Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) (26 page)

BOOK: Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2)
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Sarah nodded. 

Somehow I lost sight of that.


You
weren

t fighting for your
nation before, Sarah, you were fighting for your government.  It

s not the same.  MCU is fighting the good
fight, for no other agenda than saving lives.  We don

t care about oil, political favours, or International sanctions. 
The only thing we care about is stopping the bad guys.  I think that

s what you care about too.  Perhaps it

s the only thing you have left to care
about.

Sarah looked at the doctor,
and for the first time admired her. 

Let me guess, you threw in a couple of psychology courses when you
studied for your medical degree.

Bennett smiled. 

Most doctors do.  How else are we supposed
to screw with y

alls heads?

Sarah chuckled. 

Thanks for not being the bitch I thought
you were, Dr Bennett.


Likewise.

Sarah heaved a sigh.

I need to say goodbye to Bradley, now.

Jessica nodded and left the
room.  Sarah knelt down beside Bradley. 

Hey kid, it

s
Sarah.  I just wanted to let you know that you were right.  The problem wasn

t with how other people saw me, it was
about how I saw myself.  If I hadn

t met you, I might never have learned that lesson. 

I

m sorry I never got to be nicer to you.  It

s my fault you

re
dead, but I promise I

m going
to get Hesbani and make him pay.  God save the Queen, Bradley.

INDEPENDENT
WOMAN


I
informed Breslow,

Palu
told them. 

She was
dismissive.  The Prime Minister is to remain in Downing Street until the
current crisis is averted.  People have rioted overnight in Birmingham and
Bradford, with more trouble expected.  She

ll be holding conferences all day, so there

s not going to be any opportunity to take her out.  She was
originally scheduled to attend the VE Day river parade, but she

s cancelled.


She
should have cancelled the whole parade,

Sarah said. 

We

re in the midst of a terrorist campaign and
people are packing their sandwiches to go and stand by the river.

Howard was frowning. 

Hesbani has this all wrong.  He

d
know that Prime Minister would remain at Downing Street after all these
attacks.  Why would he not assassinate her first, then explode the suicide
bombs?


Something about this doesn

t add up,

agreed Sarah. 

I don

t buy Breslow as a big enough target for Hesbani.  He wants to
become a hero to the terrorist community.  Breslow isn

t important enough.


I
dare say I agree,

Bennett
said. 

No disrespect, but your
Prime Minister is a fairly benign figure in world events today.  Assassinating
Sir Ian McKellen would probably hurt the country more.

Howard winced. 

Nobody wants to see Gandalf die.


So
what are we thinking, then?

Palu
asked. 

Who

s a bigger target than the Prime Minister? 
Who

s the

figurehead

Hesbani plans to assassinate?

 

The Queen,

Sarah
said, knowing it to be true.  Bradley

s unashamed love for the royal family was indicative of a large
portion of the country.  The Queen was the very embodiment of British pride. 
She was the symbol of the British Empire. 

Hesbani wants to punish us for our imperialistic past.  What person
represents the British Empire more than the Queen?


There

s no way for knowing for certain,

Howard said,

but I
buy it.  The Queen would be the jewel in a terrorist

s crown, excuse the pun.


How
could Hesbani hope to assassinate the Queen?

Bennett said. 

She

s hardly ever in public.


Except
for today,

Howard said. 

It

s May eighth, VE Day.  The Queen is scheduled to travel via barge
down the Thames.  She

ll be awarding veteran medals on the stretch of river in front of
Westminster at the end of the River Parade.

Sarah shook her head. 

How the hell can we be having a parade when
half-a-dozen villages have been bombed?


That

s exactly why,

Palu said. 

The
Queen has already spoken out against the terrorists, making clear that her
plans will not be altered by fear or demand.  Today is about remembering the
men and woman who fight for our freedom.  It would be a great disservice to
cancel because of monsters like Hesbani
.


I can
see why Bradley loved the old dear,

Sarah commented. 

She

s got balls.


We
should warn Her Majesty,

Bennett
said.

Sarah shook her head. 

If we do that, Hesbani might disappear. 
Our best chance of getting him is out in the open.  He doesn

t know what we found at the station house. 
As long as he remains in the dark, we have the upper hand.

Bennett folded her arms. 

It

s unethical not to warn her.


So is
letting Hesbani escape.

Palu motioned for silence. 

We

ll hold off on warning the royal household for now.  We don

t know what other threats Hesbani might be planning.  We need to
take him alive and before any more bombs go off.  The speech mentions that our
capital is in ruins.  I believe there are more targets we don

t yet know about.
 

Howard bashed his fist down on
the desk. 

Christ!  Where does this end?


I think he

ll be focused on hitting Westminster,

Sarah said. 

Hesbani will want something iconic.  What would be a more lasting
image than the Houses of Parliament burning?

