Bodyguard (Bodyguard 5)

by Chris Bradford

  ‘You’re in shock,’ said Connor, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

  Nadia flinched. She looked at him as if from a faraway distance. ‘You … protected me.’

  Connor nodded. ‘I’d made a promise to Jason that I would.’

  Nadia responded with a faint smile.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ he asked.

  She looked up at the sky, snowflakes and ash drifting down from the grey clouds. ‘My whole life has been spent preparing for this moment. Revenge was my only motivation – the only thing that stopped me going mad with grief. Now I’ve avenged my family’s deaths and delivered justice, I’ve no idea … I’m a bit lost …’

  Connor felt for her. Nadia’s family had been murdered in the most brutal way. Somehow she’d survived ten years alone with only the thought of revenge for company. So, despite having just shot Viktor in cold blood, she was the true victim, the one who deserved sympathy and help. Connor could see that Nadia needed a new purpose. A way to keep her life on track. And with her skills in martial arts, firearms and surveillance it was obvious she’d make a formidable bodyguard. Yet her recent actions really made her … an assassin.

  Still, there was always the chance of redemption.

  ‘Nadia, I can talk to Colonel Black about you becoming a buddyguard. There’s a possibility that, in light of everything, he’ll still consider you for recruitment.’

  Nadia gave a hollow laugh. ‘You really think someone would trust me with their life? After what I’ve done? I’m sorry, Connor, but –’

  ‘You weren’t interested in me at all, were you?’ said a forlorn voice from behind.

  Connor spun round to see Feliks standing beside his father’s bloodsoaked body, his eyes still glazed over with the shell-shocked look of a traumatized soldier.

  Nadia gave him a pitying smile and shook her head. ‘Sorry, Feliks, but no.’

  His shoulders sagged. ‘You used me to get to my father.’

  He bent down as if only now realizing that his father had been killed. Then he picked up the rifle, rested the butt against his shoulder and took aim.

  ‘NO!’ shouted Connor, leaping in between the gun and Nadia. He realized Feliks had cracked. The combined strain of the attacks, the fire and his father’s death had snapped his already fragile state of mind. Connor held up a hand, begging him to stop. ‘Hasn’t there been enough killing today?’

  Feliks gave a little shrug. ‘Perhaps … so what difference does taking one more life make?’

  Connor stood his ground, shielding Nadia behind him. He had his SIG in his other hand, but didn’t raise it in case he prompted Feliks to shoot. ‘Don’t do it, Feliks. This won’t solve anything. You’re in shock. You don’t know what you’re doing.’

  Feliks cocked his head to one side, his eyebrows wrinkling in bemusement. ‘You’re supposed to be my bodyguard. Well, if you won’t move, Connor, I’ll just have to fire you.’

  The rifle boomed and Connor was knocked backwards. He slumped to the ground at Nadia’s feet, his chest throbbing as if a locomotive had ploughed into it. But the bulletproof jacket had saved his life once more. Fighting for breath and consciousness, he looked up at Nadia and managed to gasp, ‘Run!’

  Nadia retreated a few steps, then stopped. She knew – like Connor did – it was pointless to flee. Feliks was a crack-shot with the rifle. If he’d been wielding a handgun, then she might have had a chance. But with a hunting rifle he would just shoot her down like a deer in the forest.

  She spotted her SPS handgun in the snow and dived for it. Snatching up the weapon, Nadia pulled the trigger. The gun clicked dry.

  ‘Oh dear, no more bullets,’ said Feliks, rechambering his rifle. ‘Would you like one of mine?’

  With a faint shake of her head, Nadia dropped her gun in defeat.

  ‘Go on, run,’ said Feliks with a sneer on his lips. ‘I’ll give you until the count of ten.’

  Nadia didn’t move.

  Feliks shouldered the rifle. ‘Ten … nine … eight …’

  She bolted. Connor watched her race down the garden, heading for the treeline.

  ‘… seven … six … five …’

  She wasn’t going to make it. Connor caught a glimpse of his SIG Sauer pistol half-buried in the snow. His fingers scrabbled for it, but the grip was just out of reach.

