Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (27 page)


Can
we go to the bell tower?

Sarah
asked the guard.

David nodded and led them to
the top. 

I

ll be back at the entrance,

he said. 

You need anything
just holler.

From inside the tower, Sarah
could see the sunshine gleaming off the river, bathing the city in an orange
halo.  From up so high, the city noise disappeared.  It was truly beautiful.


Don

t suppose you can see anything?

Howard asked.

Sarah shook her head. 

It

s like an ant farm down there.  We

ll never spot anything from up here without a telescope.


Try
these.

 
Howard handed her a small, sleek set of binoculars.


Where
did you get these?


Out of
the boot.  You didn

t think I

d come on a surveillance mission without
anything to
surveil
with, did you?

Sarah snatched the
binoculars. 

Knew you would
come in handy someday.


Hey,
you

re the one who has to keep
being rescued.


Those
days are over,

said
Sarah,

and as I remember it,
you

ve been a damsel in
distress yourself since we met, too.


Maybe
our odds would be better if we stuck together.

Sarah frowned.  Howard stood
like a boy asking a girl out on a first date. 

If you

re asking me
to be your partner,

she
said,

I

m afraid I already promised myself to one
of Dr Bennett

s cats.

Howard punched the air. 

Those damned cats!  Always in on my action.

Sarah giggled, and then
suddenly remembered why they were there.  She looked through the binoculars and
suddenly London came back to life.  The ants had become people and cars again. 


There
are people everywhere,

she
said. 

I don

t even know what to look for.


The
parade is set to begin soon,

Howard said. 

We need to look out for anybody acting outside of expected
parameters.  Commuters should be moving, and tourists should be spectating and
taking pictures.  Is there anybody doing something different?

Sarah scanned below.  Just as
Howard had predicted, there were several lines of suited business people,
trying to get where they going as quickly as possible.  Their main obstacles
were the dawdling groups of tourists taking photographs, or standing and
pointing.  It was like watching a river flowing around boulders.

Various boats, mostly small
outboard vessels, lined the width of the Thames, all of them emblazoned with
Union Jacks and other patriotic symbols.  There were also Nepalese, Cypriote,
and several other national emblems for those who had aided Britain during the
Second World War. 

To Sarah

s left was the
London Eye
.  The city

s giant Ferris Wheel could make a good spot for a sniper, but while
it was moving it would require a lot of on-the-fly adjustments.  It couldn

t be ruled out as a possible location, but
it wasn

t ideal.  There were
many other buildings on the opposite side of the river, but none were
particularly tall.  They would also be extremely busy during a working day,
which would make the likelihood of discovery very high.

Where would I want to be if
I was going to set up a rifle?  I would want to be high with a nice long
approach, the target coming towards me, not across me.  I would want to be
invisible.

Sarah scanned with the
binoculars but kept coming up empty.  The best place to snipe a boat coming
down the river was from atop Westminster Bridge, but the road was flat and
low.  There were no elevations or interior spaces in which to hide like Tower
Bridge.  Sarah hated to admit it, but she didn

t think they would find the sniper at this section of the Thames.

Howard was silent behind her,
obviously sensing her frustration.  If she didn

t find a clue, they

d
be forced to warn the queen

s
security.  The parade would be cancelled and even more panic would descend the
country.  And Hesbani would disappear into the woodwork.

Sarah took one last look,
wishing with all her damaged soul to find something.  She checked out the ferry
boats departing from Westminster Pier, the buses crossing the bridge, the
carriages on the
London Eye,
and the office buildings on the opposite
bank.  She was just about to give up when she spotted something on the other
side of the river. 

Howard,
what

s that building across the
river with a big green tower?


Er

County Hall.  There

s a
Sea Life
centre there and some
restaurants.

Sarah nodded and kept the
binoculars to her eyes. 

Well,
right now there

s a black van
with a rear spoiler, broken down at the side of the road.

Howard blanched. 

You

re kidding.  The same one we saw at the station house in Redditch?

Sarah studied the van and was
certain.  Its hazard lights were blinking and one of its tyres was flat. 

Come on,

she said to Howard. 

We

ve got the bastards.

They raced down Elizabeth
Tower and bumped into the guard, David, at the bottom.


