Bodyguard--Recruit (Book 1)

by Chris Bradford

  “Get closer, you two,” said Kalila, lining up the shot.

  As she took several photos from different angles, Connor began to notice a low buzz of excitement among the tour group. He glanced over and saw that several people were no longer listening to the guide. Instead they were staring in their direction. Or, to be more accurate, in Alicia’s direction.

  “Is it really her?” a large lady whispered to her equally bulbous husband.

  “Looks like the president’s daughter to me,” he replied, holding up an image on his phone’s web browser and comparing it with the dark-haired girl on the steps.

  An Italian man, overhearing their conversation, plucked up the courage to take a sneaky photo of Alicia, while poorly feigning a shot of the Reflecting Pool behind. Connor instinctively began to shield Alicia from their attention.

  “Shall we go?” suggested Connor as a Japanese man joined in, focusing his lens on the president’s daughter’s face with zero subtlety.

  “What’s the hurry?” Alicia replied, still looking toward Kalila and oblivious to the rapidly growing interest. “You haven’t seen Lincoln’s statue yet.”

  “I can come back another day.”

  By now the tour group had all turned toward the president’s daughter and were drawing nearer for a better shot. A tall man in a baseball hat and sunglasses was at Alicia’s side in an instant.

  “It’s time to move on,” said Kyle, his statement not quite an order, but leaving no room for argument either.

  Alicia now saw the reason and smiled apologetically at the tour group. “Sorry, I’ve got to go!”

  As word spread and the crowd began to thicken, Secret Service agents seemed to materialize out of nowhere. They drew into a “closed box” formation, creating a fluid cordon of protection around Alicia. Connor was by her side as the agents swiftly escorted her and Kalila down the steps and along the paved avenue toward the waiting limo. By the time they reached the car, the steps of the Lincoln Memorial were swarming with tourists, all attempting to catch a final glimpse of the president’s daughter.

  43

  Secure within the confines of the limo, Alicia sat fuming on the backseat.

  “Are you okay?” Kalila asked as the car and its escort vehicle pulled away from the gathered crowd.

  Alicia didn’t reply for a moment. She just stared through the darkened window at the passing traffic.

  Then through clenched teeth, she said, “The Secret Service drives me crazy! I mean, those people were only taking photos.”

  “I’m sure Kyle had a good reason for asking us to leave,” Connor said, glancing at the agent who sat on the other side of the glass privacy screen in the front passenger seat. He knew the Secret Service agents were used to dealing with crowds, so Kyle must have been alerted to another potential threat. In fact, he was certain something more than just a mob of tourists had spooked the agent.

  “But I have to put up with this all the time!” Alicia cried, her frustration turning to anger. “At the slightest sign of . . . something . . . I don’t know what . . . I’m whisked away. Usually, just as I’m starting to relax or—God forbid—enjoy myself. But how can I, when agents are always around me, dictating my movements, controlling my social life? Ironic, isn’t it, Connor? I’m the first daughter in the land of the free, but I’m really a prisoner!”

  “The Secret Service agents are there for your protection,” Connor reminded her.

  Alicia gave a weary sigh. “I know that, but why do they have to be so paranoid?”

  “I suppose it’s their job to be. So you—and your parents—don’t have to worry about your safety.”

  “But they’re robbing me of any life!”

  “Isn’t that a little extreme?” Kalila said gently.

  Alicia shook her head furiously. “Not at all! Can you imagine spending every waking moment under surveillance? Seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. I can’t just walk out the door, meet up with my friends and go shopping. Everything has to be planned in advance. And forget about having a boyfriend. If I stay out later than my father approves, he orders the Secret Service to bring me home! And you try saying good night to a boyfriend at the door of the White House with the glare of floodlights and a Secret Service agent by your side. There’s not much you can do except shake hands. In fact, I’m amazed my father even let Connor stay in the White House!”

