Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (25 page)

But Sarah knew they wouldn

t.  Al-Sharir had eluded the West long
enough to know what he was doing.  He wouldn

t be caught sleeping, and his right-hand man, Hesbani, was a rabid dog,
born for war.  He would never be captured alive, and killing him would just
make him the martyr he dreamed of being.

Sarah
needed to talk to Thomas.  He needed to know about their baby.  He needed to
know how sorry she was. 

I
need to speak to my husband,

she
uttered weakly. 

Please,
Major.  He

s at Camp
Leatherneck.  I need to see him.

Major Burke

s face fell.  He knew Thomas well, had even
attended their wedding.  He looked at Sarah strangely now, though, as if she

d asked for something he couldn

t make sense of. 

Sarah,
I

m

sorry.  I tried to reach Thomas as soon as you were brought in.  American
Command told me he was carrying out a spec op in the area, leading a team of
local insurgents in an unmarked minibus.


Okay,
when will the op be over?


That

s the thing,

Burke said. 

One of
our Apache patrols came across a bus in that area this morning.  After what
happened to your squad, we mistook it for hostile.

Sarah wanted to throw up. 

I-Is Thomas okay?

 

No.  The Apache fired on the bus.  There were no survivors.  The bus
was unmarked.  We didn

t know. 
I gave the order myself.  I

m
sorry.

Sarah closed her eyes.  One
week ago, she was leaving the Army to start a family in sunny Florida with a
man she adored.  Now she had nothing.

Burke stood at the foot of her
bed, looking at her with concern. 

Sarah, do you understand what I

ve just told you?


Yes,
I understand, sir.  Now please get out of my fucking sight.

Sarah was discharged from the
Army a week later.

THE PHANTOM MENACE

F
iremen gave Sarah oxygen,
and after several shaky hours, she managed to finally get her breath back.  The
Fire Service managed to deal with the inferno before it spread outside the
building and they were now in the process of trying to make the burnt-out
building safe again.

Mattock was dealing with the
police while Howard stood beside Sarah in silence.  The nearby rail station had
been halted for security purposes and gawping spectators had started to
surround the area like ants around a biscuit.  Another bomb had gone off in a
small town and the public

s
fear was tangible.  British towns were going up like fireworks and nobody knew
where the devastation would hit next.

Sarah was still dealing with
the fact that Hamish was alive, and working with Hesbani.


You
could have died going in there,

Howard chided her. 

What were you thinking?


If we
don

t catch Hesbani, they

ll be more attacks.  Maybe you should have been quicker following me
in.


We

ll get him, Sarah, and we

ll do it without you having to kill
yourself.  You

re no good to us
if you

re dead.


What
the hell do you know about anything?

she snarled. 

Hesbani
ruined my life a long time ago and now he

s ruining hundreds more.  The guy lives for this, he

s a monster.  If you don

t have the stomach to get the job done,
maybe you should go home.


I

m just saying be careful.  There

s a difference between risk and stupidity.

 

Did they teach you that when you were a university lecturer?  This
isn

t a goddamn classroom,
Howard.  Theory goes out the window on the battlefield.  You do what needs to
be done or you lose.  I won

t
lose again, I can

t.


Well, guess what?

Howard said. 

You just did lose.  Hesbani got away.  The lone wolf routine isn

t working for you, Sarah.  As for my time in the classroom, I used
to think that predicting and preventing a terrorist

s
actions was better than dealing with the aftermath, when people are already
dead.  But, after one of my colleagues was arrested for poisoning a tea urn at
a Christian fundraiser, I realised that you can

t
predict terrorism.  It can

t be studied or formulated.  After thousands of years of human
history, we still don

t understand evil.  My Uncle was at that Christian fundraiser, and
he really loved to drink tea.

  Howard swallowed. 

Stop convincing yourself that being a bitch is okay just because you

ve lost something.  You

re not the only one who

s suffered at the hands of evil.  You

re not fucking special.

Sarah blinked and looked down
at her shoes.