  ‘Four … three …’

  Feliks closed one eye and took careful aim. ‘Two …’

  Connor lunged and snatched up the gun and –

  ‘ONE!’

  A double blast echoed round the garden. Feliks let out an agonized scream and collapsed to the ground. Nadia whirled round like a winged bird, then crumpled.

  ‘NO!’ cried Connor.

  Ignoring the wounded Feliks and the pain in his own chest, Connor staggered down the garden to Nadia. She lay in the white snow, blood fanning out like red wings beneath her.

  Despite her injuries, she smiled up at him. ‘I told you, Connor …’ she wheezed, ‘that Russian girls are full of surprises.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he said, dropping to his knees beside her, his apology both for her and for the broken promise he’d made to Jason. ‘I tried my best to protect you.’

  ‘I know you did,’ she rasped. ‘I know Jason did too.’

  Connor stared at Nadia. ‘He knew about your past?’

  Nadia weakly shook her head. ‘No, but he was my lifesaver. Always will be. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have –’ She winced as a shudder of pain ran through her.

  Connor began to unzip her jacket, looking for the entry wound, hoping to stem the bleeding.

  ‘No, Connor, don’t,’ she said, grasping his hand with surprising strength.

  He looked at her in confusion. In the distance he could hear the plaintive wail of sirens. ‘But help is on its way.’

  ‘I don’t need help,’ she replied, squeezing his hand. ‘I’m ready to die … happy to die. Mama and Papa are waiting for me. And I’ll see my baby brother … very soon …’

  Connor felt her grip slacken and a final breath misted in the frigid air, hanging briefly over her … then it was gone. He continued to hold her hand, tears clouding his vision until Nadia was just a blur. Snowflakes fell, glistening against her pale skin as they settled on her face. Her ice-blue eyes gazed unseeing at the sky. And a serene smile graced her lips.

  Nadia was finally at peace.

  ‘The Black King is dead,’ announced Nika, pocketing her phone and approaching the two men who sat at the polished walnut desk in the centre of the Kremlin office. A chess game was in play, lit from above by a huge crystal chandelier.

  Roman Gurov pounded a fist into his palm, a grin of deep satisfaction cracking his stony face. ‘At last!’

  His opponent glanced up from the chessboard. ‘Any survivors?’

  Nika nodded. ‘Feliks Malkov and one of the young bodyguards, Connor Reeves.’

  ‘What about the assassin?’ asked Roman’s opponent. ‘The one connected to Equilibrium.’

  ‘Reeves reports Mr Grey was fatally shot –’

  ‘Good –’

  ‘But the body’s missing.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Roman, sitting up straight in his chair.

  ‘The boy showed our agent where the assassin supposedly fell. But there was no body, not even any tracks, just a patch of blood,’ Nika explained. ‘Either the boy is lying or the assassin survived and escaped.’

  Roman scowled. ‘Whatever the truth is, this assassin is alive and on the run. You need to find and eliminate him. We can have no loose ends.’

  ‘A full clean-up is in progress,’ Nika informed them with confidence. ‘But what about the Reeves boy? He’s currently being held by the police. You stated he was expendable.’

  The FSB Director rubbed a hand across his dimpled chin. ‘That I did. And after giving my son a black eye, expendable he is.’

  Roman’s opponent leant back in his chair and steepled his long fingers. ‘It might be goo
d to have a survivor or two, someone who can corroborate your story of a Bratva attack. If the boy dies in custody – especially a foreign boy with security connections – questions will be asked.’

  The FSB Director hissed through clenched teeth, then waved a hand at Nika. ‘Draft up a pre-prepared statement in Russian. Get the Reeves boy to sign it … whatever it takes. Then deport him.’

  ‘And what about Feliks Malkov?’ asked Nika. ‘He’s on his way to hospital but … we could let him bleed out before he got there?’

  ‘Death does solve all problems,’ agreed Roman, twisting the gold ring on his forefinger and nodding sagely.

