Bodyguard: Target (13 page)

‘The rock star?’ questioned
Blake next day, his jaw dropping in astonishment.

Charley nodded with enthusiasm.
‘Yeah, I can’t believe it either. He must be Buddyguard’s most
high-profile
client yet.’

‘But he’s a guy.’

‘Good observation skills,’
said Charley sarcastically. ‘Your point being?’

‘Well … you’ve always
been assigned to protect girls before,’ replied Blake.

‘And? You’ve protected boys
and
girls on your missions.’

‘Yeah, but that’s
different.’

Charley narrowed her eyes at him.
‘Why’s it different?’

‘Because …’ Blake
averted his gaze, clearly stuck for a suitable answer.

‘Because he’s jealous,
that’s why.’ Jason smirked as he strode into the briefing room with the
others and took his seat.

‘No, I’m not,’ Blake
shot back a little too quickly.

‘Of course you are. Ash Wild is
every girl’s fantasy,’
Jason declared. ‘A
super-rich famous rock star. You’re no match for him.’

‘Nor are you, dingo
breath!’

Jason held up his hands in defence.
‘Hey, I’m not competing for the same girl’s affections.’

His jaw tensing in anger, Blake started
to rise from his chair.

Charley placed a hand on Blake’s
arm, urging him to sit.
So much for keeping our relationship low profile
,
she thought. ‘For the record, I’m not interested in Ash Wild.’

Jason
gave her a look. ‘Yeah,
right.’

‘I don’t even like his
music,’ she stated. ‘Besides, that’s a line we’re not
allowed to cross. Rule number one: never get involved with your
Principal.’

‘Oops! I must have missed that one
in the manual,’ Jason remarked with a roguish grin.

Charley stared at him. ‘Are you
serious?’

Jason gave a non-committal shrug.
‘It
was only a kiss and she made the first mo–’

‘Oi, Casanova!’ José
interrupted. ‘Colonel Black’s coming.’

Everyone stood to attention as the
colonel took his place at the head of the briefing room. He indicated for them to
sit.

‘Operation Starstruck,’
announced Colonel Black, wirelessly connecting his tablet to the overhead display
and launching straight into the
briefing. On the screen appeared a picture of a
handsome teenage boy with brown hair and hazel eyes. ‘Our Principal is Ash
Wild. British-
born music prodigy, talented in guitar, piano,
singing and songwriting.’

‘Well, that’s a matter of
opinion,’ mumbled Blake, slouching in his chair.

Ignoring his sullen remark, Charley
powered up her tablet to take notes. She really
couldn’t deal with a jealous
boyfriend, especially during a briefing. This was one of the reasons why she
hadn’t wanted to get involved with someone on her team. It just complicated
matters.

‘Not according to his chart
success, Blake,’ Colonel Black countered. ‘At fourteen, Ash was the
youngest artist ever to achieve a number-one album in the UK. He’s topped the
charts
in sixteen other countries, including America where he became the first
British solo artist to enter the Billboard 200 at number one with a debut album. Now
fifteen, he’s about to embark on one of the most eagerly anticipated US tours
ever.’ Colonel Black paused and swept his gaze round the room. ‘Our job
is to keep him alive on this tour.’

‘What’s the primary
threat?’
asked David.

‘An unidentified stalker,
responsible for a hoax letter bomb and two death threats so far,’ the colonel
explained as he presented the evidence on screen. ‘A nasty piece of hate mail
written in pig’s blood and a message hidden within Ash’s latest single
release.’

‘Yeah, I heard about that on the
radio,’ said José. ‘Everyone thinks it’s a PR
stunt.’

‘Well, they’re letting that
story run, but it’s not the case,’ replied the colonel. ‘I was
contacted direct by Ash’s
manager, Kay Gibson.’ The
display switched to a photograph of a striking red-headed woman in a black tailored
dress. ‘Ms Gibson, who happens to be Ash’s aunt, is taking these threats
very
seriously. She’s already upped Ash’s normal security
arrangements,
including making his personal bodyguard full-time.’

The overhead screen filled with the
image of a hulking twenty-one stone man with a head like a wrinkled bowling ball and
tattooed arms that could put a gorilla to shame.

José let out a whistle through his
teeth. ‘He’s one mean-looking BG! Any stalker’s got to be crazy to
take him on.’