Howard was still fuming, but
after a minute he chuckled bitterly.
 

You know, the reason I brought you to MCU was because I thought we
had something in common, but now I know that we don

t.  I do this because I want to save innocent lives, but you

re doing this because you want to kill bad
guys; and if you can

t do that,
you

re happy to kill yourself. 
It

s not courage, acting the
way you do, it

s cowardice. 
Face yourself in the mirror and decide you want to be a human being again, and
then you

ll have my respect. 
Until then, you

re just a bitch.

Howard marched off before
Sarah could respond.  Even if he

d given her time, she
wasn

t sure she could

ve said anything.  After everything that had happened, Sarah

s head was a mess.  She felt responsible
for Bradley

s death, but also
felt angry that she

d been
brought into this goddamn situation in the first place.  Howard had asked for
her help and she

d given it,
but instead of gratitude, she only got anger from him. 

Was everything really her
fault?

The truth was that she was
scared.  Scared of trusting, scared of finding out that she

s made it out of Afghanistan alive, while
everyone around her had not.  If she finally allowed herself a life again,
would the guilt overwhelm her?  Would the faces of Miller, Thomas, and her baby
haunt her forever?  Or would they come back from the dead like Hamish?

Even if she wanted to let go
of the past, what future could she even hope to have?  She was a damaged freak.

Like a wild animal, Sarah let
out a yell.  She screamed, kicked and thrashed.  She wanted to explode, to claw
out her own eyes so that she wouldn

t have to look at anyone ever again, but all she could do was flop
to the floor in defeat as a flood of tears erupted from her.

Mattock approached her
casually.
 

Bloody hell, girl.  If your
old man could see you now.

Sarah glared at him. 

He

d laugh at me, then walk away in shame, right?  Don

t you think I fucking know that?  You can
tell Daddy all about this at your next poker night.  Have a laugh on me.

Mattock chuckled. 

I wouldn

t tell that miserable sod a damn thing.  You

re right, he would leave his daughter lying on the ground in tears. 
That

s the kind of man he is. 
No wonder you

ve got so many
issues, luv.  My old man was a bus driver; lovely man.  Would have given his
right arm for me if I needed it.  Your old man is a cold-hearted bastard, you
don

t need to tell me.

Sarah choked on a sob. 

I thought all the SAS loved my father.  He

s a hero.


You

re damn right he

s a hero.  Don

t
mean he

s not a total arsehole,
though.  There

re many things I
miss about the forces, but Major Stone ain

t one of

em.

Sarah laughed so unexpectedly
that she ended up drooling.  She wiped the spittle away with the back of her
hand and laughed again. 

That
makes two of us,

she
said. 

He was never able to forgive
me for not having a cock between my legs.

Mattock offered Sarah his
hand. 

Believe me, any decent
father would be proud to have a daughter like you.

Sarah didn

t take Mattock

s hand as she was too overwhelmed.

Mattock shifted
uncomfortably. 

Bloody hell,
girl, will you get your arse up?  I

m a trained killer, not a bleedin

nanny.

 
He
grabbed her under the arms and yanked her to her feet. 

Man up, soldier.  There

re still arses to be kicked and, from what
I can see, you still have both legs.  Stop yer bawling.

Sarah nodded and wiped her
eyes. 

Okay, I

m done being a girl for today, and I

m also done losing.  I think we

re overdue for a big fucking win.


Amen
to that, Captain.

Sarah smiled at Mattock. 

My friends call me Sarah.


Sarah
it is, then.

DADDY’S
GIRL

M
attock talked with the
police again while Sarah re-joined Howard.  He looked like he was ready for a
fight again as she approached him, but Sarah raised her hands to show she was
coming in peace. 

You were
right,

she said. 

I might have a slight attitude problem.


A
slight
problem?


Okay,
fine, I

m a bitch, but I

m ready to play nice now.  I know you

ve got my back.  I

ve got yours too.

Howard smiled. 

I know you do.