  His chess opponent shook his head. ‘The boy’s death after the event might appear a little too convenient. Besides, the problem’s been solved with Malkov’s demise. Without their leader, the Our Russia movement is dead in the water. And the snake that is Equilibrium has had its figurehead cut off in Russia. It’ll be some time before they try to infiltrate us again –’

  There was a knock at the door and an elegant blonde woman in a smart black dress entered.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, President Blatov, but it’s time for your cabinet meeting.’

  President Blatov held up a finger. ‘One moment, Anya, I’ve some important business to finish.’

  As his PA left the room, President Blatov contemplated the chessboard for a moment, then picked up his queen and moved her three spaces, opposite the black king. He smiled in triumph at Roman Gurov.

  ‘Checkmate.’

  Alpha team stood in a small huddle round the open grave. A drizzle of rain thrummed upon the black domes of their umbrellas and dripped on to the sodden ground. The little tree-bound cemetery was nestled behind the school chapel, a solitary flintstone building with a single stained-glass window, and was home to a dozen or so lichen-covered tombstones. Among them, a polished white marble headstone glistened in the rain. In the distance the rugged peaks of the Brecon Beacons were shrouded in mist, and there was a chill in the air so deep that it worked its way to the bone. But Connor and the others ignored the cold as they listened in respectful silence to the priest.

  ‘We have entrusted the soul of our dear departed to God’s mercy, and we now commit this body to the ground,’ intoned the priest, reading from the red leather-bound book clasped in his pudgy hands. ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.’

  At the priest’s beckoning, Connor tossed a handful of earth into the grave, the dirt clattering sad and hollow upon the wooden coffin below. As he fought back his tears, he felt Charley’s hand take his and offer a consoling squeeze. The other members of Alpha team now cast their scatterings of soil and duly paid their respects.

  ‘It could have so easily been your funeral too,’ said Ling, resting her hand tenderly on Jason’s broad shoulders.

  Jason glanced up, his eyes rimmed red. ‘Yeah, I know,’ he croaked. ‘You’ve got Connor to thank for delaying that little celebration!’

  ‘And Mother Nature for turning you into an ice cube,’ said Connor, patting his friend on the back. Jason winced slightly, his wounds still raw. His face was pale and gaunt, dark shadows ringing his eyes, and he sat hunched and unusually small in the wheelchair. But he was alive – a miracle considering he had been clinically dead for almost two hours.

  The Russian doctors put his incredible survival down to two things: QuikClot and snow. First, Connor’s application of the clotting agent had stopped Jason bleeding out. Then the tomb of ice-cold snow that had slowly encased him had super-cooled his body, dramatically slowing cellular activity and leaving him in a state of suspended animation. This had given the medics the crucial time window to transport Jason to the hospital, complete surgery on his gunshot wounds and carry out a blood transfusion before his brain cells began to die. For several hours it had been touch-and-go. The groundbreaking procedure known as EPR – ‘Emergency Preservation and Resuscitation’ – was still in its trial stages. Yet, as Jason was resuscitated and oxygen reintroduced to his bloodstream, there was a huge risk of cell destruction, organ failure and even brain damage. But Connor knew Jason would be just fine when he heard his partner wisecracking to the doctor, ‘I’d need a brain for there to be any damage!’

  The funeral was not for Jason. It was for Nadia.

  With no living relatives or any money besides her school scholarship, she’d been destined for a pauper’s grave. And there’d been no way Connor was going to leave Nadia to be buried alone and forgotten in Russia. So he’d asked the FSB agent assigned to him if her body could be flown to Wales for burial instead. To his surprise, the agent – a tough yet striking redhead who’d introduced herself as Nika – had been extremely helpful. She’d just required him to sign some official documents first, each one in Russian and in triplicate. Then he’d been put on a private medical plane, with Jason on life support and Nadia’s body in the hold, and sent home.

  It was almost as if Russia couldn’t wait to get rid of them.

  ‘I know I never met her,’ said Charley, after scattering earth on her grave, ‘but from what I discovered during my research – once I had her real name – Nadia was a truly remarkable girl.’

  Connor and Jason nodded in agreement.

  ‘I’ve seen photos of her family’s farmhouse after the fire,’ Charley went on. ‘It was burned to the ground. I’ve no idea how Nadia escaped from that cellar alive. But she did. Then, despite horrific burns to her back and being only five years old, she managed to walk over ten miles through freezing snow to her grandmother’s house in the next village. Ten miles!’

