by Zoe Sharp
I stopped peering into the mirror on my sun visor, trying to watch the cars following us, and turned to face him. His fingers rested apparently lightly on the rim of the steering wheel, but his eyes were a little too fixed on the road ahead.
What could I tell him? That I’d gambled with his safety. That I’d recklessly endangered his secure, comfortable existence and that of my mother. And for what? To help the psychopathic child of an equally psychotic father escape justice. What had I achieved by that?
Heidi’s future, I told myself. My own survival. Suddenly it didn’t seem like a convincing argument.
Finally, I said, “Yes.”
He nodded. “So what are you going to do now?”
“Sean’s offered me a job again,” I said. “This time I think I’m going to take it.”
“What kind of a job?”
“Close protection,” I said. “A bodyguard.”
He glanced across quickly. “Quite apart from my feelings on the subject of Sean Meyer,” he said grimly, “are you sure that’s a wise decision, Charlotte?”
No, I wasn’t. Especially not when I couldn’t shake the feeling that Sean didn’t entirely believe my intent when I’d winged Jan. He knew first-hand just how good a marksman I’d been in the army, but even so he’d still been certain that the shot I’d so carefully calculated to wound and disable had been aimed to kill. What kind of long-term prospects did that leave open to us?
Now I shrugged rather helplessly. “The army didn’t want me,” I said, aware of the tiredness in my voice. “What else am I good for?”
He made no answer and we didn’t speak again until he pulled up onto the gravel outside my parents’ house, forty-five minutes later. I looked up at the ivy-strung walls and measured architecture. I knew that it looked just the same as it had done when I’d left. It must just be me who was different.
I climbed out and moved towards the front door, mentally gearing myself up for a reunion with my mother. I was wondering how to break the news that they were going to have to get a panic alarm installed, when he stopped me.
“There was a delivery for you yesterday,” he said. “Don’t you want to see it?”
Just for a second I tensed with a thousand nasty possibilities before common sense took over. I shrugged again. He eyed my apathy with a moment’s concern, then pressed the button on the Jaguar’s alarm remote which also operated the garage door. It lifted gradually.
Inside, right at the back, was my old RGV Suzuki. Next to it, looking so much bigger by comparison, gleaming like an oiled-up bodybuilder, was a Honda FireBlade on a brand new plate. I walked towards it slowly, feeling the prickle of the hairs rising at the back of my neck.
My father followed me in and was watching my reaction. He reached past me for a manila envelope that was tucked behind the front screen and handed it over.
“It came with this,” he said. “I thought perhaps you ought to be the one who opened it.”
I slit the top flap with my thumb and pulled out a sheaf of papers. The top one was a bill of sale from a London dealer, made out in my name and stamped Paid in Full. Stapled to the top left-hand corner was a piece of plain white card. On it, a flamboyant hand had written just a mobile phone number and the words, “Sometimes you CAN have what you want. Thank you.” It was signed, “Gregor.”
“Who’s Gregor?” my father asked.
I put the papers back into the envelope and looked at the bike. It was gorgeous. I ran my hand over paintwork on the tank that was so smooth and so unblemished it was silky to the touch. There was zero mileage on the clock, and the release agent still shone like skin on the virgin tyres.
“Oh, he’s just someone I did a favour for,” I said softly.
Definitely a promise then, not a threat.
My father looked at me, waiting for me to go on. At last he said, “It must have been some favour.”
“Yes,” I said, and realised that I was smiling. “Yes, it was.”
From the Author’s notebook
This was Charlie Fox’s first brush with the world of close protection, which she would go on to make her own. When I first came up with the idea to send Charlie undercover into a close-protection training school, the book was originally going to be set in a remote part of the English Lake District. Then the school shooting at Dunblane in Scotland in 1996 caused handguns to be widely banned in the UK and I had to look for another location. Most of the actual bodyguard training schools here moved to Europe – mostly France, Holland or Germany. As I knew Germany as a location better than either of the others, the village of Einsbaden and the surrounding area began to form in my head.
I used some old pictures of Wannsee Manor in a suburb of Berlin as my inspiration for Einsbaden Manor. It had the right air of brooding menace about it, and the flat roof of the design also came in very useful during various scenes. The lack of speed limits on the autobahns also became an integral part of the plot, so the story moulded nicely into its location. Being able to set the action in the middle of winter, on a continent as large as Europe gave an added glint of frozen danger.
For the writing of this book it was absolutely necessary to drive at speeds in excess of one-hundred-and-fifty miles an hour on the German roads – erm, purely for research purposes, of course. Just goes to show that this game can be a lot of fun.
One final point. Please note that this story was originally written in 2002 and first published in the UK in 2003, when mobile phones and internet access had not reached the level of sophistication we take for granted today.
Acknowledgements
Many people have let me trawl through their collective experiences in order to put together this book. Former VIP protection officer Brad Blake was one of them, as was Glynn Jones. The people at the Revere Gun Range in Pompano Beach, Florida also helped, but never knew it. I’m still drawing on the lessons learned during self-defence classes with Ian Cottam and Lee Watkin.
