Bodyguard (Bodyguard 5)

by Chris Bradford

  ‘He got fired … literally.’ Feliks sniggered and made a gun with his hand, pretending to shoot both Connor and Jason.

  But Connor and Jason didn’t laugh.

  Early next morning, Connor’s alert level shot up to Code Orange. They were on the slow commute to Feliks’s school and he was studying the traffic through the rear windscreen, when a black Toyota Corolla appeared five cars behind. He’d spotted the same vehicle earlier as they’d turned out of the road leading to Malkov’s estate. If it hadn’t been for the street lamp on the corner, Connor would never have noticed it. With its jet-black paintwork and headlights switched off, the car was a shadow in the pre-dawn darkness.

  Only now in the reflected red glow of brake lights could Connor make out the number plate. But he was certain this was the same Toyota that had tailed their SUV through the Rublyovka suburbs and on to the Moscow Ring Road.

  ‘We’re being followed,’ he told Timur, who sat in the front passenger seat.

  ‘Da,’ replied the bodyguard, his bowling ball of a head not even looking round.

  Connor frowned. ‘Aren’t you worried?’

  ‘Nyet.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we –’

  ‘The FSB always follow,’ he cut in.

  Connor was surprised at the bodyguard’s lack of concern. The FSB was the main security agency of the Russian Federation. Responsible for counter-intelligence, counter-terrorism and surveillance, the organization was the strong arm of the government and sometimes used to intimidate political opponents – and even, it was rumoured, to assassinate them. As the natural successor to the infamous KGB, their presence wasn’t to be taken lightly. So Connor realized it shouldn’t be a complete shock that FSB agents were following them. As the primary opposition to the current government, Viktor Malkov would be the subject of intense investigation and his movements closely monitored. And that would include his son too.

  As they pulled off the ring road at the next exit, so did the Toyota.

  Connor couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder every so often. He found the shadowy figures in the vehicle sinister and unsettling.

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ said Feliks, without looking up from the shoot-’em-up he was playing on his phone. He was in the seat next to Connor, but until then hadn’t made any attempt at conversation. Connor wondered whether Feliks’s aloofness was due to social awkwardness or simply rudeness. Whatever the reason, the Principal seemed totally disinterested in both him and Jason.

  Connor glanced at Jason. He was on their Principal’s other side, dozing against the window. He felt compelled to wake him. Jason should be alert in Code Yellow in case of any threat. But Connor couldn’t blame him either. It was about 5 a.m. UK time and, despite having had a day to adjust, he was struggling to keep his own eyes open. On top of that, the journey was taking forever, the traffic snarled up along the entire route.

  The Toyota pulled up on the opposite side of the road as they eventually reached the International Europa School, a leading independent school for the children of Moscow’s elite. Connor turned to rouse Jason. But, sensing their arrival, he’d already snapped awake and looked refreshed and alert. Now Connor envied his partner’s power nap. Stifling a yawn, he stepped out of the vehicle. At once his tiredness was blasted away by the ice-cold wind.

  ‘Does the sun ever rise round here?’ Jason asked, pulling up his hood and surveying the darkened sports field.

  ‘Around nine,’ Feliks replied. Shouldering his school bag, he headed for the gates.

  Timur accompanied them to the main school entrance, then handed over protection duties to Connor and Jason with a monosyllabic grunt. The three of them crossed the inner playground, the previous night’s snow a mish-mash of footprints as more and more students arrived. As they walked, Connor instinctively fell in on Feliks’s right-hand side. The prime position for the personal bodyguard.

  But so did Jason – and they clashed shoulders. For a moment they jostled for dominance.

  ‘Take point,’ Connor ordered in a whisper, nodding to the forward position that a second bodyguard would normally assume.

  ‘You take point,’ said Jason.

  Connor glared at Jason, but his rival wouldn’t give ground. ‘We’ll take it in turns,’ he hissed.

  ‘OK,’ said Jason with an appeasing smile. ‘You go first.’

  Connor clenched his jaw in annoyance, but didn’t want to make a scene in front of their Principal. He moved slightly ahead and to the left of Feliks. This ensured that between them they had a full arc of view and their Principal was protected from the front, behind and to either side.

