Bodyguard: Ambush (Book 3)

by Chris Bradford

  ‘It’s not about what we want,’ a man’s voice replied. ‘It’s about what you want.’

  The bag was whipped off Connor’s head. Squinting from the glare of an overhead spotlight, Connor discovered that he was sitting at a long glass table laid for dinner. Disorientated by the unexpected surroundings, it took him a moment to register the people with him.

  ‘Surprise! Happy birthday!’ chorused Alpha team.

  Connor stared open-mouthed at his fellow buddyguards. Charley, Amir, Ling, Jason, Marc and Richie were seated either side of the table. At the opposite end were Colonel Black and his close-protection instructors, Jody, Steve and Bugsy.

  ‘What the …?’ Connor exclaimed. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved, overjoyed or downright furious.

  Colonel Black’s craggy face broke into a rare grin. ‘Glad you could join us.’

  Connor was now lost for words. He’d honestly believed he was doomed to some terrorist prison cell or, worse, a torturous death. Not a fancy restaurant on the borders of the Brecon Beacons in Wales.

  Beaming a smile at him, Charley passed across a menu. ‘So what do you want?’ she asked.

  Connor barely glanced at the menu, still reeling from the shock of their deception.

  ‘You almost wet yourself with fright!’ laughed Ling.

  This remark snapped Connor out of his daze. ‘No, I didn’t! I was still in control.’

  ‘Yeah, about as in control as a turkey at Christmas,’ sniggered Jason.

  ‘Well, I knew I’d been taken in a 4x4 and driven no more than fifteen minutes from HQ. I also worked out there were at least three kidnappers and one of them was a woman.’ He glanced over at Jody, who was dressed in a black leather jacket, her dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

  ‘Really?’ said Jody, unfazed. ‘How so?’

  ‘Your perfume gave you away.’

  She raised an eyebrow in admiration. ‘Then it appears you were keeping a cool head. A good thing for a bodyguard.’

  ‘You’re definitely one slippery fish, Connor,’ admitted Bugsy, the bald-headed surveillance instructor, rubbing his stubbled jaw where Connor’s heel had connected. ‘I’m just glad we managed to restrain you first, otherwise we’d never have got you in the back of the Range Rover.’

  Connor felt some dignity return, knowing that he’d at least proven himself in the situation, even if he hadn’t been able to save himself. And now, with the shock fading, he began to see the funny side.

  ‘Well, it’s one birthday surprise I won’t forget in a hurry! And your little prank has certainly taught me not to fall asleep in the common room again after a night shift,’ he announced with a laugh. Standing, he turned and presented his bound hands. ‘Now will someone please get me out of these zip-ties?’

  Amir rose to help, but the colonel shook his head and waved for him to sit back down.

  Connor’s brow furrowed. ‘But how am I going to open my birthday gifts?’ he asked in a mock plea.

  ‘With difficulty,’ stated Colonel Black flatly. ‘Unless you can free yourself.’

  Connor eyed the colonel, incredulous at the suggestion. ‘You’re kidding me, right? I can’t break these zip-ties. Believe me, I’ve already tried.’ He parted his hands to show the red weals on his wrists as proof of his efforts.

  ‘Then it’s time you learnt how,’ said the colonel. He directed a nod towards Steve, Alpha team’s unarmed combat instructor. At six foot two and built like a tank, the ex-British Special Forces soldier towered over everyone as he got up from his chair. Holding out his sledgehammer hands to Jody, the muscles in his forearms rippling like black waves, he waited while she produced a heavy-duty zip-tie and fastened his wrists together.

  ‘The best way to defeat any type of restraint is to analyse how it works,’ Steve explained. ‘Zip-ties consist of a grooved nylon strip and a ratchet with tiny teeth housed in a small open casing. The weak point, therefore, is the ratchet. So that’s where you have to direct any force.’

  Taking the zip-tie in his teeth, Steve adjusted the locking mechanism so that it was positioned midway between his wrists. Then in one fluid motion he raised his hands above his head and came down hard in an arc on to his torso, chicken-winging his arms at the same time. The zip-tie pinged off like a rubber band. ‘There you go. It’s that easy.’

  ‘C’est facile pour vous,’ said Marc, then switching from French to English, added, ‘You’re built like the Terminator.’

