Bodyguard: Target (24 page)

‘Did you get a look at his
face?’ asked Big T, sitting down opposite Ash and Charley in the suite’s
lounge area, his ample bulk filling the armchair.

Charley shook her head, her hair still
damp and her wet clothes clinging to her body. ‘The first porter, or whoever
he was, disappeared down the back stairs before we even got close.’

‘Rick, examine the hotel’s
CCTV,’ ordered Big T. The security guard nodded and headed for the lift.
‘Have you noticed anything out of place in the room since you got
back?’

Charley glanced round. ‘No,
nothing obvious.’

‘Ash, has your luggage been
tampered with?’

‘Not as far as I can tell,’
he replied, sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a hotel robe.

‘Well, until I give the OK, leave
them be,’ instructed Big T, his tone firm. ‘Charley, did you complete
the surveillance sweep before your unscheduled dip?’

Charley shifted uncomfortably under the
bodyguard’s hard gaze. She sensed
the big man held her partly responsible
for this breach of security. ‘Pretty much. The room was
clean.’

‘Sweep it again. Top to
bottom,’ he ordered.

‘Can I get changed first?’
she asked, the air-con in the room chilling her to the bone.

‘No,’ said Big T
emphatically. ‘This takes priority.’

Rising from the sofa, Charley picked up
the bug detector and began a
second inspection without argument. At the same time,
Big T carried out a full physical search of the suite. He started with the two
suitcases, checking the locks for damage and any signs of tampering before sifting
carefully through the contents. Once satisfied with the cases, he looked and felt
under the sofa and chairs, behind the cabinets, inside the wardrobes and every other
item of furniture in the room.

With nothing better to do, Ash headed
into the bedroom, threw himself on the king-size bed, grabbed the remote and
switched on the TV. He flipped through the channels to a classic rock show and
turned up the volume.

‘Good idea,’ Big T remarked
to Charley as ‘Sweet Child O’Mine’ by Guns N’ Roses blared
from the speakers. ‘Anyone listening
in won’t hear a thing over
this!’

Halfway through their rigorous search,
Rick radioed up to Big T. Charley heard the conversation over her earpiece.
‘
The security manager re-ran the CCTV feed for the last hour. A
uniformed man is seen heading down the staff stairwell at 16:07 hours, but his
face is obscured by a porter’s cap. Then we lose him. Sorry, Big T, not
much help.
’

‘Roger
that,’ replied Big T. ‘Ask the hotel staff if they saw anyone suspicious
or a new face on the team. You never know, we might get lucky.’

Charley moved through to the bedroom.
Guns N’ Roses had given way to Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen
Spirit’.

‘Find anything?’ asked Ash,
slumped against the pillows, his hands clasped behind his head.

‘Not yet,’
Charley answered,
waving the detector over a picture frame.

‘I reckon it’ll turn out to
be nothing,’ said Ash. ‘Reception probably told another staff member to
bring up my bags and the head porter is peeved he missed out on a fat
tip.’

‘Let’s hope that’s the
case,’ said Big T, entering the bedroom to the fading guitar distortion of
Nirvana.

‘We Built This City’
by
Starship began playing on the TV and Ash made a face in disgust. ‘Oh, this has
got to be the worst rock song ever!’

Looking through the drawers, Big T
pulled out a TV remote. ‘Have you scanned this?’ he asked Charley.

She nodded. He was about to return the
unit to the drawer when Ash switched channels.

Big T frowned. ‘Hand over
that
remote,’ he demanded.

‘Sorry, I didn’t take you
for a Starship fan,’ replied Ash, switching back channels.

‘I’m not,’ stated Big
T, taking the suspect unit from Ash and examining it. As soon as Charley passed the
bug detector over it, the detector vibrated and the indicator shot into the red.

‘Bingo!’ said Big T. He prised open the plastic casing to expose a
SIM card, microphone and transmitter.

Ash stared in disbelief at the covert
bugging device. ‘You can’t be serious! That’s James Bond
stuff.’

‘Who do you think planted it?
Gonzo?’ suggested Charley.

‘Him or another pap guy,’
Big T replied. ‘Whatever, someone is going to great lengths to keep tabs on
Ash.’

‘Surely it’s
illegal
to bug someone?’ exclaimed Ash, his tone turning angry.
‘Gonzo
needs to be arrested for this!’

‘There’s no hard proof
it’s him,’ said Big T. ‘Besides, while unauthorized telephone
tapping is illegal, bugs and covert cameras fall into a grey area of the law.’
He snapped the SIM card in half, then crushed the fake remote in his beefy fist.
‘That’s one less bug to worry about. Just a damn shame we can’t do
the same to the shutterbugs
outside.’

Completing their surveillance sweep,
they confirmed the suite was now clean.

‘Are you absolutely
certain?’ asked Ash, still freaked out by the discovery. ‘I don’t
want strangers listening to my every word.’

Big T nodded, then glanced at his watch.
‘You’d better freshen yourself up, superstar. We leave for the venue in
an hour. Don’t worry, your privacy
is secure and I’ll post someone
outside your door.’

Charley returned to her own room, shed
her damp clothes and jumped into a hot shower. As the water ran down her back and
warmed her, she thought about the mysterious porter. Had Gonzo been responsible? Or
was
someone more sinister involved? It had been a bold tactic
to impersonate a hotel employee and enter Ash’s room.
Why were they so
determined to spy on Ash? Was it purely to listen in and get a news scoop, or had
they a more dangerous motive in mind? There were too many questions and Charley had
no answers. But she did have one idea.

Charley dried herself, then clambered
into bed and managed to snatch half an hour’s rest before they left. On
waking, she hunted through her Go-bag for
what she needed, then joined Vince outside
Ash’s suite. As the two of them waited for Ash to make his appearance, she
casually leant against the door frame and fitted one of the Intruder devices Amir
had given her. Positioned at knee height, the pill-sized white sensor was barely
visible against the white paint.