  Reaching the main building, Connor opened the doors, quickly scanned for threats – not that he expected any – then stepped inside. The school was busy with students arriving, teachers heading to classrooms and friends catching up after the weekend. As they made their way down the central corridor, Connor noted few people actually acknowledged Feliks, though some stared at him. Connor wondered if this was because of his and Jason’s presence, two new kids on the block … or was it something else?

  They stopped beside a row of lockers to hang up their coats and dump their gym bags. Connor and Jason kept their Go-bags to hand, masquerading them as normal school bags. As Feliks dialled in the code to his padlock, a slim girl with a high rollneck sweater and long ice-blonde hair approached. She wore a black oblong backpack and clasped a timetable in one hand.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she asked. ‘Do you know where Grade Ten maths is?’

  Feliks just stared at her, goldfish-like.

  She smiled at him. ‘Well, do you?’

  ‘D-d-down the hall on the left,’ Feliks mumbled, a slight flush to his cheeks as he fumbled with the padlock and opened his locker door, almost hiding behind it.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said with another burst of a smile. Her pale blue eyes briefly fell upon Connor, then Jason, before she strode away down the corridor.

  ‘Who’s she?’ asked Jason keenly, his gaze trailing the blonde beauty.

  Feliks buried his head in his locker. ‘No idea. Must be a new girl in my class.’

  Jason smiled. ‘I’m liking it here already.’

  Connor jabbed him in the side with his elbow. ‘Focus on the job,’ he hissed.

  ‘I am!’ protested Jason. ‘I’m identifying potential threats.’

  ‘And is she a threat?’ asked Connor, his tone sarcastic.

  ‘No … but I might be to her,’ he replied with a rakish grin.

  Connor rolled his eyes, wondering how Jason could forget Ling so quickly. ‘Let’s get to class.’

  Closing their lockers, they headed down the corridor only to discover the way blocked by two hulking lads. Like a couple of young bulls, they stood shoulder to shoulder, arms folded, nostrils flared and their brows furrowed.

  ‘Excuse us,’ said Connor, still on point and subtly shielding his Principal.

  The two Russian lads looked straight through him, glanced at Jason, then eyeballed Feliks.

  ‘Who are these two losers? Your bodyguards?’ sneered the slightly better-looking of the two. Blond-haired with a broad nose, square jaw and dimpled chin, the boy had an air of menace that went way beyond his intimidating bulk.

  Although he did his best to hold the boy’s glare, Feliks visibly shrank from his presence. ‘Kuzeny,’ he answered in Russian, a slight quaver to his voice.

  ‘Long-lost cousins by the looks of it,’ snorted the other boy, his rounded face pockmarked with acne. ‘Your papa having to buy in friends for you now?’

  The two lads laughed at their own joke as Feliks’s cheeks flushed.

  ‘What’s your problem?’ said Jason.

  ‘Him,’ the first boy replied, narrowing his eyes at Feliks. ‘And unless you two want to become part of that problem, beat it!’

  Connor held up a hand, ostensibly in peace, but primed for a one-inch push if the situation became violent. ‘There’s no need for –’

  ‘You beat it!’ Jason interrupted,
stepping between Feliks and his aggressors.

  Both the boys’ eyes widened in disbelief, evidently stunned that someone had the nerve to talk back at them. Recovering fast, the boy with acne squared up to him. ‘Or else what?’

  Despite Jason’s bulk, the Russian boy still had two inches on him and fists like rock-hammers. Connor laid a hand on Jason’s arm, signalling him to back down. But Jason shook it off.

  ‘Or else you’ll be swallowing teeth,’ Jason threatened.

  The lad grinned to reveal a mouth reinforced with metal braces. ‘Go on – take a swing at me. If you dare.’

  It was clear Jason would have to hit the boy very hard to dislodge any teeth. And if he did his knuckles would be shredded to pieces by the wire. Yet Connor could see Jason clenching his fists, the temptation to wipe the grin off the lad’s face too much for him.

