Bodyguard: Target

by Chris Bradford

  Witnessing Ash live in concert for the first time, Charley began to understand the mania surrounding this rock star she’d been assigned to protect. Ash lived up to his boast: he was a born performer – a rare superstar with the elusive ‘X Factor’ that legends like Prince, Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake had all possessed. No wonder Ash attracted so much attention … both the good and the bad kind.

  Leaping back to his feet, Ash strode towards Charley’s side of the stage. She stood in the wings with Jessie and the rest of the tour guests, all of them watching awestruck as Ash brought the song to its climax. His voice soared into the chorus: ‘You light up my life. You light up my heart. You light up the moon and the stars and the dark …’

  As he sang this line, he locked eyes with her.

  ‘He’s singing to you!’ cried Jessie excitedly.

  Charley felt an inexplicable thrill race through her body. Then instantly quashed it, firmly reminding herself that she wasn’t supposed to be watching Ash perform. Her duty was to keep an eye out for threats – not easy when captivated by his stunning showmanship.

  Charley broke away from his gaze to refocus on the crowd. Scanning the front rows for potential ‘nutters’, as Big T had put it, she thought the screaming fans all looked a little crazy. Of course, she’d experienced her own crushes on pop idols and movie stars in her time. But, seeing it from the performer’s perspective, only now did she appreciate just how hysterical teenage girls could get. Some were crying with joy, their mascara running in black streaks down their faces. Others were frozen in open-mouthed shrieks, like multiple copies of Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Many were jumping up and down as if electrified, while the remainder simply stared in simpering devotion.

  With a crowd so demented, Charley was glad for the security guards posted at regular intervals round the arena. Given half a chance, the over-enthusiastic hormone-fuelled fans would likely mob the stage and smother their idol to death.

  Beyond the first few rows, the crowd turned into a sea of diminishing faces in the dark. There was no hope of Charley spotting a threat out there. That was the responsibility of the other members of the security team.

  Before the concert, Big T had taken Charley on a tour of the arena as part of his security sweep. ‘Large venues with lots of people should always come with a health warning,’ he had explained as they’d walked the corridors and service tunnels of the building. ‘Any hint of a fire or an emergency and big crowds can turn dangerous very quickly. That’s why you should always familiarize yourself with a venue. Know where your exits are. The best evacuation routes. And the designated locations for transporting the VIP. Some venues are like rabbit warrens and, trust me, you don’t want to get lost in a crisis.’

  Charley had followed his lead, observing as the veteran bodyguard spot-checked emergency exits, identified potential security weak points and allocated postings for his team of guards. So she knew that the crowd was covered throughout the rest of the venue as best it could be. Backstage was even more secure since an official photo pass was required to gain access. Big T had made it Charley’s responsibility, along with another bodyguard stationed in the opposite wing, to stop anyone who mounted the stage from reaching Ash.

  The fans cheered, whooped and clapped as the song ‘You Light Up My Life’ came to an end. The backing band immediately struck up the next number – ‘Indestructible’ – and Ash leapt into the choreographed routine with several dancers. The beat was infectious and Charley couldn’t help glancing at Ash’s impressive moves. That’s when she noticed a red bead of light in the middle of his chest.

  A moment later it was gone. Had she imagined it?

  Ash danced across the stage, whirling round with one of the girls. Then, as he stopped on the beat, the red dot appeared again. Charley didn’t remember seeing the light during the rehearsal earlier that afternoon and she was certain it wasn’t part of the show. To her, the small red dot looked like the laser sighting of a rifle.

  Caught in the haze hanging over the stage, Charley followed the beam’s path up into the darkness. The laser didn’t originate from the lighting rig. It came from one of the private corporate boxes, a box she knew from their security sweep was closed for refurbishment.

  Charley stepped away from the other guests and thumbed her comms unit. ‘Charley to Big T, code red. I think someone has a gun.’

  There was a crackle in her earpiece. ‘Big … crzzzr … say aga … crzzzr.’

  Charley repeated her warning, but interference was breaking up the signal. She tried shouting to one of the security guards near the stage, but the noise of the concert drowned out her voice. And the bodyguard in the opposite wing was too distracted by one of the pretty dancers to notice her madly waving for his attention.

  As Ash danced, the laser beam tracked him across the stage. It leapt and spun, working hard to stay on target. The music stopped and Ash froze in a dramatic pose, one fist raised to the sky.

  ‘In-des-tructible!’ he cried.

  The red dot came to rest in the middle of his chest once more. Ash was oblivious to the threat as he basked in his fans’ applause.

  No more encores, thought Charley, recalling the ominous death threat.

  With perhaps milliseconds before the shooter pulled the trigger, she dashed on to the stage.

  Charley was first blasted by the noise of the crowd, then hit by the heat of the spotlights as she raced past the dancers. The stage suddenly seemed to stretch before her and she prayed she’d reach Ash in time. The red laser dot remained fixed on its superstar target.

  ‘What the hell?’ cried Ash as Charley leapt on him, breaking the beam.

