Hostage (10 page)

‘But remember the whole purpose of any
defensive action is to escape with your Principal,’ continued their instructor.
‘You’re hitting to buy time. Even in the middle of a conflict you should be
looking for the way out.’

He pointed to the green emergency exit sign
by way of example.

‘But you can’t go around
punching and kicking every potential threat. First, the person could be innocent with no
intention of harming your Principal. Second, you’ll end up in court for assault.
That’s why it’s useful to have
several non-lethal
techniques in your armoury. Ling and Connor, as you’re both black belts, I need
you to demonstrate.’

They stepped forward. Steve instructed Ling
to hold out her arm straight. Then he positioned her middle finger on the bone of
Connor’s sternum just above his solar plexus.

‘Connor, walk towards Ling.’

Since Ling was small and willowy, Connor saw
no problem in getting past her. But as soon as he stepped forward there was a sharp pain
in his chest.

‘Come on!’ chided Steve.
‘You’re a strong lad. It shouldn’t be too difficult.’

Connor pushed harder, but the pain only
increased. And Ling wasn’t even straining as she held him back.

His combat instructor seemed to enjoy the
astonished look on his face.

‘That’s how you keep someone at
bay with
just
a finger.’

‘The single-finger technique’s
effective only if the person is a mere annoyance to your Principal,’ explained
Steve. ‘But if they’re determined and becoming a serious threat you may need
to be more
insistent
and use a different PAL technique.’

‘PAL?’ queried Connor, having
never heard of such a martial art style.

‘Pain Assisted Learning,’
replied his instructor with a wicked grin.

Asking Ling to step aside, he stood in front
of Connor. Holding out a muscular arm, he gently fended Connor off with his
fingertips.

‘Have you heard of Bruce Lee’s
“one-inch punch”?’

Connor nodded.

‘Well, this is the one-inch
push.’

With barely more than a flick of his wrist,
Steve palmed Connor in the chest. Taken completely by surprise, Connor staggered
backwards then collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. A concussive wave of pain
spread through his lungs and his chest felt as if it had imploded.

‘Effective, isn’t it?’
commented Steve, helping him back to his feet.

Rubbing his chest, Connor managed a small
grunt of acknowledgement. These skills were on a totally different level from his
kickboxing and jujitsu training.

While Connor recovered, Steve explained the
workings of the technique. ‘Like a coiled-up spring, you drive your body weight
through your arm and into the person’s chest. This move can be as powerful as a
punch, but you appear to be doing hardly anything. So, if your victim complains, what
are they going to say?’ Steve put on a whiney petulant voice. ‘
He pushed
me, Officer!
’

The class laughed at this. Then, putting on
chest pads, they began practising the two techniques on one another. Connor was
partnered with Jason.

‘That looked like it really
hurt
,’ said Jason with the trace of a smile.

‘Felt like he cracked a rib,’
Connor replied, still rubbing his chest.

‘Well, I’d better let you go
first then. Give you time to recover.’

Connor got the distinct impression Jason was
implying he was weak, rather than making the offer out of any friendly concern.
Just
you wait
, Connor thought, holding out his arm to fend off his partner.

Jason strode forward, utterly confident of
overpowering Connor. Then he grimaced in pain and frustration as he failed to push past
Connor’s finger.

‘So it really
does
work!’ he exclaimed.

‘Oh yes, but not as much as this,’
replied Connor, copying his instructor’s movements for the second attack. Letting
his arm flex like a spitting cobra, he one-inch-pushed Jason in the chest.

Even with the protective pad, Jason grunted
in shock and doubled over.

‘I see … what you mean,’ he
groaned.

‘Sorry,’ said Connor, surprising
even himself with the force of the strike.

‘Don’t worry … mate,’ said
Jason, standing upright. ‘Now it’s
my
turn!’

Jason didn’t bother with the
single-finger technique. He went straight to the one-inch push. Connor flew backwards,
barrelling into two students from Delta team.

‘I
like
this attack,’
said Jason, cracking his knuckles. ‘Move over, Bruce Lee!’

Apologizing to the two recruits, Connor
returned to face his partner. Although his chest throbbed madly, he tried not to show
any pain.

‘Not bad,’ he wheezed – then
one-inch-pushed Jason.

Jason fell flat on the floor. Gasping for
breath, his face contorted in fury, he leapt to his feet and immediately took his turn,
striking even harder this time. They continued to exchange pushes, their chests becoming
more bruised and battered with every attempt to outdo one another. Then, without
warning, their training suddenly escalated into a full-blown fight and Connor found
himself tussling with Jason on the gym floor.

Two meaty hands seized them by the scruffs
of their
necks and pulled them apart. Their instructor lifted them off
the ground until they were at his eye level.

‘Anger is only one letter away from
danger,’ Steve warned them sternly. ‘Control your anger, otherwise anger
will control you and you’ll lose focus. As a buddyguard, you want to fight smarter
not harder. Do you two understand?’

Chastened, Connor and Jason nodded their
heads in response.

‘Good. Now shake up and make
up,’ he ordered.

