‘It doesn’t,’ she replied. But it would have been nice to be asked, she thought.
Blake hesitated at the door, clearly questioning whether to stay or not. Then he called to the others, ‘Play on without me. I’m taking a break.’
He sat next to her on the bench. ‘So, what does interest you?’ he asked.
Charley stared resolutely at her notes. ‘Surfing.’
‘I didn’t know you surfed,’ said Blake, surprised.
Charley looked sideways at him. ‘There’re a lot of things you don’t know about me.’
Blake flinched at the harshness in her tone. Charley didn’t know why she was being so rough on him. After all, he was the one who took her side and was pretty much her only friend among the recruits.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m a bit fed up, that’s all.’
‘About what?’
Charley sighed. ‘We’ve completed three months of training. I’m working as hard as everyone else, if not harder, yet I still don’t feel like a full member of the team.’
‘Of course you are,’ said Blake.
Charley raised a dubious eyebrow. ‘You all treat me as some sort of secretary rather than a serious recruit.’
‘I certainly don’t,’ Blake replied, his tone earnest. He slid closer, his leg now touching hers. ‘I mean, I appreciate you sharing your notes and all, but I respect you and your abilities.’
‘Thanks. I’m not sure the others do.’
‘Listen,’ said Blake. ‘It isn’t easy being the only girl among a bunch of meatheads, but don’t let them get to you.’ He glanced towards the open door, then back at her. ‘I like you,’ he admitted with a disarming smile. ‘A lot. And I hate to see you upset and lonely. Not when there’s no need to be.’
He leant nearer. Charley could see the intention in his eyes. Briefly she considered resisting. But Blake being nice to her meant a lot in the circumstances. And as he put an arm round her shoulders she could feel her defences weakening. She wanted to be accepted, to be liked.
Charley closed her eyes and parted her lips … but pulled away at the last second.
‘What’s the matter?’ Blake asked.
Charley looked at the door. ‘Didn’t you hear something?’
Blake listened. Everything was quiet outside. He shook his head. Smiling, he went back in for the kiss.
This time Charley didn’t pull away.
Just as their lips touched, an object clattered on to the wooden floor at their feet. It exploded and the summer house billowed with smoke. Within seconds the two of them were enveloped in an impenetrable cloud. Coughing and spluttering, they staggered out into the fresh air.
Jason and the other recruits stood outside, killing themselves with laughter.
‘What the hell was that?’ Blake exclaimed, tears streaming from his red eyes.
Jason laughed. ‘Bugsy’s smoke bomb!’
‘It looked like things were getting a little hot in there,’ sniggered David.
‘What is it with you?’ Charley cried, striding up to Jason, her pent-up fury with him spilling over.
‘Calm down, Charley. It was just a joke,’ he replied, holding up his hands and backing away. ‘The Four Cs!’
Charley glared at him, frowning in confusion.
‘We confirmed the threat: Blake.’ Jason grinned at his spluttering friend. ‘We cleared the danger zone. Now I’m afraid we’ll have to cordon off this summer house and control you two in future!’
Charley’s face reddened. With the boys’ laughter ringing in her ears and smoke still billowing from the summer house, she stormed off to her room.
Charley grabbed her duffel bag from under her bed and began shoving her clothes into it. Her cheeks were still burning with shame and her eyes tearful from the acrid smoke. She not only felt humiliated by the boys’ prank but was angry with herself for her moment of weakness. Labelled as Blake’s girlfriend, she’d never be accepted as a serious member of the team now.
While she’d made some headway in gaining their respect, she knew they still considered her the token female. Charley was equally frustrated with being the only girl on the team. Where were the others the colonel had promised to recruit? After months of persistent ribbing, sexist comments and snide remarks about her abilities as a bodyguard, she’d hit her limit.
Emptying the contents of her drawers into the bag, she then picked up the picture of her parents from the bedside cabinet. The photo had been taken the day she’d won her first surfing trophy and the memory was still precious. It had been a perfect day, the sky cloudless, the sun glinting off the glassy waters, the waves curling like massive scoops of ice cream. She’d surfed her heart out and blown the rest of the competition out of the water. She could recall her parents’ sheer joy at her achievement. They’d seen it as a milestone in her recovery from Kerry’s abduction. And looking now at the proud smiles on their faces Charley sat down and questioned what she was doing. Am I really going to give up that easily? Let those boys get to me that much? Let them win?
She remembered her mother once saying, ‘When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.’ And that was exactly what she was doing now.
There was a knock at her door. She glanced up to see Blake standing in the doorway.
‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ he asked, his gaze flicking to her half-packed duffel bag.
‘It had crossed my mind,’ she replied.
‘Come on – it was just a stupid prank,’ he said, sitting next to her on the bed.
‘I know that,’ said Charley. ‘But I’ve had enough of being the butt of all the team’s jokes.’
Blake sighed. ‘They don’t mean it personally.’
‘Well, it feels personal to me,’ she replied. ‘Jason, especially.’