  Shielding Ash with her body, she bundled him offstage to the shocked screams of his fans. Ash was too stunned to resist at first, but quickly regained his senses.

  ‘Let me go!’ he shouted, struggling in her grip.

  Only when she reached the safety of the opposite wing did she release him.

  Ash glared at her. ‘Have you gone completely insane?’

  ‘You were about to get shot!’ replied Charley.

  This news shocked Ash into silence. He reached out to a nearby speaker for support.

  ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ demanded a squat black guy with a trimmed moustache and shaved head. Terry was the tour manager, a hard-nosed, flinty-eyed man with a reputation for running a tight ship on tour. He hated any disruption to the schedule.

  ‘A red laser sight was targeted on Ash. Someone was about to shoot him,’ explained Charley.

  Terry frowned. ‘Did anyone else see this laser?’

  The group of road crew, dancers and musicians who’d gathered round Ash and Charley all shook their heads.

  ‘Did you see it?’ Terry demanded of the other bodyguard, as Big T came hurrying along the gangway to join them. He was a little out of breath and perspiration shone on his bald dome.

  The bodyguard, a blond-haired Adonis with a chisel jaw, crossed his bulging arms and grunted a definitive ‘No’.

  Realizing her credibility with Big T was at stake, Charley said, ‘Of course you didn’t. You were too busy eyeing up that dancer.’

  The bodyguard shot her a dirty look. ‘Who is this girl?’ he sneered.

  ‘A PR assistant,’ cut in Big T. ‘Now, let’s establish if Ash is in danger or not. Charley, did you actually see someone with a gun?’

  Charley shook her head. ‘I spotted the laser sight, that’s all.’

  There was a groan of irritation from the band and r
oad crew.

  ‘Did no one else see it?’ she asked, her tone almost pleading. ‘It was following Ash round the stage!’ She was met by blank and hostile looks.

  ‘It was probably one of the stage lights,’ said the bassist.

  ‘Yes, most probably a stage light,’ agreed the tour manager, his eye twitching as he barely kept his anger in check.

  ‘No. It wasn’t,’ said Charley. ‘The beam came from a corporate box. The one closed for renovation.’

  Big T radioed up to one of his team to check out the box. The group stood in tense silence as they waited for a response. In the main arena, the bewildered crowd started chanting Ash’s name, at first with enthusiasm, then with growing impatience.

  ‘The box is empty. No one there,’ came the reply eventually.

  Everyone stared accusingly at Charley. As a flush of humiliation reddened her cheeks, she wished the ground would just swallow her up.

  ‘False alarm,’ Big T confirmed.

  ‘On with the show!’ ordered the tour manager, shooing people away with his hands.

  Ash shook his head angrily at Charley, then strode back on to the stage.

  ‘Hey, you fans are crazy!’ he called out to the whistles and cheers that greeted his return. ‘Next time one of you wants a hug, just ask!’

  This offer sent the crowd into hormonal meltdown and almost lifted the roof with shrieks of delight. With a nod to the band, Ash kicked off the next song and the set resumed.

  The stage wing quickly emptied as the crew returned to their duties. Charley remained where she was, her head hung in shame. She’d screwed up again! How could her judgement be so off? She was acting like a rookie on her first assignment. But she knew what she’d seen: a laser sight tracking Ash’s every move. Her gut instinct had told her to act – if she hadn’t, Ash might now be lying on stage in a pool of his own blood!

  On the other hand, perhaps it had just been a harmless trick of the light, a reflected beam from the show or some other stage effect. Whatever, the threat had come to nothing.

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ said Big T, his tone surprisingly sympathetic.

  ‘Not this big,’ she replied, unable to meet his eye.

  As the dancers congregated in the wing for another routine, Big T took Charley to one side.

  ‘I don’t doubt you saw a laser, but it’s most likely to have been one of these,’ he said, pulling a small silver pen-sized pointer from his pocket. He pressed a button and a red dot appeared on the floor. ‘These things are banned from concerts, but people still smuggle them in.’

  ‘I’m a complete idiot!’ said Charley, holding her head in her hands. ‘How could I have thought that was a laser gunsight?’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. To the untrained eye, there’s virtually no difference between the two,’ he said, pocketing the laser pen.

  Charley wondered why the old bodyguard was being so understanding about her monumental mistake. She’d disrupted Ash’s first night of the tour, potentially blown her cover as his secret bodyguard and made enemies of virtually everyone on the crew.

  ‘Did you know I was once Stevie Wonder’s personal bodyguard?’ revealed Big T. ‘Didn’t last long, though. On my second night, I was guiding him up a podium, didn’t spot a loose cable and he tripped. Fell flat on his face. Even in my early days as a bouncer I never managed to put someone down so quickly.’

  Charley looked up into his heavily worn features. ‘That must have been awkward.’

  ‘Yeah, it was a real bummer,’ Big T admitted. ‘After that, I was guarding the toilets for the rest of the tour!’

  Charley let out a heavy sigh. ‘I suppose that’s what I’ll be doing then?’

