Princess Bodyguard

by Sophie Thompson

  "I've got you secure."

  "The intel guys at the Embassy just called. They were able to uncover some interesting facts about your favorite bodyguard." Sam offered.

  "Victor?"

  "That's the one."

  "What you got?" Callum asked.

  "Well, for starters, he is not your average rent-a-cop. Try former Soviet special forces. When the wall came down, he moved with the rest of his cronies into the FSB, Russian intelligence. The guys at the CIA say he was top notch. One of the best. Then for no apparent reason when King William assumed the throne, he took over as Elizabeth's bodyguard."

  "Yeah, he was there the day her father showed up in Honduras." Callum remembered.

  "And, according to the official record has been assigned to her ever since."

  "What about the unofficial record?" Callum asked.

  "Ah, now that's where it gets interesting. According to the intel weenies, and I had to get the secret handshake for this, Victor is still on the books."

  "What do you mean?" Callum knew there was something more to Victor.

  "He is still active with Russian intelligence. Never retired. Never got the gold watch. The analysts found an off-shore account in the Caymans where he is depositing his extra pay check. So the next question is . . ."

  "What the hell is he doing with Elizabeth?" Callum blew out the breath he had not realized he was holding.

  "And, wait, you have not heard the worst of it."

  Callum wondered what was worse than Elizabeth being ten feet away from an active FSB agent with a gun.

  "Victor’s former commander in the special forces was Adrian Tolansky. Adrian Tolansky, is the . . ."

  "The current deputy commander of AP." Callum finished the sentence for Sam. "Shit."

  "Yeah, that about sums it up."

  "Tell Cal to keep eyes on him twenty-four/seven. Call this in to Edward and get extra guys assigned to the case. I do not want Victor out of our sites. Not for a moment. My gut tells me if we follow him, we will find Argent."

  "Roger. Hey, Mac, there is something else. We checked on the King's status." Sam said.

  Callum's mind was still focused on Victor and the fact that he was always two steps behind Elizabeth. It took him a minute to switch gears.

  "Yeah, what's up?"

  "Looks like your little buddy, Philip was right. The King did sneak into the country and was wheeled out on a stretcher. The report says he held up somewhere in the palace under tight guard."

  "The King is sick?" Callum immediately thought of the man who collapsed last night. Would anyone be bold enough to actually poison the king? And for what reason?

  "From the looks of it, he is very sick."

  "Does anyone else know? Elizabeth? Stefan?" Callum's stomach knotted. He knew how close Elizabeth was to her family. The King's illness would devastate her.

  "Stefan called Elizabeth earlier this afternoon and asked that she meet him in her father's chambers tonight at seven. Her reaction was normal. No concern registered in her voice. But Stefan's voice was stressed according to the monitors."

  So the Prince knows something and they planned to tell Elizabeth tonight.

  "Sam, get me that medical report. We need to get a blood sample and trace it against Argent. I don't have a good feeling about this at all. The King getting sick is too much coincidence for me to swallow. Did we get the lab work back on the blood sample from the man that collapses last night?"

  "Nope, still waiting." Sam said.

  "Get it to me as soon as you hear something. I'm going to go back and make sure they don't kick me out of the country."

  Callum needed to figure out a way to see Elizabeth privately. It was time she knew what was going on in her country and that her bodyguard was likely more threat than protection.

  "Roger that. Anything else for me, Mac?" Sam asked.

  "Just get me those lab reports."

  Callum hit a few numbers and the screen returned to a normal view. He took a deep breath and headed back to find Elizabeth.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth spent the rest of the day avoiding Callum. There were not many places she could hide. She did have work to do, but, her staff and Victor went out of their way to help her evade him. She looked at her watch. Seven o'clock. She was surprised when her mother asked her to go to the chambers in the west wing. They normally kept that wing closed unless there was an over flow of guests. The west wing was in desperate need of repairs they could not afford.

  After a few seconds, the queen opened the door. Again, Elizabeth wondered why Uri, the King's valet, did not do the honors.

  "Elizabeth, my dear." Her mother enveloped her in her arms and all of the cares of Callum and Watson and being a princess went away. It was just a mother holding a daughter and it felt good.

  Her mother broke the embrace but reached up and cupped Elizabeth's cheek in her palm. Elizabeth leaned into the warmth of her mother's caress.

  "Elizabeth, you look tired. Are you okay?" Her mother and she had always been close. Elizabeth wished she could tell her mother about Callum, but she saw the bags underneath her mother's eyes and knew now was not the time to bring her problems. Elizabeth knew something was wrong.

  "I'm fine, Mom. Just busy."

  Her mom looked at her in the eyes like she did not believe her, but thank goodness the queen did not press. Elizabeth was trying to get her last encounter with Callum out of her mind. She followed her mother though the elaborate suite to the sitting area where she sat down next to Stefan on the sofa.

  "How did things go today with the Americans? Is the memorandum of understanding ready to sign?" The queen asked.

  "Everything went well. We agreed on the final language. Things should be ready for the ceremony Sunday morning." Stefan offered.

  "That is wonderful news."

