‘I’ll admit those gun sights are dodgy, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me!’ Jason bragged.
‘Connor, aren’t you going to win me one?’ Elena asked, her expression hopeful.
‘Sorry. Closed,’ said the vendor, pulling down the gallery’s shutter with a forceful snap.
‘Now that’s a real sore loser!’ laughed Connor, quietly relieved that he wouldn’t have to measure up to Jason’s shooting skills.
They headed across to the ice rink, Jason and Anastasia walking at the front with the doe-eyed Minion in her arms. Connor thought about reminding Jason of his duty, then decided to move into primary position next to Feliks. Jason could take point for once!
‘Have you done much skating before?’ asked Anastasia, tugging on her boots.
‘A little,’ said Connor. He smiled to himself, recalling the times his father had taken him to Lee Valley Ice Centre in north-east London. Whenever he was on leave from the army, his father had always encouraged him to learn new things: swimming, riding a bike, making a campfire, navigating by the stars, kickboxing … anything he thought might be a useful life skill. Little could his father have known that ice-skating would help him protect a Russian billionaire’s son!
Although Lee Valley had been an international-sized rink, it was nothing compared to the one they were about to skate on now. Stretched out before them like an airport runway, the park’s outdoor rink was the length of three football pitches with a capacity for over four thousand skaters. With a wooden pedestrian bridge arching over the top, the huge rink encircled a neon-lit island of a snowy winter scene, complete with miniature houses, Christmas trees, reindeer and sledges piled high with presents. Connor couldn’t even see to the end and just hoped his skating skills would be enough to get him round and back to the start!
‘How about you, Jason?’ asked Anastasia, rising from the bench and heading for the rink.
Jason responded to Anastasia with a cocksure smile. ‘Australia doesn’t get much ice. But I’ll give anything a go.’
Feliks was booted up and ready to skate but didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect. A frown darkened his expression, suggesting he was still angry that Jason had won Anastasia the cuddly toy.
Elena led the way on to the ice, her friends gliding round with practised ease. Timur stationed himself at the rink entrance, his excuse being that he wasn’t ‘built to skate’. And, judging by the sudden look of trepidation on Jason’s face as he hobbled towards the rink, Connor guessed he wished he could opt out too. After a couple of faltering steps on the ice, Jason’s feet went from under him and he landed hard on his backside in comical style.
Feliks laughed loudly and cruelly, his mood instantly improved.
Connor couldn’t help chuckling too. After the shooting gallery, his partner’s ego needed some deflating. Stifling his own laughter, Connor skated over and helped Jason back to standing. It was a welcome change not having to compete with him.
‘This is harder than it looks,’ said Jason, his legs wobbling like a newborn deer’s.
‘Just have to get your balance,’ said Connor.
‘Let me help you,’ offered Sofia, gliding over with the graceful movement of a swan.
‘What about Feliks?’ Jason whispered to Connor as Sofia took his hand. Their Principal was still sniggering at his fall.
‘Don’t worry,’ Connor replied. ‘I’ll stick close to him. You can be the back-up.’
Leaving Jason clinging to Sofia, the group headed off round the rink. To Connor’s relief, skating was like getting back on a bike. While he probably wouldn’t attempt any fancy tricks just yet, he was more than comfortable moving forward, turning and stopping. For his Russian friends, skating seemed as natural as walking and Connor had to work hard to keep up. He skated as close to Feliks and Anastasia as he could.
‘Nice not to have Stas or Vadik spoiling the party for once,’ remarked Anastasia.
‘Yeah,’ Feliks agreed, suddenly turning shy.
Anastasia looked at him. ‘It’s good to see you relaxing and laughing too. You don’t do that often enough.’
‘Well … I’ve a lot on my mind,’ he admitted.
‘I’m sure you have, considering who your father is. It can’t be easy.’
‘No, it’s not,’ said Feliks, the frown returning.
‘But you must be proud of your father too, for taking a stand against corruption,’ said Anastasia. ‘I think it is very brave of him.’
‘And foolish!’ muttered Feliks, his answer surprising Connor. ‘He’s going to get us both killed.’
