Traitor

by Chris Bradford

  Leaving Big T to guard Ash, Charley headed up in the elevator and found his room. This time it wasn’t ideally positioned at the end of the corridor. But they’d block-booked all the rooms surrounding Ash’s to make the floor as secure as possible. Her room was opposite. She dumped her bags, then let herself into Ash’s suite. The VIP room was as luxurious as ever, if not more so, with its dramatic views over the turquoise-blue waters of the Biscayne Bay.

  She’d always wanted to visit Miami, and it certainly didn’t disappoint: the colorful art deco buildings lining the sun-kissed streets, the pure white sand of the glorious beaches and the trendy surfside hotels packed with celebrities and wannabes. Sets of waves peeled along the coast, beckoning to her as surfers rode the white water in to the shore. Charley was itching to go out on a board herself but doubted she’d get the time on tour. Perhaps, she thought, she’d ditch the planned rest and go surfing instead. But first she had to security-sweep Ash’s room.

  Charley checked the bathroom, a spacious marbled affair with a freestanding tub and walk-in shower. Then she returned to the adjoining bedroom and opened the mirrored wardrobes.

  “Did you lose something?”

  Charley spun around to find Ash at the door. “No, just checking for groupies,” she replied, echoing Big T’s answer.

  Ash laughed. “Now that would be room service!”

  He strolled in, glanced at the king-sized bed swathed in soft linens and coral-colored throw cushions, then went to the window and peered out at the idyllic view.

  “I haven’t finished my security sweep,” explained Charley. “It might be best if you wait in the lobby with Big T.”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” replied Ash. “I just needed to escape the madness downstairs.”

  “Does Big T know where you are?”

  “No. But I’m with you, so I’m safe, aren’t I?”

  Charley thought about insisting that he leave. She knew the room wasn’t technically safe yet. But, like Big T, she wasn’t employed to tell Ash what he could or couldn’t do. Besides, she was too tired to argue; she resumed her search.

  “So, do you always have a key to my room?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked under the bed, then opened the drawers to the bedside cabinets.

  Charley nodded. “So does Big T. In case of an emergency.” She pointed to the hotel map on the back of the door. “Speaking of an emergency, in case of fire, your nearest exit is to the right, five doors down.”

  “Boy, you must be a fun date!” said Ash, collapsing on the bed and scattering the carefully arranged cushions. “Don’t you ever relax? Let your hair down?”

  In recent days, she’d noticed Ash had returned to his usual flirtatious and slightly arrogant self. In fact, having bounced back from his low point, he was acting even a little hyper. She suspected he was still suffering from shock.

  “Sure,” Charley called from the lounge, “but not when I’m on an assignment.”

  “How many assignments have you done?”

  “This is my sixth.”

  “Six! Who were the five before me?” he asked.

  Switching on Big T’s bug detector, Charley began a scan of the lounge’s furnishings and fittings. “Sorry, that’s confidential information.”

  “Well, have you protected anyone as famous as me?”

  Charley rolled her eyes. “No, of course not,” she replied, holding the detector over the phone. “But they were no less important.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Ash asked, “Did you keep them all safe?”

  Charley thought about Sofia, the daughter of the Colombian minister. “They’re all still alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Having established the lounge was clear of surveillance devices, Charley slid open the door to the balcony and stepped out. The late-afternoon sun was warm on her skin, and the light sea breeze refreshing. The ocean was calling to her. She glanced down at the lineup of surfers bobbing on the water and longed to join them. A quick inspection of the balcony confirmed that it wasn’t overlooked or easily accessible from another room.

  Ash jumped from the bed and joined her. “Worried that ninjas are going to attack me? We’re four floors up!”

  Charley leaned over the rail and gazed down at the large oval swimming pool beneath, its waters glinting in the sunlight. “Just checking alternative escape routes,” she half joked. “You might be able to jump into the pool as a last resort.”

