Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2)

by Chris Bradford

  Ling looked up into Brad’s craggy face. ‘Then why am I being dismissed?’

  ‘Bodyguards and their Principals can be as close as bread and butter … or fight like cats and dogs. Sometimes there’s simply a clash of personalities. I’ve had such moments in my career. You just gotta roll with the punches.’

  ‘I’ll roll her with a punch,’ muttered Ling, sealing up the bag and heading for the door.

  Brad raised his eyebrows at Connor, then the two of them followed Ling up to the main deck.

  ‘Aren’t we risking the girls’ safety by losing Ling?’ asked Connor quietly.

  ‘Both myself and the colonel voiced our concerns to Mr Sterling,’ replied Brad. ‘But he’s adamant Ling must go. I’m not happy with it. But, since the girls won’t be leaving the yacht before Ling’s replacement arrives, I can’t foresee any real problems. You’ll just have to work double shifts!’ he added with a wink.

  At the top of the lowered gangway, Ling stopped. ‘Well, Connor, it’s been a blast.’

  ‘Literally,’ said Connor, thinking of the jet ski.

  Ling laughed. ‘How are you ever going to survive without me?’

  Connor shrugged. ‘It’s only four days. And we’re at sea the whole time. Besides, the colonel’s sending Luciana from Bravo team to join me in the Maldives.’

  ‘Good luck to her! She’ll need it.’

  ‘What do you mean by that? Protecting Chloe or working with me?’ said Connor, feigning offence.

  Ling punched him on the arm. ‘You’re all right, Connor. If a little jumpy.’ She started down the steps to the tender. ‘I’ll catch you back at HQ. Just don’t strain yourself putting too much suntan lotion on the girls.’

  Brad started the engine. He was to drop off Ling in Baie Sainte Anne, where she would take a catamaran to the main island and catch a plane home. However, as they were about to leave, Mr Sterling appeared.

  ‘Hold up, Brad. Change of plan.’

  They all turned to him in surprise. Was Ling getting a last-minute reprieve? But Mr Sterling’s expression was too grave for that hope.

  ‘I can’t believe our father just upped and left like that!’ said Chloe, perched on the edge of the jacuzzi, her legs dangling in the bubbling water.

  ‘We haven’t seen much of him anyway,’ Emily muttered as she took a photo of Mahé Island receding into the distance.

  Chloe glanced over the rail at the occupied sunbed in the sky lounge below. ‘I just wish he’d taken Amanda with him.’

  Connor sat quietly at the dining table on the sun deck. It wasn’t his place to pass comment. Mr Sterling had informed his daughters that his editor-in-chief Ruth McArthur had been killed in a suspected mugging incident and that he had to interrupt his holiday to manage the fallout at the newspaper. The yacht had been rerouted via the main island to drop off Mr Sterling and his bodyguard, along with the disgraced Ling, at the airport. Captain Locke had then set a course for the Maldives, where Mr Sterling hoped to rejoin them in a week’s time.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ said Emily, pocketing her phone. ‘This boat’s big enough for all of us. And she’ll probably sunbathe the entire time.’

  Emily screwed shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Connor.

  ‘Yeah, it’s just a headache. I get them a lot. I think it’s my medication.’ Emily headed over to the stairs. ‘I’m going to take a nap. See you at dinner.’

  Connor offered her a sympathetic smile, but remained at the table. There was no reason to shadow her while on board. They were in coastal waters, the yacht was cruising at a sedate speed, and he and Brad had performed a security sweep prior to departing Mahé. The threat level was low.

  Reaching into his polo-shirt pocket, Connor pulled out his mobile. Its orange neoprene cover was still annoyingly bulky, but the waterproofing had been a godsend when he’d dived into the sea to rescue Ling following the jet-ski explosion. Unlocking the screen, he messaged his mum and gran to let them know everything was OK, taking the opportunity before the Orchid entered the open ocean and they lost mobile signal altogether. Then he reached for his book and settled back into his chair.

  ‘Come and join me,’ said Chloe as she immersed herself fully in the jacuzzi.

  Connor glanced over. He was more wary of her since Ling’s unwarranted dismissal. ‘Thank you, but no.’

  Chloe sighed. ‘Don’t be angry with me. I realize Ling was your friend, but she was really getting on my nerves.’