‘He’s just jealous,’ said Blake, taking her hand.
‘Of us?’
Blake laughed. ‘No, of your abilities. I know it riles him every time you outshine him in class. He simply can’t accept a girl can be better than him.’
‘Well, he’d better get used to it,’ said Charley, returning her parents’ picture to the bedside cabinet. ‘Because I’m here to stay.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Blake, squeezing her hand affectionately. ‘Now, look, the team all know we like one another. So why hide it? Why not just make it official?’
Charley looked at him. It would be so easy to say yes … but she wanted to be accepted by the team on her own merits. Not as the girlfriend.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she replied. But first I have a point to prove.
‘No sparring gear!’ declared Steve to everyone’s astonishment. ‘This final Gauntlet will be a real-life scenario.’
A rush of adrenalin coursed through Charley’s veins and her pulse raced. The recruits had been preparing themselves for this unarmed combat assessment for the past week, but none had expected to fight without protection.
Steve chortled at the shocked expressions on his students’ faces. ‘On an assignment, you won’t have the luxury of pads and headgear, nor will your attacker be wearing boxing gloves. They’ll hit hard and without mercy. So get used to it. You’ve completed basic training – now let’s see which of you makes the grade.’
Steve approached Charley. ‘First or last?’
Holding her nerves in check, Charley replied without hesitation, ‘First.’
She’d trained hard in the gym every day and was at the peak of physical fitness.
The weeks of extra combat classes had honed her martial arts skills. So if there was ever a time to prove herself as a bodyguard, once and for all, this was it.
‘Remember, in a conflict you only get out what you put in,’ Steve advised. ‘Speed and aggression will always win, even if your technique is less than perfect. But perfect technique delivered with speed and aggression is unbeatable.’
Charley took her place at the head of the Gauntlet. The other recruits were limbering up and Jason stood at the far end, cracking his knuckles in anticipation, his eyes narrowed in an obvious challenge. Ignoring him, Charley bounced lightly on the balls of her feet and shook the tension from her arms. It was time to teach these boys a lesson.
Yet Charley was keenly aware the odds of surviving nine consecutive attacks were slim to say the least.
‘Begin!’ barked Steve.
With a last deep breath, Charley headed into the Gauntlet.
The first recruit seized her wrist as if to drag her away. Charley spun her arm in a high arc, spiralling her attacker’s own arm until the joints locked and pain forced him to let go. Gripping the boy’s hand, she then compressed the wrist joint and forced her attacker to the ground. To ensure he didn’t get up again, Charley delivered a swift kick to his gut, leaving the boy winded and wheezing on the floor.
Blake was up next. He swung a roundhouse punch at her, telegraphing it early to give her a chance to react. As much as she liked him, how she wished he wouldn’t keep making allowances for her. In the beginning, his gestures were appreciated, but now they felt belittling, as if Blake believed she wasn’t capable of defending herself against a real attack. She blocked it hard, striking at an inner nerve in his bicep muscle so that his arm became temporarily paralysed. As the pain registered, she delivered a one-inch push to his chest. Steve had yet to teach this technique to the other recruits, so it came as a complete surprise to Blake. Like a coiled-up spring, Charley drove her palm into his solar plexus and shoved him backwards. The super-powered push sent Blake flying. He landed in a heap on the floor, utterly incapacitated and fighting for breath.
The other boys immediately upped their game. The next recruit produced a rubber knife and thrust the blade at her stomach. With the speed of a panther, Charley shifted off line and knuckle-punched the back of the boy’s hand – her target a kyusho nerve point that sent a crippling stab of pain through the boy’s hand, forcing him to drop the knife. Then Charley reached for his face, clawed her fingers into his eye sockets and wrenched his head back. At the same time, she side-kicked the back of his knee. The boy slammed into the wooden floor.
‘Stay down!’ hissed Charley. Terrified by her wild-cat glare, the boy did exactly as he was told.
A moment later Charley was charged by Sean, an ox of a recruit. She stumbled backwards under his assault. Overpowering her through sheer brute strength, he pinned her against the wall and clasped his hands round her throat. Charley spluttered for breath. But she didn’t panic. Instead she swung an arm across and down on to his elbow joints. Sean collapsed forward under his own weight. Sliding aside at the last second, Charley drove him head first into the wall. Sean staggered away in a daze.
David now approached at speed. Charley flicked her fingers in his eyes. Half-blinded, David was unable to defend himself as she followed up with a kick to the groin. Although not delivered at full force, the kick was more than enough to drop her team member.
‘That’s for the smoke bomb,’ she whispered before moving down the line.
Having just witnessed David’s excruciating takeout, José hesitated in his attack. Charley took full advantage of this: she slammed an open palm into his chin. The impact compressed his jaw and caused José to black out momentarily. He slumped to the floor like a rag doll – a perfect stun-then-run manoeuvre.
With six recruits down and three remaining, Charley felt both elated and exhausted. Her breath was ragged and her heart pumping hard. But her merciless onslaught of the others had knocked the remaining boys’ confidence and she dispatched the next two with surprising ease.
