Bodyguard: Target (11 page)

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.

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.

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.