Bodyguard: Target (6 page)

Charley exchanged confused looks with the
rest of the team before turning to their Buddyguard close-protection instructor.
‘What other one?’ she asked.

Jody’s olive eyes turned to the
area behind them and she pointed. Seeing the bewilderment on their faces, she leapt
into a ditch piled with rusting tools, where a body lay partly concealed beneath a
sheet of corrugated roofing. ‘It’s the casualty who makes the least
noise that should be checked first,’ she stated.

Charley wondered how the team had missed
the full-size training mannequin during their surveillance
sweep. This was their
first real test since arriving at Buddyguard Headquarters in Wales four weeks ago
– and they had made a ‘fatal’ error.

‘But Blake was in need of
immediate medical attention,’ José argued. ‘He was bleeding
out.’

‘You have to resist the impulse to
treat the first casualty you encounter. If someone’s screaming, you know
they’re alive at least,’
Jody explained as she climbed out of the ditch.
‘In an incident with multiple victims, it’s crucial to
perform
triage
. Assess all casualties and sort them according to the
severity of their condition, using the principle of Dr ABC as a guide: airway,
breathing and circulation – in that order. Your aim should be to
do
the most for the most
.’

Jody paused to allow the significance
of
this to sink in before continuing, ‘That means prioritizing the most
life-threatening conditions first. In this training scenario, the victim in the
ditch had a blocked airway. If you’d spotted them, taken a moment to remove
the obstruction, then put them in the recovery position, that person would still be
alive now.’

Jason scowled at Charley and she knew
she was
to blame. The mannequin had been in
her
area during the initial
sweep. ‘I suppose that means we’ve failed,’ said Jason.

Jody studied the notes on her clipboard.
‘Not necessarily. It’s a team assessment. José, you demonstrated
excellent medical knowledge and diagnosis. David, a calm and level-headed approach
to an emergency. Jason, you were proactive as team leader and performed
a clean
insertion of the cannula. And, Charley …’

Charley braced herself for the worst.
She knew she’d suffered a ‘brain freeze’ and that she’d
messed up the needle compression.

‘Despite a rash entry into the
danger zone and a potentially serious medical error, you showed good communication
with the casualty and a willingness to do what was necessary. The rest of the
team
should take note –’ she directed her gaze at Jason and David –
‘because one can’t be self-conscious or inhibited during an emergency.
If the situation demands
CPR, then get on with it. Failure to
act fast enough could mean the difference between life and death.’

‘And what about me?’ asked
Blake. He sat up, his fake wound still seeping blood. ‘I deserve an award for
that acting!’

Jody arched a slim eyebrow. ‘Well,
you certainly made more fuss than Rescue Annie over there.’

‘Yeah, you screamed like a
girl,’ said Jason.

Blake shrugged it off.
‘Wouldn’t you, with a bunch of clowns about to jab your arm and pound
your chest?’ He removed the cannula with José’s help and pressed a
plaster to the resulting pinprick of blood, then
glanced over at Charley. ‘At
one point I thought you really were going to stab me with that needle!’

Charley responded with an awkward smile,
embarrassed by her relative medical incompetence.

José laughed. ‘That certainly
would have given you something to scream about.’

‘What? Isn’t this
enough?’ said Blake, pointing to the gory fake wound attached to his
thigh.

Jody cleared her throat to regain
everyone’s attention. ‘Taking into account everyone’s marks and
considering one of the casualties died, I’m afraid the team didn’t make
the grade on this first-aid test. I’m recommending a reassessment in a
week’s time.’

She ignored the team’s collective
groan. ‘You need to practise these skills until they become second nature.
Remember,
first aid is important in any walk of life but fundamental to being a
bodyguard.’

‘I’d
have thought our martial art skills would be more important,’ mumbled
Jason.

Jody glared at him. ‘Not
necessarily. During your assignments, it’s unlikely you’ll ever need
that high kick or spinning backfist you’ve practised over and over, but you
will
need knowledge of first
aid. Your Principal is far more likely to
die choking on a pretzel than be shot. In my opinion, if you’re not trained in
first aid, then you’re
not
a real bodyguard.’

‘Martial arts are essential for a
bodyguard!’ stated Steve, their unarmed-combat instructor, later that
afternoon. At six foot two, the ex-SAS soldier was a walking mountain of black
muscle
and no one dared argue with him. Nor did anyone risk mentioning that Jody
held a different opinion. ‘But, as you’ve discovered over the past four
weeks, it isn’t necessary to be the next Jet Li or to be able to scratch your
ears with your own feet!’

The class of ten recruits chuckled at
this, their laughter echoing round the spacious sports hall. They were the first
batch
of trainees to be drafted into the Buddyguard organization and the facilities,
located in an old Victorian-era school in a remote valley of the Brecon Beacons,
were a mix of run-down decay and high-tech modern. The newly equipped computerized
gymnasium stood in stark contrast to the cold and draughty changing rooms. But
Colonel Black had promised that renovation was in progress.

The handful of recruits lined up in two
rows to form a corridor down which their instructor slowly paced. Charley was at the
far end opposite Blake. A cocky Mancunian
with spiked black hair
and a permanent grin, he was relatively friendly to her, unlike Jason. The other
recruits were pleasant enough, but none had made any special effort to get to know
her. Being the only
girl seemed to set her apart.

‘All you need is an understanding
of body mechanics and a few simple techniques to pre-empt or disarm an
attacker,’ Steve explained. ‘With these skills at your disposal, you can
control people of all shapes and sizes with very little effort.’

