Terminal (Major Crimes Unit Book 4)

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Don’t worry, it’s only a precaution. Once Maxim is dead, we’ll get these two prisoners to call off his reinforcements.” She nodded at the two men who had put their hands up. Both appeared confused.

  Maxim scoffed. “You cannot kill me. You are weak woman serving weak country.”

  Sarah raised the old Beretta and pulled the trigger.

  The woods lit up.

  The bullet struck Oliver Simpson right through the eyeball, killing him instantly and passing right through into Maxim’s chest. Ollie’s lifeless body slid out of Maxim’s grasp and crumpled against the floor, while Maxim wiped at his face frantically, blinded by blood and brain matter. He held onto the Colt Python, but he was too stunned to use it.

  Sarah took aim and fired again, shooting Maxim in the middle of the throat.

  Maxim fell back against the incline, still practically standing because it was almost perpendicular. He grabbed at his throat, gargling and fighting for breath, his wickedness replaced by terror. Sarah moved in front of him and looked into his eyes while he died. It took less than a minute. She didn’t miss a second, even to blink.

  One more evil son-of-a-bitch dealt with. One more piece of my soul gone.

  Out of interest, Sarah ejected the Beretta’s clip and checked it. It was empty. Her last bullet had been meant for Maxim.

  I won’t ever fire another one.

  Howard moved up beside Sarah, his breathing shallow. “What the hell did you do? You shot the kid. He was a hostage.”

  “I gave him mercy, trust me.”

  “Sarah…”

  A dozen rifles pointed her way, so she dropped the empty Beretta on the ground and put her hands above her head. She knelt down in the moss and tried not to pass out.

  It was time to see just how much her reputation would protect her.

  But whatever happened, she was finished at the MCU.

  She looked over at Oliver Simpson, the youngest person she had ever killed. A boy she had saved from a life of being a mass murderer in prison with a conscience. It had been a mercy. The last mercy she had left to give.

  I’m done with death.

  I’m done with this life.

  One month later…

  Sarah was surprised to find Howard waiting outside the Home Office headquarters in Marsham Street, but it was a pleasant surprise. The chilly weather of February had given way to a March more hopeful of warmth, yet he wore his long grey woollen coat and a pair of leather gloves. His face and hair were once again neat and trimmed. “Did they set a date for your execution?” he said.

  She shrugged. “The committee concluded negligence exacerbated by extreme fatigue. I said I was aiming for Maxim and took a bad shot. They couldn’t prove anything intentional. Six months suspension and thirty hours of mandatory counselling. Not bad, really.”

  Howard turned to face the other way, and they started walking side by side down the street. “Could have been worse,” he said. “Did you accept the punishment?”

  “I accepted the counselling, but not the suspension. I told them I quit instead.”

  He stopped walking. “You quit? Are you sure that was the right call? What would the MCU be without you?”

  She stopped walking, too, and she grabbed his hand. “There probably won’t be an MCU left after what Thomas did. Part of the reason they just went so easy on me in there is because they’re terrified of me making a fuss. The evidence you and I gave them sent a shockwave through the entire government. Once it gets out to the public there’ll be a mass culling – a herd of scapegoats. The Home Secretary has already been charged with corruption offences, and it’s going to be a long while before Maxim’s entire operation is exposed. I just… I just don’t have the strength left in me to weather that storm. I’m done. And that’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay with me. I brought you into the MCU. I feel responsible for all you’ve been through.”

  “Hey, listen to me. You saved my life by bringing me into the MCU. That day, when you found me losing my shit in a bank, was one of the best days of my life. It gave me a chance to rewrite all the wrongs of my past – Hesbani, Al-Sharir, my dad – but it also gave me back my future. I’m tired and troubled, but I’m strong and proud. And loved.”

  Howard nodded. “You are. The whole of law enforcement worships you.”