‘What’s his
background?’ asked
Charley, suddenly feeling out of her depth in comparison to
the colossal bodyguard.

‘His name is Tony Burnett, known
better as Big T,’ said the colonel. ‘He’s old school. Started out
in security when he was a teenager, just like you lot. But he got his training at
the school of hard knocks, working the pub doors in the East End of London where he
grew up. Later he moved
on to concert security at the Hammersmith Apollo. From
there, he toured with the likes of Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Slipknot and the Foo
Fighters. Now approaching sixty, he’s somewhat of a legend among music
security professionals. That’s how he acquired his position as Ash’s
personal bodyguard.’

David raised a hand. ‘Why does Ash
need Charley, or any other bodyguard
for that matter, when he’s already got
Big T to protect him?’

‘Big T will act as high-profile
security, warding off the
obvious threats,’ Colonel Black
explained. ‘But Charley is needed for low-profile, discreet protection –
to counter the unseen and unexpected dangers.’

‘But why choose Charley?
Especially after her last mission,’ said Jason, glancing across at her.
‘Wouldn’t it be better if I went? I could pretend to be one of the
band.’

He thinks he’s One
Direction
, thought Charley, bristling at Jason’s never-ending doubts
about her ability.

‘No,’ replied the colonel.
‘Charley has a distinct advantage over you. The fact she’s a girl will
allow her to blend in better. Officially she will be on the tour as a trainee PR
girl, but to any casual observer she’ll appear as just another Ash Wild
fan.’

‘So does Big T know I’ll be
Ash’s buddyguard?’ asked Charley.

José laughed. ‘Yeah, better
not step on the big man’s toes!’

Colonel Black nodded. ‘Ms
Gibson’s informed him. As I understand it, he’ll be the only other
person in the entourage, aside from Ash and the tour manager, to know
your true
role.’

Charley made a note of this as the
colonel turned to the others in the team. ‘Blake, you’ll be the prime
point of contact for Charley here at headquarters.’

Having sat silent throughout the
briefing, Blake glanced up from his sulk and nodded.

‘Jason, investigate Ash’s
background and run a threat assessment on him.’ A long series of dates flashed
up on the screen. ‘José and David, this is the planned tour itinerary.
Research each venue, hotel and location, so that Charley has
instant access to maps and all other essential information.’

‘Yes, Colonel,’ replied
José and David in unison, both opening up the tour file on their tablets.

The colonel turned back to Charley.
‘We’ve a meeting with Ash and his manager at
the end of next week.
Ensure you’re fully prepped. Bugsy’s updating your Go-bag, so remember
to stop by the logistic supply room. Other than that, you know the drill.’

‘Meet Amir,’ said Bugsy,
introducing the skinny boy Jason had spotted in the dining hall the week before.
‘He’s assisting me with mission logistics.’

Amir stared wide-eyed at Charley from
behind the work counter of the supply room, giving the impression he was a little in
awe of her.

‘Hi, I’m Charley,’ she
said, leaning against the counter.

‘I know,’ he replied with a
timid but endearing smile. ‘Everyone knows who
you
are.’

Charley raised an eyebrow. ‘They
do?’

‘You’re quite a celebrity
now, Charley,’ said Bugsy, dumping a light green rucksack
on top of the
counter and unpacking its contents. He laid out the items in two rows, then stepped
back.

‘You explain what’s in her
Go-bag, Amir,’ Bugsy encouraged, popping a stick of chewing gum into his
mouth. ‘It’ll be good experience for you.’

Clearing his throat, Amir picked up the
first item. ‘Well … this is a phone,’ he began.

‘I can see that.’ Charley
smiled.

‘A smartphone
actually … it has all the usual features,’ he continued, his voice
quivering slightly. ‘High-res camera, video capability, GPS, internet …
but it’s also a weapon.’

Now Charley was interested. ‘What
sort of weapon?’

Amir pointed to two small metal studs at
the top of the device. ‘A stun gun. Slide the volume button up a notch and
simply
press to deliver over three million volts of electricity …’

The ghost image of Kerry’s
tortured face and shuddering body flashed before Charley’s eyes. She blinked
and the vision was gone, but the chill of grief and guilt lingered. Amir was too
involved in his description of the phone’s workings to notice her brief pained
expression.

