Soft Target (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) by Iain Rob Wright

Author:Iain Rob Wright [Wright, Iain Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-07-16T21:00:00+00:00

WEAKNESS

AFGHANISTAN, 2008

Sarah didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when they dragged her from the cell. They took Hamish too, who’d recovered enough from his beating to share his bread and water with Sarah. As it turned out, the soldier killed by the IED had been one of the privates, not Sarah’s corporal as she’d originally thought. Hamish had been dragged out of the Snatch shortly after Sarah’d been taken. He’d tried to put up a fight, but had been beaten bloody for it.

Now, they were being manhandled and dragged out of their cell. Every time Sarah stumbled, she received an elbow in the back or a sandal up her backside. She was subdued, but Hamish was irate. He bellowed and cursed, even when the men slapped and punched him for his defiance.

“Shut up, Hamish,” Sarah said. “They’re going to kill you if you don’t shut up.”

Hamish huffed. “They’re gunna kill us both anyhow. Why make it easy for ‘em? I’m Glaswegian. They can break my bones, but not my spirit.”

“They’re going to let us go,” Sarah told him. “Al Sharir told me so last night.”

Hamish looked at her quizzically. “Really?”

“Yes, so behave.”

Hamish was shoved in his back, but this time chose to remain quiet. They were taken to a dusty yard, walled off on all sides. There was a group of men there, Al-Sharir and Wazir Hesbani among them. A boy knelt, crying. He looked about fifteen, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It was only his fuzzy beard and cheap sandals that gave him away as a native Afghan.

Al-Sharir summoned Sarah and Hamish, who were shoved down on their knees beside the boy. Sarah gritted her teeth at the pain in her wounded thigh. The hole had been weeping blood all night.

Al-Sharir gave her a thin smile. “Hello, Captain, how are you feeling today?”

Sarah looked him in the eye. “Looking forward to you keeping your word.”

“I will keep my word, do not worry.”

Sarah let out breath. She’d been anxious that Al-Sharir would change his mind. It was a relief to hear that he hadn’t. “Thank you,” she said.

“We have some business to attend to first,” Hesbani said. “We won’t keep you longer than we have to.”

Sarah frowned. What business was there? She just wanted to go back to Camp Bastion.

A large crowd assembled in a semi-circle around them. Suddenly, Sarah felt overwhelmingly anxious.

Hesbani pointed at the teenaged boy. “This man has been found guilty of murder. Under Islamic law, he is to be put to death.”

The boy wept.

“He’s just a child,” Sarah said in disgust.

“He has been found guilty of the worst crime,” Hesbani told her. “He has slaughtered and must be held accountable to Allah.”

Hesbani struck the boy, bloodying his mouth. A man standing in the crowd caught the boy and kept him upright on his knees. The boy cried out louder.

“Leave him be, yer tosser,” Hamish spat.

Hesbani glanced at Hamish curiously. “What is tosser?”

“It’s a fella what hits kids.”

Hesbani sneered. “Then I am, indeed, a tosser.” He struck the boy again.

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