If anyone tried to enter Ash’s
room while they were away,
she’d be the first to know about it.

‘Awesome gig!’ Jessie gushed
as Ash came offstage following his second encore at the Miami arena. ‘I
especially liked the moment when you pulled that girl from the audience. She almost
fainted
in your arms.’

Jessie gazed longingly at her idol,
clearly wishing she’d been that girl. Charley didn’t blame her. Almost
every girl in the arena must have wanted to be serenaded in Ash’s arms like
that.

‘Thanks,’ said Ash, swigging
from a water bottle. ‘What did you think, Charley?’

‘Probably your best gig
yet,’ she agreed, though she knew from the sudden
burst of radio chatter on
her earpiece that the unplanned invitation of the fan on to the stage had thrown the
security team into a minor panic.

As the road crew set to work packing
away the instruments and dismantling the stage, Big T escorted Ash to his dressing
room. Charley followed close behind and stationed herself outside his door. Once Ash
had showered and changed,
they prepared to leave the venue.

‘OK, scrum
time!’ Big T announced, then opened the stage doors.

Outside, hundreds upon hundreds of fans
were packed like cattle behind metal barriers. They shrieked in ecstasy when Ash
emerged, the noise louder than a dozen funfairs. Charley stayed close with Big T,
her eyes scanning the crowd as Ash worked his way along the line signing
the
fans’ programmes and smiling for countless selfies.

By now Charley was accustomed to the
deafening screams and crazed antics of Wildling fans. But the task of protecting Ash
in that ear-splitting chaos had not become any easier with so many new faces. And
everyone had the potential to be the maniac who’d promised Ash
no more
encores
.

A pack of photographers, including
Gonzo, vaulted the barriers and rushed towards them. They scuttled round the rock
star with their cameras clicking and flashing, a constant strobe of white lightning.
As the pack pushed and shoved for prime position, a telephoto lens hit Ash in the
head.

‘Ow! Watch it,’ he cried as
his baseball cap went flying.

‘Keep back!’ Big T growled,
using his bulk to shift
the cameramen out of their way.

A loud metallic
clang
caused
Charley to turn on her heel. A barrier had toppled over and the fans spilled on to
the walkway, all madly trying to get their hands on Ash’s lost cap. And when
the rest of the barriers collapsed hordes more fans surged forward.

‘Time to make like a shepherd and
get the flock outta
here!’ said Big T, his voice
harsh in
the security team’s earpieces.

The PES team closed ranks and
spearheaded Ash through the crowd towards the waiting SUV. But with every step the
crush of fans grew greater and the determination of the paparazzi intensified.

‘Ash, look this way!’ called
a photographer, half-blinding him with a blaze of flash shots.

Ash shielded his eyes and kept his head
down.

‘Running scared of your
fans?’ taunted another pap.

Gonzo bobbed up, his finger pressed on
auto-shoot. ‘Any more
accidents
?’

Ash glared at the rat-faced
photographer. ‘Stop bugging me!’ he cried, flinging his water bottle at
the man. The bottle struck the telephoto lens, spraying water everywhere. Paparazzi
cameras flashed, capturing the moment.

‘Hey!
That’s assault!’
snarled Gonzo, unable to suppress his triumph at antagonizing the rock star.
‘That’s assault with a weapon!’

‘You’re having a laugh,
Gonzo,’ said Big T. ‘Ash was being nice. Thought you could do with a
drink.’

‘I’ll sue you for damages,
Ash!’ Gonzo shouted, ignoring the bodyguard.

Big T blocked the pap’s path, then
bent down to his ear level.
‘And I’ll have you arrested for trespassing
and illegal bugging,’ he hissed.

‘Don’t know what
you’re talking about,’ snapped Gonzo, waving his camera in Big T’s
face. ‘Look at this. It’s ruined. Are you gonna pay for it?’

The bodyguard
laughed. ‘Hope you’ve got insurance!’

Big T and his team fended off Gonzo and
the rest of the paparazzi, insults flying thick and
fast, while Charley continued to
escort Ash towards the SUV. But more and more fans pressed in, slowing their
progress to a crawl.

Charley’s mobile pinged and
vibrated. Her first thought was the Intruder. Had it caught someone sneaking into
Ash’s suite? Despite the crush she managed to slip the phone from her pocket
and glance at the screen.

But it was just a text message
from
Blake.

Charley swore under her breath.
She’d forgotten to phone him back! And no kiss. That didn’t bode well.
But she was in no position to reply to him now.

When Charley looked up, a tall Hispanic
lad had blocked Ash’s path. With a cut-off T-shirt and gold chain, a buzz
haircut and shadow of a moustache, the boy didn’t
look the typical Ash Wild
fan.

‘You were eyeing up my
girl,’ he accused.

Ash looked perplexed. ‘Sorry, was
I?’

The lad nodded. ‘Pulled her on
stage. No one touches
my
girl, you pumped-up little popster!’

Without warning, the jealous boyfriend
launched a fist at Ash’s face. Ash stared at the approaching knuckles, frozen
like a rabbit in headlights. A millisecond
before the fist struck its target,
Charley shoved Ash aside and deflected the punch with her forearm.

The lad glared at
her. ‘Out of my way!’

As he tussled with her, he attempted to
throw another wild punch at Ash. Left with no choice, Charley palm-struck him in the
face. There was a crunch of bone and a spurt of blood as his nose broke under the
impact. The boy staggered
backwards to the horrified squeals of the fans and the
inevitable flash of the paps’ cameras.

Stun then run
, thought
Charley.

‘Come on!’ she said,
hustling a shocked Ash into the SUV before speeding away.