  “I don’t care about that. I’m talking about you and Jessica, Mandy and Mattock. You all mean the world to me, and if I didn’t have you all in my life I would have become something dark and twisted. Your positivity… Jessica’s no-nonsense way of dealing with my bullshit… You’ve each helped me get to where I needed to be.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “Home – but not a physical place. I’m finally at home being myself, and that’s why it’s time for me to leave. The MCU is a great place for penance, but I’m done trying to atone. No more chasing down evil and risking my life. I’m going to spend my future doing what I want to do, and maybe actually being kind to myself. I want to smile without a smirk, to sleep without keeping one eye open.”

  “I understand, and whatever you need, I’m here for you, but people are going to miss you.”

  She shrugged. “For a while, but life will go on. The MCU was a big part of my life, but I don’t want it to be the only part.” She looked at her watch, almost 5PM. “Anyway, I want to get a drink. You in?”

  “Actually, I was here to ask you the same. We all wanted to be here for the results of your hearing, and we decided to have a few drinks to celebrate.”

  “How did you know I would get off lightly?”

  He frowned but smiled at the same time. “Because there wasn’t a single person who gave evidence against you – and the new director of the MCU made a case personally on your behalf.”

  “Jessica went to bat for me?”

  “Of course she did. She gave the committee a right dressing down. Told them the Home Office would have remained a cesspool of corruption if not for you, and that Thomas Gellar and Maxim Ivanov would have brought the country to its knees eventually without your intervention.

  “Wow. Then I definitely owe her a drink.”

  “But that’s not what the whole celebration is for. It’s also for—”

  “Hey!”

  Sarah and Howard turned around, looking back towards the Home Office. Rebecca Simpson marched towards them down the pavement, face red with fury. She was glaring right at Sarah. “You killed him,” she shouted. “You shot my boy. My only child.”

  Howard went to step in front of Sarah, but she held him back. Instead, she stepped forward to face the woman down. “Rebecca?”

  “Don’t you call me that. Don’t you dare say my name. You killed my boy… my buttercup.” The woman was sobbing almost hysterically. She reached into her coat.

  Sarah leapt forward and grabbed her forearm. “Rebecca? I don’t know what you have buried in there – a knife, a gun, or whatever – but you need to throw it away. I know what I took from you, but this won’t give it back. Ollie told me about his sister. I know how much you’ve lost already.”

  The woman fought to reach into her coat, glaring at Sarah the whole time. “He wouldn’t have told you that.”

  Sarah breathed in the woman’s sadness. It came off her like perfume. “He did tell me. He tried to explain why he did it. He was a mixed-up, troubled kid that made a mistake. If he hadn’t been so intelligent, his mistake would have been smaller and he would still be with us.”

  “They’re calling him a monster. They’re calling you a hero for shooting him.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Fuck ’em. The newspapers don’t know shit. I met Ollie; I know he never meant to hurt anyone. He was angry and depressed, but he was just trying to find some meaning in his life. What happened was a tragic accident, but it was a mistake he would never have been free of. I shot your son because I wanted to save him from spending sixty years rotting in prison. Sixty years that would have twisted him into something miserable and unrecognisable. He wanted t
o die, Rebecca. He understood the alternative and wanted no part of it. I just wish…” She shook her head. “I just wish there had been any other way to save him, but there wasn’t. Ollie was a good kid.”

  Mrs Simpson nodded, but her sobbing increased. Finally, she stopped trying to reach into her coat. “He was!” she blubbered. “He was a good boy, and I… I let him down. After his sister died… I should have been there for him more.”

  “You did your best, I’m sure, but sometimes it just isn’t enough. The world has a way of biting the innocent. You think the people of flight CAS8-96 deserved what happened to them?”

  “I keep seeing their faces,” Rebecca said, her voice wispy and hollow. “Their photographs have been all over the news. Children. Even a baby. People throw eggs at my house. They post things through my letterbox.”