  Ash looked over the balcony. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

  Before Charley could stop him, Ash vaulted over the side.

  4

  “NO!” cried Charley, her heart stopping in her chest as Ash plunged to almost certain death. Gripping the rail so tightly that her knuckles went white, she stared after the diminishing body of the rock star. Images of newspaper headlines flashed before her eyes . . . ROCK STAR COMMITS SUICIDE . . . WILD LEAP ENDS IN TRAGEDY . . . accompanied by paparazzi photos of a broken body beneath a bloodied white sheet.

  A second later, there was a distant splash and a fountain of white water. Ash surfaced and whooped with delight. He waved up to Charley. “What a rush! Your turn!”

  Charley shook her head. “No way!” she shouted back.

  “Come on! Live a little!”

  Charley was sorely tempted by the challenge. But she knew it was utterly foolish. From four floors up and with several feet of patio to clear, there was a huge risk of missing the pool. You had to have a serious death wish to attempt it. Nonetheless, she found herself emptying her pockets, clambering over the rail and perching on the edge.

  “Take a leap of faith!” cried Ash.

  Summoning up the courage, Charley launched herself from the balcony. The wind whistled past her ears, her clothes flapping madly like a flock of starlings. For a moment the azure waters of Biscayne Bay filled her entire vision. It was beautiful. Then she glanced down and saw the patio rushing up toward her.

  She wasn’t going to make it.

  Arms and legs flailing, she braced for a bone-crushing impact . . . Then, by some miracle, her forward momentum carried her over the pool. She hit the water hard. All the breath was knocked from her lungs. Her feet touched the bottom and she kicked herself back up to the surface.

  “Whoa!” she cried, the tension and tiredness of the past week obliterated in a single mad leap.

  “Awesome, Charley!” said Ash, swimming up and hugging her. “Don’t you feel alive?”

  Charley nodded, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. For the first time in a long while, she felt exhilarated and unburdened by life. “You’re one crazy rock star!”

  “And you’re one crazy bodyguard,” he shot back.

  In that instant, their eyes locked and there was an undeniable spark. Charley had no idea whether the attraction was a result of their shared thrill-seeking experience or something deeper, but she reminded herself that was a line not to be crossed. A bodyguard should never get involved with a Principal. Besides, she had Blake to think about, didn’t she?

  “Hey, you two idiots! What do you think you’re doing?”

  They broke away from their gaze. A furious pool attendant stood at the edge of the pool pointing to a sign that read NO DIVING!

  “Sorry,” Ash replied. “Must have missed the sign on the way down.”

  The two of them swam to the side and clambered out. Dripping wet, they hurried back into the hotel and through the lobby. There was a burst of excitement as a group of fans behind a roped barrier spotted Ash.

  Big T came thundering over. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Ash! Don’t sneak off like th—” Then he noticed their soaking clothes. “What the hell have you two been up to?”

  “We took a dip in the pool,” replied Ash with a grin.

  Big T gave Charley a hard stare, his eyes almost bulging from their socket
s.

  “Don’t worry, I was with him the whole time,” she replied, edging past the mountainous bodyguard to avoid any questions about how they’d ended up fully clothed in the pool.

  Taking the elevator back to the fourth floor, they caught themselves in the mirror and burst into laughter at their bedraggled appearance.

  “I still can’t believe you jumped!” said Charley. “And that I followed. You really scared me. That was an insane stunt, you know.”

  Ash shrugged. “Live fast, die young, eh?”

  “Not too young, I hope,” she said. “At least not while I’m protecting you.”

  Ash looked Charley up and down. “Seriously, could you really protect me?”

  Charley’s eyes hardened and her nostrils flared. Just as she was beginning to like him, he had to put his big foot in his mouth and question her ability as his bodyguard—simply because she was a girl.

  “Don’t take offense,” said Ash, holding up his hands. “It’s just by comparison to Big T, weight for weight, you don’t look like you could pack the same punch.”