  Elizabeth noticed a subtle exchange between mother and son. She looked back and forth between the prince and the queen but neither of them seemed like they were prepared to share whatever it was that was on their minds. Already dealing with a full plate, she didn't push. Elizabeth glanced around the room thankful the servants had all departed. It was a rare occasion that the family was alone. Then it hit her.

  "Where is father?" The look passed between Stefan and their mother again. Now she knew something was wrong. She could see it in their faces.

  "What's going on? What are you two not telling me?" Elizabeth turned around and noticed that the double doors to the bed chamber were closed.

  Stefan turned to Elizabeth and took her hands in his. His handsome face wore a solemnness that she had not seen since her uncle had died and her father assumed the throne. "Dad is sick. He came down with something in Switzerland and the doctors can't figure out what it is."

  "What?" It felt as if she was one of those rides where the elevator shaft free-falls though the air. She prayed it would stop soon.

  Her mother sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Elizabeth felt guilty. She should be the one comforting her mother, not the other way around. "He was not feeling well when we left for Switzerland, but he insisted on going. You know you father. Then his condition got progressively worse. He had been bedridden for the last three days."

  "What's wrong with him?" Elizabeth tried to hold back the tears that she felt welling up. She needed to be strong for her mother.

  "The doctors have no idea. A specialist from Geneva saw him every day we were in Switzerland, but could not figure out what was wrong. They recommend a number of more evasive tests, but your father insisted that he postpone the tests until after the signing on Sunday. He does not want anything to jeopardize the agreement.

  "That's ridiculous."

  "I know, but you know your father."

  "What about medicine. Can't they give him something?"

  "They have. Unfortunately, your father is not responding to any of the medicines they have tried so far."

  "That's ridiculous. If he needs care, then he should get it regardles
s of the Americans or anyone else for that matter." Elizabeth insistent. Geopolitics should be the last of his concerns.

  Stefan stood up and began pacing the room. "I know and I told him so, but he is as stubborn as an old cow."

  "Stefan." The queen scolded.

  "Please, mother, you know it’s true."

  "I know, but you don't have to say it." She offered her son a weak smile then looked back at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth now noticed the fine lines around her mother's eyes and the sallowness in her cheeks. She took her mother's hands and tried to rub the cold out of them. Her parents’ relationship was solid and based on love. Elizabeth had always wished that her marriage would be much like theirs. This must be awful for her mother.

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I would have come out to be with you." Elizabeth did not think anything was more important than family.

  "That is the last things he wants. The press cannot get wind of this."

  "He only told me last week so we could be ready to sign the Treaty of Matvic if it comes to that." Stefan stood and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. He seemed as lost as Elizabeth felt.

  The Treaty would put Stefan in change of the monarchy as Regent until Elizabeth was officially coordinated as Queen. It would be up to Stefan to say exactly when they should transfer the power from a living king to his heir. Elizabeth knew that it was the last thing Stefan wanted to do.

  The Astorias were not a power-hungry family. They all believed that they were guardians for the people that had no voice. The Parliament still controlled the primary day-to-day operations of the country, but her father was the face of Corrania. She knew that if her father's condition got out that it would, at the very least, postpone the signing of the memorandum with the Americans. In the worst case scenario, it would give the opposition more time to rile up the masses and possibility stall the deal indefinitely.

  "Do the doctor's say he can wait until Sunday for the exploratory surgery?" No deal was worth her father's life.

  "They are not happy with it, but they agree for now. If things get worse, then we will reassess then." Elizabeth read the pain on her mother's face.

  "Can I see him?" Elizabeth glanced at the large wooden doors with trepidation.

  "You can, but the trip has worn him out. The doctors gave him a sedative, so he is sleeping."

  Elizabeth walked into the bed chamber with Stefan and her mother close behind. A single nurse was by her father's bedside reading a book. She smiled serenely when she saw the royal family at the door and excused herself to give them some privacy. Her father rested in the center of a massive carved wooden bed. He looked small and frail in comparison. The beeps and whirls of the machines plugged into her father's body were the only sound in the room.

  The king looked like a shell of his former self. His skin was grey and limp. His hair and lips were white. It looked as if all of the life was forcefully pushed out of him. She choked back a sob. Her mother and brother needed her to be strong. There would be time for tears later.

  Elizabeth walked over to her father and held his lifeless hand in hers. She wished there was some way for the energy of her body to thread out of her body and be infused in his. She would give anything to make him better. She looked back at her mother and brother. Their faces reflected the helplessness she felt.

  Elizabeth bent over and kissed her father on the forehead and told him that she loved him and she wished him a quick recovery. There was no response. Elizabeth's mother put her arms around her and led her back out of the room. Stefan closed the door behind them.

  With vision blurred from unshed tears, Elizabeth asked, "What do we do now?"

  "You must carry on with your duties as before. We are only letting a few of the most trusted staff in to help."

  Elizabeth could hear the exhaustion in her mother's voice.

  "But won't there be questions?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I have let the staff know that father has a nasty bit of stomach flu, but he is recovering nicely. We will continue to send the daily correspondence though him, but I will sign any official documents in his stead. It is just for the next couple of days. Then, as mother said, we can reassess." Elizabeth knew Stefan would do what he had to do. One foot in front of the other.