We
have nothing, Howard.  Hesbani has planned more attacks and we have no leads.


Yes
we do.

 
He pulled a wedge of papers from his jacket pocket. 

I held onto these after you gave them to
me.  It

s the files on the
suicide bombers.

Sarah grabbed Howard and
kissed him hard on the mouth. 

You beauty,

she
said. 

We need to get these
sent out right now.

Howard cheeks reddened. 

Already done it.  I photographed the
documents and sent them to Palu.  He and Bennett are sending the info to every
agency in the country.  Prime Minister Breslow herself has commended the MCU
for its efforts.  Whoever these disillusioned maniacs are, they

ll be swept up within the hour.

Sarah was so relieved that
they

d finally done some good. 
No matter what Hesbani did from here, they had foiled at least part of his
plan.  If they could capture some of the suicide bombers alive, they would have
suspects to interview, information to gather.


We

ll get Hesbani,

Howard told her. 

Once
we have his people, it

s only a
matter of time.

Sarah nodded. 

I just hope we find him fast.  He

ll be desperate now; more dangerous than
ever.


And
he still has people with him.  We have no idea who the man in the balaclava
was, or the woman in the van.

Sarah thought about telling
him about Hamish, but didn

t
quite know how to explain that yet.  How could she tell Howard that she had let
one of her men die in Afghanistan, but he was back from the grave?

Howard looked down at his
sleeve and wiped off a layer of soot.  Then he tugged at his cuffs and
straightened up his workman

s
jacket. 

Pity Hesbani

s hideout went up in flames.  It might have
shed light on who his accomplices were.  We still don

t know if Al-Sharir is behind this.

Sarah

s
eyes went wide. 

Balls, I forgot!

Howard looked confused. 

Huh?

She pulled out the piece of
paper she

d grabbed inside the burning building, right before Howard had
dragged her out.  When she was finished reading it, she looked up at Howard and
swallowed. 

This isn

t good.


What
is it?

Sarah handed him the piece of
paper. 

It

s Hesbani

s script for the final videotape.

Howard read it, his expression
growing grim. 

We have to get
back to MCU.  We can

t let this
happen.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. 

No shit.

They left Mattock with the
police and headed for the car.  It had gotten late, the sun disappearing. 
Sarah put her foot down as she reached the M5 motorway, heading south towards
London.  If Hesbani

s plan was
still active, London was where they needed to be.  Within half an hour, they
met up with Palu and Dr Bennett in the Earthworm

s conference room. 

Howard scanned Hesbani

s script with his mob-sat and brought it up
on the television screen.

People of Britain.  Today
your empire burns.  Your capital city has crumbled and your figurehead is
dead.  Such is the will of Allah.  Shab Bekhier has carried out its mission as
promised.  You might try to stop us, you might try to kill us, but what we have
done today will serve as a stark warning to future generations.  My name is Al
Al-Sharir and all I have done, I have done for the glory of Allah.


Why is Hesbani still claiming to be Al-Sharir?

Bennett asked. 

Unless we

re
assuming that Al-Sharir might still be involved.

Sarah thought about Hamish,
and how Al-Sharir had ordered Hesbani to slit his throat in the middle of the desert. 

I don

t know,

she
admitted. 

Perhaps everything
I thought about Al-Sharir is wrong.  I thought he lived by a certain set of
rules; a moral compass.  Now, I

m not so sure.

Howard tapped his fingertips
on the desk anxiously. 

Have we managed to bring in any of the documented suicide bombers
yet?

Palu answered. 

Scotland Yard are carrying out a raid as we speak.  As soon as they
have them in custody, they know that finding Hesbani

s whereabouts is top priority.


We
need to warn them that Hesbani

s
planning to take out Prime Minister Breslow,

Bennett said.


Are
we sure about that?

asked
Howard.

Bennett shrugged. 

Your figurehead is dead.
  Who else could it be?


I
suppose you

re right,

agreed Howard,

but how?  The Prime Minister is the most protected woman in the
country.