  ‘She was just doing her job,’ Connor replied, not wanting to get into this discussion.

  ‘I realize that, but I couldn’t do a single thing without her intervening or passing comment. It was suffocating. It’s my sister who needs the protection, not me.’

  Connor shook his head. He recognized that Ling’s manner might have been judged abrasive and heavy-handed, but the fact remained there were genuine threats to the girls’ lives. ‘I’m afraid you’re wrong. Both of you are potential targets.’

  ‘That’s my sister’s fault,’ muttered Chloe. ‘I can’t have any fun because of her. Ever since she was kidnapped, I’ve been virtually grounded by my father. I haven’t been able to go to friends’ parties or down the beach or even shopping on my own. Do you know how claustrophobic that feels? This holiday is the first time I’ve been allowed any freedom in over a year.’

  ‘Your father only wants to protect you,’ responded Connor. ‘That intruder last night could have been a kidnapper, an assassin or worse.’

  ‘But it was only Matt,’ said Chloe, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of her hand. ‘The point is my father allows me no freedom at home, and puts me under so much pressure to succeed at school, that I need to let off some steam. Otherwise I’ll go stir-crazy.’

  Connor noticed tears of frustration welling up in Chloe’s eyes and felt a touch of sympathy for her situation. It wasn’t her choice to have twenty-four-hour security.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he relented. ‘Look, when we get to the Maldives, I’ll speak with Luciana and we’ll work out a way to give you some freedom without compromising your safety. Anyway, Luciana’s Brazilian and I’ve heard she likes to party.’

  Chloe’s face lit up. ‘Thanks, you’re a star. Now are you going to join me or not?’

  ‘Best not,’ replied Connor. ‘I’m on duty.’

  ‘You’re always on duty.’ She rested her chin on the side of the jacuzzi and stared at him. ‘As I understand, you’re now my buddyguard until the Maldives. So, as your Principal, I say you need to relax. That was Ling’s problem; don’t make it yours.’

  Connor sighed. He knew he was being manipulated, but he didn’t want to upset her either. An uncooperative Principal was a liability. Besides, a dip in the jacuzzi wouldn’t be crossing any lines as a buddyguard. Putting down his book, he took off his polo-shirt and slipped in opposite her.

  Chloe smiled. ‘See, it’s not so bad, is it?’

  Connor returned her smile. He couldn’t deny the water was wonderfully warm; the bubbles inescapably relaxing. And the setting, in the midst of a glistening ocean and crystal-blue sky, was heavenly. He leant back, resting his arms on the side.

  Chloe’s gaze fell upon his left shoulder where a slim, white scar line was visible. ‘What happened there?’

  ‘Knife wound,’ he explained.

  Her eyes widened with a mix of concern and fascination. ‘Did you get that while protecting someone?’

  Connor nodded. She edged round the jacuzzi for a closer look. ‘Did it hurt?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t have much time to think about it. I was in the middle of a fight trying to escape.’

  Chloe studied his face with admiration. ‘You must have been really brave.’

  Connor shook his head. ‘I didn’t have much choice in the matter.’

  ‘So, do you like my sister at all?’ she asked.

  Caught completely off-guard, Connor mumbled, ‘Yes, of course –’ then he saw Chloe frown – ‘but not
that way. As buddyguards, we have to remain strictly friends with any Principal.’

  ‘Really?’ Chloe bit at her lower lip and moved closer, her arm gently resting on his. ‘That must be very difficult at times, I mean, to remain just friends.’

  As her knee brushed against his, Connor decided it was time to get out of the jacuzzi. He didn’t want to have to explain himself to Charley a second time.

  ‘The investor has sent through another update,’ said Mr WiFi, presenting Oracle with his laptop.

  Lifting the silver-mirrored aviator sunglasses from his nose, the pirate leader peered at the digital photo displayed on the laptop screen. A wash of turquoise-blue waters kissed the white sands of a palm-fringed bay, behind which rose a mist-shrouded peak.

  ‘So what island is that?’

  ‘Mahé,’ replied Mr WiFi.

  Oracle raised a dubious eyebrow. ‘There are countless islands that look the same. How can you be so certain?’

