Bodyguard: Target

by Chris Bradford

  Charley whispered into her discreet lapel mic. ‘Bravo One to Delta One. We’re coming out. North exit.’

  ‘Roger that,’ came the driver’s reply in her earpiece.

  As they approached the exit, a concierge gave a polite goodbye and opened the door. The two of them stepped out on to Brompton Road.

  ‘Where’s my limo?’ demanded Salma.

  Charley checked in with the driver. ‘He’s stuck in heavy traffic,’ she explained.

  ‘Well, how long will he be?’

  ‘He’s not sure. There’s an accident blocking the road. I suggest we go for a coffee while we wait. There’s an excellent Italian cafe nearby.’ Charley had already researched the Knightsbridge area in case Salma wanted lunch. And sitting in a cafe was less exposed than standing in the street.

  ‘We have to walk?’ asked Salma. She looked horrified.

  ‘It’s not far. Just round the corner.’

  Salma shrugged. ‘I suppose it will be an adventure.’

  Charley informed the driver of the new pick-up point, then set off. Walking a step behind the princess, Charley kept a careful eye on all the pedestrians. Her nerves were tense. She had no intention of making a mistake on her first assignment.

  They turned into a quieter side street that led to the cafe.

  ‘Excuse me! Is this yours?’

  Salma stopped as a roughly shaven man in a jumper and jeans approached. He held a silver ring. ‘I think you dropped it,’ he said with a smile.

  Salma looked at it. ‘No, it’s not mine.’

  ‘My mistake,’ said the man. His smile vanished as he produced a knife from under his jumper. ‘That purse isn’t yours either. Hand it over.’

  Salma stood frozen to the spot as the mugger snatched the purse from her grasp. ‘Pay day,’ he growled, then waved the knife at Charley. ‘And the bags.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, calmly holding them out to him. If she hadn’t been carrying the princess’s shopping, she could have reacted faster. But now she had the bags she intended using them to her advantage. As the mugger reached out, Charley let go and the bags dropped to the ground. The man’s eyes followed them and Charley lunged forward. She struck him in the throat with the edge of her hand. At the same time, she seized his wrist, twisting his arm to force him to drop the knife. But, despite choking from the blow to his neck, the mugger managed to wrench free.

  ‘Bitch!’ he snarled.

  In his pain and anger, he lashed out at Charley and she leapt away from the lethal blade. As he came in for a second attack, Charley pulled a small canister from her pocket. Bugsy had supplied her with several pieces of high-tech equipment, including a legal pepper spray. Depressing the nozzle, she sprayed red gel into the man’s eyes. Blinded, he cried out and tried to wipe his face. This only spread the dye, making it worse. Charley side-kicked the man in the knee and he dropped to the pavement, bawling in agony. Without mercy, she stamped on his hand and kicked the knife away. Once sure he was no longer a threat, Charley gathered the purse and bags and guided the shocked Salma quickly away from the few amazed onlookers.

  The limo pulled up at the kerbside.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked their driver.

  ‘Fine,’ Charley lied, her heart pounding. Opening the passenger door, she ushered Salma into the back seat. Then, picking up the bags, she hurried round to the other side and jumped in. The limo drove off, leaving the mugger still writhing on the ground.

  The two of them sat in silence.

  Charley scolded herself for letting the mugger even get near the princess. She should have been aware of him much earlier. The ring had been a ploy to distract them and put them off-guard. It had almost worked as well!

  Charley noticed the princess’s hands were trembling. ‘Are you OK?’

  Salma nodded. ‘Is London always like this?’ she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  Charley shook her head. ‘No, not as far as I’m aware. We were just unlucky.’

  ‘Shame,’ she said, turning to Charley with a timid smile. ‘That’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. I was hoping we could do it again.’

  Charley stared at the princess, dumbfounded.

  Then the two of them burst out laughing, releasing the tension. Charley’s heart was still thumping and her nerves buzzed with adrenalin. But she had to admit the act of protection felt almost as thrilling as catching a wave.

  Only now, after taking out an attacker in real life, did Charley realize she was no longer a victim – no longer the vulnerable girl she’d been when her friend Kerry was abducted.

  Now she was a force to be reckoned with.

  ‘Was this hidden message your idea of a joke?’ Kay demanded, her green eyes blazing at the producer. ‘Because it wasn’t funny!’

  ‘Of course not,’ replied Don, visibly wilting under her ferocious glare.

  The other record company personnel sat rigid and mute round the conference table in Dauntless Records’ headquarters, watching the producer’s mauling with a combination of fearful fascination and evident relief that it wasn’t them.

  ‘Then exactly how did it get on to Ash’s song?’ enquired Kay.

  Don swallowed nervously. ‘I’ve no idea –’

  ‘You’re the producer, goddammit! You oversaw the recording process.’

  Running a hand through his greasy locks, he replied, ‘Play anything backwards and you’ll likely find something. People thought Led Zeppelin had inserted Here’s to my sweet Satan into “Stairway To Heaven”, but they hadn’t. The message in Ash’s song is just a coincidence – a phonetic reversal.’

