Hostage (13 page)

Dirk leapt from the sofa to look at the
profile in George’s grasp. As he scanned the President’s choice, his
expression crumbled into one of sheer disbelief. ‘But this buddyguard hasn’t
even completed a single assignment yet!’

The President closed the file and replied
with complete conviction. ‘He’s the one.’

Hazim sat alone in the study of the large
rented house. The residence had come partly furnished and he tapped his fingers
impatiently on the mahogany desk as he watched the clock on the wall, its second hand
ticking by. It was two minutes to seven.

His mobile phone rang and Hazim snatched it
up from the desk. ‘Hello?’

‘Hazim, it’s your mother,’
said the voice at the other end of the line. ‘Are you still coming over for
dinner?’

Sighing, Hazim rubbed his eyes in
exhaustion. ‘Sorry, Mother, I have to work late. Perhaps tomorrow.’

He clicked on the internet auction site on
his computer and began browsing the ‘Sporting Goods’ section.

‘Again?’ she protested.
‘This new job of yours might pay well, but they’re overworking
you.’

‘I have to make a good
impression.’

He glanced up at the clock. It was one
minute to seven. Ten seconds to go.

‘But I’m worried for your
health. It’s no good working all hours. You need to rest too –’

‘I recently had a holiday,’
interrupted Hazim, his mouse hovering over the bike category. The minute hand flicked to
19:00.

‘Yes, and the family are desperate to
know how your trip went. Your sister and brother are missing you. Please come over. Your
father will be most disappointed if you don’t …’

As his mother ranted on, Hazim selected the
category filters:
Men’s, Mountain Bikes, Used, 20-inch frame, red colour
.
Five postings were listed. The last of the bikes was in a terrible state, its frame
dented and chipped, the front wheel bent, a pedal missing: starting price $200. No sane
person would bid for such an item. Nonetheless, Hazim clicked on the link and the image
of the bike popped up with a basic description. The auction was set for a day –
twenty-three hours and fifty-eight minutes were remaining. But Hazim had no interest in
placing a bid.

‘Are you still listening to
me?’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘So, can you pick up your sister next
week?’

‘Of course,’ he replied,
groaning as if being put upon by the request, but at the corners of his mouth flickered
the faintest of smiles.

Using a specialized download helper, Hazim
extracted the image of the bike from the browser to his desktop. Then he dropped the
file into an application called Scrub. The program opened up automatically and the bike
appeared in a fresh window. The image immediately began to disintegrate.

‘Hazim, promise to join us for dinner
tomorrow,’ pleaded his mother. ‘It’s the weekend.’

‘Promise,’ he replied, and put
the phone down.

The decrypting program had finished its
work. The mangled bike was replaced by two lines of text that had been digitally
embedded within the image:

‘What’s going on?’ asked
Connor as he hurried down the corridor and caught up with Amir and Marc. He’d been
in his room packing to go home for the summer holidays when his mobile had pinged with a
message from Colonel Black:

Alpha team. Briefing room. ASAP.

‘Maybe he wants to wish us a happy
holiday,’ suggested Amir.

‘If only,’ replied Marc.
‘I reckon it’s far more serious than that.’

Jason and Ling joined them and they entered
the briefing room. Charley was already there, deep in discussion with the colonel. A
nervous anticipation gripped Connor when he caught sight of Charley’s stunned
expression. Whatever the colonel had to say, the news had evidently taken her by
surprise.

Hurriedly they found their seats. Colonel
Black finished talking with Charley and turned to them. His face wore a rare smile.

‘Alpha team’s leave is
postponed,’ he announced, not even bothering to soften the blow.

A groan of disappointment escaped
Amir’s lips.

The colonel disregarded this and continued,
‘Buddyguard has received a top-priority assignment. And a member of
this
team has been selected.’

‘Who?’ asked Ling, perching on
the edge of her seat in excitement.

The colonel’s steel-grey eyes fell on
Connor.

‘Me?’ said Connor, almost
breathless. As the realization sank in, he was unsure whether to be thrilled or
terrified at the prospect of his first assignment.

‘Yeah, why Connor? He’s the
newbie,’ argued Jason, puffing up his chest. ‘Next to Charley, I’m the
most experienced. It should be me.’

‘I admire your eagerness,
Jason,’ replied Colonel Black tactfully. ‘But, as with every assignment,
it’s not simply about an operation being available; it’s about the
buddyguard fitting the operation. This assignment is by order of the President of the
United States. He chose Connor personally.’