Key pieces of German information were provided by Derek Harrison and Armin Mohren. Technical info vital to the plot came from Luke C in Colorado; Tim Enderby and Ike Flack at SAS; and Ian Hill and John Whitehead at Hiteq. Thank you also to Chris Brown at Alpine Electronics (UK) for explaining the finer points of their navigation system. Any factual errors are all my own work.
Once again, many people were kind enough to offer their opinions during the early stages, including Iris, Jean, Sheila, and everyone at the Lune Valley Writers’ Group. The usual pre-publication vivisection was carried out by Peter Doleman, Claire Duplock, Sarah Harrison, Clive Hopwood, Tim Winfield, and copy editor Sarah Abel. Keep on digging, people, and don’t mind me squealing . . .
As always, the biggest thank you goes to my husband, Andy, who has a lot more to put up with than he lets on about.
Grateful appreciation goes to Libby Fischer Hellmann for her help and advice, and generously allowing me to include an excerpt from DOUBLEBACK as a bonus feature at the end of this novel.
Finally, huge thanks to ZACE-eBookConversion for immaculate conversion of the printed book to e-format; and to Jane Hudson at NuDesign for the stunning new covers.
if you’ve enjoyed HARD KNOCKS, why not try Zoë Sharp’s Other Works:
Buy the Books!
the Charlie Fox crime thrillers
KILLER INSTINCT
RIOT ACT
(HARD KNOCKS)
FIRST DROP
Excerpt from FIRST DROP
ROAD KILL
SECOND SHOT
THIRD STRIKE
FOURTH DAY
FIFTH VICTIM – out in e-format Spring 2012
Short stories – eBook exclusive
FOX FIVE: a Charlie Fox short story collection
A Bridge Too Far
Postcards From Another Country
Served Cold
Off Duty
Truth And Lies
KILLER INSTINCT
Charlie Fox book one
by Zoë Sharp
‘Susie Hollins may have been no
great shakes as a karaoke singer, but I didn’t think that was enough reason for anyone to want to kill her.’
Charlie Fox makes a living teaching self-defence to women in a quiet northern English city. It makes best use of the deadly skills she picked up after being kicked out of army Special Forces training for reasons she prefers not to go into. So, when Susie Hollins is found dead hours after she foolishly takes on Charlie at the New Adelphi Club, Charlie knows it’s only a matter of time before the police come calling. What they don’t tell her is that Hollins is the latest victim of a homicidal rapist stalking the local area.
Charlie finds herself drawn closer to the crime when the New Adelphi’s enigmatic owner, Marc Quinn, offers her a job working security at the club. Viewed as an outsider by the existing all-male team, her suspicion that there’s a link between the club and a serial killer doesn’t exactly endear her to anyone. Charlie has always taught her students that it’s better to run than to stand and fight, But, when the killer starts taking a very personal interest, it’s clear he isn’t going to give her that option . . .
‘Charlie looks like a made-for-TV model, with her red hair and motorcycle leathers, but Sharp means business. The bloody bar fights are bloody brilliant, and Charlie’s skills are both formidable and for real.’ Marilyn Stasio, New York Times
‘Sharp deserves a genre all her own – if you are just discovering Zoë Sharp then you are in for a real treat.’ Jon Jordan, Crimespree Magazine
‘Charlotte (Charlie) Fox is one of the most vivid and engaging heroines ever to swagger onto the pages of a book. Where Charlie goes, thrills follow.’ Tess Gerritsen
RIOT ACT
Charlie Fox book two
by Zoë Sharp
“I am a violent man, Miss Fox,” Garton-Jones said, without bravado or inflection. “I can – and will – do whatever is necessary to control this estate. Remember that.”
A self-defence expert with a motorbike and an attitude, Charlie Fox doesn't need to go looking for trouble. It generally finds her. House-sitting for a friend seems like an easy favour at first but the house in question is in the Lavender Gardens estate. Teenage gangs are running riot and Charlie's desperate neighbours have been forced to employ an expensive – and ruthless – security firm to apply rough justice where the legal kind has failed. The situation gets even uglier when a young Asian boy is fatally wounded in what appears to be a racially motivated shooting.
Caught in the middle of an urban battlefield, Charlie's more than able to take care of herself but then she comes face to face with a spectre from her army past. As the tensions rise, lives will depend on Charlie working out just who she can really trust . . .
‘Sharp's first novel, Killer Instinct was a good read, but within the first few pages of Riot Act she surpasses herself. She succeeds in bringing the characters alive and Charlie Fox makes a powerful and attractive heroine. Equally, her other characters work well and she succeeds in creating snappy dialogue and mixing it well with action.
'At times, Riot Act feels slightly reminiscent of Minette Walters' 'Acid Row'. . . (Sharp) takes her Lancashire setting, throws in a great deal of action and creates a fast-paced novel that is guaranteed to build on the reputation created by her debut novel and make her known as an up-and-coming talent in the crime world.' Luke Croll, Murder & Mayhem Book Club
HARD KNOCKS
Charlie Fox book three
by Zoë Sharp
'Perhaps if the army had known what was inside me, what I would eventually turn into, they might not have been so keen to let me go.'