Everything
good?

he asked.


Ask me
in ten minutes,

Sarah
told him. 

If it looks like I
just kicked the shit out of someone, then yes, everything is absolutely dandy.

FAMILY

S
arah and Howard raced for
the car.  Sarah

s heart was
thumping.  Every second it took to reach the van was a second Hesbani could be
getting away.  When they reached the Jag, Sarah threw herself into the driver

s seat, ignoring the agony of her multiple
wounds, and started reversing before Howard even managed to get fully in the
car.

Crossing over Westminster
Bridge, Sarah had to fight the urge to batter the horn.  Traffic crawled
between pedestrian-covered pavements, but the last thing she could afford was
to alert Hesbani they were coming.  There was also a chance that she was racing
headlong into danger, but there was no time to worry about that.

Howard got on the radio. 

Palu, we have a possible target sighting. 
North bank, outside County Hall.  Black transit van with rear, roof-mounted
spoiler.  Alert authorities.  Back-up needed.


Roger
that,

Palu came back. 

Will alert local authorities.  Mattock en route to provide back-up.


Tell him to hurry his arse up,

she said. 

I could really use him about now.


Roger
that.  Engage target if necessary, but be careful.  You don

t know what to expect.


Don

t worry,

Sarah said. 

The
only people dying today are terrorists.

The radio clicked off and
Sarah put her foot down as the traffic opened up ahead.  She glanced at Howard
beside her. 

You ready,
partner?


Hell
yes.  Time to kick Hesbani

s
arse.

She laughed. 

You sound like me.


Not
necessarily a bad thing.


Don

t get soppy on me.


Wouldn

t dream of it, Captain.


It

s Sarah.  Now, let

s do this.

 
They
reached the end of the bridge and raced into oncoming traffic, crossing the
lanes and heading for the parked-up van on the other side.  There was a
cacophony of blaring horns and swerving tyres, but it was too late for Hesbani
to get an early warning.  The Jag skidded to a stop right in front of the van.


Police,

Sarah shouted, leaping out of the car. 

Or something like that.

  She pulled out her SIG and nearby
pedestrians scattered.  Mobile phones appeared out of pockets and went up in
the air.  Some dialled 999 while others captured video footage.

Howard and Sarah each
approached opposite sides of the van.  Sarah took the passenger side with the
sliding door.  The windows were blacked out, but Sarah could see that there was
nobody in the front seat. 

I

m opening the side door,

she shouted to Howard. 

I

m going after
three.


Roger
that.


One
…”
 
Sarah threw the door open, trying to catch any
occupants unaware.  The plan didn

t work, as she was the one taken by surprise.  Hamish leapt out of
the van, smashing his meaty forehead into Sarah

s face.

Sarah staggered backwards as
she felt her nose break.  The blood came thick and fast, but she was
determined.  She blinked away the tears and wiped away the blood with the back
of her sleeve.  Then she growled.

Hamish took off in a fast
limp, the wound where

d she

d shot him was wrapped in a thick white bandage.  As he ran, he
fired wildly behind him, causing chaos in the streets.

Sarah was about to go after
Hamish, ready to chase him to the ends of the earth if necessary, but Howard
stood in her way.  He pointed to the van

s interior, his face stark white.

Sarah looked quickly, then
choked. 

Holy shitballs!  Is
that what I think it is?

The van

s rear compartment was chock-full of
plastic explosives.  Bricks of the stuff had been piled on top of a wooden
pallet.  At either end of the pallet were dozens of glass containers filled
with amber liquid.  Whatever it was, there were enough explosives inside the
van to wipe Westminster off the map.

Sarah looked towards the
bridge.  Hamish was getting away. 

There

s nothing I
can do here,

she told Howard. 

Call this in.  I

m going after Hamish.

Howard shook his head,
confused. 

Who?

Sarah realised she hadn

t yet explained about Hamish, but there was
no time to get into it now. 

Just
call it in,

she said, and then
sprinted towards the bridge.  Already, she was losing sight of Hamish, but she
wasn

t going to let him get
away.  Not this time.