  Sarah nodded. “Eventually the jackals will move onto fresher meat, and your life will… stop hurting so much. The only thing I can tell you is that taking your pain out on me won’t help. You might think you’ll feel better killing me, but I promise you that I showed kindness to your son. I never gave up on him, and when I pulled the trigger, it was because it was what he wanted.”

  Rebecca bared her teeth. “Are you telling me he wanted to die?”

  “Yes. I’m telling you he asked me to end his life, and when I decided to do so, it was because I knew it was the kindest thing to do. You might disagree, and as his mother, you have a right to retribution, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Rebecca, I’m going to let go of your arm now, okay? If you want to hurt me, I won’t stop you. My advice, though, is to go home to your husband and try to deal with your pain another way.”

  Sarah let go of the woman’s arm. She sensed Howard behind her and knew he would probably leap into action if something happened, but she held true to her word and stood still, waiting for Rebecca’s decision.

  Please don’t shoot me.

  Rebecca’s arm lingered inside her coat. Her expression went back and forth between anger and sadness and rage. There were several moments when Sarah saw the woman make up her mind and choose vengeance, but eventually something else won out. She withdrew her arm and wailed in pain. Sarah stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her into a hug and telling her, “You didn’t fail him, Rebecca. He had a conscience. He was decent. The world may think of him as a monster, but they don’t get to tell you how to feel. It’s okay to keep on loving him. It’s okay to keep on living.”

  Rebecca shoved Sarah away, then turned and marched back down the street.

  Sarah stood for a moment, until Howard let out a gasp. “Jesus. Do you think we should call someone? What if she goes off on someone else?”

  “She won’t. That was the top of the mountain for her. Now she has to start the slow, painful descent towards something resembling an ordinary life. I just hope she makes it to the bottom in one piece.”

  “I can’t even imagine what’s she going through. Her son is the most hated person in Britain.”

  “That’s why it’s better Oliver Simpson is dead.” She shook herself, wondering if that was her last life used up. “I could really use that drink now.”

  Howard nodded. “Follow me.”

  It was one of the few London pubs not yet updated with a garish theme. Sarah enjoyed studying the horse brasses on the walls and the stains on the worn red carpet. Howard led her to a table near the back, where she found all of the people who mattered to her. They all stood and raised their glasses as she approached.

  “To Sarah,” said Jessica, out of her lab coat and in a shimmering blue blouse. “Bulletproof and Teflon-coated. I would sooner see the MCU burn than have you gone.”

  Sarah grimaced. “Well, I kinda quit my job. I’m done.”

  For a moment Jessica seemed mortified, but then she shrugged and raised another toast. “Well, here’s to me coming up with a pay increase that you won’t be able to refuse.”

  “Or a retirement party with all the honours,” said Mattock.

  Sarah smirked. “Congratulations on your new position, Director.”

  “Ah, don’t it just feel good on the lips? Director Jessica Bennett, MD, Phd.”

  “It sounds perfect. Palu is probably toasting you from Heaven.”

  “He was Sikh,” said Howard.

  “Toasting you from nirvana, then.” She narrowed her eyes at Howard. “Is that right?”

  “Not even close. What are you having?”

  “Lager. Pint.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Sarah sat down next to Mandy while Howard got her beer. Around the table were Mandy, Mattock, Jessica, and Matt. Matt’s presence was a surprise, so Sarah quizzed him. “How come you’re here?”

  “Several reasons,” he said with a smile. “Firstly, Howard contacted me and told me you were having a small remembrance for Thomas Gellar.”

  “He wasn’t all bad,” Jessica added.

  Sarah nodded. “He wasn’t. He just lost his way, made too many mistakes, and mistakes have a way of ruling the plans we have for ourselves. Just look at Oliver Simpson.”

  Matt nodded. “I saw Thomas sacrifice himself to try to help you. I never knew the man myself, but it felt right to raise a glass to him. The other reason I’m here, though, is because I applied to join the MCU.”

  “And I accepted,” said Jessica. “While I do love my young analysts, it’s nice to hire someone with a little bit of the old school about them.”