  ‘Yeah, and Connor’s arms are behind his back,’ Amir pointed out.

  Steve shrugged. ‘Same principle applies. Just bend over and bring your hands down against your hips at the same time as pulling your arms apart. Besides, it’s about technique and speed, not strength.’

  Adjusting the zip-tie’s position, then bending over, Connor followed his instructor’s technique. A second later his hands were free. Until that point he’d been pulling and yanking at his restraint when all it needed was a single strike at the right angle. He shook the blood back into his hands. ‘That’s impressive. But what about my ankles?’

  Steve nodded to the dining table. ‘You’ve got a steak knife. What more do you need?’

  ‘But what if you don’t happen to be in a restaurant?’ asked Jason as Connor cut himself loose.

  ‘Then, if you’ve replaced your shoelaces with paracord as I’ve recommended, you can use your laces as a friction saw.’

  Ling jumped up and presented her hands. ‘That looks like fun. Let me have a go.’

  ‘A sucker for punishment?’ Steve grinned, taking a spare zip-tie from Jody and wrapping it round Ling’s wrists.

  ‘Oww! Not that tight,’ Ling squealed as the instructor yanked on the strip.

  ‘The tighter it is, the easier to defeat the locking mechanism,’ Steve replied with zero pity.

  ‘Good luck, skinny!’ called out Jason.

  Ling narrowed her half-moon eyes at him, then raised her hands above her head. Despite her slender physique, she broke apart the zip-tie on her first attempt.

  ‘Who needs muscles, eh?’ she remarked with a ceremonial bow towards Jason.

  ‘My turn now,’ said Amir, springing to his feet.

  This time Steve tied Amir’s hands behind his back. ‘Go for it.’

  Bending over, Amir slammed his arms against his backside. But the zip-tie failed to break. Amir tried again. Still it held.

  ‘Is this the same as the other zip-ties?’ asked Amir.

  Steve nodded.

  ‘Have another go,’ urged Connor. ‘You just need to get the right angle.’

  Amir kept thumping away, but the zip-tie refused to snap. Becoming more and more frustrated with each attempt, Amir waddled round the restaurant’s private dining room, grunting, his arms flapping wildly.

  ‘He’s like a chicken doing a breakdance!’ cracked Richie.

  Everyone at the table collapsed into fits of laughter as Amir stumbled into a chair and fell over.

  Steve glanced across at Colonel Black, unable to suppress a grin. ‘We should make this a regular party game!’

  ‘So whose idea was it to kidnap me?’ asked Connor, eventually cutting Amir’s zip-tie for him.

  ‘Mine,’ said Jason, raising his glass of Coke in salute.

  Connor should have guessed. It was typical of his Aussie rival’s sense of humour. ‘Couldn’t you have just ordered me a taxi?’

  Jason responded with an arch grin. ‘Wouldn’t have been half as much fun.’

  Amir plonked himself down at the table beside Connor. Studying the menu intently to hide his embarrassment, he whispered, ‘It’s harder than it looks.’

  Connor nodded in sympathy. ‘Let’s just hope you’re not kidnapped with zip-ties on the mission, eh?’

  ‘Yeah, your Principal might actually die from laughter before being rescued!’ chortled Richie.

  Amir sank back in his chair as if his plug had been pulled. His fringe of slick black hair flopped forward, covering his dark brown eyes but not hiding his disma
y. Connor glared at Richie, whose caustic Irish wit had fallen far from the mark this time. Richie shrugged an apology, but it was a little late for that.

  Connor patted his friend on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.’

  ‘That’s all right for you to say,’ muttered Amir. ‘You’ve earned your gold wings.’ He indicated the gleaming badge pinned on Connor’s T-shirt: a winged shield with the silhouette of a bodyguard at its centre. ‘I’m still unproven.’

  Ever since joining Buddyguard the previous year, Connor knew his friend had been desperate for the colonel to select him to lead a mission. Now Amir was just three weeks from his first solo assignment and his nerves were starting to show.

  ‘Don’t you remember how nervous I was before my first assignment?’ said Connor. ‘I barely slept for a week. And I’d only just completed basic training. You’ve the benefit of almost a year of instruction, as well as learning from all my mistakes!’

  Amir managed a strained smile. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier.’

  ‘From my experience, it isn’t ever easy.’