  ‘That’s hard to believe,’ said Kay.

  ‘If you’re suggesting the message was backmasked on to the track, then I certainly didn’t do it.’

  ‘Could anyone else have tampered with the recording?’ asked Harvey, the vice president of Dauntless Records, a slick-suited man with a preened moustache and tight-knit hair.

  Don shrugged. ‘It’s possible but unlikely. They’d need access to the studio, and advanced knowledge of the recording process.’

  ‘Some zealous fan could have hacked into the system for a joke,’ suggested Joel, Ash’s sharp A&R manager.

  ‘The media believe it’s a publicity stunt,’ said Zoe, the PR executive, immediately regretting she’d spoken at all as Kay turned on her.

  ‘Is it?’ she demanded.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Zoe replied. ‘But it has rocketed pre-orders for the album. Whoever did this has done us a massive favour.’

  ‘Favour? This is a serious death threat to my client.’

  ‘Kay, might you be overreacting just a little?’ interjected Harvey. ‘It seems an extravagant way to send that sort of threat.’

  ‘Well, explain the text message … and this.’ Kay laid a sheet of pink paper on the table. Glued to it was Ash’s face sparkling with stars and glitter, the words NO MORE ENCORES! scrawled in red across his features. ‘You think I’m overreacting, Harvey? This was written in blood. Pig’s blood according to the police report.’

  ‘Aww, that’s creepy.’ Zoe grimaced.

  Joel leant forward to inspect the letter. ‘What sort of sicko slaughters a pig for ink?’

  ‘Possibly the same one that sends hoax letter bombs and subliminal song messages,’ stated Kay.

  ‘Has Ash seen this?’ asked Harvey, jutting his chin at the letter but not making any move to touch it.

  Kay shook her head. ‘No. I’m having all his
mail intercepted. He’s got trouble enough focusing as it is.’

  ‘Do you think he’s actually in danger then?’ asked Zoe.

  Kay nodded. ‘The threat against him is very real.’

  Joel coughed hesitantly. ‘You’re not thinking of cancelling Ash’s US tour, are you?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ replied Kay. ‘Pulling Ash out of the limelight at this point would kill his career. And I will not be dictated to by some maniac.’

  ‘Good,’ Harvey chimed in. ‘Besides, there’s far too much money at stake to cancel.’

  ‘The tour security needs to be airtight,’ Kay declared, producing a document from a leather-bound folder and passing it to the vice president. ‘Here are Ash’s protection requirements.’

  Harvey scanned the document. He looked shocked. ‘You don’t expect us to foot the bill for this, do you? He’s not royalty, you know.’

  Kay resolutely held his gaze. ‘Considering how much money Ash makes for your record company, he’s royalty to you. And, as per the contract I negotiated, it’s part of tour support.’

  Frowning, Harvey studied the document again, then pointed to a particular line. ‘What’s this extra cost here for?’

  ‘It’s for a company that deals in specialized close protection,’ explained Kay. ‘They come highly recommended by my inside source on the military security circuit.’

  ‘Look who’s back!’ said Jason, ditching his dumbbells and towelling the perspiration from his face.

  The rest of the team stopped their fitness training and turned to see Charley standing in the gym doorway. She was dressed in a running top and jogging pants, her hair bunched behind in a ponytail, face drawn and eyes ringed with tiredness.

  ‘How was Colombia?’ asked Blake, leaving the treadmill to greet her with a sweaty hug.

  ‘Tough.’ Charley sighed. She was exhausted after the long flight but glad to be back among the team again. It seemed as if she’d been away on missions forever. Each time she’d returned, Colonel Black had another lined up. Having completed five assignments in as many months, Charley was looking forward to a break – especially after the trouble she’d encountered in Colombia.

  Jason eyeballed her. ‘Dislocate anyone else’s fingers while you’ve been away?’ he growled.

  Charley held his gaze. While the rest of the team’s respect for her had grown with each successive assignment – as Jody had predicted, Prove yourself and you’ll earn their respect – Jason still hadn’t forgiven her for the Gauntlet incident. ‘No, but I did break a man’s kneecap,’ she replied.

  José laughed. ‘You’re one kick-ass bodyguard!’ he said, fist-bumping her.

  Charley appreciated José’s support, but it had been no laughing matter at the time. She and her Principal Sofia, the daughter of the Colombian Minister for Justice, had been in her father’s car when it was attacked by hit-men from a notorious drug cartel. Charley had barely escaped with her own life. Sofia hadn’t been so fortunate – as they’d fled, a stray bullet had hit her in the abdomen and she was now in hospital in a critical condition.

  Blake noticed the mournful look in Charley’s eyes. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she lied. ‘I’m just a bit jet-lagged.’

  ‘I bet you’re hungry after the long journey too,’ he said, putting a comforting arm round her shoulder. ‘Let’s go for lunch. That’ll make you feel better.’

  After freshening up, the whole team headed to the dining hall only to discover a queue.

  ‘Who are all these people?’ asked Charley, gaping at the unexpected line of kids.

  ‘New recruits,’ David explained. ‘Buddyguard is expanding to meet demand.’