  Charley squared up to Ash in the lift. “Take a swing at me.”

  “What?”

  “Come on! Punch me. I dare you to!’”

  Ash became visibly flustered. “No . . . um . . . I . . . don’t hit girls.”

  Charley laughed. “Well, that’s my first advantage in a fight,” she replied. “Believe me, I pack a punch.” She thrust her fist forward, lightning-quick, stopping just as her knuckles brushed the tip of his nose.

  Ash flinched. “Okay, I believe you!”

  The elevator pinged and the doors parted. Ash was only too eager to step out. Charley laughed at his swift retreat. As they turned down the corridor, a hotel employee in a maroon uniform was exiting Ash’s room. He walked off in the opposite direction.

  “Hey!” called Charley. “Can we help you?”

  “Porter,” explained the guy, not looking back. “Just brought up your bags.”

  The employee disappeared through a service door and down the stairs.

  Surprised the man hadn’t bothered to wait for a tip, Charley followed Ash into his suite. While he headed to the bathroom for a towel, she collected her phone and belongings from the balcony table, along with Big T’s bug detector. She noticed she had a text from Blake asking her to call. The message was from his personal phone, so she knew it wasn’t urgent or mission sensitive. But the two of them hadn’t had a real conversation, one-on-one, in a while—the hectic tour schedule and the time difference making it hard for them to connect. When she was back in her room, she’d make sure to call him.

  “Sorry for what I said in the elevator,” Ash called out as she pocketed her phone. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Forget it,” replied Charley as Ash flashed his charming smile through the open bathroom door. She found herself gazing at him, their eyes lingering on each other a little longer than necessary. A slight flush rose in her cheeks . . . What’s going on? she thought. Ash wasn’t even her type. She tried to get a grip on herself. “Listen . . . I’m just going to my room to find some dry clothes. I’ll radio Big T to send up security.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  Charley opened it. A man in a maroon uniform greeted her with a tip of his cap. “Sorry to disturb you. I’m Christian, the hotel porter. Does Mr. Wild have his bags?”

  “Yes,” she replied, indicating the two suitcases embossed with his initials on the luggage rack.

  “Ah, good,” said the porter, evidently relieved. “I was concerned they’d been misplaced. But it appears your team has done my job for me. Have a nice day.”

  5

  “Did you get a look at his face?” asked Big T, sitting down opposite Ash and Charley in the suite’s lounge area, his ample bulk filling the armchair.

  Charley shook her head, her hair still damp and her wet clothes clinging to her body. “The first porter, or whoever he was, disappeared down the back stairs before we even got close.”

  “Rick, examine the hotel’s surveillance footage,” ordered Big T. The security guard nodded and headed for the elevator. “Have you noticed anything out of place in the room since you got back?”

  Charley glanced around. “No, nothing obvious.”

  “Ash, has your luggage been tampered with?”

  “Not as far as I can tell,” he replied, sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a hotel robe.

  “Well, until I give the okay, leave them be,” instructed Big T, his tone firm. “Charley, did you complete the surveillance sweep before your unscheduled dip?”

  Charley shifted uncomfortably under the bodyguard’s hard gaze. She sensed the big man held her partly responsible for this breach of security. “Pretty much. The room was clean.”

  “Sweep it again. Top to bottom,” he ordered.

  “Can I get changed first?” she asked, the air-conditioning in the room chilling her to the bone.

  “No,” said Big T emphatically. “This takes priority.”

  Rising from the sofa, Charley picked up the bug detector and began a second inspection without argument. At the same time, Big T carried out a full physical search of the suite. He started with the two suitcases, checking the locks for damage and any signs of tampering before sifting carefully through the contents. Once satisfied with the cases, he looked and felt under the sofa and chairs, behind the cabinets, inside the wardrobes and every other item of furniture in the room.