‘The shock will effectively
short-circuit
the attacker’s nervous system, causing loss of balance and
muscle control, confusion and disorientation. It’s like being shocked by a
cattle fence, only fifty thousand times stronger. Even through clothing, it can take
out a fully grown adult.’

He pressed the button; there was a
fearsome crackle and a blue bolt of electricity arced between the two studs. The boy
grinned.
‘I like to call this device the iStun.’

But Charley didn’t laugh. Instead
she quietly replied, ‘I know from experience what it can do.’

‘You do?’ he said, stifling
his own laugh when he saw her expression. ‘What happened?’

‘I’d rather not talk about
it, if that’s all right.’

‘Sure, I understand,’ he
replied with an earnest nod. ‘Client confidentiality and all that.’

Amir put the stun phone aside and picked
up a small
aerosol can. ‘This looks like a standard
deodorant. But in fact it’s –’

‘A legal pepper spray,’
Charley finished for him. ‘I’ve used it on a previous assignment. Fires
out a red gel that disorientates an attacker and stains their skin.’

Slightly crestfallen at missing an
opportunity to explain this himself, Amir
held up a tiny white box no bigger than a
sugar cube instead. ‘OK … how about the Intruder?’

‘Go on,’ encouraged Charley.
She felt bad after realizing Amir was trying desperately to impress their
instructor. So she leant forward and made a show of interest.

‘This is a mini portable
surveillance device,’ he explained eagerly. ‘Instant set-up. Just fix it
to a wall using
the reusable adhesive on the back. If someone crosses the
sensor’s beam, the device instantly alerts your phone with a text message.
Bugsy thought these would be ideal for detecting intruders while you’re on
tour.’

Charley examined the box.
‘It’s certainly compact.’

Heartened by her approval, Amir moved on
to the next set of items in line. ‘Now these are really cool!
Bugsy got them
custom-made.’

‘What’s so special about a
T-shirt?’ asked Charley as he unfolded the first black garment and laid it out
on the counter.

‘It’s woven from a high-tech
super-fabric,’ he explained. ‘This T-shirt is not only fireproof,
it’s stab-proof too.’

‘Stab-proof!’ exclaimed
Charley, feeling the thick cotton-like fabric between her fingers and
doubting its
capabilities. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Well, I
haven’t tested it
personally
,’ Amir admitted. ‘But Bugsy
assures me it is.’

Charley glanced at her instructor, who
gave a single nod of his bald head. ‘Do you want to test it out?’ he
asked.

‘No, it’s fine. I believe
you,’ Charley replied quickly as he began to unsheathe the knife on his
utility belt. She
returned the T-shirt to Amir.

‘There’s all your standard
gear too,’ said Amir, sorting through her remaining equipment and repacking
the items carefully into her Go-bag. ‘First-aid kit, comms unit, torch
–’

‘What’s this? A secret
poison dart?’ asked Charley, picking up a biro from the counter.

‘No,’ Amir replied, looking
at her as if she had a screw loose. ‘It’s
just a pen. But I thought
I’d include it in case your Principal is asked to sign autographs. You
don’t want to be hanging around, exposed any longer than necessary, while a
fan searches for their own pen.’

On hearing this, Charley reappraised the
potential of the raw-boned boy. He might not have the muscles, but he certainly had
the brains to be a bodyguard. ‘Good thinking,
Amir.’

Amir beamed at the praise.

‘Actually, this
isn’t
just any old pen,’ said Bugsy, stepping in and taking
it from Charley. ‘The casing is made from high-impact hardened polycarbonate.
This means it functions as a very effective self-defence weapon too.’

Amir frowned. ‘How can a pen be
used as a weapon?’

‘Allow me to
demonstrate.’

Holding the pen in
an ice-pick grip,
Bugsy said, ‘Like a
Japanese
kubotan
, you can
use this to strike at pressure points on the human body. The neck is the best place
to target.’

Without warning, he drove the tip of the
pen into the clump of nerves just above Amir’s collarbone. Amir let out an
anguished cry and crumpled to the floor where he lay gasping in pain.

‘Highly effective, as
you can
see,’ said Bugsy, returning the pen to Charley.

Collecting her Go-bag, she slowly shook
her head at Bugsy. ‘No wonder no one ever wants to be your
assistant!’