‘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.
The man was chewing slowly on a stick of gum as he blocked Connor’s way.
‘Did you get a good shot?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ replied Connor, showing his phone to his surveillance tutor. ‘It was the square-jawed man with the gold stud in his right ear.’
Bugsy raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. ‘And what about the woman who was following you? Did you take a photo of her too?’
Connor’s brow creased in puzzlement. ‘What woman?’
‘The blonde in the green jacket.’
Connor vaguely remembered someone fitting that description, but couldn’t quite place where.
‘What about the one in the red jacket and sunglasses?’ asked Bugsy.
‘You mean the woman by the bus stop?’
Bugsy nodded.