Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (21 page)

H
oward called MCU a dozen
times on the frantic trip back to the Earthworm.  Sarah and Mattock both drove
120mph down the dual carriageway, Range Rover following Jaguar.  Several times
Sarah thought she might crash, but she couldn
’
t slow down.  Not until she reached the Earthworm and saw things for
herself.

As soon as they reached the
derelict farm, Sarah knew the worst had happened.  A flume of black smoke
billowed from the middle of the open field, coming from some burning structure
beneath the ground.

Howard opened up the concealed
entrance and they all beat it down the steps as fast as they could.  Nobody one
spoke; the anticipation was too much to put into words. 

As they reached the lower
steps, they heard the blood-curdling siren. 

“
It
’
s the evacuation alarm,
”
Howard shouted over the din.  He entered the entry code
for the hatch into the tail section. 

Inside, the only light was
coming from the red strobe lights of the alarm system and the strip lighting
that illuminated the floor.  They sprinted through the large unused tail
section and made it over to the other side, fearful of what they would find. 
As soon as Howard opened the next hatch, the epicentre of destruction became
clear.

The smoke billowed out at them
in angry clouds.  Sarah covered her mouth and tried not to choke on it. 
Mattock unclipped something from his belt and threw it into the hallway.  It
was a glow stick and, as it snapped to life, it bathed everything in a soft
green glow.

Howard shouted into the
smoke.  There was a weak reply somewhere off down the hallway.  Sarah didn
’
t hang around and took off into the black
haze.

It was impossible to see, and
she was forced to feel her way along the wall, using the yelping voice as a
guide.
“
Palu?  Is that you? 
Where are you?
”

“
I
’
m here,
”
the director moaned. 
“
Keep moving forward.
”

Sarah found Palu slumped in
the hallway, caked in soot and breathing into his scrunched up tie.  Blood
poured from a thick gash on his forehead, but he otherwise looked okay. 

Sarah knelt in front of him. 
“
You okay?
”

“
I don
’
t know what happened.
”

“
The bomb was inside Ashley.  She was the next suicide bomber.  We
were the freedom fighters she meant to hit.
”

“
You
mean they planned this all along?
”

Sarah shrugged. 
“
I don
’
t know.  Dr Cartwright sowed the bomb inside of her and he
’
s dead.
”

Palu started dragging himself
up off the floor, but winced and slid back down. 
“
Then we have nothing.  All our leads are gone.
”

Sarah put an arm around the
man
’
s waist and managed to help him to his feet.  Soon, she was joined
by Howard and Mattock, who quickly helped her get out of the smoke and back
into the tail section.  There, they dumped Palu down in one of the dusty seats
and took a moment to clear their throats.

“
Palu?
”
Howard said. 
“
I
’
m glad you
’
re okay.  Where are Bradley and Dr Bennett?
”

“
They were in the infirmary with Ashley.
”

“
We need to go back,
”
Sarah said.

Palu shook his head. 
“
You need to wait for the smoke to clear.  The sprinklers kicked in
and dealt with the fire, but it
’
s going to take a while for the extractors to clear the air.
”

Sarah flopped down on a chair
and let her chin fall to her chest. 
“
This just keeps
getting worse.
”

They all waited until the
smoke cleared enough to tolerate.

Then Sarah, Howard, and
Mattock sprinted down the hallway towards the infirmary, choking on what was
left of the smoky air.  Palu stayed behind, still catching his breath. 

At the infirmary, they were
met by a smattering of dying fires.  Ceiling sprinklers had kept the flames
contained, but the damage from the blast had gone completely unanswered.

The infirmary was nothing but
a black smudge.  The tiles were all cracked from the heat, and the furniture
had smashed against the walls.  In the middle of the floor was a wet, lumpy
mess that had probably once been Ashley Foster.

Movement caught Sarah
’
s eye and she spotted Dr Bennett on the
floor, alive.

“
Jessica?
”
she said. 
“
Jessica, it
’
s okay.
”

Bennett was on her knees in
the corner, hunched over somebody and performing CPR.  She was moaning and
sobbing as she did so.

Sarah walked slowly towards
her.

Bradley was dead.  Even with
Bennett performing CPR, it was obvious he wasn
’
t
coming back.  His face was an unrecognisable mess, but his bright blue eyes
gave him away.  One of his ribs jutted out of his torso at a right angle. 

Sarah moved up to the doctor
and placed a hand on her shoulder.  It made her flinch, but she continued
performing CPR. 
“
Hey, doc,
”
she said. 
“
Let
’
s get you out of
here.  There
’
s nothing you can
do.
”

Bennett stopped pumping and
looked up at Sarah, tears in her eyes.  She allowed herself to be helped to her
feet, but after a couple of unsteady steps, she fell weeping into Sarah
’
s arms.  Sarah held the woman tightly and
patted her back.

