Bodyguard: Target
Page 1
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Read More
Chris Bradford is a true believer in ‘practising what you preach’. For his award-winning Young Samurai series, he trained in samurai swordsmanship, karate, ninjutsu and earned his black belt in Zen Kyu Shin Taijutsu.
For his new Bodyguard series, Chris embarked on an intensive close-protection course to become a qualified professional bodyguard. During his training, he acquired skills in unarmed combat, defensive driving, tactical firearms, threat assessments, surveillance, and even anti-ambush exercises.
His bestselling books are published in over twenty languages and have garnered more than thirty children’s book awards and nominations.
Before becoming a full-time author, he was a professional musician (who once performed for HRH Queen Elizabeth II), songwriter and music teacher.
Chris lives in England with his wife and two sons.
To discover more about Chris go to www.chrisbradford.co.uk
Books by Chris Bradford
The Bodyguard series (in reading order)
HOSTAGE
RANSOM
AMBUSH
TARGET
The Young Samurai series (in reading order)
THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR
THE WAY OF THE SWORD
THE WAY OF THE DRAGON
THE RING OF EARTH
THE RING OF WATER
THE RING OF FIRE
THE RING OF WIND
THE RING OF SKY
Available as ebook
THE WAY OF FIRE
To my goddaughter, Lucinda –
Always there for you
PUFFIN BOOKS
Praise for the Bodyguard series:
Brilliant Book Award 2014 – Winner
Hampshire Book Award 2014 – Winner
‘Bone-crunching action adventure’
– Financial Times
‘Breathtaking action … as real as it gets’
– Eoin Colfer, author of the bestselling Artemis Fowl series
‘Bradford has combined Jack Bauer, James Bond, and Alex Rider to bring us the action-packed thriller’
– Goodreads.com
‘Wholly authentic … the action and pace are spot on. Anyone working in the protection industry at a top level will recognize that the author knows what he’s writing about’
– Simon, ex-SO14 Royalty Close Protection
‘A gripping page-turner that children won’t be able to put down’
– Red House
‘Will wrestle you to the ground and leave you breathless. 5 Stars’
– Flipside magazine
‘A gripping, heart-pounding novel’
– Bookaholic
‘The best bodyguard is the one nobody notices.’
With the rise of teen stars, the intense media focus on celebrity families and a new wave of millionaires and billionaires, adults are no longer the only target for hostage-taking, blackmail and assassination – kids are too.
That’s why they need specialized protection …
BUDDYGUARD
BUDDYGUARD is a secret close-protection organization that differs from all other security outfits by training and supplying only young bodyguards.
Known as ‘buddyguards’, these highly skilled teenagers are more effective than the typical adult bodyguard, who can easily draw unwanted attention. Operating invisibly as a child’s constant companion, a buddyguard provides the greatest possible protection for any high-profile or vulnerable young person.
In a life-threatening situation, a buddyguard is the final ring of defence.
The hot Californian sun glinted off the SUV’s hubcaps as it cruised the quiet suburban street. The man behind the wheel spotted a schoolgirl skipping along the sidewalk, his attention caught by her ponytail of golden-blonde hair flicking from side to side. Judging from the carefree bounce in her step, she was no more than ten years old.
With a quick glance in his rear-view mirror, the driver slowed down. He was almost alongside the girl when a voice cried out, ‘Charlotte!’
She stopped and turned. Another girl, petite with almond-shaped eyes, emerged from the porch of a large house. Her pink backpack rode high on her shoulders as she ran across the sun-baked lawn.
‘Nǐ hǎo, Kerry!’ Charlotte called back.
Her friend smiled warmly, revealing a set of braces. ‘Hey, your Chinese is getting good.’
‘I’ve been practising,’
said Charlotte as the SUV continued past, unnoticed.
‘You want to learn some more?’ Kerry asked.
‘Yeah,’ Charlotte replied eagerly. ‘We could use it as a secret code at school.’
Kerry moved closer and whispered, ‘A best-friend language.’ She held up her little finger. ‘Friends forever?’