Still dangling off the floor, Connor offered
his hand to Jason. He had no idea who’d started the fight, but he knew the last
thing he needed was an enemy in the team. ‘Sorry. Looks like we got a bit carried
away.’

After a moment’s hesitation the other
boy shook it. ‘No worries. At least we’ve battle-tested the
technique!’ he grinned.

With the apologies made, their instructor
seemed satisfied and dropped them both to the ground.

‘Well, now you’ve
mastered
the one-inch push,’ he mocked. ‘We’ll finish
with one last technique – the head twist.’

This time Steve selected a tall lad from
Delta team for his demonstration.

‘Again, there is very little to this
defensive attack. That’s what makes it effective. Lift the chin, twist the head
and simply push down.’

Steve grabbed the boy’s jaw and, in an
effortless push and twist, he collapsed the boy like a concertina.

‘Basically, where the head goes, the
body follows,’ he explained.

Connor was impressed – the move utilized the
same principles as jujitsu in exploiting the weaknesses of the human body. With it, he
should be able to take anyone down in a few seconds.

‘That’s fine if you’re
similar heights. But how’s Charley going to manage that one?’ questioned
Amir, indicating her disadvantage.

Before Steve could answer, Charley rolled
her chair over Amir’s toes. He squealed in pain. She punched him in the stomach
and he doubled over. Then she grabbed his head and twisted him to the ground.

‘Very easily,’ replied Charley,
as Amir lay bowed and defeated at her feet.

Connor looked into the sports shop window on
the second floor of Cardiff’s Queens Arcade. He barely noticed the display of Nike
trainers on sale. Instead, his eyes were focused on the reflection in the glass. A
steady stream of people was passing behind him. Most, if not all, were innocent
shoppers. But among that Saturday crowd
someone
was following him. He
didn’t know who yet, but he was determined to find out.

Walking on, Connor headed down the escalator
to the ground level of the shopping centre. He crossed the polished tiled floor and
stopped beside the information sign. Pretending to be lost, he examined the map, then
casually glanced around. As his eyes swept the atrium, he scanned the faces of the
people descending the escalator: a blonde-haired woman in a green jacket … a
harassed-looking mother clasping her toddler’s hand … two teenage girls plastered
with eyeliner and lipstick … a man on his mobile phone –

Hadn’t he seen that face before?

The square jaw. The broad nose. The deep-set
eyes.
Although Connor couldn’t be certain, he thought he’d
noticed the man earlier while browsing in the video-game store.

Connor decided not to hang around. He headed
along the central concourse towards the south exit. All the while he kept his eye on
reflections in the plate-glass windows. Twice he caught glimpses of the square-jawed
man. But was the man actually following him or just innocently leaving by the same
route?

To test his hunch, Connor stopped outside a
fashion store. After a few paces, the man paused at a newsagent’s and began
studying the papers. Connor felt his pulse quicken. This could be pure coincidence
still, but the man’s behaviour seemed increasingly suspicious. He was leafing
through the newspapers without really looking at them. At the same time he was mumbling
to himself –
or perhaps into a concealed radio?

Connor now needed to prove beyond a doubt
that this individual was on his tail. But he didn’t want to alert the man that he
suspected anything. That would scare him off – and then Connor might never find out who
this person was or why he was following him. He glimpsed a gold stud in the man’s
right ear and made a mental note of this. Then he headed for the exit.

When he reached the glass doors, he held
them open to let a lady with a buggy through, and took this opportunity to subtly check
behind.

The concourse was busy with shoppers. But
the man was nowhere in sight.

Maybe all this bodyguard training is
making me paranoid?
thought Connor.

Stepping outside into the bright spring
sunshine, he turned right to weave between the hordes of people milling along Queen
Street. The air was filled with the shouts of street hawkers and the strumming of
buskers. A local bus roared by, sending up a cloud of diesel fumes.

Connor glanced at the time on his mobile
phone. He had five minutes before he was due to meet the others. Heading along the road,
he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was still being watched. Though he
realized that if anyone was following him now, it would be almost impossible to spot
them among the crowds. What he needed was a quieter, yet public, area to draw the
individual out into the open.

Up ahead, a blue sign pointed towards a car
park. Perfect.

Connor checked for traffic, then crossed the
road. As he reached the opposite kerb, he heard the blast of a car horn. Glancing over
his shoulder, he saw the square-jawed man had narrowly missed being run over. Although
Connor’s gaze was directly upon him, the man deliberately avoided eye contact by
staring at a blonde-haired lady in a red jacket and sunglasses standing at a bus stop.
But Connor wasn’t fooled. This man was after him.

Quickening his pace, Connor turned right
through a pedestrian walkway to the car park. His tail would have to follow him through
the narrow alley – and if he did Connor’s suspicions would be confirmed.

He was halfway across the car park and still
the man hadn’t appeared. Just as he thought he’d lost him, Connor spied the
man standing by the ticket machine at the car park’s main entrance. Clearly out of
breath from running, the man was pretending to look in his pockets for change. While he
was distracted, Connor whipped out his mobile phone and took a picture of him. With the
evidence in his pocket, Connor ducked behind a van, his intention to escape and return
to the others. But a stocky man with a head as bald as a bowling ball stepped out and
confronted him.