  ‘But what if I fail? Like I just did with the zip-ties. Or I freeze at the moment of an attack?’

  ‘You won’t,’ reassured Connor. ‘Trust me, every bodyguard worries about such things. But, I promise you, your training will kick in. You will react. Besides, I’ll be back at HQ providing you support, instead of the other way round.’

  Amir swallowed hard and nodded. ‘Thanks. It’s good to know you’ll be there for me.’

  ‘OK, birthday boy,’ interrupted Charley, ‘what would you like?’

  Connor turned to Charley, who was sitting next to him. She looked stunning in a glittering silver top, her long blonde hair braided into a golden plait and a touch of make-up highlighting her sky-blue eyes. It took a few seconds for Connor to become aware of the waitress standing behind her, patiently waiting for his order.

  ‘I can come back to you if you need more time,’ said the waitress, smiling.

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ replied Connor, hurriedly scanning the menu and hoping Charley hadn’t noticed him staring at her. He asked for a large steak with extra fries. The adrenalin rush of the fake kidnapping had given him a serious appetite.

  ‘So, are you heading home to see your family?’ Charley asked after placing her own order.

  Connor nodded. ‘The colonel’s given me leave at the end of the month.’

  Charley studied his face, surprised to see a frown. ‘Aren’t you excited to be going?’

  He sighed quietly and, lowering his voice, confessed, ‘Yes, it’s just … I’m worried how my mum will be. Last time she was so weak.’

  Charley’s hand touched his arm. ‘Look, if it would help, I can come with you.’

  Connor hesitated. ‘Thanks, but I don’t want to put you out.’

  ‘It’s not a problem,’ she insisted. ‘Besides, I could do with a change of scene. I’m getting cabin fever at HQ. Californian girls aren’t suited to long winters stuck in Wales.’

  Connor smiled. He had to admit it would be good to have her company on the long train journey. And at least he could satisfy his mother’s curiosity about his friends at his ‘private boarding school’.

  ‘OK, that would be great –’ A large box was thrust between him and Charley.

  ‘Present time!’ Ling announced excitedly.

  Connor dutifully unwrapped the gift and laughed at what was inside.

  ‘To replace the one I broke,’ said Ling with a grin as Connor lifted out the padded headguard. Earlier that month he’d been sparring with Ling and she’d executed a devastating jumping axe-kick on him. The blow had split his old headguard in two, as well as losing him the match.

  ‘I’m just glad you didn’t crack my skull open,’ said Connor, admiring the new full-face guard with shock-suppression gel for maximum protection. ‘That would’ve been a lot harder to replace.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Ling. ‘I saw some footballs about your size. Give me something else to kick!’

  ‘That’s if you’re still standing,’ Connor shot back. With the score even at four bouts each, they both knew their next sparring match would be hard fought. He’d even heard rumours that the instructors were laying down bets on who would win.

  Jason tossed Connor a poorly wrapped gift. ‘Hope it fits.’

  The packaging split open on landing to reveal a garish yellow T-shirt with the picture of a koala with sharpened teeth and the warning BEWARE DROP BEARS! The design was a painful reminder of the time he’d fallen for Jason’s hoax about killer koalas. Holding the T-shirt against himself for size, Connor couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘Is it bulletproof?’ he asked.

  ‘Nah,’ said Jason in his Aussie twang. ‘But it’s guaranteed to repel drop bears!’

  ‘Like the aftershave you wear to repel girls then?’ quipped Richie, causing the others to laugh.

  Jason snarled. ‘Hey, my aftershave works just fine,’ he said, putting an arm round Ling.

  Ling smiled sweetly before elbowing him hard in the ribs.

  Jason doubled over in pain. ‘Oof! Talk about tough love,’ he wheezed.

  While Jason recovered from Ling’s ‘affectionate’ elbow strike, Connor unwrapped his other gifts. Marc had bought him a designer shirt from Paris. Richie had given him the latest Assassin’s Creed game, and last but not least was a joint gift from Amir and Charley.

  ‘I hope you like it,’ said Charley, biting her lower lip anxiously as she handed him a small presentation box. ‘Amir helped choose it.’

  Connor pulled off the lid. Inside was a G-Shock Rangeman watch.

