woke up from the headbutt not five minutes later,
screaming because of the pain in her foot.  Sarah was already weak, without
having to wrestle an adrenaline-filled girl, ten years younger.  Bradley had
done most of the lifting, but seemed guilty about shooting Ashley.  Sarah made
sure he knew he had done the right thing.  Bradley could have killed her and it
would have been the right thing.

The worst part of trying to
get Ashley to their car was the workers next door.  They obviously heard the
gunshot and the whole lot of them came looking.  When they saw Ashley bleeding
and being dragged into the back of a Jaguar, they raised all kinds of hell. 
When they threatened to call the police, Sarah remembered Mattock

s warning not to get apprehended.  She
pulled out her gun and fired a shot into the air.  The men ran off. 

Bradley took the wheel while
Sarah tried to restrain Ashley in the back.  When the girl finally became too
much of a handful, Sarah smashed the butt of her SIG against her temple,
knocking her out again.  The rest of the drive was blessedly peaceful.

Palu met them at the abandoned
farm, ready with handcuffs.  When Ashley finally came to again, she was sullen
and silent.  Sarah assumed this was because of the headbutt, but when they led
Ashley from the car to the Earthworm

s concealed entrance, she keeled over and vomited.  The girl
suddenly looked very unwell.  Sarah wondered if she

d
given Ashley a concussion.

They carried Ashley down to
MCU, straight to Dr Bennett

s
infirmary.
 

Once she

s been treated, she

ll be taken to the holding cells in the middle section of the
Earthworm,

Bradley explained en
route.

They were all standing now
outside the infirmary while Dr Bennett worked inside.  A little over an hour
later, she finally came out to talk to them.


Are
you done, doctor?  I need to talk to her,

Sarah said, tapping her foot.

Bennett sniffed. 

The girl

s a mess; wounds all over.  I

m not sure how much she

ll be able to give you.  Why don

t you let her rest for a while?

Sarah couldn

t believe what she was hearing. 

You do know that Ashley Foster and her
family might be responsible for four suicide attacks?


She

s just a girl.  We don

t know what she

s guilty of yet.

Sarah hissed. 

For one thing, she shot me.  You should know, you patched me up.


If
you need to talk to her, fine, but I think we should let Director Palu decide. 
He

s the one in charge here,
not you.


Let
her in,

Palu ordered,
appearing from one of the adjacent hallways and walking towards them.

Dr Bennett folded her arms
irritably. 

Very well.  I have
the patient on painkillers, so she

s a little drowsy.  Go easy on her.

 

The girl is a psychopath,

Sarah said.

She tried to slice Bradley

s throat.


Until
I pulled the trigger,

Bradley
commented, grinning proudly.

Sarah smiled back. 

Yeah, that

s a hand and a foot you have on your resume now.

Dr Bennett opened the door to
the infirmary and let them all through.  Ashley immediately scowled at them
like a foul smell descending on her. 

Sarah was surprised to see
that Howard was there, too, with his left arm in a cast. 

You look like you

ve been in a car accident,

Sarah said.

Howard smirked. 

I should have been strapped in.

 
His expression sombred. 

Any of you heard about Mandy?

Sarah shook her head. 


Mandy
was in surgery the last time I spoke with Mattock,

Palu told them.

Everybody was silent for a
moment.

Ashley grabbed their
attention. 

Big fucking deal. 
My parents are
dead
because of you lot.  I

m glad your man is suffering, I

m just sorry I didn

t
kill him.  Where the hell am I anyway?  You people aren

t
police.  The guy I shot is probably dead by now, so why don

t you hurry up and charge me, because you

re
not getting anything out of me.

Sarah clenched her fists. 
Mandy had taken a bullet meant for her. 

Keep talking and you

ll wish you were dead.

Ashley laughed and shook her
head.  Despite her attitude, she looked sick.  Her breathing was irregular and
her skin was moist and translucent. 


Is
she going to be okay?

Bradley
asked, referring to Ashley. 

She
looks bad.

Dr Bennett shrugged. 

She should be fine.  She

s missing a couple of toes and her hand is
slightly infected, but her injuries aren

t life-threatening.


So
why does she look like a bag of shit warmed up in an oven?

Sarah asked.


Fever
from the infection, probably.

Sarah rolled her eyes. 

Poor thing.


We

ll have to get her a card,

Howard said.


Screw you,

Ashley spat at them.