Bennett shook her head
vehemently. 

I disagree.  In
America there

s a small army
protecting our President, but your Prime Minister is virtually defenceless. 
There are no Secret Service to take a bullet for Breslow, or armed convoys
taking her from one place to the next.  Your Prime Minister is a soft target.


She

s right,

Sarah said. 

We don

t plan for assassination attempts like
other nations.  With our gun ban and political system, the ramifications of
executing a Prime Minister aren

t worth the risk.  The party in power would just put someone else in
charge and all of the current policies would continue.  The only reason to kill
our Prime Minister is to make a statement.  This whole thing has been about an
eye-for-an-eye.  We helped take out Saddam, Bin Laden, Gaddafi

now Hesbani wants to take out one of ours.

Palu stood. 

I

ll put through a call to Breslow.  We have a prerogative to warn her
directly.

Sarah leaned back and tried to
think like Hesbani.  Killing Breslow would be primetime news all over the
world, but somehow it didn

t
quite fit.  Breslow had only been in power for two years, and had been behind a
concerted effort to pull troops out of the Middle East.  Her recent tax hikes
and cutbacks on education had made her an unpopular leader, unlikely to get a
second term.  Killing her wouldn

t crush the people of Great Britain.  It wasn

t grand enough.  Hesbani wanted to be immortalised, but killing
Breslow wouldn

t gain him the
everlasting notoriety that Bin Laden had achieved.

Howard

s mob-sat rang, and by the end of the call he looked relieved. 

Mandy

s okay,

he
said. 

His surgery was a
success and he

s awake. 
Mattock is on his way to check on him right now.


Good. 
Mandy promised to start a band with me, so he

d better be okay.

Howard smirked.

The sudden good news made
Sarah think of things less fortunate. 

What have we done with Bradley?


He

s comfortable,

Bennett said. 

I
wrapped him in blankets and laid him inside his dorm until we can have his body
sent to his family.


He
had a room here?

Bennett nodded. 

There are dorm rooms in the rear of the
head section.  I can take you to him, if you

d like.

Sarah nodded.

Dr Bennett took Sarah on the
five minute walk to the dorms. 

I

ll leave you alone,

she said when they reached Bradley

s room.


No. 
I

d like you to stay.

Bennett cleared her throat. 

I

er

okay.

Bradley

s body was wrapped in a bundle of white
sheets on a small cot bed.  A bible had been placed on top of his chest. 

You

re a Christian?

asked
Sarah.


Not
really, but it seemed like the right thing to do.  I don

t know whether or not he believed.  Seems
like he was only around for a short while.

Sarah looked around the room,
finding it cluttered.  Bradley had tried to make it a home.  A large black and
white print of Trafalgar Square hung on one wall.  On the other side of the
room, an image of the royal crown hung above the inscription,
Keep Calm and
Carry On.


What did you know about him?

Sarah asked.

Bennett shrugged. 

He was a sweet boy, and smart.  Loved his
country, loved his queen; just wanted to do some good.  I

m ashamed to say I underestimated how brave
he was.  In the end he proved he was more than just a sweet boy.


He
loved the Queen?

 
Sarah
found that a little odd.


He
loved everything about this country.  Tell you the truth, I was never that
happy about being posted here, but Bradley

s enthusiasm was infectious.  Brits can be rude and vulgar, and your
roads make no sense at all, but deep down y

all are about the most accommodating people on the planet.  This
country tries to please everybody all the time, and it probably comes about as
close as any country could.  America always prides itself on being free, but I

ve never been anywhere that

s as free as Britain.  You can be poor,
sick, uneducated, or even from an enemy nation, and this country will look
after you.  That

s why I

m happy to be here.  I think this country
is a place worth fighting for.

Other books

Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns
Daystar by Darcy Town
Sea of Stone by Michael Ridpath
Hunt the Scorpion by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo
All Other Nights by Dara Horn
Awakening by Hayes, Olivia
Falling Into You by Jasinda Wilder