Sarah sprinted, managing to
reach a speed she

d not managed
since her days in the army, before her thigh had been torn up by IED shrapnel. 
It felt good to feel her muscles moving in sync again, her entire body focused
towards the single goal of momentum.  It was like a rebirth.  The tiredness and
pain of the last few days had ebbed away and she felt strong and powerful,
fully awake for the first time in ages. 

Sarah caught sight of Hamish
and gained on him.  He wasn

t
in shape like he

d been six
years ago and the wound in his leg was slowing him down.  Several times, he glanced
over his shoulder at her and saw that she was closing the distance between
them.  He was halfway across the bridge when he realised he wasn

t going to get away.  He stopped and
pointed his gun at her.  It was the SIG he had taken from Sarah.


Stop right
there, Captain,

he
yelled at her. 

Not another
wee step, yer hear me?

Sarah slowed right down, but
still strolled towards him casually.  She had her own weapon out now, but kept
it hanging by her thigh. 

You

re done, Hamish,

she said matter-of-factly. 

We know all about Hesbani

s plan.  We

ve got
your van full of explosives and we

ll find your stashed rifle.  It was a stupid plan, you were never a
marksman.

Hamish grinned. 

Aye, you

re right there.  I never was much cop with a rifle, was I?  I only
joined the Army to avoid the doll queues.  Still, I was a loyal soldier all the
way, straight as an arrow, for all the good it did me.

Sarah wasn

t about to get dragged into the past, not
when she was finally ready to let it go. 

You

re going to have
much more to worry about than the unemployment line when this is all over,
Corporal.  What the hell were you thinking, working with Hesbani?  He slit your
throat, Hamish.  I watched him do it.


Aye,
he did, but it wasn

t him what
killed me, it was you, remember?  You made the choice.

 
He lifted his head to show a swollen scar across his throat that
almost put Sarah

s wounds to
shame.  It was a thick pink slug, slithering from ear to ear.


I

m sorry,

Sarah said, and meaning it wholeheartedly. 

I made the wrong decision.  I was afraid and it made me selfish.  It
still doesn

t explain all this,
though.  Killing innocent people doesn

t make anything better.  It doesn

t make anything right.

The sound of sirens came from
both sides of the river.  Police arrived in squad cars and blocked both ends of
the bridge.

Sarah raised her SIG, pointing
it right at Hamish

s chest. 

You

re finished, Corporal.  Stand down.

Hamish laughed. 

A captain is supposed to protect his men. 
You chose your own well-being over mine.  You turned your back on me, and then
guess what?


What?


The
goddamn government refused to pay my daughter any money because I wasn

t confirmed dead.

Sarah hadn

t even known Hamish had a daughter. 

I told them you were dead.  I said I saw
you die.


Aye,
I

m sure yer did.  Didn

t stop

em welching on their obligation to look after my family, though. 
Fucking crooks.


But
you

re not dead,

said Sarah, reaffirming her grip on her gun. 

So they didn

t owe you anything anyway.

Hamish growled, hatred
seething from his pores. 

I
was left for dead and abandoned by my bloody captain, not to mention I was kept
prisoner for a year.  Believe me, that

s as good as dead.


So
what changed?  When did you go from prisoner to terrorist?


I

m not the terrorist, the UK government is
the terrorist.  I realised that when one of their bombs hit a school in the
Afghani village I was being held in.  Do you know what it

s like to see children on fire?  It changes
you.  After that day, I begged Hesbani to let me help him get revenge.  Six
months later he finally trusted me enough to let me go back home, working for
Shab Bekhier of course.

Sarah sighed and her gun
lowered slightly. 

Mistakes
happen in war.


I

ll never accept that,

Hamish spat.
 

Not if it means seeing more innocent children die. 


Your bombs have killed children in this country,

Sarah said. 

You

re a hypocrite.

Hamish sneered. 

Our children aren

t innocent.  They

re brats bred on consumption.  Their sacrifice will help save the
truly innocent.

 


What happened to the man I served with?

Sarah asked. 

You were never like this.  You wanted to help the people of
Afghanistan.


You left him to die in the desert.


What could I have done?

Hamish swallowed and looked
like he might combust with hatred for her. 

You
could have done your job and protected your men.  You could have saved me, but
you chose yourself and that fucking baby inside of you.

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