Charlotte entwined her own little finger round Kerry’s. ‘Friends forever.’
Then, hand in hand, they set off down the road. At the junction the silver SUV with tinted windows pulled up in front of them, and the passenger door swung open.
‘Excuse me, girls,’ said the driver with a forlorn look. ‘Can you help me? I’m a bit lost.’
They both stared at the man, taking in his bald head, reddened cheeks and beginnings of a double chin. Intrigued by his accent, Charlotte asked, ‘Are you from England?’
The man nodded. ‘On holiday. I’m supposed to meet my daughter at Disneyland, but I missed the junction off the highway.’
‘You really are lost,’ said Kerry. ‘Disneyland’s in Anaheim. You’re in North Tustin.’
The man sighed and shook his head at the map on the passenger seat. ‘American roads! They’re almost as wide as they are long. Can you show me exactly where I am?’
‘Sure,’ said Kerry, leaning in to look at the map.
The man’s eyes lingered briefly on Charlotte. Then he turned his full attention to Kerry.
Charlotte noticed an illuminated screen on the dashboard. ‘Why not use your satnav?’ she suggested.
The man responded with a tight smile. ‘Can’t work it for the life of me. Rental car.’
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. His explanation was unconvincing; even her dad could work a satnav. ‘Kerry, I think we should be go–’
Before Kerry could move, the man rammed a stun gun against her neck. Kerry shrieked, her body juddering with a million volts. Her eyes rolled back and she fell limp. The man seized Kerry’s backpack straps and, with a vicious tug, wrenched her body into the footwell.
Shocked by the speed of the attack, Charlotte stood rooted to the spot. She didn’t try to grab Kerry, or even call for help. She just watched as the door slammed shut on her best friend. Then the SUV shot off, sped round a corner and disappeared.
FOUR YEARS LATER …
Charley gazed at the thin line of horizon separating sea and sky. In the sun’s warm summer glow, she waited for the telltale ripple that would swell into the perfect wave to ride. Yet, as the ocean lapped gently against her surfboard, a shudder of uneasiness swept through her.
On instinct she glanced around but saw only other surfers bobbing on the water, each biding their time for the next decent wave. Charley shook the dark feeling away and focused on the horizon. She was determined not to let old memories surface and cloud the rest of her day.
She surfed to forget.
Out on the water, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just her, the board and the waves.
In the distance a ripple grew into a promising swell. Charley splashed saltwater in her face and ran her hands through her damp sun-bleached hair to clear her mind. Then she heard a name she thought she’d left behind for good.
‘Hey, Charlotte!’ called a voice. ‘Charlotte Hunter?’
Charley turned to see a young, tanned surfer paddle up beside her. No one had called her Charlotte since she’d moved down from North Tustin to San Clemente on the coast.
‘It is you,’ he declared, sitting up on his board. A mop of tousled sandy hair half-covered his eyes but stopped short of concealing the easy smile that greeted her gaze. A couple of years older than Charley, he wore a tight black vest that emphasized his impressive physique.
Good-looking as he was, Charley didn’t recognize him. ‘Sorry, you’ve got me confused with someone else,’ she said.
The young surfer studied her a moment longer. ‘No, it is you,’ he insisted. ‘I saw you a couple of summers back at the Quiksilver surf championships. You were truly awesome! Totally deserved to win. Takes some serious skills to pull off those turns. And that final kickflip was sick!’
Blindsided by his praise, Charley mumbled thanks, then returned her attention to the approaching swell.
‘So, where have you been hiding?’ he asked, not taking the hint. ‘After you won, you kinda dropped off the radar.’
Charley’s gaze didn’t waver from the horizon and she kept the grief from her voice. ‘My parents died in a plane crash.’
The surfer opened then closed his mouth, the lapping of the sea and the breaking of waves on the shoreline filling the awkward silence.
It took all Charley’s willpower to suppress the despair that threatened to engulf her. If losing her best friend wasn’t enough, her parents had been killed during a terrorist hijacking of a passenger jet only two years after Kerry’s kidnapping. The double tragedy had almost broken her.