‘But he’s hired a bodyguard for you,’ Anastasia pointed out, glancing back at Timur. ‘And I suppose he has bodyguards too?’
Feliks nodded.
‘And other security measures?’
‘Yeah, we’ve armed guards on the gates, electrified fencing, cameras in all the ro–’
‘Wow, look at them go!’ Connor interrupted, trying to stop Feliks blabbing about the mansion’s security details in public. Anyone could be listening. A conga-line of skaters zipped past like an express train.
‘Let’s join on to the end next time,’ said Anastasia with an enthusiastic grin. ‘Sorry, Feliks, you were saying?’
Feliks was about to reply when Elena came up alongside. ‘You’re a pretty good skater, Connor,’ she remarked.
‘Thanks, it’s been a while,’ he said, already starting to feel the ache in his legs.
‘Let me show you how to skate backwards.’ Elena took his hands and spun so that she was facing him. Their pace slowed and Feliks and Anastasia pulled ahead. ‘See how I turn the toes in and make a C cut with each step?’
Connor nodded. While he appreciated the lesson, he needed to stay alongside Feliks. He tried to speed Elena along. As they passed beneath the pedestrian bridge, he happened to glance up and caught sight of a black-hooded face staring at him. It was the briefest glimpse and Connor wasn’t even sure it was the same man. Coming out of the other side, he looked back over his shoulder, but there were too many people on the bridge to confirm the identity. Yet Connor was deeply aware of his surveillance tutor’s motto: Once is happenstance. Twice is circumstance. Three times means enemy action.
If he spotted the hooded man again, he’d have to assume the worst.
‘Are you paying attention?’ said Elena.
‘Err, yes,’ he replied, turning back to her.
‘Then you have a go.’
As they were about to swap positions, a large man in a black ski jacket barged them aside and sent them spinning into the barrier. Elena crashed heavily on to the ice, cracking her head.
‘Hey, careful!’ shouted Connor.
‘You vatch it!’ the man spat back in a heavy accent. He powered ahead as if on a mission.
Connor helped the dazed Elena back to her feet and leant her against the rail. As she recovered from the blow, Connor looked down the rink. He was now a worrying distance behind Feliks and Anastasia. He’d have to catch up fast. Then he noticed three more muscled men in black ski jackets go flying past with no regard for other skaters. They appeared to be moving in a coordinated pattern: a pincer formation.
All four of them were converging on Feliks.
This time Connor knew he wasn’t about to cry wolf. Feliks was definitely being targeted.
Too far behind to warn his Principal, Connor launched himself away from the railing.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ asked Elena groggily.
‘Stay there,’ said Connor as he sped off down the rink in pursuit of Feliks and Anastasia. His blades cut deep into the ice, the adrenalin-fuelled muscles in his legs driving him forward, faster and faster.
Ahead, the four men were bearing down on Feliks like an unseen avalanche.
Connor weaved between the other skaters, ignoring their protests as he clipped their arms.
‘Jason!’ gasped Connor, activating his hidden earpiece and throat mic. ‘Where are you?’
‘Still near the main en
trance,’ came the reply.
‘Code Red. Little Bear under threat,’ said Connor, using the official call sign for Feliks.
‘Are you sure this time?’
‘One hundred per cent! In pursuit of four suspects now,’ he panted, almost careering into a young girl. ‘Tell Timur. Possible kidnap or kill.’
Connor heard Jason swear under his breath, then: ‘Meet you at Point Lima.’
From their pre-trip briefing Connor knew that meant the ice-rink entrance. ‘Doubt we’ll make it that far!’ he replied as he watched the four black jackets close in on their prey. ‘FELIKS!’ he shouted.
Feliks and Anastasia both turned. Connor waved his arms frantically at them to keep moving. ‘DON’T STOP! HAILSTORM!’
Several skaters glanced up at the clear sky with confused looks on their faces. But Feliks knew what Connor meant. Connor had forewarned him of certain call signs, Hailstorm being the code word for a full-blown attack. Feliks’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the four huge men heading towards him.
