Bodyguard: Target (9 page)

‘Colonel, have you got a
minute?’ asked Charley, racing after him as he headed for his Range Rover.
She’d tried to pin the colonel down on numerous occasions, but, apart from his
specialist
classes, he was rarely around, always rushing off on urgent
business-related matters.

The colonel stopped, his highly polished
boots scrunching on the gravel of the school forecourt. ‘Of course, Charley.
How’s your head?’

‘OK, I guess,’ she replied,
tenderly testing the growing bruise with a finger.

‘It’s a hard lesson. But one
you won’t forget.’

Charley nodded
and winced as her skull
gave a throb. ‘Colonel, you said to expect the unexpected, but I didn’t
expect to be the only girl at Buddyguard. If you believe girls make good bodyguards,
why haven’t you recruited more?’

The colonel’s expression remained
impassive. ‘You were the first I’ve found up to the task … and the
only one since to say yes.’

Charley was taken aback to
discover
this. ‘But why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Would it have
made a difference to your decision?’

Charley shrugged. ‘Probably not.
But it’d be nice to have the company. I feel a bit outnumbered by the
boys.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m
working on it,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Just takes time to find
suitable recruits.’

‘So, how
do
you find
recruits?’ she asked.
The question had been bugging her for a while.

‘They usually make themselves
known to us – through their actions.’

‘Like when I saved that boy from
the shark?’

The colonel nodded. ‘I was
actually on holiday,’ he admitted. ‘But your heroics caught my eye. And
after our little chat in the dunes and subsequent research I saw real potential in
you.’ He placed a hand
on her shoulder and looked her in the eye.
‘Listen, I know from Jody you’ve been questioning your abilities.
Don’t
. You’re doing well. Just keep your chin
up.’

He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then
pulled out his car keys. The Range Rover beeped, its indicators flashing. He opened
the driver’s door and got in. ‘And my advice for handling the boys: give
as good as you
get.’

Gunning the engine, Colonel Black
saluted a goodbye, then sped off down the long driveway, the Range Rover’s
heavy-duty tyres kicking up gravel as they went.

Charley stood in the forecourt, mulling
over his words, until the car had crested the hill. Colonel Black clearly believed
in her. Her efforts
were
being recognized – if not by the team, then
at least by
those who counted.

With a more confident spring in her
step, Charley headed
back inside the school building. She found
Blake sitting at the bottom of the staircase in the entrance hall.

‘What are you doing?’ she
asked.

‘Waiting for you,’ he
replied with a warm smile.

Charley blinked in shock. Then she
remembered. ‘Ah, yes. You wanted my class notes,’ she said,
pulling out
her tablet from her bag. ‘I could’ve just emailed them to
you.’

‘I know,’ he said, his eyes
lingering on her. ‘But it’s nicer to do things personally.’

Charley felt a warmth in her cheeks.
Before Blake could notice the effect his gaze was having on her, she busied herself
transferring the notes to his tablet. ‘There you go,’ she said.

Blake smiled again.
‘Thanks. I
really appreciate it. I tend to miss things – I’m not as fast as you at
typing.’

‘No problem. Any time,’ she
replied breezily, returning the tablet to her bag.

Blake stood up, closer to her than she
expected, and was about to say something else when they were interrupted.

‘Hey, Blake!’ called David,
appearing in the hallway. ‘Are you coming to play football
or not?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied, then
turned back to Charley. ‘Catch you later?’

Charley nodded and watched him run off
to join the others. Perhaps there were advantages to being the only girl.

‘What’s this?’ said
Bugsy, pointing to a blue Tupperware box on the desk.

Charley and the rest of the team
exchanged bemused glances. The answer seemed obvious. ‘A lunch box,’
said
Blake.

‘No. It’s a bomb.’

Everyone instinctively flinched away,
the briefing room suddenly feeling too small.

‘A real one?’ José
queried.

Their surveillance tutor gave a nod of
his bald head and grinned as deviously as the Cheshire cat from
Alice in
Wonderland
. ‘This one happens to be a smoke bomb,’ he revealed,
removing the lid and exposing the small package
of wires and components inside.
‘But it’d be a simple matter to upgrade this to a fire bomb or a
high-explosive device capable of destroying this entire building.’

He held up a red block of what appeared
to be plasticine.

‘PBX,’ said Bugsy.
‘Plastic-bonded explosive.’

He tossed it to Jason, who caught it,
freaked out and almost dropped the innocuous-looking block
on the floor.

‘Relax, Jason,
PBX requires a considerable shock to set it off.’

‘Better not look at it
then,’ warned Charley. ‘You might trigger an explosion.’

The class burst into laughter and Jason
scowled. José raised a hand to high-five her. ‘Harsh but fair,
girl!’

Claiming the high-five, Charley
realized, for the first time, she was making ground with the
team. As the colonel
said, she just had to give as good as she got.

‘Eat PBX!’ Jason growled,
lobbing the explosive at her.

She caught it in one hand, much to his
annoyance. The PBX was surprisingly light, pliable and slightly greasy to the
touch.

‘You still have to pay it respect,
though,’ said Bugsy as Charley tested the material with a squeeze. ‘What
you’re
holding in your hand would be enough to kill everyone in this
room.’

Charley stared in horror at the deadly
block, then hurriedly passed it back to her tutor.

‘Pound for pound, PBX packs a
pretty big punch. So what’s the main advantage of a bomb over other
weapons?’ he asked the class.