  With nothing better to do, Ash headed into the bedroom, threw himself on the king-sized bed, grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. He flipped through the channels to a classic rock show and turned up the volume.

  “Good idea,” Big T remarked to Charley as “Sweet Child o’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses blared from the speakers. “Anyone listening in won’t hear a thing over this!”

  Halfway through their rigorous search, Rick radioed up to Big T. Charley heard the conversation over her earpiece. “The security manager reran the surveillance feed for the last hour. A uniformed man is seen heading down the staff stairwell at sixteen-oh-seven hours, but his face is obscured by a porter’s cap. Then we lose him. Sorry, Big T, not much help.”

  “Roger that,” replied Big T. “Ask the hotel staff if they saw anyone suspicious or a new face on the team. You never know, we might get lucky.”

  Charley moved through to the bedroom. Guns N’ Roses had given way to Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

  “Find anything?” asked Ash, slumped against the pillows, his hands clasped behind his head.

  “Not yet,” Charley answered, waving the detector over a picture frame.

  “I’m sure it’ll turn out to be nothing,” said Ash. “Reception probably told another staff member to bring up my bags and the head porter is angry he missed out on a fat tip.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the case,” said Big T, entering the bedroom to the fading guitar distortion of Nirvana.

  “We Built This City” by Starship began playing on the TV, and Ash made a face in disgust. “Oh, this has got to be the worst rock song ever!”

  Looking through the drawers, Big T pulled out a TV remote. “Have you scanned this?” he asked Charley.

  She nodded. He was about to return the unit to the drawer when Ash switched channels.

  Big T frowned. “Hand over that remote,” he demanded.

  “Sorry, I didn’t take you for a Starship fan,” replied Ash, switching back channels.

  “I’m not,” said Big T, taking the suspect unit from Ash and examining it. As soon as Charley passed the bug detector over it, the detector vibrated and the indicator shot into the red.

  “Bingo!” said Big T. He prized open the plastic casing to expose a SIM card, microphone and transmitter.

  Ash stared in disbelief at the covert bugging device. “You can’t be serious! That’s James Bond stuff.�
��

  “Who do you think planted it? Gonzo?” suggested Charley.

  “Him or another pap guy,” Big T replied. “Whatever, someone is going to great lengths to keep tabs on Ash.”

  “Surely it’s illegal to bug someone,” exclaimed Ash, his tone turning angry. “Gonzo needs to be arrested for this!”

  “There’s no hard proof it’s him,” said Big T. “Besides, while unauthorized telephone tapping is illegal, bugs and covert cameras fall into a gray area of the law.” He snapped the SIM card in half, then crushed the fake remote in his beefy fist. “That’s one less bug to worry about. It’s just a shame we can’t do the same to the paparazzi outside.”

  Completing their surveillance sweep, they confirmed the suite was now clean.

  “Are you absolutely certain?” asked Ash, still freaked out by the discovery. “I don’t want strangers listening to my every word.”

  Big T nodded, then glanced at his watch. “You’d better freshen yourself up, superstar. We leave for the venue in an hour. Don’t worry, your privacy is secure, and I’ll post someone outside your door.”

  Charley returned to her own room, shed her damp clothes and jumped into a hot shower. As the water ran down her back and warmed her, she thought about the mysterious porter. Had Gonzo been responsible? Or was someone more sinister involved? It had been a bold tactic to impersonate a hotel employee and enter Ash’s room. Why were they so determined to spy on Ash? Was it purely to listen in and get a news scoop, or did they have a more dangerous motive in mind? There were too many questions and Charley had no answers. But she did have one idea.

  Charley dried herself, then clambered into bed and managed to snatch half an hour’s rest before they left. On waking, she hunted through her go-bag for what she needed, then joined Vince outside Ash’s suite. As the two of them waited for Ash to make his appearance, she casually leaned against the door frame and fitted one of the Intruder devices Amir had given her. Positioned at knee height, the pill-sized white sensor was barely visible against the white paint.