  The queen used the pads of her thumb to bush a tear that escaped off of her daughter's cheek. One she had not realized she shed.

  "Now, my beautiful girl, I believe you have a dinner party to host with your brother."

  Elizabeth shook her head in protest. How could she go downstairs and host a dinner party with her father sick upstairs?

  "I don't think I can." She admitted.

  "Of course you can. You are the Princess. And you father would expect it." The queen spoke in a firm unyielding voice. Elizabeth knew she was right. They needed to keep this close hold until they knew what they were dealing with. Elizabeth never wanted to be a doctor more than this moment. She wished she could do something to help other than paste a smile on her face and pretend like everything was alright, but Elizabeth understood her duties. Getting on with palace life and making sure everything ran smoothly was what her mother and father both needed. It was the least Elizabeth could do for them.

  "Of course, mother. But you must promise to keep Stefan and I updated and let us know immediately if there is any change of status." Elizabeth insisted.

  She felt Stefan's arm around her shoulder. "I've already made her make that promise three times over. Now let's go downstairs and make these damn Americans happy so when the King wakes up we can tell him that all of his hard work for the last year is now law."

  Elizabeth nodded her head hoping her smile looked as real as her brother's.

  Callum knew the king was in bad shape. Even without seeing the medical report Sam was working on getting, he could read it on Elizabeth's face. He doubted other members of the dinner party noticed the strain in her voice and the lack of enthusiasm in her mannerisms. She was like a statue smiling when she thought she should and nodding her head to feign listening, but she looked to Callum like she was about to fall over from exhaustion. He planned to give her five more minutes of this after-dinner cocktail mumbo jumbo and then he planned to figure out some way to whisk her away. Even if it meant working with the damn Russian that never left her side.

  "You were lucky that the order to have you thrown out of country ended up being a clerical error."

  "Yes I was."

  Callum turned to Phillip, who slid up alongside of him wearing a suit that looked like it had just come out of the dry cleaners bag. It did not have a single wrinkle or crease even though they had all just sat through a seven course dinner. How did he always look so damn perfect? It was creepy.

  "Would you like me to catch you up on what you missed in the morning session? We were able to hammer out a significant piece of the treaty. "

  Callum put his hand up to stop the man from his diatribe. "Please, Philip, don't go into detail about what "thee" and "thou" and "the party of the second" language. It was bad enough sitting through it this afternoon. I really don't need the replay."

  "If you don't care about these negotiations then why are you here?" Philip asked.

  "Because my government asked me to be. Just like you."

  "I suppose you would rather be in some rat hole with a gun trained on a terrorist." Philip said that like it was a bad thing. He and Callum would never be able to see eye-to-eye.

  Callum watched as Victor came up to Elizabeth and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, made her excuses to the group she had been speaking with, and left the room with her bodyguard. Callum's stomach turned sour. Now that he knew who Victor was, seeing him anywhere close to Elizabeth made him want to take the man down.

  "Yeah, Philip. I do prefer a fight where the good guy and the bad guy are clear and I can take the shot when I have it. In this world," Callum took a sip of his Cognac wishing it was straight Whiskey, "the lines are blurred and that does nothing but make me dizzy."
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br />   "Don't fool yourself, Major, your world is just a blurry as mine. You and your team may shoot the bad guys, but don't forget that we decide who those bad guys are at negotiations much like this one. You just have never been privy to this side of the fence before."

  "Yeah, well, now I know the grass isn't any greener. Excuse me."

  Callum handed his glass to a man with a silver tray and left the room. He tried to tell himself he was concerned about Victor and wanted to keep an eye on the bodyguard, but even he could not lie that well. He knew Edward would have agents on Victor. Callum wanted to see Elizabeth. He needed to make sure she was okay.

  All night he wanted to whisk her away from the crowd that surrounded them and take her somewhere private where she could let out the emotions that he knew she was holding back. She needed to cry. Scream. Whatever. Callum was scared that if she did not let her emotions free, she would burst from the inside. He had been there before and when that dam broke, which it always did, it was near impossible to put back the pieces.

  The corridors were empty except for a few uniformed staff here and there. He would not be surprised if she went back to her father's suite to check on him. Even he didn't have the audacity to barge in there, although he would love firsthand information on the king's condition. Callum decided to try Elizabeth's suite. He put his phone back in his pants pocket after confirming with Buzz, who had eyes and ears on Victor's room, that the bodyguard had retired for the evening and was tucked away in his own room for the night.

  Callum arrived at Elizabeth's doors and paused. He stood there and convinced himself that he just wanted to see for himself that she was okay. Then he would leave her alone. That's all. Liar a part of him screamed from deep inside. He suppressed the voice and rapped on the door with his knuckle.

  Her voice carried through the door. Even from this distance he could hear the exhaustion in it.

  "Come in."

  Callum walked through the vestibule only to find her sitting room empty. She called from the bathroom. "You can just set it down on the table, Marta. I'll make it myself . . ."