  ‘No, Jon will be,’ he said with a fierce glare in the direction of the blond-haired bodyguard. ‘He should have been keeping his eye on Ash, not that redhead.’

  ‘So you’re not throwing me off my assignment?’ asked Charley, astonished.

  By way of an answer, Big T showed her the tattoo on his inner forearm: Only the paranoid survive.

  ‘As a bodyguard, this is a useful code to live by. I’d rather you overreact than not react at all,’ he explained. ‘When I started out, there was no training. Just thinking on your feet and learning from your mistakes. And, believe me, I made a truckload. But each mistake taught me something. You see, good judgement only comes from experience – and much of that experience comes from bad judgement. Live and learn, Charley, live and learn!’

  ‘It’s all across the internet,’ said Blake, speaking to Charley on her smartphone the next day.

  Charley groaned. The nightmare wasn’t over for her yet. Backstage the road crew were preparing for Ash’s second night at the arena, everyone giving her odd looks and a wide berth as they went about their business.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Blake continued. ‘The only footage of the incident shows a flash of blonde hair, then you and Ash were gone. It was a textbook-perfect extraction of a Principal.’

  ‘So my cover’s not blown?’ she asked.

  ‘Not by the looks of it. All any photographer got was the back of your head. The story is that a Wildling fan jumped Ash in a fit of starstruck excitement. What spooked you anyway?’

  ‘A laser dot. Thought it was a gunsight,’ she admitted. ‘But I was wrong. In fact, everything seems to be going wrong on this assignment. First the press conference, then the security guard and now this –’

  ‘Whoa, hang on! What guard?’ interrupted Blake.

  Sighing, Charley explained the incident that had occurred when she’d tried to gain access to the venue.

  ‘You headbutted a security guard!’ laughed Blake. ‘You’re out of control!’

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied flatly. ‘That’s what everyone here thinks too. And after last night I’ve ruined any chance of gaining Ash’s confidence. He now thinks I’m highly strung. A liability. He hasn’t let me anywhere near him all day. How am I supposed to protect him? The only person showing any faith in me is Big T.’

  ‘Best person to have on your side.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Charley, pacing the corridor outside Ash’s dressing room. ‘I’ve been learning a lot from him about celebrity protection. He really knows his stuff.’

  ‘He should do,’ said Blake. ‘He’s been in the game long enough. And that’s what you have to remember. This may be your sixth assignment – more than any other Buddyguard recruit – but that’s nothing compared to his experience. Hang on in there, Charley. I’m sure as the tour goes on, things will calm down. Just keep your head and do the best you can. I’ve faith in you too.’

  ‘Thanks, Blake,’ she replied, feeling better with his support.

  ‘I’m missing you, by the way.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m miss–’

  ‘Charley!’ called out a gruff voice.

  Covering her mobile with a hand, she turned to see Big T’s bulky frame heading down the corridor towards her. ‘You need to hear this,’ he said.

  Blake’s muffled voice sounded from the mobile’s speaker. ‘Charley, are you still there?’

  She took her hand away and put the speaker to her ear. ‘I’ll call you back.’

  Ending the call, she slipped the phone into her pocket. Her mouth had gone dry and her chest tightened at Big T’s approach. She feared that he’d reassessed her actions in the cold light of day – and the conclusion wasn’t good.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  Big T scratched at the stubble on his c
hin. ‘I’ve just heard from the venue manager that the corporate box being renovated was broken into last night. Also, the fire exit nearby had been jammed open.’

  Charley’s jaw went slack. ‘You mean … I was right, after all?’

  Big T gave a non-committal shrug. ‘We’ve no proof of a shooter, but there was certainly an intruder. Whatever, I’m taking no chances tonight. There’ll be guards patrolling the boxes. Terry’s been updated and it’s gone a long way to easing his concerns about you. I’ve informed Ms Gibson too.’

  ‘Thanks. What about Ash?’

  ‘I’ll tell him after tonight’s show. Best let him focus on his performance rather than worry about getting shot or not.’ As Big T strode off, he patted her on the back with one of his meaty hands. ‘Good work, Charley.’

  Charley allowed herself a smile. Her gut reaction hadn’t failed her. There had been a threat to Ash’s life. While it wasn’t good news for Ash, it did mean her actions on stage were justified. The tension she’d felt in her chest subsided.

  Pulling her phone from her pocket, she went to dial Blake’s number when the door to Ash’s dressing room burst open and his bassist rushed out. His eyes were wide with panic.

  ‘Charley, come quick!’ he cried, seizing her by the arm.

  They ran into the dressing room. The other members of the band were crowded round Ash, who lay on the floor not moving.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Charley demanded, hurrying to his side.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied the bassist. ‘He simply collapsed.’

  The drummer knelt beside Ash’s prone body. ‘He’s not breathing!’

  ‘Move back, everyone,’ instructed Charley, trying to get a grip on the situation. Dr ABC flashed through her head. There was no apparent danger. The floor was clear and Ash wasn’t touching anything electrical.

  She knelt down next to his head. ‘Ash? Are you all right?’