Palu nodded. 

We need to get bodies on the ground.  Howard and Sarah, get to
Westminster and find Hesbani.  Dr Bennett and I will coordinate from here.  The
Scotland Yard swoop is in progress as we speak.  Soon as I hear anything, I

ll let you know what we have.

Sarah nodded. 

What about Mattock

s team?  We need everyone we can get.


Agreed. 
As soon as Mandy is here, I

ll
send Mattock to assist you.  Get yourselves armed, I want you on the road in
ten.


Good
work, partner,

Howard
told Sarah as they left the conference room.


We

re not partners yet.

Howard frowned.

She patted him on the back. 

I still need to earn that honour.

Howard took her to the armoury
again, where she replaced her stolen SIG with another.  They both strapped on
Kevlar vests beneath their clothes, and then left.

Sarah knew her way around the
Earthworm well enough by now that she made it out into the derelict farm only a
few minutes later.  The MCU was beginning to feel like home. 

She and Howard started up the
remaining Jag and got going.  By the time they reached the highway, the
lunchtime rush had started.  Despite all of the devastation, people still had to
earn a living. 

Once upon a time, the people
of Britain would have banded together in a crisis like this, lining the streets
in solidarity.  Nowadays, people acted like nothing happened.  They lived life
as individuals, where once they had been a community.  Sarah wondered if the
country would ever get back to those days of unified spirit. 

The lunchtime rush hour
resulted in the drive being more than an hour.  By the time they managed to
park on Great College Street, opposite Big Ben, it was 1.30PM.  The Queen was
due to appear at 3PM.

Howard rummaged in the boot of
the Jag for his jacket while Sarah surveyed the area.  Westminster seemed
ancient in the soft sunlight.    The sharp spikes of the Parliament buildings
seemed to catch the light and sparkle like a castle out of Camelot.  The nearby
river only added to the fantasy.  What ruined it was the endless lines of
beeping traffic and photo-snapping tourists.  People were already lining the
banks of the Thames, investing hours of their time to get a decent spot for the
short-lived festivities.  Sarah hoped they didn

t end up getting a show they weren

t expecting.  If the Queen was shot, the whole world would see it
live.  Even now, there were news helicopters hovering.  Their cameras wouldn

t miss a thing.  It was the grandest place
in the city, making it the grandest place to assassinate a monarch.


Where
do we start?

Howard asked, closing
the boot.  He handed her a small radio, which she attached to the lapel of her
jacket.


The
officers killed in front of Scotland Yard were hit by a sniper, right?  My
guess would be that Hesbani is planning to hit Her Majesty as she comes down
the river.

Nearby, a gentleman smoking a
cigarette gave her an astonished glance.  He

d obviously heard her.


Hey,

Sarah shouted at the guy. 

Go smoke that somewhere else before I stub it out in your eye.

The man hurried away.

Howard frowned. 

I thought you were going to go with a
different attitude.


I
am.  Did you hear me use any bad language?

Howard smirked. 

Well done.


Thank
you.  Now, if I were a sniper, where would I perch?

Howard looked up at Big Ben. 

How

bout up there?

Sarah considered the bell
tower behind the giant clock and knew it looked right out over the Thames.  If
for nothing else, it would be a good place for Sarah and Howard to survey the
area.


Okay,
make a call or something.  Get us inside.

Howard called Palu, who got
them clearance right away.  There was a security guard at the front entrance
who was expecting them, and they were shown inside immediately. 


How
easy is it to access Big Ben,

Sarah
glanced at the guard

s name
badge,

David?


Technically
Big Ben is the name of the bell, sweetheart.  The tower itself is called the
Elizabeth Tower.  To answer your question, though, there are sporadic tours,
usually arranged by local MPs trying to impress their constituents, but during
special occasions the tower is completely off-limits.  Bomb threats tend to be
the greatest concern, especially on days like today.  What are you, MI5,
Special Branch?  I was going to apply to join the Met, but got myself a dodgy
knee.  So what are you looking for?  You can tell me, I

ve
signed all the confidentiality forms.


What
about snipers?

Howard
asked, ignoring David

s babble.

David shrugged.   His shoulders
were wide but his belly was fat.  It didn

t look like the guy had ever made the trip to the top of the tower
himself. 

It

s a good spot, I guess, but this place is
never empty.  I think a sniper probably wants to be hidden, don

t he, so this wouldn

t be a good place.

Sarah was disappointed. 
Hesbani wasn

t going to be so
easily predictable.  She wondered if he was the sniper, or was it Hamish, or
the woman in the burkha?  She didn

t remember Hamish having any particular skill with a rifle and
Hesbani

s fondness for knives
made her pretty sure he wouldn

t
be found behind a sniper

s scope.  That left the women in the burkha.  Who the hell was she?

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