Jason opened his mouth to reply, but
Charley cut in, ‘The bomber doesn’t have
to be there.’

‘Exactly,’ said Bugsy as
Jason glowered at her and slumped back in his seat. ‘They could be thousands
of miles away and detonate it remotely with a mobile or by fitting a timer. Compare
that to using a knife or a gun, where the perpetrator has to be present and their
chances of being
captured or killed increase dramatically. And
acquiring a gun in countries
like the UK can be a serious challenge. However, with a
few easily obtainable household items, any schoolboy can make a bomb.’

‘Cool!’ said José,
sitting up in his chair with interest. ‘Are you going to show us
how?’

‘No, but I’ll teach you what
to do if you spot one,’ replied Bugsy as the first slide of his presentation
appeared on the widescreen display. ‘The rule
of the Four Cs:
confirm
,
clear
,
cordon
,
control
.’

Charley picked up her tablet and began
to input the meaning of the Four Cs into her class notes. Blake smiled at her and
winked, confident he could rely on her notes. Charley smiled back.

‘A bomb can be hidden in a suspect
car or truck, dropped in a waste bin or left at the roadside. It can be disguised as
a rucksack,
a rubbish bag or even a mobile phone. Whatever it is that arouses your
suspicions, first you must
confirm
those suspicions.’

‘Isn’t that going to be
dangerous?’ asked David, his question more a statement of fact than a matter
of concern. To Charley, David appeared a strong silent type. She knew little of his
past, but he always acted in the same calm and unhurried manner, whether
chilling
out in the common room or under fire during a training scenario. It was as if
he’d seen it all before, or had seen a great deal worse in his life and was
numb to it.

‘Well, it certainly doesn’t
mean giving the suspect bag a kick, let alone opening it!’ Bugsy replied.
‘Any suspect items
must be considered booby-trapped. So,
for starters, switch off any mobiles.’

‘But that would prevent us calling
the authorities,’ Blake pointed out.

‘True, but radio waves are often
used to trigger remote-control bombs. You don’t want to accidentally set it
off yourself!’ Bugsy explained. ‘Next, establish who the item belongs
to. If you can’t find the owner, then the item is a threat. Whether your
Principal is the intended target or not makes
no difference. Bombs are
indiscriminate killers.’

‘So if we believe it’s a
bomb we
clear
the area?’ asked Charley, looking up from her
notes.

‘Absolutely.’ Bugsy nodded.
‘Trust your gut instinct and clear to a safe distance, quickly and without
panic. In Hollywood movies, you see the hero outrunning an explosion. In reality no
one can outrun an explosion. One second
everything is normal and the next second
everything is destroyed. The biggest killer can be the blast wave and what’s
contained in it, shards of glass and debris, so you need to reach a sheltered
location.’

‘What about the other two
Cs?’ asked David.

‘Once clear, you can call the
emergency services and hand over responsibility for them to
cordon
off the
area and
control
the situation. Even if the suspect item turns out to be
harmless, it’s better to make sure your Principal is safe than risk being
blown to bits!’

Bugsy picked up a brown padded envelope
from the desk and waved it in the air.

‘Don’t forget your friendly
mailman or courier,’ he said
with a grim expression.
‘Letter and parcel bombs are a favoured device for terrorists,
criminals and
those with a grudge. Traditionally explosive or incendiary, nowadays they can be
chemical, biological or even radiological.’

‘A nuclear letter!’
José grimaced. ‘I’m not handling anyone’s mail.’

‘Wise decision,’ agreed
Bugsy. ‘Any attempt to open one might set it off. But as a bodyguard
you’re responsible for all aspects of your Principal’s safety. There
are
a number of telltale signs to look out for – the Seven Ss, to be
exact.’

On the display, the presentation
bullet-pointed
Size
,
Shape
,
Sender
,
Stamp
,
Seal
,
Stain
and
Smell
.

‘
Size
,’ began
Bugsy. ‘The letter needs to be big enough to house the components, so will be
at least five millimetres thick, weigh over fifty grams and may feel unusually heavy
for its
size.
Shape
– the package could be lopsided or lumpy,
indicating possible batteries or switching systems.
Sender
– check
the postmark. Where did it come from? Is the origin unusual? Is there a return
address and can it be verified?
Stamp
– is there one? Or was it
hand-delivered? There may even be extra postage since the last thing the perpetrator
wants is his letter bomb to
be returned to sender!’

The class chuckled at their
tutor’s black humour. Meanwhile Charley’s fingers flew across her tablet
screen as she raced to take down the details. Swamped by so much information, the
rest of the team had given up taking notes altogether. Charley was aware that Blake
shared her notes with the others and the boys had started relying on her to
write up
their lessons for future revision. Though this
irritated her, she hoped it might raise her value within the team, so she let it
ride. Besides, she enjoyed her regular meetings with Blake after class and they were
becoming close friends.

‘
Seal
– one end may
have been purposefully secured to force entry at the other end,’ continued
Bugsy. ‘Also look out for a pin-sized hole
indicating the use of an external
arming device.
Stain
– some explosives can weep an oily residue that
will produce marks on the outside of the envelope. Finally,
smell
–
if there’s a strange aroma of almonds or marzipan, this could indicate
nitroglycerin. Then again –’ Bugsy switched the presentation to a
picture of a chocolate sponge lit by candles – ‘it could just be a
cake!’