  ‘Yeah, fresh meat!’ sniggered Jason.

  One of the new recruits, a petite Asian girl with a bob of jet-black hair and a silver piercing through her left nostril, glared over her shoulder at him. ‘At least we don’t smell like rotten meat,’ she said, wafting a hand in front of her nose.

  Jason bristled at the insult. ‘Hey, pipsqueak, we just showered.’

  ‘With soap or manure?’ retorted the girl, and everyone laughed. Charley took an instant liking to her.

  Jason clenched his fist. ‘Zip it, newbie, unless you want a fat lip.’

  The girl turned on him. ‘And how are you going to do that with your broken arm?’

  Jason furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘I haven’t got a broken arm.’

  ‘Not yet, you haven’t.’ She squared up to him, even though she was half his height.

  Jason puffed out his chest.

  ‘OK, let’s chill,’ said Charley, stepping between them and smiling at the girl. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Ling,’ she replied, her dark half-moon eyes still blazing at Jason.

  ‘Well, I’m Charley, and I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be the only girl here any more.’

  ‘Of course you’re not,’ said Ling, pointing to a small group of girls at a table beneath the hall’s main window. ‘You should join us, instead of hanging with this loser.’

  Charley was amazed at the sudden influx of female buddyguards at the school. Colonel Black had been true to his word after all. ‘Thanks, I’d love to. I just need to catch up with my team first.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Ling, flashing Charley a smile before narrowing her eyes once more at Jason. ‘Meathead here probably needs your help to eat.’

  Jason scoffed. ‘Can I borrow your bib and high chair then?’

  Ling flipped him the finger. ‘Eat this,’ she said.

  As Ling strolled away to join the other girls, José and David exchanged astonished looks at the girl’s brazen attitude.

  ‘She’s a fiery one,’ remarked Blake.

  Jason surprised them all by grinning and saying, ‘Yeah, I like her.’

  ‘Careful what you wish for,’ said José. ‘She might end up in your team.’

  ‘Jason’s team?’ exclaimed Charley as she chose her lunch. ‘What’s happened to our team?’

  ‘Given the number of new recruits, the colonel plans to split us into different squads – Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta,’ explained José.

  Charley frowned. ‘That’s the first I’ve heard about it.’

  ‘He wants us experienced buddyguards to babysit the newbies,’ said David.

  ‘Yeah, and by the looks of it they’re gonna need babysitting,’ remarked Jason, nodding in the direction of a skinny Indian boy. ‘Where did the colonel find that beanpole?’

  ‘Bodyguarding’s not all about muscle,’ Charley told him.

  ‘Well, let’s hope his brains are bigger than his biceps, for his and his Principal’s sake,’ muttered Jason, filling his plate with a mountain of pasta and sauce.

  After lunch, Charley chatted with the girls before jet lag finally caught up with her. Yawning, she left the dining hall and headed up to her room. But she was stopped at her door by Blake.

  ‘So, are you really OK?’ he asked. ‘I heard from the colonel it was a pretty rough assignment.’

  Charley responded with a tired smile. ‘Yeah, it didn’t exactly go according to plan.’

  ‘But you did your job and that’s what counts,’ he said, trying to reassure her. When she didn’t reply, he took both her hands in his. ‘I was really worried about you, Charley,’ he admitted.

  ‘That’s sweet of you, Blake. But I’m fine. It was my Principal who got shot.’ Charley felt a tightening in her throat. ‘I-I tried to give her body cover, but there were
just too many bullets flying …’

  Blake wrapped his arms round her and drew her to him. Charley closed her eyes and hugged him back.

  After the smoke-bomb incident, their relationship had stalled for a while. But Blake had been persistent and, against her better judgement, the two of them had become an item. Charley had made it clear, though, that they needed to keep it low key. She had no intention of being judged by their relationship rather than her ability as a bodyguard. Yet at moments like these she was deeply glad of Blake. Assignments took their toll and it was comforting to have someone she could talk to and rely on, even if they did barely see each other between missions.

  Blake lifted her chin with his finger and stared into her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ he said. Gently brushing aside a lock of her hair, he went to kiss her.

  ‘There you are, Charley!’ called Jody. Their instructor bounded up the stairs. ‘The colonel wants to see you right now.’

  The colonel’s office was a large wooden-panelled affair furnished with high-back red leather chairs and a heavy mahogany desk. The faint aroma of polished wood and rich leather gave the room an aristocratic air. Yet the antique design and old-world atmosphere contrasted sharply with the state-of-the-art LED displays on the walls and the ultra-slim glass monitor on the desk’s integrated computer system.

  Charley stood to attention in the middle of the room. It took all her willpower not to just collapse on to the carpet. Her body was weary and stiff from the long flight; her thoughts were chaotic and strained from exhaustion, concern for Sofia and dread at what the colonel had to say about the mission.

  Colonel Black leant forward across his desk. ‘It’s good news,’ he announced. ‘Your Principal Sofia’s on course to make a full recovery.’

  Surprised and relieved by the news, Charley felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. ‘I thought she was as good as dead.’