He stopped in front of Jason.
Broad-chested with bulging biceps and an anvil jaw, Jason was the largest
of the
recruits.

‘The principle is simple,’
said Steve, indicating for Jason to grab his T-shirt as if to assault him.
‘For instance, a wrist will rotate only so far. So, by manipulating it and
using the attacker’s own momentum to force it beyond normal movement, you can
control and disable that person. Jason, take a swing at me.’

Still holding his instructor’s
shirt, Jason chambered his right fist to let loose a roundhouse punch. As the strike
arced towards him, Steve gripped Jason’s left hand between his thumb and
forefinger, twisting it back the other way. As he spiralled the wrist to breaking
point, Jason instantly abandoned his punch and doubled over in pain. Steve followed
up by firmly pushing the back of Jason’s knuckles towards his
elbow. With his
arm locked out, Jason had no option but to drop to the floor where he lay writhing
like a speared snake.

Charley decided that
was a technique she needed to learn – if only to put Jason in his place.

‘If I applied a touch more
pressure, his wrist would snap like a twig,’ Steve explained matter-of-factly.
‘But to the casual onlooker it would appear I’ve
done relatively little.
So it maintains the principle of minimum force, which keeps me within the law. And
if the attacker has a broken wrist it’s attributed to their own force when
resisting, not through any brutality on my part.’

He released Jason, who shook the ache
from his wrist and stood back in line.

‘For me, this is what makes
martial arts so essential for a
bodyguard: the ability to control people with the
illusion of minimum force.’

‘But what if someone has a
knife?’ asked Blake. ‘Surely we have to do more than a basic wrist
lock.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Steve.
‘But the principle of NRP always applies. Any self-defence must be
necessary
,
reasonable
and
proportional
to the attack.
So, if someone has a knife, you have
every right to break that attacker’s arm.
However, if the potential threat is simply an over-enthusiastic fan, you can’t
go around decking them.’

‘That’s a shame!’
Jason remarked.

Steve shot him a hard stare.
‘Maybe so, but we don’t want any of you appearing on a tabloid front
page with your fist slamming into a fan’s face while your Principal looks on
in horror.
Remember, you’re protecting the Principal’s image as well as
their safety …
and
our organization’s covert status.’

He beckoned Blake to
step forward.

‘That’s why I’m going
to show you how to take down an opponent with just your fingertips.’

Charley edged forward in anticipation
with the rest of the recruits.

‘The jugular takedown is an
excellent self-defence
technique,’ explained their instructor,
‘especially if the aggressor is trying to strangle you from in
front.’

Steve nodded to Blake to reach up and
put his hands round his muscled neck in an imitation attack.

‘First, locate the notch at the
base of the throat, just above the collarbone,’ he instructed, spearing the
tips of his right hand and resting his middle finger
on Blake’s soft
depression of skin. ‘At the same time, slip your other hand behind the
attacker’s neck to gain control of their body. Finally, push in and down,
hard
, aiming towards the ground behind your attacker’s
feet.’

Steve’s move was so quick and
Blake’s reaction so sudden and extreme that Charley barely had time to blink
before Blake was on the ground, choking
and gagging. It was as if their instructor
had cut the strings of a puppet.

‘If necessary, you can follow up
with some disabling strikes before making your escape,’ Steve went on,
mimicking a punch to the kidneys and groin. ‘I guarantee this jugular takedown
will drop any individual, however big or ugly they are.’

‘And Blake sure is ugly!’
teased Jason.

‘Take a
look in the mirror, dingo
head,’ Blake rasped as Steve helped him back to his feet.

‘I did but
you’d already cracked it,’ replied Jason, much to the amusement of the
class.

‘Cut the banter!’ barked
Steve. ‘Now pair up and practise.’

Charley felt like a lame duck, standing
alone as the other recruits buddied up. Being the only girl, it seemed she was the
last
choice, the weakest player on the team. Furthermore, all the other recruits had
arrived with some combat training, whether it was David’s military experience,
José’s street-fighting skills or Jason’s junior championship boxing
title. All she could claim were a few months of women’s self-defence
classes.

Blake looked at her. ‘Want to
partner up?’

‘Sure,’ said Charley,
relieved to be asked. She noticed he was still rubbing his throat. ‘Are you
all right?’

Blake nodded, then snaked a hand behind
her neck to perform the technique on her. ‘I warn you – it’s a
shock when it happens.’

‘Fine, I’m
read–’ Blake’s fingers thrust into her jugular notch and shut off
her windpipe. An awful gagging sensation caused her body to fold in on itself
to
escape the crippling discomfort. One moment she was standing. The next she was
sprawled on the floor.

‘Effective, isn’t it?’
said Blake, offering his hand to help her up.

Charley could only nod as she fought
back the desire to vomit. Now it was her turn to inflict the technique on Blake.
Clasping his neck with one hand, she placed the tips of her fingers in the notch
above his collarbone and pushed.
Blake grimaced and gagged
slightly but didn’t drop to the floor. His knees didn’t even buckle.

Charley frowned. What had she done
wrong? Their instructor made the technique look so easy.

‘In and down,’ Blake
reminded her.

Charley nodded and tried again. This
time Blake flinched violently and crumpled under her thrusting fingertips.
With
surprisingly little strength, she forced him all the way to the ground.

‘
That’s …
it!
’ Blake gasped, his eyes bulging in pain.

Charley smiled and let him go. The
jugular takedown
was
that simple after all.