  Mr WiFi right-clicked on the image, opening up its EXIF metadata file. ‘Because the photo has the exact geo-location embedded within it. Along with a time stamp indicating the precise moment it was taken – 14:32 today.’

  Oracle reclined against his gold-tasselled bolster in the shaded living room and laughed. ‘Oh, the benefits of modern technology and the naivety of young people. They’re almost inviting us to join them!’

  Reaching across to a cup on an inlaid ivory tray, he took a sip of spiced black tea. He savoured the taste a moment before asking, ‘What other information has the investor provided?’

  Sitting cross-legged on the crimson rug before his boss, Mr WiFi tugged casually at his goatee. ‘The Orchid is on a north-east bearing, headed for the Maldives. Estimated voyage time four days.’

  ‘And where are my men now?’

  Mr WiFi brought up an electronic chart of the Indian Ocean on his laptop. Zooming in, he pointed to a cluster of tiny green dots visible amid a vast swathe of blue.

  ‘They’re seventy-five nautical miles north-west of the target.’

  ‘Then tell Spearhead to stop playing with small fry,’ said Oracle, putting down his tea. ‘It’s time to reel in the big fish.’

  Leaning against the Orchid’s stern rail, Connor watched Praslin Island slowly shrink towards the darkening horizon. Mahé had long since disappeared from view and soon they’d be leaving the territorial waters of the Seychelles for the open ocean. With his mobile signal down to a single bar, Connor checked in with Alpha team one last time. Charley answered in two rings.

  ‘So how are you coping solo?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine,’ replied Connor, not wanting to admit that he’d spent most of the afternoon evading Chloe’s advances. With nothing else to do on board except read, relax and sunbathe, Chloe seemed to want to let off steam by flirting with him – a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by her sister.

  Not that Connor didn’t appreciate such attention. Chloe was by no means unattractive. But he knew any such lapse of judgement would finish his role as a buddyguard for good and bring an end to the paid-for nursing care his mum and gran so critically needed.

  ‘Well, Luciana’s on schedule to rendezvous with you in the Maldives,’ advised Charley. ‘Ling’s on her way back home, but before boarding she mentioned that you thought you’d spotted the two muggers on Praslin Island.’

  ‘I thought so, but I was wrong,’ admitted Connor.

  ‘Well, there’s a strong chance you may have been right.’

  Connor went rigid at the news. ‘How come?’

  ‘The two suspects were pinged getting on a flight to Dubai the same day the Sterlings departed for their holiday. They were using false passports so their trail went dead after that, but Dubai is a natural stopover en route to the Seychelles.’

  Connor tightened his grip on the phone. So his eyes hadn’t deceived him that day.

  ‘They seem a little persistent for muggers, and too well-resourced,’ Charley continued. ‘As heavies-for-hire, we can only assume someone has paid them to do a job on the Sterlings.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It could be any one of Mr Sterling’s enemies. Amir’s going through his threat report to see if there are any obvious links.’

  ‘Well, the heavies have missed their opportunity here,’ said Connor, watching Mahé retreat into the distance.

  ‘Unless they were responsible for the jet-ski incident.’

  Connor thought this over. ‘I don’t see how they could have got on board the yacht without being noticed. Brad’s run an almost constant watch since the Sterlings’ arrival.’

  ‘Still, it’s a possibility. If they’re determined enough to follow you to the Seychelles, then they won’t be far behind in the Maldives either. So stay alert.’

  ‘Will do,’ said Connor. ‘I’ll contact you as soon as we reach harbour again.’

  ‘OK,’ she replied. ‘And, Connor, be careful applying that suntan lotion.’

  ‘What?’

  But Charley had already ended the call.

  Connor stared at his phone, unable to believe Ling had reported that incident. Now Charley had got completely the wrong idea and, judging by the tone of her voice, wasn’t too happy about it. Furious with Ling, he shoved his mobile in his top pocket and headed across the main deck to the salon. As he slid open the glass doors, he heard someone else on the phone.

  ‘Anything could happen at sea. The girls are on their own. I understand your concern, Joey, but I can handle them.’ Amanda turned round, brushing a lock of golden hair from her eyes, and she spotted Connor. ‘Listen, I’d better go. Ciao.’

