Amir shook his head. ‘Assess the threat. Counter the danger. Escape the kill zone.’
‘Then why didn’t you assess your escape route? It’s no good running with your Principal if you’re heading in the wrong direction. Or worse – towards the threat itself!’
Jody was teaching Alpha team the concept of ‘body cover’: how to effectively shield a Principal from an attack. They’d spent all day doing ‘action-on-drills’: grabbing their Principal from sitting, standing, walking and running positions, and covering them against various assaults from the front, rear, left, right and even from above. Through constant practice, the aim was to make A-C-E as instinctive as ducking.
‘Whenever there’s an apparent danger, you must assess the situation before you react,’ Jody reminded them. ‘This might take a millisecond or ten seconds, but it’s vital to your survival. The threat – whether it is a punch, a knife, a bullet or even an egg – determines your response. Then, once the assessment is made, you cover your Principal, placing yourself between them and the threat. For example –’
She grabbed Marc, stepped in front of him and shouted, ‘STAY BEHIND ME!’
The demonstration took less than a second, but was effective.
‘You need to control the Principal both physically and verbally,’ she explained, still holding on to Marc’s arm. ‘The shock of the attack might have caused fight, flight or freeze. This could mean the Principal is either functioning with you or has brain fade. Whatever the case, you need to stay in control and ensure they don’t hamper the evacuation.’ Jody held up her right hand. ‘Leave your strong arm free to punch and defend. And, when you do evacuate, the body cover must remain on. As you’ve just witnessed with Connor and Amir’s spectacular bellyflop into the sheep dung, this isn’t easy. Which is why you need to practise.’
She released Marc and asked Connor to step forward.
‘Punch Marc,’ she instructed.
Marc looked shocked. ‘But he’s a kickboxing champion!’
‘And I’m your bodyguard,’ replied Jody with a wink.
Obeying his instructor, Connor swung a fist at Marc’s face.
‘GET DOWN!’ screamed Jody, leaping forward and driving her hip into Marc. He was shoved so violently sideways that he was thrown several metres. But he was no longer under any direct threat and Jody now engaged with the attack. Effortlessly blocking it, she countered with a hook punch that stopped just short of Connor’s jaw.
‘You see, by suddenly moving your Principal, the assailant doesn’t know where to look: at his original target or at you, his new threat.’
Jody lowered her fist and patted Connor on the shoulder. ‘Remember to block next time,’ she said with a grin.
‘Isn’t the technique a bit aggressive?’ commented Connor, as Marc stood rubbing his bruised hip. ‘You could hurt the Principal.’
‘In a life-threatening situation, this technique needs to be aggressive,’ Jody replied. ‘The Shove, as I like to call it, will save your Principal from any direct attack – a punch, a knife or even a bullet.’
‘We’re expected to take a bullet for someone else!’ exclaimed Amir.
Jody’s expression became solemn. ‘Hopefully, with your training, it won’t ever come to that. And even if it did you should be wearing your issued body armour. But when you’re on assignment you take on the very same danger your Principal faces. You are their shield. That’s why bodyguards are sometimes known as bullet-catchers.’
The waves rolled towards the shore, long white lines that peeled in perfect curls. Bobbing on the sea’s surface like eager seals, local surfers waited to catch their ride and follow the surge in. Along the three-mile stretch of golden sand, a few families dotted the shoreline but otherwise the beach belonged to Alpha team. After twelve weeks of basic training, they’d finally earned some proper time off and Steve had driven them to the Gower Peninsula to relax. Now it was June, the sun was warm, the sky cloudless and the day perfect for a barbecue on the beach.
Jason prodded the sausages and slapped on a couple more burgers.
‘These should be done in a minute,’ he announced, swigging from a can of Coke.
Ling lay on her beach towel, soaking up the sun’s rays. ‘Did you keep my veggie kebabs separate?’
‘Of course,’ said Jason, quickly shuffling Ling’s food to one side and sharing a guilty grin with Connor and Marc. Now that training was over, the rivalry between them had relaxed a little. Although their relationship was still fractious, Connor had come to realize Jason wasn’t a bad lad in himself. Just neither of them wanted to be second best.
For Connor, the past twelve weeks had flown by and he now felt a completely different person. When a geography lesson was paired with survival in hostage situations, a physics class with fire training, and cross-country running with anti-ambush drills, the mix was mind-blowing. It was as if he now wore special lenses that identified every threat surrounding him on a daily basis. Connor no longer classed this as ‘paranoia’ – he was simply aware of the world, living in Code Yellow. When he walked down a busy street, passers-by seemed to be in a perpetual, and worrying, state of half-sleep. Did they notice the security camera above the shopping centre entrance recording them? Did they have a clue where the fire exit was in an emergency? Had any of them spotted the suspicious individual hanging near the cash point? As a direct result of his training, Connor instinctively picked up on these details. And though he was alert to more danger he paradoxically felt safer, since he was now prepared to deal with any trouble that might occur.
Connor wondered if his mum or gran would notice the difference in him when he returned to London for the summer holidays. Despite the intensity of the training, he’d managed to call home every week. His mother always sounded upbeat and eager to hear news of his progress, although he could tell by the edge in her voice that she was often in a great deal of pain. He had to gloss over the details of his bodyguard training, but she was pleased he was learning new subjects as well as continuing his martial arts. His gran seemed happy too, and particularly glad he was paying attention to his ‘other’ studies. Sally was proving a great help around the house and she’d taken them to local garden parks and on day trips out of London, something the two of them never could have managed before. Any doubts Connor had about joining Buddyguard were dispelled each time he heard about the care they were receiving. Whatever the commitment in becoming a bodyguard, the sacrifice was worthwhile.
Connor watched a surfer catch a wave and ride it all the way in.
‘So could you do it?’ asked Amir.
‘Surf like that?’ said Connor. ‘No chance.’
‘I mean …’ Amir dug his foot into the sand ‘… take a bullet for someone else?’
Connor glanced at his friend. Ever since their body-cover lesson, the spectre of being a ‘bullet-catcher’ had hung over them. No one really talked about it, but Connor had thought long and hard over the matter. Was this a risk he was willing to take? Had his father made such a sacrifice? He’d never been told the full story. And, if his father had, did he have the guts to throw himself in the line of fire?
‘Perhaps,’ replied Connor. ‘If I cared enough about the person.’
‘But as a buddyguard you won’t know the person at first,’ said Marc.
‘And worse – you might not even like them!’ added Jason, flipping a burger and glancing in Connor’s direction.
Ling pulled out her headphones. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, Amir. Jody says such a situation rarely happens.’
‘Rarely doesn’t mean never,’ replied Amir. ‘And who’s to say another person’s life is worth more than mine?’
‘I suppose it’s about standing up for what is right,’ said Connor. ‘The strong protecting the weak.’