One of the black jackets spun on the spot and began skating backwards, hunting for the source of the warning. His eyes locked on to Connor. Skidding to a stop, ice chips flying, the black jacket now thundered towards him instead.
‘GO!’ Connor screamed at Feliks.
Quick to spot the danger too, Anastasia grabbed Feliks’s arm and raced off with him, the three other black jackets chasing them down like a pack of wolves.
Connor powered on. He was on a direct collision course with the fourth black jacket, who was shouldering people aside like bowling pins. An ice-rink attendant tried to stop the man but was knocked down with a vicious punch to the face. Other skaters jumped aside, leaving a clear path between the black jacket and Connor. As they charged at one another in a deadly duel of chicken, Connor pulled the XT tactical torch from his pocket. Closer and closer they got. Faster and faster they sped. The man’s eyes focused on his target, fists primed. Everything looked set for Connor to be mown down and sliced in half by the skater’s blades.
Connor steeled himself. Then, at the very last second, he flicked out the extendable baton, dropped on his side and slid to the left of the black jacket. As he slipped past, evading the man’s outstretched arms, the baton smashed across the black jacket’s kneecaps. There was a sickening crunch of bone and the man flipped forward and slammed face first into the unyielding ice.
A collective gasp of horror rose from the onlookers, but Connor didn’t even look back as he slid to his feet and kept skating. The black jacket was down and out for the count. That was all that mattered.
Further along the rink, Feliks and Anastasia were rounding the corner at top speed and heading back down the long straight to the main entrance. But the remaining attack unit was almost on top of them.
Connor skated hard, trying to catch them up. But it was futile. He could never make it in time.
One of the men grabbed Anastasia, her scream cut off by a large gloved hand. The other two caught Feliks either side by his arms and carried him off.
Leg muscles burning, Connor put on a desperate burst of speed as Feliks disappeared into the crowd.
‘Jason!’ he gasped into his throat mic. ‘Little Bear’s been taken! Heading your way.’
‘I don’t see him. I repeat, I don’t see him.’
Connor was fast approaching Anastasia. She was struggling wildly in her attacker’s grip. But Connor knew he couldn’t stop to save her. Feliks was his priority. His only priority.
Still, as he closed in on the two of them, Connor readied his baton to strike the man’s head. All he needed was a glancing blow. Twenty metres … fifteen metres … ten metres …
Just as he raised the baton, Anastasia drove the edge of her skate down the man’s shin and on to his foot. The sharp edge of the blade cut open his trouser leg and sliced off a layer of skin. Her attacker howled in agony. Then she elbowed him in the gut and in a miraculous display of skill and balance threw her assailant over her shoulder with a perfect o-goshi. The man landed with such devastating impact that the ice cracked beneath him.
By the time Connor reached Anastasia, she was free from her captor’s grasp and racing alongside him.
‘You OK?’ he asked, retracting the baton and concealing the torch in his hand.
‘Fine,’ she replied, her snow-white cheeks slightly flushed and her ice-blue eyes blazing. ‘Who are these guys?’
‘No idea. But I have to rescue Feliks.’
‘I’ll help,’ said Anastasia.
‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘I can handle myself,’ she replied firmly. ‘Besides, I’m a better skater.’
Connor couldn’t argue with that. Ahead, he caught a glimpse of the two black-jacketed kidnappers, Feliks still trapped between them, his legs kicking wildly. They were heading for a side exit. Skating in Anastasia’s slipstream to maximize his speed, Connor gradually closed the gap. But they were running out of time. Feliks would be off the ice and gone before they reached him.
Then out of nowhere Jason came barrelling up the rink the wrong way. Arms wheeling, body swaying, he careered down the ice and ploughed straight into Feliks and his kidnappers. The whole group tumbled over in a heap of arms and legs, more skaters tripping and landing on top of the pile.
As the two black jackets scrambled to free themselves from the tangle, Connor and Anastasia finally caught up, Anastasia ‘accidentally’ connecting her knee with one man’s jaw, and Connor driving the hexagonal strike-ring of his torch into the forehead of the other man. They both went out like blown light bulbs.