  Charley shook her head in disbelief at the ordeal. ‘Then the poor girl couldn’t go to hospital or the police, because she was the only living witness to her family’s massacre. Which meant that she was a threat to the local Bratva gang and would be killed on sight. With corrupt officials offering her no protection, her grandmother somehow managed to keep Nadia’s existence a secret for almost five years.’

  The rain pattered loudly on their umbrellas as the funeral party listened in astonished silence to Nadia’s life story.

  ‘But Nadia’s troubles weren’t over,’ said Charley with a sigh. ‘She’d barely turned ten when her grandmother died. Imagine being ten, orphaned and a target for the mafia! No wonder she was desperate enough to join Chechen rebels. I couldn’t find out much about her time with them. Only that it would have been a tough life. But her skills in firearms, unarmed combat and surveillance proved her determination to seek justice for her family’s murder. The fact that she managed to assume a completely new identity as Anastasia Komolova and secure a music scholarship at the International Europa School proves Nadia was not only cunning but talented and bright.’

  ‘You mean she could actually play the violin?’ asked Connor, thinking of the deadly weapons the violin case had concealed.

  Charley nodded. ‘Nadia was a gifted violinist, according to her music teacher at the school.’ She swept her gaze round the congregation. ‘Nadia overcame every hardship thrown at her and never gave up. It’s a shame she didn’t live to become one of us.’

  Connor hugged Charley, as much to stop his own tears as to thank her for giving them Nadia’s life story. Everyone now knew who Nadia really was.

  Jason threw in his handful of dirt and, eyes red with tears, gazed silently at Nadia’s headstone. A small angel was carved on top, its wings spread in flight, and a few words had been engraved into the marble face:

  Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

  The simple yet touching service over, Alpha team slowly made its way back to Buddyguard HQ. Connor and Jason were among the last to leave. When the rain turned from a drizzle to a downpour, Ling unlocked the brake on Jason’s wheelchair, eased him round and rolled him along the path.

  ‘This is … only temporary,’ said Jason, grimacing with each bump and jolt. ‘Until I recover.’

  ‘Well, you’d better recover
fast,’ said Ling, fumbling with the umbrella at the same time as trying to steer. ‘I’m not pushing you around for the rest of your life.’ She glanced guiltily across at Charley. ‘I’m so sorry … that was insensitive.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Charley replied, and gave her own chair a pat. ‘If I have my way, this will only be temporary too.’

  Connor stopped in his tracks, raindrops splashing in the puddles at his feet. ‘You mean to say, you’ve been selected by that spinal research group?’

  Charley nodded, barely able to suppress her grin.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he said, a smile breaking through his grief. ‘This is wonderful news.’

  ‘Well, you’ve had a few other things on your mind,’ she explained. ‘And I thought it best to wait until the funeral was over.’

  ‘So, when are you off?’ he asked.

  Charley shifted awkwardly in her chair, seeming reluctant to tell him. ‘I fly to Shanghai next week.’

  ‘I still can’t believe you shot your Principal!’ Amir laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘Only in the leg,’ Connor replied defensively. He’d had no intention of killing Feliks when he pulled the gun’s trigger. He’d just been aiming to wound and stop his Principal shooting Nadia. But he’d been a second too late to save her.

  Connor plonked himself down in one of the armchairs in Alpha team’s common room. He felt flat and cheerless. He’d just come off the phone from his gran; his mum was stable but no better. She needed round-the-clock care more than ever. He’d also seen Charley off at the airport and already he was missing her.

  ‘Feliks more than deserved it,’ said Jason bitterly. ‘Just a shame you didn’t go for a head shot!’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Richie, sprawled on the sofa, looking up from his manga comic.

  ‘Harsh but fair,’ Jason muttered. ‘He killed Ana.’

  ‘Nadia,’ Connor corrected.

  Jason waved him off. ‘Whatever. She’ll always be Ana to me.’

  ‘And what will I be?’ said Ling, striding into the room with Marc. ‘Second best?’