  Amir leant over, eager to show him the watch’s features. ‘It’s solar powered with multi-band 6 atomic timekeeping, auto-LED super illuminator, a triple sensor and digital compass. But, most important for you, it’s waterproof and shock resistant. Engineered to stand up to the most gruelling conditions imaginable. Basically, this is one gadget you won’t be able to break.’

  ‘Thanks, guys … it’s awesome,’ said Connor, slipping the watch on and holding up his wrist for the others to admire it.

  ‘An ideal gift for a bodyguard,’ remarked Colonel Black with a nod of approval. ‘An accurate timepiece is essential on missions. But there’s one final present to go.’

  He slid a set of car keys down the glass table to Connor. Everyone’s jaws dropped open in shock.

  ‘You’re giving him a car!’ exclaimed Jason.

  ‘Driving lessons, to be exact,’ replied Jody. ‘The car is for all Alpha team to use.’

  Connor picked up the keys, staring at them in astonishment. ‘But I’m too young to drive.’

  Colonel Black shook his head. ‘In a dangerous situation, no bodyguard’s too young.’

  ‘The heart of Africa will beat again!’ exclaimed Michel Feruzi. The Burundian Minister for Trade and Tourism thumped the well-worn wooden conference table with a fleshy fist, the glasses of iced water tinkling from his overzealous blow.

  ‘I agree,’ chimed Uzair Mossi, the eyes of the Finance Minister sparkling like the very diamonds they were talking about. ‘Too long has Burundi been the poor man of this rich continent. If the rumours are true, then this is a turning point for our nation, a –’

  President Bagaza held up his hand for silence and waited for his ministers to curb their premature celebrations. He did not share their enthusiasm at the news.

  ‘Angola. Sierra Leone. Liberia. The Congo,’ he stated in his low solemn tone. ‘Do their tragic histories not mean anything to you?’ He let the ghosts of each country’s brutal civil war, fuelled by blood diamonds, settle in the minds of his ministers before continuing. ‘The reported discovery of a diamond field is a reason to both rejoice and despair. After a generation of tribal conflict, our country’s peace is fragile at best. We cannot, must not, let ourselves be dragged back into civil war.’

  The ministers exchanged uneasy looks. Although the bloodshed was over a decade ago, scars still ran de
ep and the tensions between rival Hutu and Tutsi factions bubbled just beneath the surface, even within the government itself.

  ‘The president is right,’ declared Minister Feruzi, his chair creaking as he settled his ample bulk into the seat. ‘We’ve only recently relocated all the Batwa tribes from the expanded Ruvubu National Park. If they learn that there’s a diamond field, they’ll make a claim over their ancestral lands. We cannot allow one minority tribal group to solely benefit. The whole country must prosper from this discovery.’

  ‘That’s if there are diamonds in the first place,’ commented the Minister for Energy and Mines. Adrien Rawasa, a thin man with a shaved head, hollow cheeks and rounded spectacles, stood and tapped a faded out-of-date geological map of Burundi on the whitewashed wall.

  ‘As you’re well aware, Mr President, our mining sector is still in its infancy. We have substantial deposits of nickel, cobalt and copper that can only be exploited with the help of foreign investors. We even have some seams of gold and uranium. But we’re not blessed – or cursed as you may see it – with the same bounty of natural resources as our neighbours. The land within the national park isn’t typical of the geology in which diamonds are found. The rumour might well have started from stones illegally smuggled across the border from the Congo or Rwanda.’

  ‘But is it conceivable there could be diamonds in the park?’ questioned President Bagaza.

  Minister Rawasa sucked at his lower lip as he studied the map. ‘Well … let’s just say it’s not impossible.’

  ‘Then we must tread very carefully. Minister Feruzi, close off the national park and order the rangers to begin a sector-by-sector search. I want confirmation that the diamond field is real before we start raising hopes and making plans. Tell the rangers they’re looking for poachers but to report anything else unusual. The last thing we need is a false diamond rush.’

  ‘Should I delay the French ambassador’s visit?’ asked Minister Feruzi.

  President Bagaza repeatedly clicked the top of his ballpoint pen out of habit, considering the proposal for a moment. ‘No. Not after the millions France has invested in the conservation programme. If we don’t show them progress, they’ll cut off all our international aid. And we can’t afford to lose such funding.’ He gave everyone at the table a meaningful look. ‘In the meantime, this news isn’t to go any further than this room. Understood?’