  “I have to admit,” said Matt, “part of the reason I applied was because of the chance of working with you, Sarah. Are you sure you won’t consider staying?”

  “My mind’s made up” – she looked at Jessica – “and no amount of money will change it. You should definitely work for the MCU, though. It needs honest men.”

  Matt blushed. “Okay, then I guess I’ll try to live up to the high bar you’ve set.”

  Mattock placed his pint glass down on the table. It looked like he had lost a lot of weight, and he moved stiffly, but the smile on his face suggested he was in high spirits. “Looks like this is our joint retirement party then, lass. Maybe we can start a canasta team.”

  Sarah wrinkled her nose. “No thanks, I don’t like dancing.”

  “No, it’s… never mind. I’m just glad to see you quitting while there’s still some life in you. You don’t want to wait until you’re all battered and old like I bloody well am. The soddin’ bastards almost fitted me with a colostomy bag. Thank the heavens it never came to that.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I’ll be around,” said Sarah. “I may be leaving, but everyone at this table is my family. And I still need my family.”

  “You’ll never be shot of us, lass.”

  “No way,” said Mandy. “I’ll happily be your honorary driver from time to time. Although I’m hanging up my keys. Jessica made me deputy director.”

  Sarah spluttered. “You’re kidding me!”

  Mandy’s face fell. “You don’t think I’m up to it?”

  “I think the role requires someone loyal, hardworking, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep agents alive in the field. Mandy, you’re perfect for the job.”

  “I thought so too,” said Jessica, sipping from her red wine.

  Mandy blushed, his face like that of a giant teddy bear.

  Howard returned with Sarah’s drink. She downed half the pint in one go. It felt great to get tipsy without the fear of suddenly being called in to deal with a crisis. She would miss the job, but she was eager to find a new purpose in life.

  One that lets me sleep whenever I want.

  Christ, I still haven’t caught up yet.

  The fallout after Maxim Ivanov’s death had been rapid, and Sarah had gone another eight hours without sleep before finally crashing at her flat in London. Then, fourteen hours later, she had awoken to a shite storm. The MCU had been suspended, pending a full investigation, and Thomas’s entire life was in the process of being ripped wide open. The files he had told Sar
ah about in the high street bank security locker were recovered and analysed. They gave evidence about every facet of Maxim Ivanov’s operations at home and abroad, and also exposed dozens of corrupt officials within UK government. While Thomas had been a bad guy, he had done everything in his power to one day redeem himself. The utter transparency of his files was the main reason the MCU had eventually reopened with Jessica as the new director. It was clear that no one had aided or abetted Thomas within the earthworm, and Sarah was grateful for that. It finally allowed her to forgive Thomas and move on.

  The investigations went on and on, however, like the one into Sarah’s unlawful shooting of Oliver Simpson. Luckily, as she had hoped, the MCU agents who witnessed the execution had spoken only in her defence. Not a single one had condemned her actions. That was why she knew she had to leave. If she continued as a senior officer in the earthworm after having illegally executed a hostage, then she would undermine everything the MCU stood for. She couldn’t allow her agents to take orders from someone who had taken the law into their own hands. They needed to see that there were consequences for what she had done.

  That was all in the past now, though. Tonight, she was unemployed and with a bunch of friends who were getting the drinks in. She needed this. Her life was just about to begin.

  But it can begin tomorrow.

  It was a little after eleven when Sarah stumbled out of the pub into the crisp night air. She needed a taxi before she fell asleep where she was standing. While she was moderately drunk, it was fatigue more than anything else calling her to her bed. The others were still inside, making merry, but she didn’t want the night to drag on. She didn’t want to risk booze-fuelled outpourings of the heart. She loved them all dearly and hoped they would remain a part of her life. If not, then she would at least always carry them in her memories.

  What a ride.

  Matt appeared on the pavement beside her. “Think I might call it a night too,” he said, “unless you fancy a nightcap?”

  She smiled at him cheekily. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”