Charley desperately willed her wave closer. She needed to be in its pocket, surfing at the edge of her ability, where thoughts of her parents – and of Kerry – were drowned out by the sheer power of the ocean.
‘No offence, but I like to surf alone,’ she said, circling her board round in readiness to catch the oncoming wave.
‘Sure … I understand,’ said the young surfer breezily. ‘But if you want to hang out some time we’re having a beach party tomorrow night. My name’s Bud –’ The urgent honking of car horns from the coastal road interrupted his pick-up attempt. ‘What’s got them so freaked?’
Then they both spotted a huge grey dorsal fin cutting through the waves.
A lifeguard’s cry of ‘SHARK!’ sent a spike of fear through every surfer in the water.
‘Let’s bail!’ said Bud, paddling furiously for the shoreline with every other sane surfer.
But Charley remained where she was. Shark or no shark, she intended to wait for her wave. It was a beauty – powerful, glassy and promising a perfect A-frame break. And if she was going to be shark bait, then so be it. In her experience of life so far, she’d learnt that fate had already dealt the cards. She couldn’t change the outcome. That fact didn’t make her any less scared of the shark. Just realistic.
She watched the ominous fin slice through the water, then disappear beneath the surface. The presence of the predator at least explained her earlier unease.
With the swell rolling in behind her, Charley began to paddle. She felt the rise of the ocean and the intense energy of the wave building. A familiar thrill pulsed through her veins as her board rapidly picked up speed … then, just as she was popping to her feet, the shark broke the surface. It was a great white, some four metres long.
Charley almost wiped out. Only now did she regret letting her stubborn need to surf override her survival instinct. But the shark wasn’t interested in her. Its target was a young lad on a long board much closer to shore. Charley watched in mute horror as the great white bore down on its prey, opening its formidable jaws and sinking its teeth into both boy and board, before dragging them under.
Recovering her balance, Charley took the drop down the wave. It was a clean break, offering a safe run all the way to the beach … but she made a snap decision to change her line when the boy popped up again. Screaming for help, he was still caught in the jaws of the great white, only his long board preventing him from being torn apart.
She carved her way towards him. She figured she had a slim chance of saving the boy if she could time her descent to collide directly into the shark’s head.
Charley had just a second to realize how crazy h
er stunt was before the tip of her board struck the shark with such force that she flipped over the top. Somersaulting through the air, she plunged head first into the sea. The wave broke hard, barrelling everything along in its path. Charley was spun over and over. Water roared in her ears. For one horrifying moment she believed she might never surface again. Then the mighty wave passed and her head bobbed up in the foaming water.
Gasping for breath, she searched around for the boy. By some miracle her insane plan had worked. The great white had released its death grip, and the boy was floundering a few metres away, blood pouring from his wounds. Retrieving her board on its leash, Charley paddled hard towards him. She could see the great white circling for another attack.
‘Take my hand!’ she cried.
The boy weakly reached out and Charley pulled him to her just as the enraged shark exploded out of the water. The great white missed the boy by a fraction, its jaws clamping down on to his long board instead. Still attached by the leash, the boy was almost torn from her grip. Charley snatched the small dive knife strapped to her ankle and cut the plastic line.
With blood swirling in the sea, the great white whipped into a feeding frenzy. Within seconds the creature had shredded the long board to pieces, then its cold black eyes turned to Charley. Suppressing a stab of panic, she grabbed the flailing boy and hauled him on to her own board.
‘Hold tight,’ she told him as the next wave rolled in.
Kicking hard, Charley body-surfed towards the beach. The wave bore them all the way, mercifully dumping them both in the shallows. Four surfers ran in and dragged them the last few metres to the safety of the shore. Once on the beach, the lifeguard began emergency medical treatment on the boy.
‘Call an ambulance!’ he ordered one of the surfers.
‘Will he live?’ asked Charley, getting shakily to her feet. She was breathless and her heart pounded. Bystanders were asking if she was all right, but she waved them away.
‘I should think so,’ the lifeguard replied as he stemmed the boy’s blood loss. ‘Thanks to you.’