After a few minutes had
passed, Sarah managed to carry Dr Bennett out of the infirmary.  Mattock and
Howard stayed behind with Bradley, both of them utterly gobsmacked.   In the
corridor, Dr Bennett managed to stop crying for a moment.  She produced a
handkerchief and wiped away some of the soot on her face. 
“
I don
’
t understand it,
”
she said. 
“
How did Ashley get a bomb in here?
”

“
It
was inside her,
”
Sarah
explained. 
“
Did she have any recently stitched wounds when you examined her?
”

Dr Bennett flapped her arms
exasperatedly. 
“
The girl was
covered in wounds, head to toe.
 
I had no reason to think
…”

Sarah patted her shoulder. 
“
None of us knew.  This whole thing has been
impossible to predict from the start.
”

“
No,
it hasn
’
t,
”
Bennett spat, suddenly angry. 
“
Bradley getting hurt was extremely easy to predict.  He was going to
leave MCU because he
knew
this was too much for him. 
You
stopped
him from leaving.  His death is on your hands.
”

Sarah wanted to argue, but
Bennett was right.  Bradley was dead because she had made him stay.  The kid
had never been cut out for this.

But that wasn
’
t true, was it?  Sarah and Bradley had
taken down Ashley Foster together.  Bradley was a good soldier, and he had
wanted to fight the good fight.

“
I
’
m sorry, Jessica,
”
Sarah said earnestly.

Bennett shook her head, fought
off another wave of tears, and then marched down the hallway on her own,
disappearing.

“
You
okay?
”
Palu asked her, coming back from the empty tail
section.

“
No,
”
Sarah said. 
“
Not at all.
”

She went back into the
infirmary, where Mattock and Howard were on the floor beside Bradley.  The
smoke had finally cleared and the scene would have started to look a little
less like a nightmare, if not for the blood and bodies. 

Sarah joined the Mattock and
Howard on the floor.  She thought about how Bradley had compared her to a Jack
Russell Terrier.  He
’
d been right about her from the very beginning, and had stuck up for
her all the way.  She
’
d felt
like she almost made a friend, but nothing had changed.  Sarah was still the
same person she had been when all of this began
.
 She should never have
let herself give a damn.  This was her reward for caring.

Trusting people was never
worth the risk.  Every time Sarah let herself care for somebody, they died. 
Her mother, Thomas, Miller, Hamish, her baby, and now Bradley.  If it wasn
’
t for Howard dragging her into all of this,
she would be alone, safe, and unbothered.  The world was too shitty a place to
get involved in.

She was done.  As soon as she
was on her feet she was walking out of this godforsaken place and never looking
back.  She just needed to rest first; just sit for a while and think.

AFGHANISTAN,
2008

Sarah
sat, numbly staring out the window as the banged-up Corolla bounced across the
sand flats.  The doors rattled in their rusty fixtures and grains of sand made
it in around the loose edges.  Every time Sarah bit down she would be met with
a jarring crunch of sand between her teeth. 

They told her they were taking
her back to camp, as promised.  Al-Sharir sat upfront with Hesbani, and two
other men guarded Sarah in the back with AK47
’
s across their laps.

After Hamish had been
slaughtered, Sarah gave up any hope of getting home alive.  Her hand stayed on
her belly, and she tried not to weep as she thought about how she
’
d let down her unborn child.  It was her
job to protect it.  It had been her job to protect Hamish and her other men,
too, but she had failed at every turn.  She would go to Hell, she was sure.

They drove for almost two
hours, the banged-up Corolla managing no more than 40mph.  Sarah looked out the
window and tried to spot landmarks, but there were none.  Camp Bastion was
isolated in the desert, impossible to sneak up on from any direction.  That was
why Sarah knew she wasn
’
t being
taken there.  If the Corolla came within five miles of the camp, Al-Sharir and
his men would be seized.  They were just looking for a good spot to bury her.

The Corolla
’
s gears crunched as they began to slow
down.  Al-Sharir and Hesbani exchanged heated words up front, but Sarah couldn
’
t translate quick enough to get the gist. 
All she knew was that they were disagreeing.

The car came to a stop, and
the two men with AK47s pulled Sarah out.  She fell onto her hands and knees
before leaping back up on her feet.  Hesbani was right there to shove her away
from the car.  The men with the AKs aimed at her, but Sarah didn
’
t put her hands up.  If they were going to
kill her, there was nothing she could do about it, so why beg?

Hesbani was smirking unkindly
at her.

“
You
’
re a bunch of monsters,
”
she shouted, spitting into the sand.

Al-Sharir stood before her,
calm as always. 
“
I guarantee,
Captain, if our countries were to count bodies, yours would win.  You judge us
by standards your own people fail to uphold.
”

Sarah didn
’
t respond.  Al-Sharir was probably right,
but that didn
’
t make what he
was doing acceptable.  He spoke about ending violence, yet he exercised it as
freely as the Taliban did.

“
You
gave me your word that you would let me go,
”
she said, looking him in the eye.