Hostage (Bodyguard #1)

Hazim’s eyes followed the lead limo as it pulled out of the school drive and turned left on to Wisconsin Avenue. The two vehicles merged with the Washington traffic: 14:56.

Hazim didn’t make any attempt to pursue them. He simply thumbed a coded text on his mobile:

   Eagle Chick flying south.



A few moments later his phone pinged in reply, a message flashing on the screen.

   Gamekeeper has the eyeball on

Eagle Chick.





Alicia sat on the leather chair, kicking her heels against the soft beige carpet of the President’s outer office. She absently surfed the internet on her smartphone, then sent several text messages to her school friends. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she sighed with boredom.

From behind her neatly arranged desk, Mrs Holland, the President’s secretary, offered an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sure your father won’t be much longer, Alicia.’

‘You tell me that every time,’ Alicia replied, though not unkindly. Mrs Holland, while fiercely loyal to the President and protective of his schedule, had become almost a surrogate grandmother to her within the confines of the White House.

‘And I’m never wrong, am I?’ said Mrs Holland, peering over her steel-rimmed glasses, as the door to the Oval Office opened and a tall woman with long dark-blonde hair stepped out. She was dressed in a sleek blue business suit and carried a wafer-thin touchscreen computer. Alicia recognized her as Karen Wright, the newly appointed Director of National Intelligence and her father’s principal advisor on all matters related to the security of the United States.

‘Thank you for the update, Karen,’ said President Mendez, appearing in the doorway. ‘Keep me informed of any developments.’

‘Of course, Mr President, you’ll be the first to know,’ replied Karen. Turning to leave, she smiled warmly at Alicia. ‘Hello, Alicia.’

‘Hi, Karen,’ she replied as the director disappeared down the corridor.

President Mendez now faced his daughter. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, honey.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it,’ Alicia replied, picking up her school bag and following her father inside.

Feeling a twinge of parental guilt, President Mendez put an arm round his daughter and kissed the top of her head. ‘But this is the meeting I look forward to the most every day,’ he insisted.

Alicia’s lips tightened as she bit back the urge to say, Is that all I am to you … a meeting?

They sat down together on the sofa. Alicia both enjoyed and hated these moments with her father in equal measure. She understood he was extremely busy as President and appreciated that he always made time for her in his hectic schedule. Yet their ‘meetings’ were all too short and often felt like a duty rather than a relaxed personal moment between father and daughter.

‘How was school?’ President Mendez asked. ‘Has your protection team backed off?’

‘I suppose so,’ she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘They still hang around at breaks, though.’

‘Well, that’s their job,’ he replied, his tone firm yet sympathetic. ‘Did you have dance class today?’

Alicia nodded. ‘Yeah, we’re learning how to salsa.’

President Mendez smiled warmly as a fond memory washed over him. ‘Your mother’s a great salsa dancer. It’s a shame she’s not here to teach you a few moves.’

Alicia glanced up at him hopefully. ‘When’s she getting back?’

‘Still at the end of the month, I’m afraid.’

Groaning, Alicia slumped back against the cushions of the sofa. ‘She’s been gone ages.’

‘Hey, believe me, I’m missing her too,’ said President Mendez, pulling his daughter into a hug. ‘But I’ve a surprise to keep you company in the meantime.’

Alicia visibly perked up at this. She’d been begging her parents for a puppy dog for weeks and looked expectantly up at her father.

‘We’ve a special young guest coming to stay for the summer, maybe longer,’ he announced.

The hopeful look on Alicia’s face faded as fast as it had appeared. This wasn’t any puppy dog. Far from it.

‘Not again!’ she exclaimed, recalling the last ‘special guest’ that had visited on an exchange the previous year – a vain and morose girl of some visiting French dignitary. Despite Alicia’s numerous attempts at making friends, the girl had remained aloof and constantly complained about everything from food to fashion to the weather. It had been even more painful to have her in the same class and hanging around with her friends. When the girl had finally returned home, Alicia couldn’t have been happier.

President Mendez gave his daughter a stern look. ‘I’m sure I needn’t remind you, Alicia, of your obligation as the President’s daughter to welcome guests to our country.’

‘Yeah, but not babysit them!’ she retorted, crossing her arms in defiance.

‘Well, if you’re not keen, I can always cancel the visit,’ said the President nonchalantly. ‘I just thought having a guy your age around the White House would make a nice change.’

Alicia struggled not to let her jaw drop open in shock. A boy? Her age? That was most unusual. Typically, her father was over-protective when it came to the subject of boys.

‘No … it’s OK,’ she backtracked, her interest now piqued. ‘So, who is he?’

‘The son of an old and trusted friend who I knew from my time in Iraq.’

‘He’s an Iraqi?’

‘No, he’s English. His father was a soldier.’

Trying hard not to appear too keen, Alicia began to inspect one of her fingernails for imaginary dirt. ‘When do I get to meet him?’

‘As soon as you’re ready. He’s waiting for you in the Diplomatic Reception Room.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Alicia, jumping up from the sofa and looking at her school clothes in horror. ‘I can’t see him like this!’

President Mendez tried to suppress a smile as he watched his daughter dash out of the Oval Office towards the main residence to get changed. Diplomacy was one thing he excelled at, especially when it came to convincing people that certain decisions were their own.





Connor waited nervously in the large oval reception room on the ground floor of the White House. He was alone, apart from a discreet Secret Service agent, who stood stock-still and silent by a set of double doors like he was part of the furniture. The soft gold and blue decor of the stately room did little to alleviate Connor’s worries. Despite the distraction of the stunning panorama of American landscapes that circled the entire room, Connor couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about his first encounter with the President’s daughter.

How should I act? Formal or casual in my manner? Or should I just be myself? What am  I going to say? And what if Alicia takes an instant dislike to me? How am I going to  do my job then …

As all these concerns whirled through his mind, the double doors opened and President Mendez stepped through, followed by his daughter and two Secret Service agents.

‘Connor, welcome to the White House,’ greeted the President, warmly shaking his hand. ‘I’m so glad we could arrange your stay. Please allow me to introduce my daughter, Alicia.’

For a moment, Connor was speechless. Alicia was even more attractive than the photos had suggested. Dressed in a striking sunflower-yellow frock, her bronze complexion seemed to almost glow, and he found himself mesmerized by her deep brown eyes …

Connor pulled himself together. These weren’t the thoughts of a professional bodyguard. He wasn’t here to admire his Principal. He was here to protect her.

‘Hi … I’m Connor,’ he finally managed to blurt out and, for some reason, bowed.

‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Alicia replied with an amused smile. ‘But there’s no need to bow.’

‘Well … you are the President’s daughter.’

‘True, but I’m not royalty!’

Connor’s cheeks flushed a little with embarrassment at his mistake in etiquette.

President Mendez glanced between them both and waited for either to say more. When neither did, he prompted, ‘Well, now that you’ve met, I suggest, Alicia, you give Connor a tour of our home.’

Chris Bradford's books