Hostage (Bodyguard #1)

Operation Hidden Shield had come to an abrupt and humiliating end.

Despite the President’s kind words, Connor couldn’t help feeling that he’d failed. While Alicia was physically safe and unharmed, he’d hurt her more deeply than any knife or bullet. And it was infuriating that she’d found out about his role by him protecting her from a  water pistol! That mistake, as Dirk had rightly pointed out, had cost him dearly. Maybe if it had been a real gun, the outcome would have been different. Alicia would have been thankful for his presence rather than resentful. Then again, he reminded himself that he’d reacted too late to the threat, so he’d failed in his duty anyway. And even if she had survived the attack, she would have always felt their friendship had been based on a lie. That he was ‘employed’ to like her – which in his heart couldn’t be further from the truth.

Connor clasped his father’s key fob in one hand. Looking down, he studied his father’s face.

‘I’m sorry, Dad, I hope I’m not a disappointment to you,’ Connor whispered. ‘Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a bodyguard.’

He clipped the key fob to his backpack of Buddyguard gear, then began throwing the rest of his belongings into his suitcase. He was almost finished when his mobile rang and the Buddyguard logo flashed on the screen.

Connor had been dreading this call – having to explain to Colonel Black why the assignment was over. He knew the colonel had pinned high hopes on him. A successful operation for the United States government would have boosted the reputation of his organization dramatically.

Taking a deep breath, he pressed Accept and Colonel Black’s craggy face appeared. Jack braced himself for an earful.

‘We’ve received Secret Service’s report,’ he growled. ‘What’s your side of the story?’

Connor related the events of the previous evening.

Colonel Black nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘The director’s comments do seem overly harsh. And we knew we’d hit this problem sooner or later. It just came a little sooner than any of us expected. Have you tried convincing the President’s daughter of the value of a buddyguard? She has more freedom with you than she would ever get under adult agent supervision.’

‘There hasn’t been the opportunity,’ replied Connor. ‘And it’s a little more complicated than that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Alicia …’ He sought for the right words. ‘… took a liking to me.’

Colonel Black shook his head in despair. ‘Teenage hormones! They’ll be the downfall of this organization.’

‘But I didn’t encourage her or –’

‘Listen, Connor, I don’t blame you for what’s happened. And neither should you blame yourself. Being a bodyguard is one of the toughest jobs in the world. And being a buddyguard is even harder. So let’s put this assignment behind us and move on. You’re to return to HQ for further training.’

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Connor, relieved he hadn’t been entirely chewed up and spat out by the colonel.

‘I’m going to hand you over to Charley now. She’s made all your travel arrangements.’

Charley appeared, her expression serious and her tone businesslike. ‘I’ve emailed your itinerary and e-ticket. Your flight is at 1600 hours out of Dulles International. A car will pick you up at 1200 hours.’

She glanced off-screen and Connor heard a door close. He guessed Colonel Black had left the room. When Charley looked back, her sky-blue eyes had softened.

‘Don’t beat yourself up over this, Connor,’ she said, keeping her voice low. ‘The first assignment is often an ordeal. And I don’t need to tell you my last one was a complete nightmare. But we do get decent assignments. Jason’s currently in the Caribbean working protection on a client’s beach holiday. His updates consist mostly of the progress of his suntan!’

Connor managed a weak laugh. ‘Lucky for some, I guess. But I doubt the colonel is going to send me on another mission any time soon. And I’m not sure I could face one after upsetting my Principal so badly.’

Hearing the heartache in Connor’s voice, Charley replied, ‘Look, your flight isn’t until this afternoon. Why don’t you find Alicia and speak to her?’

‘She doesn’t want to talk … or even be anywhere near me.’

‘That was yesterday. Maybe she’s cooled off by now. You need to make amends otherwise you’ll never forgive yourself. Explain to her what it means to be a buddyguard and why you did it. You never know, she might change her mind. And if not, she’ll at least know your intentions were good.’

Connor nodded, knowing Charley was right. He needed closure. He wanted Alicia to know how much her friendship meant to him and that it had been real – not just a part of his job description.





Ending the connection to Charley and leaving his bags on the bed, Connor went to look for the President’s daughter. But she wasn’t in her bedroom. Nor was she in the solarium on the third floor. Nor her favourite getaway – the rooftop terrace. He checked the gym, music room, guest bedrooms and even the linen cupboard. But to no avail.

Spotting a passing Secret Service agent, he asked if he’d seen her.

The agent shook his head. ‘Sorry, not part of my detail today.’

‘Do you happen to know if she’s gone out?’

‘No idea,’ replied the agent. ‘But I can check for you.’

The agent radioed in his request. A minute later, he received a response. ‘No, not according to her schedule,’ he repeated.

‘Thanks,’ said Connor, racking his brains to think where she might be.

He headed to the ground floor, reasoning the library would be as good a place as any to escape unwanted company. He passed a tour group on the stairs making their way up from the State Floor. A few glanced curiously in his direction, but most were gazing in awe at the grand staircase with its glass-cut chandelier and portraits of twentieth-century presidents from Truman to Nixon.

Alicia wasn’t in the library. But that was no surprise to Connor now he’d discovered the White House was open to tour groups that day. Thinking of all the other places she might be, he tried the cinema, the dining room, then the bowling alley. He looked everywhere he was permitted to go. As the general staff weren’t aware of his dismissal yet, none questioned his movement through the White House.

Growing more concerned as to Alicia’s whereabouts, Connor went outside to search the grounds. Aside from the expected roaming patrols, the tennis and basketball courts were deserted. So too were the putting green and children’s garden. He asked one of the sentry agents if he’d seen Alicia.

‘Negative,’ he replied.

On Connor’s urging, he radioed the other patrols.

‘None of the gates report that she’s left the premises. Have you checked the swimming pool? Otherwise, she’s probably inside the main residence.’

‘Of course, the swimming pool!’ said Connor, hurrying off.

But Alicia wasn’t there either.

Connor finally decided to call her on his mobile. He hadn’t tried before since he doubted she’d answer when his number came up. His assumption had been right. His call was diverted straight to voicemail:  ‘Hi, you’ve reached me! If you’re calling  this number, you know who I am. So leave a message after the beep …’

‘Hi, it’s Connor, I want to apologize for …’ He hated answer machines and couldn’t think of what to say that wouldn’t sound crass or pathetic. ‘Look, just ring me back.’ He ended the call.

At this point he was on the verge of giving up. Then Connor remembered the tracking device that was planted in Alicia’s phone cover. For emergency use only, Amir had said. Connor judged that ‘Principal missing’ qualified as an emergency. Unlocking his mobile, he pressed the green target icon. The phone froze and he had to reboot. But on the second attempt the Tracker app popped up on the screen.

The map zeroed in on Washington DC and his green locator flashed steadily beside the swimming pool. Almost immediately a reassuring red dot appeared within the White House. He zoomed in closer.

Chris Bradford's books