With the four black jackets neutralized and the rink in chaos, Connor grabbed Feliks and Anastasia held Jason as they skated hard for the main exit.
‘You did well to keep my son safe,’ praised Viktor, patting both Connor and Jason on the shoulders. ‘More than I can say for this useless lump of meat!’
He shot Timur a contemptuous look. The bodyguard was propped up in a chair in the mansion’s kitchen, an ice pack held to his bald head. One of the black jackets had coshed him from behind and left him unconscious outside the ice-rink entrance. As they were escaping, Connor had spotted his bulky form laid out like a discarded drunk in the snow.
‘You should be thanking Anastasia too,’ said Connor, their blonde friend having been dropped off on the way back to the mansion. ‘She tackled two of Feliks’s attackers by herself.’
‘Who’s Anastasia?’ asked Viktor, turning to his son.
Feliks was perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, cradling a hot chocolate. ‘Just a friend,’ he replied shyly.
Viktor’s eyes narrowed. ‘The same friend who invited you to the social club?’
Feliks nodded.
An impressed grin spread across Viktor’s face. ‘I’d like to meet this young lady. She sounds spirited. Let’s invite her to lunch.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ mumbled Feliks. ‘She’s not my girlfriend or anything.’
‘Not yet anyway,’ said Viktor with a wolfish wink.
Feliks’s face flushed red and he buried himself in his mug of hot chocolate.
‘Anyway, gentlemen,’ said Viktor, turning back to Connor and Jason. ‘Thank you again for your efforts. I –’
Dmitry dashed into the kitchen. ‘My apologies, Viktor. I came as soon as I got your message,’ he panted. ‘Are you all right, Feliks?’
Feliks worked hard to put on a brave smile. ‘Just about,’ he sighed.
Dmitry looked to Viktor. ‘Was this another Bratva message?’
‘At least another attempt at one,’ replied the billionaire. ‘The boldness of it has all the marks of the Bratva. But Connor says the men were all dressed in black ski jackets – a sign it could be an FSB agent job. Lazar has spoken with the police. Predictably there are no witnesses and none of the attackers were arrested. So, another cover-up, which indicates government involvement. So my guess is all three.’
Dmitry plonked himself down at the breakfast bar and held his head i
n his hands. ‘This is getting out of control, Viktor. It’s becoming more like a war than a campaign.’
‘Yes, and a war we will win,’ said the billionaire, pointing his finger confidently at his adviser. ‘We have the backing. We have the voters’ support. We have the will.’
‘Viktor, they went for your son,’ reminded his adviser, staring at the billionaire in disbelief. ‘Your enemies are taking no prisoners in trying to stop you. Are you sure you want to continue risking Feliks’s life for this cause?’
‘It’s his future that’s at stake here. His country. And I’ve already lost too much to give in. We must fight on.’ When Dmitry didn’t reply, the billionaire frowned at his adviser. ‘You aren’t losing your backbone, are you?’
Dmitry shook his balding head. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Good, because change doesn’t happen without sacrifice,’ stated Viktor. ‘Their failed kidnap attempt is our success. Proof they’re running scared. We can use it as a rallying cry for our cause. Expose the government’s dirty tricks against us.’
Dmitry glanced from Viktor to Feliks and back again. ‘You must be careful not to use your son as a political pawn.’
Viktor walked over and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Feliks is well protected,’ he said, giving his son a reassuring squeeze. ‘Now come, let’s discuss this elsewhere,’ he continued, ushering Dmitry out of the kitchen.
Once they’d left, Feliks remained staring into his hot chocolate.
‘You OK?’ asked Connor.
‘I just want to be on my own,’ he mumbled, not looking up.
Timur stood up and lurched away, the ice pack still clamped to his head. Jason shrugged and headed out of the door too. Connor hesitated, wondering if he should hang around a little longer. Feliks had been through a traumatic kidnap attempt and could be in shock. And Connor was sure it hadn’t helped Feliks to hear that his father valued his cause more than his son. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. Checking the number, he saw that it was Charley. He stepped out of the kitchen and into the hallway to take the call.
Bodyguard (Bodyguard 5) Page 11