  Connor had no idea what Feliks’s history was with these two bullies, but this wasn’t the best solution. And definitely not the best way to start their first day on the mission. As he moved to diffuse the situation, the bell rang for the start of lessons. In that brief moment of distraction, Connor grabbed Feliks and herded him along with the rush of other students past the two lads. Jason followed close behind, keeping guard from the rear.

  ‘We’re not finished!’ warned the boy with acne, jabbing a finger at Jason.

  Jason stared back, undaunted. ‘No, we’ve not even started.’

  ‘Who were those two?’ asked Connor, as the three of them took their seats towards the back of the maths classroom.

  ‘Stas and Vadik,’ spat Feliks, his voice and courage returning now they were gone.

  ‘What’s their beef with you?’ asked Jason.

  ‘Stas’s father is the Director of the FSB,’ Feliks explained bitterly, ‘so Stas acts like the school’s own head of secret police, with Vadik as his henchman. Since my father is in opposition to the government, they consider me fair game for interrogation.’

  ‘Well, they seem like a pair of knuckleheads to me,’ said Jason as their maths teacher walked in, sat down and began the register.

  ‘Luka Azarov … Stefan Artenyev … Klara Balashova … Jean Claude …’

  Connor leant over and whispered to Jason, ‘Yes, and you almost got us into a fight with them.’

  Jason looked blankly at him. ‘So?’

  ‘That isn’t the way to deal with this problem.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ he argued under his breath. ‘We need to make a show of strength. Otherwise they’ll think they can walk all over us.’

  Connor shook his head. ‘Our job is to deflect threats, not create them.’

  Jason frowned. ‘Surely it’s better to neutralize any threat before it becomes a problem.’

  ‘No! It’s better if they underestimate us.’

  ‘I disagree.’

  ‘Well, if you haven’t forgotten already, I’m in charge and –’ Connor suddenly became aware that the classroom had gone quiet and everyone was staring at them.

  ‘Sorry, gentlemen, am I interrupting you?’ the maths teacher enquired, glaring at them over the top of his half-rim glasses.

  Connor and Jason shook their heads. ‘No, sir,’ they replied.

  ‘Then pay attention!’ The teacher tutted, then returned to the register. ‘Jason King …’ he repeated as if talking to a five-year-old.

  ‘Yes,’ Jason replied somewhat sheepishly.

  ‘… Anastasia Komolova …’

  ‘Here!’ The blonde girl who’d earlier asked for directions put up her hand.

  Connor, Jason and Feliks all looked over to where she sat by the window, her hair glistening like frost in the morning sunshine. While there was no denying she was beautiful, there was also something hard about her; perhaps it was the way her mouth was set in a tight solemn line, or the way her eyes constantly scanned the classroom, the door to the hallway and the playground outside the window. To Connor, she seemed in a constant state of Code Orange, ‘focused awareness’ – a level up from the Code Yellow ‘relaxed awareness’ that they’d been taught to maintain as bodyguards. He guessed Anastasia was highly strung. Then again she was the new girl and probably hadn’t settled in yet.

  Once the register was complete, the teacher switched on the interactive whiteboard and instructed, ‘Turn to page thirty-six of your textbooks.’

  Connor did so and was confronted by a bewildering array of algebra and complex equations. Fortunately for him and Jason, since the Europa School was a mixed international school, English was the primary teaching language. But it was still a mental shock to go from ‘real world’ Buddyguard training and return to traditional education. During the course of the lesson, Connor’s mind was stretched and strained by the challenging mathematics. At Buddyguard they continued to have lessons on the core subjects, but everything was geared towards its application in close protection. In contrast, the equations set in front of Connor were far more abstract and demanding. The end of the period couldn’t come quickly enough for him. Nor for Jason.

  ‘I forgot how boring real school is!’ Jason complained later, as they finally escaped their third-period geography lesson for the lunch break.

  They crossed the frozen playground, passing clusters of pupils chatting excitedly, or playing football, or else heading towards the canteen. But Feliks made his own solitary path over to the food hall.

  In the canteen, they encountered Stas and Vadik again. The two bullies were pushing to the front of the queue, the other students stepping aside in fearful respect. It was evident Stas had inherited the formidable reputation of his FSB father.