  Connor offered Alicia an awkward smile, hoping she wouldn’t press the matter any further. He’d worked hard not to expose his role as her personal bodyguard. But he needn’t have worried; Alicia was too upset to read anything more into the situation. Her eyes began to glaze over with tears, and Kalila put a comforting arm around her friend.

  “You think that’s bad, then you clearly haven’t met my brothers,” she said, her voice gently soothing. “They’re as overly protective as your Secret Service—and I have to put up with them for life!”

  Alicia attempted a smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to get angry with you.”

  “I know,” said Kalila, finding her a tissue from the seat’s side pocket.

  “It’s just . . . so unbearable. Last month I wasn’t allowed to leave the White House for a whole week because of some threat or other that came to nothing. And I missed out on Grace’s sleepover.”

  “She understood. We all did.”

  Alicia took a deep breath. “But I feel like I’m always missing out.”

  “Then try not to let it ruin the rest of this weekend,” said Kalila. “You’ve been given permission to be Connor’s tour guide, and there’s still a lot more of Washington to explore—the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument, the Air and Space Museum.”

  Alicia nodded and dried her tears. “Sorry, Connor. You must think I’m a spoiled princess.”

  “Of course not,” he replied genuinely, having witnessed firsthand her claustrophobic life. “It must be tough having no privacy. But, at the same time, I can understand why you need Secret Service protection.”

  “But that doesn’t make their presence any easier,” she said, glancing bitterly toward Kyle, then gazing out the window at the pedestrians wandering freely about their business. “Sometimes I wish I could be someone else for a day—just disappear.”

  44

  Connor stopped browsing the National Air and Space Museum’s gift shop, suddenly aware that Alicia was no longer with him. “Where’d Alicia go?” he asked Kalila.

  “She said she’ll be back in a minute,” replied Kalila, inspecting a soft toy monkey in a blue astronaut suit from the souvenir rack. “I can’t believe NASA used monkeys to test the biological effects of space travel! That’s so cruel.”

  Connor’s eyes swept the gift shop as he absently picked up a cuddly bear in a white satin space suit and helmet. “Looks like they sent bears up too!” he joked, finally locating Alicia in the checkout line. He also spotted Kyle near the exit of the gift shop, pretending to be a father simply waiting for his family. Agent Brooke was posted at the entrance, another agent was at a door marked Private, and a fourth browsed the vast array of souvenirs like a typical tourist. With all exits covered, there was no way Alicia could just “disappear.”

  “Did you find any other souvenirs for your family?” asked Alicia, returning with a small foil bag in her hand.

  Connor shook his head. He’d already bought a silk scarf for his gran and a Navajo feather bracelet for his mum from the American Indian museum. But with his assignment open-ended, he had no idea when he’d be able to give them the gifts personally.

  Alicia handed him the bag. “I thought you might like to try this.”

  “Thanks,” said Connor, examining the packaging. There was a picture of NASA’s space shuttle taking off, with the words Mission Pack: Freeze-Dried Ice Cream. He looked at Alicia. “Are you serious?”

  Alicia offered a wry smile. “Supposedly, the early Apol
lo astronauts ate it for a snack.”

  Ripping open the foil, he pulled out a multicolored block of Neapolitan “ice cream” that was bone dry and as light as Styrofoam. With trepidation, he bit off a chunk.

  “Not bad. Tastes like . . . solid cotton candy,” he said through a mouthful of the crumbling dehydrated dessert.

  Since the incident at the Lincoln Memorial, Alicia and Kalila had taken him on a whistle-stop tour of the best sights along the National Mall. At the Museum of American History, he’d been shown the tattered red, white and blue flag that had inspired the US national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” In the Museum of Natural History, he’d stood at the foot of a sixty-five-million-year-old Triceratops nicknamed Hatcher and gazed upon the 45-carat Hope Diamond once owned by Marie Antoinette—the jewel being surrounded by even more security than Alicia. Then, passing via the Museum of the American Indian, the three of them had finally ended up at the Air and Space Museum with its displays of spy planes, sound-barrier-breaking fighters and historic spaceships. To top it off, he’d had his photo taken in front of all the key landmarks, including the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building and even, for a joke, the White House.