  Flipping shut her pink diamond-studded phone, she perched herself on the edge of a leather couch, the split in her white chiffon dress revealing a shapely tanned thigh. With the setting sun streaming through the window behind her, Amanda’s pose was straight out of a high-class fashion shoot.

  ‘Can I help you, Connor?’ she asked, dazzling him with her smile. ‘I was just on the phone to my agent.’

  For a moment, Connor was struck dumb by her beauty. ‘No … I was simply going to check that Chloe and Emily were OK.’

  ‘Ah, that’s sweet,’ she said, sauntering over and ruffling his hair. ‘But I don’t think we’ve anything to worry about, do you?’

  Connor’s eyes followed her departing figure as she strolled out of the door and disappeared on deck.

  ‘Careful, Connor. She’s a real siren.’

  Connor spun round to discover Brad standing at the other end of the salon, a wicked grin on his face.

  ‘A siren?’ Connor queried.

  ‘Yeah, the femme fatales of Greek mythology. Beautiful yet dangerous creatures who’d lure unwary sailors on to the rocks with their enchanting voices and looks.’ He beckoned Connor over. ‘Talking of danger. Since Mr Sterling’s departure with Dan, we’re a man down on the watch. And with Ling gone too I definitely need you to keep an extra sharp lookout while we’re at sea.’

  Connor nodded. ‘No problem. I can take one of the shifts if you like.’

  Brad patted him on the shoulder. ‘Good of you to volunteer. Since you’re so keen, you can do dawn duty, four till eight tomorrow morning.’

  Connor made a face.

  ‘I know it’s early, but hopefully that slot won’t draw attention to your true role. So, best get your head down while you can, tiger.’

  Wishing he hadn’t been quite so eager, Connor headed down to his cabin on the lower deck. As he passed a door to the tender garage, he thought he heard a noise. A clunk. Out of curiosity, he opened the bulkhead door and peered inside. The automatic lights were already on.

  ‘Hello? Geoff?’ he called, thinking that it might be the ship’s engineer.

  But there was no response. On a quick inspection, he found the garage to be empty, save for the tender, the remaining jet ski and an array of diving gear. Yet Connor’s sixth sense was tingling – a sensation he wasn’t alone. Then he spotted the inflatable doughnut on the floor. It had come loose from its fixings. C
onnor put it back on its hook and returned to the bulkhead. Before shutting the door behind him, he took one last look round, but any feelings of being watched had vanished as quickly as they’d appeared.

  Spearhead stood on the prow of the skiff, looking out at the horizon. The ocean was calm, the sun high and the seam between sea and sky a faintly darker smudge in the far-off distance. There was no land in sight to gain any bearings – just a boundless expanse of glassy blue ocean stretching off in all directions.

  Spearhead had received the Orchid’s coordinates over the sat-phone from Mr WiFi, but he still trusted his own eyes more than any GPS or radar.

  ‘See anything yet?’ Big Mouth called from his skiff.

  Spearhead didn’t bother replying. He’d let them know when he spotted their quarry.

  ‘We’ve been floating here for hours,’ moaned Juggs, his lanky body laid out across a wooden seat, oversized feet dangling in the water. ‘If we were in the Gulf of Aden, a hundred cargo ships would have passed us by now. Easy pickings.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Big Mouth, standing up and urinating over the side. ‘Why chase a dolphin when we can land a whale?’

  ‘Oracle foresaw this bounty,’ replied a pirate, snoozing beneath a red headscarf. ‘When has he ever been wrong?’

  Having relieved himself, Big Mouth pulled up his shorts. ‘I just don’t understand why we’re not using the GPS.’

  ‘Because we don’t want to land right on top of our target,’ Spearhead explained with irritation. ‘They’d spot us in no time.’

  A glint of light caught his eye. A vessel, reflecting the sun like a mirror, crested the horizon five nautical miles due east – exactly where he’d predicted. And while Spearhead could see the Orchid, nobody on her deck would be able to detect his tiny skiffs.

  ‘That’s our prize,’ said Spearhead, pointing to the yacht in the distance. ‘We attack at dawn tomorrow.’

  ‘Why not now?’ demanded Big Mouth. ‘Or at dusk?’

  ‘Because we need to hunt like the sharks – attack when least expected. When the prey is least ready to fight back.’