  Connor and Jason flanked Feliks as they chose their lunch from the hot-food counter, collected their cutlery, then headed for a free table. As they passed Stas’s table, someone in their group heckled, ‘Dead man walking!’

  The jibe at Feliks triggered a burst of sniggers. Feliks did his best to shrug off the taunt, but Jason spun towards the source of the heckle.

  ‘Dead man talking, more like,’ he said, his stare daring the culprit to speak again.

  The heckler, a boy with dark cropped hair and a breeze-block head and body, rose from his seat. And kept rising. Connor wondered what the hell Russian kids were fed on – this one looked like he devoured at least a dozen syrniki every morning for breakfast.

  But Jason to his credit didn’t show any sign of fear … or backing down.

  A teacher on supervision duty glanced over at the scene. Connor turned to Jason, warning him to let the remark go. With reluctance, Jason backed down and walked away.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Feliks to Jason as they seated themselves. ‘It’s good to have some muscle on my side for once.’

  ‘Stas and his friends seem to have it in for you,’ Jason remarked, not taking his eyes off the bullies’ table.

  ‘All sheep are afraid of the lion,’ said Feliks. ‘My father’s exposing Russia for what it is and they don’t like it. Because many of their parents work for the government or have businesses connected with it, they’re worried their parents will be exposed too.’

  ‘Well, at least we know who to look out for now,’ said Connor, memorizing all the faces of Stas’s gang.

  As they tucked into their lunch, they heard Stas call, ‘Hey, new girl! Come and sit with us.’

  Anastasia, tray in hand, gave him a cool look and kept walking. She passed a table of her girl classmates – a spare seat available – before stopping beside Connor, Jason and Feliks. She glanced at the free chair next to Feliks.

  ‘May I sit with you?’ she asked. The smile she gave Feliks was dazzling. It melted the initial icy impression Connor had of her.

  ‘Sure.’ Feliks swallowed, looking half-delighted, half-shocked by the request.

  Jason sat up straighter, ran a hand through his shaggy hair and grinned as she settled down opposite him. ‘Hi, my name’s Jason.’

  Anastasia’s pert nose crinkled slightly in a question. ‘Are you … English?’ she asked, her accent soft, the r rolling off her ton
gue.

  ‘Crikey, no!’ exclaimed Jason, looking truly appalled. ‘Connor is, I’m afraid. But I’m one hundred per cent Australian.’ He leant forward, his elbows resting on the table. ‘I take it you’re Russian?’

  ‘And proud of it,’ she replied, shrugging off the hard oblong backpack and setting it down at her feet.

  Still trying to assess their new friend, Connor asked, ‘Any reason you sat with us and not the girls?’

  ‘I saw you guys stand up to them,’ Anastasia replied, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of Stas and Vadik. ‘No one else here seems to. And I hate bullies.’

  ‘Well, I don’t like bullies either,’ said Jason.

  Anastasia looked at Jason, gave a single approving nod, then forked some salad into her mouth. ‘So how do you three know each other?’ she asked, directing her question at Feliks.

  ‘We’re … cousins,’ Feliks mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  Anastasia’s ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly as she compared their features.

  ‘Second cousins,’ Connor explained quickly. ‘Visiting for a while on a student-exchange programme. How about you?’

  ‘My parents have gone away. New job. Again,’ she explained with a weary sigh. ‘So I’ve just started boarding at this school.’

  Connor eyed the unusual-shaped backpack on the floor. ‘What’s in the case?’ he asked.

  ‘A violin,’ she replied. ‘I’m on a music scholarship.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Jason, impressed. ‘I play a bit of guitar.’

  Reassured that the girl presented no threat to their Principal, Connor continued eating his meat and potato stew. Feliks single-mindedly focused on his lunch as Jason and Anastasia talked, but Connor noticed he kept sneaking furtive glances at her. He was obviously cripplingly shy when it came to girls.

  Towards the end of lunch, Stas and Vadik strode up to their table. Connor and Jason tensed, readying themselves for another confrontation. But Stas ignored them and smiled in the way a snake might. ‘Anastasia, isn’t it?’

  She nodded.