  Connor had been the ultimate tourist, and Alicia had tried her best to be his enthusiastic host. But the shadow cast by the ever-present Secret Service had dampened her spirits. Although she willingly joined him in the photos, her smile no longer quite reached her eyes.

  “How about we go shopping?” suggested Kalila.

  Although shopping wasn’t high on Connor’s list of favorite activities, the suggestion seemed to perk Alicia up.

  “I suppose that’s one benefit of the Secret Service,” she said, managing a smile. “We always have a taxi on hand.”

  Leaving the Air and Space Museum, they jumped into the limo.

  “Take us to Dupont Circle,” said Alicia.

  The driver nodded and headed northwest up Pennsylvania Avenue.

  “But I thought you preferred the stores in Georgetown,” said Kalila.

  “I do, but I’ve heard there’s a fantastic new boutique that opened up just off Connecticut Avenue,” Alicia explained, and both girls began to get quite excited at the prospect.

  Connor noticed Kyle talking rapidly into his wrist mic, no doubt instructing his advance team to scope out the intended clothing store before their arrival.

  The SAP team didn’t get long to do their sweep. The car ride only took ten minutes.

  As the three of them entered the boutique, Connor recognized the watchful face of a Secret Service agent loitering near the entrance. As soon as Kyle’s team had deployed themselves, he made a subtle exit with the rest of the SAP agents.

  The store itself was a top-end boutique with wall-to-wall fashion from Europe, as well as unique garments from New York, LA and San Francisco. Alicia seemed to be in her element as she browsed the racks of designer clothes.

  “What do you think of this?” asked Alicia, pulling out a sheer gold dress.

  “It’s gorgeous,” gasped Kalila. “Are you thinking of wearing it to the school dance?”

  Alicia nodded. “For you.”

  “No,” she protested. “I couldn’t get away with wearing that. Besides, I wouldn’t be allowed to. It’s far too short. But you could—” Kalila’s phone beeped. She looked at the message and sighed. Texting a reply, she explained, “Sorry, I have to go home.”

  Alicia tried to hide her disappointment. “Do you want us to drop you off?”

  “Thanks, but my brother’s picking me up.” Her phone beeped again. “Wow, he’s parked just around the corner. I told you they’re my own Secret Service!”

  Alicia laughed, and the two girls hugged each other good-bye.

  “See you on Monday, Connor,” said Kalila.

  Connor waved farewell as she hurried out of the store.

  “Well, it looks like you’ll have to be my clothes judge,” declared Alicia, selecting a couple more glamorous dresses from the rack. “I’ll just try these on, then we’ll grab a bite to eat.”

  Connor watched Alicia make her way to the changing rooms and smiled to himself in bemused amazement. Never would he have imagined that one day he’d be shopping with the president’s daughter, let alone giving advice on what she should wear.

  “How’s it going?” asked Kyle, appearing at Connor’s shoulder.

  “Fine,” replied Connor. “But I think you’re doing all the work.”

  Kyle shook his head. “There hasn’t been one moment when you weren’t aware of your surroundings. Seems to me you’re a natural at this game.”

  Connor smiled at the compliment—the first he’d received from the Secret Service. “What happened back at the Lincoln Memorial?”

  “One of the team pinged a man on our threat list. Rather than cause a scene or alarm Alicia, I decided to simply avoid contact.”

  Alicia popped her head out of the changing-room cubicle and waved Connor over.

  “Good luck!” Kyle remarked as he wandered off, to all intents and purposes appearing the bored husband waiting for his wife, rather than a Secret Service agent protecting the president’s daughter.

  Connor headed over to Alicia and stood beside her cubicle.

  “Care to join me on a little adventure?” whispered Alicia, a mischievous grin on her face.

  “What do you mean?” asked Connor.

  Alicia glanced toward an emergency exit at the back of the store.

  Immediately grasping her intentions, Connor replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a killjoy! Even a soldier’s son must have broken the rules.”