Connor was speechless. Surely he’d
misunderstood. ‘He chose me
specifically
. Why?’

‘That information wasn’t
disclosed,’ replied the colonel. ‘It’ll be up to President Mendez to
reveal his reasons, if he so wishes.’

‘It’s probably because of your
martial arts credentials,’ Charley suggested.

‘Well, it certainly can’t be for
anything else!’ mumbled Jason.

Connor let the comment pass, appreciating that
Jason was crestfallen at not being chosen himself.

‘So who’s Connor
protecting?’ asked Marc.

The colonel looked to Charley to
respond.

‘Alicia Rosa Mendez,’ she
revealed. ‘The President’s daughter.’

Marc whistled through his teeth in awe.
‘Rather you than me, Connor.’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Ling.
‘You’re going in at the deep end!’

Connor thought there had to be some sort of
mistake. ‘They’re right, Colonel. I haven’t even done a test operation
yet.’

The colonel looked him in the eye. ‘I
won’t lie to you, Connor. This is the highest-profile assignment Buddyguard has
ever been involved in. For us, we’re taking a huge gamble. For you, it will be a
baptism of fire. But I’ve watched your progress closely. You possess your
father’s ability to think on your feet. And, with any luck, his sixth sense to
foresee danger too.’

Connor was taken aback by the unexpected
comparison to his father. Their course had been so full-on he’d not had the
opportunity to talk with the colonel about his father’s past life. But clearly
Colonel Black had been noting the similarities. It was a boost to his confidence, but
Connor couldn’t help feeling a new pressure on his shoulders of having to live up
to the colonel’s high expectations.

‘Operation Hidden Shield will commence
forthwith,’ declared Colonel Black. ‘Charley, I want a full profile on the
Principal by 0900 hours tomorrow. Amir, prep a
Go-bag with all the
appropriate tactical kit. Ling, Marc and Jason, you’re responsible for compiling
the operation folder. I want maps of all primary locations, threat assessments, sit reps
on known hostiles, key personnel and any other relevant information that might help
Connor in his task. Connor, come with me for further briefing.’

For a moment, Alpha team sat stock still in
their chairs, caught like rabbits in the headlights.

‘What are you waiting for?’
barked the colonel. ‘You have your orders.’

At his command, they rushed to their
stations in the briefing room. Alpha team had run through operational planning
situations in training on countless occasions. But this time there was an urgency to
their actions. This time it was for real.

Connor hardly slept all night.
What
reason could one of the most powerful leaders in the world have for selecting me to
protect his daughter?

His martial arts skills couldn’t be
the only justification. Jason was an equal match to him – in fact, Connor had learnt
that his rival had once been the Australian Junior Champion. There had to be another
reason. But Connor couldn’t think what it was. Aside from his twelve weeks of
training, he had no real-world experience of being a buddyguard and this deeply worried
him. Connor wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity and that the President
actually believed he was choosing
someone else
.

But the colonel assured him that
there’d been no mistake. He was to work alongside the US Secret Service, the
Homeland Security department responsible for the protection of the First Family. He
would be reporting direct to its head, Dirk Moran, while maintaining a line of
communication with Buddyguard in the UK in case he needed additional support. His
mission was to ensure the safety of the President’s daughter at all times,
particularly
those instances when Secret Service agents couldn’t
be immediately at hand. The threat level for the operation was deemed to be
‘Category 1 Life-Threatening’.

Connor’s mind whirled with the
possibilities – angry mobs, long-range snipers, knife-wielding assassins, exploding car
bombs … the danger list went on and on. And
he
was to be the hidden shield
between those threats and the life of the President’s daughter. The sheer scale of
the task ahead was almost paralysing. He wondered if his father had ever felt like this
before any of his assignments. Or did a seasoned bodyguard get used to the pressure?
Perhaps it was like a constant trickle of electricity running through their veins, so
they felt, yet suppressed, their fears.

And Connor’s greatest fear was that he
would fail. That at the moment of an attack he would react too late – or, worse still,
not react at all.

At 9:00, Connor, bleary-eyed and groggy from
lack of sleep, joined Alpha team in the briefing room. They looked equally shattered
from their late-night research.

‘As you know, your Principal is Alicia
Rosa Mendez,’ said Charley, beginning her presentation as soon as Connor was
seated. She clicked a remote to display the photo of a young girl on the overhead
screen. ‘Fourteen years old of Mexican-American descent, she is the only daughter
of Emilia and Antonio Mendez, the current President of the United States.’