Charley couldn’t believe it. She was almost at the end of the Gauntlet.
Only Jason barred her path and he didn’t look at all daunted. He threw a lightning-fast punch to her head. Charley ducked beneath it, only to discover it had been a feint. With his other fist, Jason caught her in the stomach and all the breath was driven out of her. Doubling over in pain, Charley was helpless as Jason seized her neck. Once again she found herself in a lethal chokehold.
‘Night-night, Charley,’ Jason taunted as he squeezed and blocked off her windpipe.
Charley knew there was little point in struggling – she couldn’t match Jason’s strength. With no oxygen in her lungs, she had less than ten seconds before she blacked out.
Fight smarter, not harder.
Following Jody’s advice, Charley reached across and took hold of Jason’s little finger. Hoping he’d forgive her one day, Charley wrenched it back until she heard a snap. Jason bawled in agony and instantly let her go.
‘It’s for your own good,’ she said, delivering his own line back at him, before striding the last few metres of the Gauntlet unchallenged.
Behind her, the sports hall was littered with groaning and injured boys.
Charley couldn’t help but smile at the sight. All her hard work and extra training had paid off.
‘She broke my finger!’ Jason cried in disbelief as he stared at his misshapen joint.
‘Stop whingeing, Jason,’ said Steve, inspecting the damaged hand. ‘It’s only dislocated.’
Without warning, he tugged on the little finger and realigned the bones. Jason let out a whimper and went white with pain and shock.
‘Man up!’ said Steve, giving Jason a pat on the shoulder. Then he headed down the sports hall to Charley. ‘Congratulations, that was a remarkable performance. Speed, aggression and technique – an unbeatable combination.’
He extended a meaty hand to her. As Charley went to shake it, she noticed her instructor had kept his other hand behind his back.
Always expect the unexpected.
Letting her instincts take control, Charley swiftly ducked under her instructor’s arm. At the same time, she kept a firm grip on his hand, rotating his whole arm until it locked out. Driving it upward, she forced him to flip over to prevent his elbow breaking. Steve landed with a heavy crash on his back. He stared up at her with a combination of pain and pride.
‘You made … the grade,’ he wheezed as the bottle he’d been concealing rolled from his grip and across the floor.
From the doorway came the sound of slow but appreciative clapping.
‘Charley, you’ve surpassed even my expectations,’ Colonel Black declared with a rare smile. ‘I believe you’re ready for your first assignment.’
Charley almost went into shock. It was only the second day of her assignment, but she couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. It wasn’t an attack, a kidnapping attempt or even a shooting. Her Principal, fifteen-year-old Salma bin Saud, had just bought a leather Chanel purse for more than a thousand pounds!
Charley knew that Harrods was one of the most desirable and expensive places to shop in the world, but she was truly stunned at the price tag – and even more taken aback by Salma’s blasé attitude to it. Then Salma spotted a matching handbag – a snip at just under two thousand pounds – and added this to her growing pile of luxury goods. This girl was spending money like water, not even batting an eyelid when the sales clerk rang up a final bill of several thousand pounds.
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For the first time Charley realized just how different this world was. Having been assigned as personal buddyguard to a Saudi Arabian princess on holiday in London, Charley was getting a rare glimpse into how the super-rich lived. It was surreal.
As the sales clerk bagged the stack of purchases, Charley recovered from her initial shock and returned to her close-protection duties. While no specific threat had been identified for the princess, her status and sheer wealth made her an obvious target for criminals and kidnappers alike. Charley’s eyes swept the department store for suspicious individuals and any possible danger. This being Harrods, there was ample security in place. Besides the discreet surveillance cameras and peak-capped security guards at the doors, Charley had spotted a number of plain-clothes officers wandering the aisles, impersonating regular shoppers. Harrods was as safe a place as any in London. Still Charley remained in Code Yellow, the relaxed yet alert state she’d been taught to maintain as a bodyguard.
‘Take those,’ Salma ordered.
Charley looked at the two neatly packed Harrods shopping bags, but made no move to pick them up. ‘I’m sorry, Salma, but that’s not what I’m here for.’
Salma glared at her. ‘You don’t expect me to carry them, do you?’
Charley blanched. ‘I need to keep my hands free in case there’s a problem,’ she explained.
‘Then carry them in one hand,’ said Salma, her tone indignant.
Charley didn’t know how far to push this. Her duty was to protect her Principal, not the shopping. Yet she didn’t want to upset the princess and receive a bad report. As Charley considered her next response, Salma retrieved the Chanel purse from one of the bags.
‘Fine, I’ll carry this.’ She sighed, as if she was doing Charley a massive favour.
Charley bit back on her tongue. Her bodyguard training may have prepared her for physical assaults, terrorist bombs and bullet wounds, but it hadn’t prepared her to deal with spoilt rich kids. Picking up the two bags, she followed Salma down the aisle and towards the escalator.
Bodyguard: Target Page 8