Charlie really didn't care who shot dead her traitorous ex-army comrade Kirk Salter during a bodyguard training course in Germany. But when old flame Sean Meyer asks her to go undercover at Major Gilby's elite school and find out what happened to Kirk she just can't bring herself to refuse.
Keeping her nerve isn't easy when events bring back fears and memories she's worked so hard to forget. It's clear there are secrets at Einsbaden Manor that people are willing to kill to conceal. Some of the students on this particular course seem to have more on their minds than simply learning about close protection. Subjects like revenge, and murder. And what's the connection between the school and the recent spate of vicious kidnappings that have left a trail of bodies halfway across Europe?
To find out what's going on, Charlie must face up to her past and move quickly before she becomes the next casualty. She expected training to be tough, but can she graduate from this school of hard knocks alive?
'If you only know Charlie Fox from First Drop, Second Shot, and Third Strike, you don't know Charlie. What you've got in your hands is a rare and special treat. It’s like finding some lost Jack Reacher novel or a couple of non-alphabet Kinsey Millhones that nobody knew existed. Don't let anyone tear it from your hands without drawing their blood.
'These early Zoë Sharp books haven’t been a secret, but they've been harder-to-get than Charlie Fox in your bed. Think of these as the early years of Charlie Fox – she’s lethal and relentless, but still raw from the military experience that made her the kick-ass, take-no-prisoners bodyguard that she’s become.
'But there’s more going on in these books than breakneck action and adventure. Charlie has heart, maybe too much for a woman in her profession . . . and it’s that caring, that humanity, that makes her much more than a killer babe on a motorbike. These books are your chance to discover Charlie Fox as she discovers herself, her strengths and her weaknesses, and sustains the scars to her body and soul that make her such a unique and compelling character.' US crime author and TV producer, Lee Goldberg
FIRST DROP
Charlie Fox book four
by Zoë Sharp
'The guy in the passenger seat was closest. He got out first, so I shot him first. Two rounds high in the chest.'
It should have been an easy introduction to Charlie Fox's new career as a bodyguard. In fact, it should have been almost a working holiday. She just has to look after the gawky fifteen-year-old son of a rich computer programmer in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Trey Pelzner is theme park mad and in theory all Charlie has to do is baby-sit him on the rollercoasters.
The last thing anyone expected was a determined attempt to snatch the boy, or that Trey's father and their entire close protection team – including Charlie's boss, Sean Meyer – would disappear off the face of the earth at the same time.
Now somebody out there wants the boy badly and they're prepared to kill anyone who gets in their way. Evading them, in a strange country, takes all the skill and courage Charlie possesses.
As she soon discovers, once you've hit the first drop there's no going back, and you'd better hang on tight because you're in for a wild ride.
Nominated for the Barry Award for Best British Crime Novel.
‘Sharp's aim is dead on in her stunning US debut, the fourth book to star ultra-cool biker chick Charlie Fox. The no-nonsense, 26-year-old Charlie, a former British Army soldier (and survivor of a gruesome gang rape) has joined the protection agency of her ex-lover, Sean Meyer. On her first assignment, Charlie finds herself on a too thrilling roller-coaster ride in Florida, guarding geeky 15-year-old Trey Pelzner, son of Keith, a computer whiz working for a small software company specializing in accounting and data manipulation. After an attempt is made on Trey's life, Charlie calls for backup that turns out to be anything but and soon discovers that Keith – the developer of a faulty stock indicator program – has vanished, as has Sean. Action-packed, tightly plotted and with an irresistible first-person narration, this crisp, original thriller should win Sharp (Hard Knocks, etc.) plenty of American fans.’ Publishers Weekly starred review
FIRST DROP
Charlie Fox book four
excerpt
part of Chapter One
. . . The Demon coaster was across the other side of the theme park. Scarlet-painted bits of its twisted superstructure were visible over the tops of the trees as we drew nearer. It looked immense and tangled, with no obvious sens
e of direction. Signs we passed informed us that Demon was newer, higher, and faster than anything we’d ridden so far. I was amazed Trey hadn’t headed straight for it, and said so.
He shrugged. “It’s a steelie,” he said, dismissive.
“A what?”
“A steel coaster, not a wooden one. They’re OK, I s’pose, but woodies rule. They’re, like, awesome.”
I tried not to think about the ride quality of something that didn’t live up to the bone-shaker we’d spent half the morning on.
The queue line for Demon was certainly no shorter. We weaved our way in guided by a maze of stainless steel barriers. If you touched them your hands came away sticky with the sweat from a thousand nervous palms. I’m not sure mine were any drier.
As we moved deeper in we came to a split in the path, manned by a young attendant who only had a couple of years on Trey at most.
“Singles to your left,” he said as we approached.
Trey started to go left. I caught his arm.
“Hang on a moment, what does that mean?”
He tried to shake me loose. “If you go in the singles line it means you get on the ride faster ‘cos they use you to, like, fill up the empty seats.”
“No way,” I muttered, steering him off to the right. “We’d rather go on together, thanks,” I told the attendant, who shrugged and pointed us wordlessly in the other direction, his attention already lost.