  “Your father wouldn’t be happy.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks,” she shot back. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? I get recognized and asked for an autograph or photo.”

  Connor could imagine a whole host of other possibilities, none of them good.

  “Anyway, if there’s real danger, I have a panic alarm in my bag,” Alicia insisted.

  “I still think it’s too risky,” said Connor.

  Alicia scowled. “Fine. Then don’t come with me. I just thought it would be fun.”

  She beckoned the shop assistant over. “I think that lady over there might be a shoplifter,” she whispered, pointing to a blond-haired woman browsing a nearby rack. “I’m sure I saw her put something in her bag.”

  “Thank you, I’ll call security,” replied the assistant, taking Alicia at her word.

  Connor looked over his shoulder at the shoplifter, only to discover that the accused was Agent Brooke. A few moments later, a burly security guard approached her and asked to inspect her bag. While the agent was distracted, Alicia bolted for the emergency exit.

  Connor realized he had to alert Kyle. It was his duty. But if he did tell Kyle, Alicia would know and she’d no longer confide in him as a friend. He’d lose that essential connection that enabled him to be an effective and covert bodyguard.

  Caught between a rock and a hard place, Connor had no choice but to follow her.

  45

  Bursting out the back door into an alley, Alicia was off like a shot. Connor was on her tail, but he was left in the dust as she sprinted past some Dumpsters and disappeared around a corner.

  “Wait!” cried Connor, realizing now why Alicia was the captain of her school track team.

  He pursued her down a deserted side street. But Alicia was still pulling away.

  “Keep up!” she called, giggling at the thrill of her escape.

  Grateful for all his fitness training, Connor put on a burst of speed. His sneakers pounded the concrete as he followed her left onto the main road. Then he lost her . . .

  The sidewalk was crowded with shoppers, and there was no sign of Alicia. Connor threw his hands up in despair. He was her sole bodyguard no
w, and he’d lost track of her within the first minute. Just as he was about to shout her name, a hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a shop doorway.

  “Careful, they might spot you!” Alicia whispered, her eyes full of rebellious delight.

  Connor realized Charley had been right. Only now was Alicia showing her true colors. And the president’s daughter had never looked happier. Like a bird freed from its cage, she was all aflutter with excitement.

  Alicia snatched a quick peek up and down the street.

  “Not a Secret Service agent in sight!” she said, laughing.

  And she thinks that’s good news, thought Connor. The real pressure of protection was now on his shoulders—and his alone.

  Oblivious to Connor’s worries, Alicia opened her bag and pulled out a short platinum-blond wig and a large pair of dark sunglasses. Pinning up her hair, she popped on the wig, then slipped on the Jackie Onassis–style glasses. In an instant she was transformed from president’s daughter to . . . anybody.

  “How do I look?” Alicia asked.

  “You planned this!” Connor exclaimed.

  “Yes,” she admitted with a half-guilty smile. “President Johnson’s daughter used to wear a disguise to dodge the media. I thought I could do the same to escape the Secret Service.”

  Connor was astonished at the lengths Alicia was willing to go to for some personal space.

  “Come on, let’s go,” said Alicia, joining the stream of pedestrians.

  “Where to?” asked Connor.

  “U Street. It has some cool places to shop and eat.”

  Connor stayed close by Alicia’s side. If anything did happen, he wanted to be within arm’s reach and able to react fast. From behind his mirrored sunglasses, he scanned their surroundings just as Bugsy his surveillance instructor had taught him. His eyes flicked between the faces of approaching people, making snap decisions about their intentions. He watched the passing traffic for any suspicious vehicles, while noting any nearby alleyways in case someone was concealed there. In the highest state of Code Yellow, he had to be alert to anything that could materialize into a threat. The good thing was that Alicia was no longer identifiable as the president’s daughter. That reduced the risks, but didn’t eliminate them entirely. Every city had its fair share of crime, violence and accidents—and Washington, DC, was no exception.