Palu walked to the foot of
Ashley

s bed and looked her over casually.

Ashley pulled the blanket
aside. 

Want to climb in with me, big boy?  I

ve
never gone
mocha
before.

Palu tilted his head
curiously. 

What on earth
happened to you, child?  Has this world chewed you up and spat you out so
badly?  If so, I want you to know that I understand.  Life can be so terribly
cruel.  It can turn our hearts to stone before we even reach puberty.  I know.

Ashley rolled her eyes. 

You have no idea what you

re talking about.  You work for the
Government.  You make me sick.


Perhaps
you and I are not so different,

Palu continued. 

I

d like to tell you a story, Ashley.  Would
that be okay?

Ashley rolled her eyes again. 

Knock yourself out.

Palu sat on the bed. 

When I was a young boy, twelve years old, I
lived in the region of the Punjab.  My family were Jat, a proud people of Sikh
heritage.  During British rule we were considered a

martial

race,
born warriors, but my father was just a farmer.  He tended the fields and kept
goats.  Some would say he was a man of peace, yet deep in his blood was a
fighting spirit like all Jat. 


The year was 1984, and a woman I hadn

t even heard of had just been assassinated in New Delhi by her Sikh
bodyguards.  The woman

s name
was Indira Gandhi and she was Prime Minister of India.  I was just a boy.  I
knew nothing of events outside my home or the small school I attended in the
village.

Ashley feigned boredom. 

When are you going to get to the good part?


After
Indira Gandhi was murdered, there were many troubles in India.  Because the
perpetrators were Sikh, the Hindus of India felt the assassination had been a
conspiracy by our people.  In the towns and cities, Sikh men and women were
attacked in the streets, beaten to death by angry mobs.  I could see the
anxiety on my father

s face
growing each day as he continued to work the fields, but he assured us that the
violence would not reach our quiet, little farm.  He was wrong.  My father

s farm was large, and one of only few in
the region.  Some of our Hindu neighbours found opportunity in crisis.  They
stirred up hatred in the village, blamed Sikhs for the death of their beloved
Prime Minister, and pointed fingers at our family.  Soon, there was a mob at
our door.


My
father locked my mother and me inside, and then went to talk sense into our
neighbours and friends who had known him for years.  I do not know what my father
said to them.  All I know is that they beat my father into a coma and set fire
to our farm.  I saw it all.  Later that night they beat me, too, and took my
mother to the bedroom where she screamed all night.

Sarah swallowed.  Her stomach
hurt hearing Palu

s tale of
misery and injustice.

Palu finished his story,
seeming unmoved by it, as if he had replayed it a hundred times in his head. 

My father died in hospital a week later. 
Our farm was purchased by our neighbours for practically nothing.  I was sent
to Britain to live with my uncle.  Two years later I was due to return to
India, but I received news that my mother had killed herself.  I had not seen
her since the night the mob had come for us.


So
you see, Ashley, you are not the only one who feels betrayed and angry.  I
watched my neighbors destroy my home and family, while my Government did
nothing to stop it.  The men responsible were never punished.  My blood boils
at the thought of it, but I have not repeated the cycle of violence.  I have not
allowed my anger to manifest and spread.  I chose a different path.  Ashley,
you need to choose a different path, too.  Help us ensure there are no more
attacks.  Innocent people get hurt when you sow hatred, and it needs to stop. 
Do you understand?


I can

t help you. 
It

s too late.


What
do you mean?

Sarah asked.

Ashley cleared her throat and
looked at them all like they were idiots. 

This
is more than just a few suicide vests.  This whole country is going to come
crumbling down.  By the end of this, there will be no more United Kingdom.


Please
explain,

Palu said.  From the
way Ashley looked at him, it was clear he had her respect more than anybody
else in the room. 

Is this
because of a man named Wazir Hesbani?  Do you know where he is?  How do you
know Dr Cartwright?

Ashley chuckled. 

Cartwright?  My dad hired the chubby fool after my brother died. 
Hesbani reached out to us through him.


Where is Hesbani now?

Sarah demanded.

He is everywhere.  Don

t you feel him?  His shadow is looming over this country like a
plague.  Before this is over, people will be too afraid to leave their homes. 
They

ll forget about their cars, their jobs, their gluttonous shopping
sprees.  People will finally be reminded of what matters, what is truly
valuable: life.  People need to respect life before we have any hope of
changing.

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