Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2) (9 page)

Connor and Ling entered the logistic supply room to find Amir already there. He stood behind the desk with an eager look on his face as if Christmas had come early.

‘I’ve been waiting all morning to hand over your Go-bags,’ he said.

Unable to contain his excitement any longer, Amir produced two black and fluorescent-yellow backpacks and laid them with due ceremony on the table. ‘I’ve customized them specifically for Operation Gemini.’

‘Well, no one’s going to lose these in a hurry!’ remarked Ling, eyeing the lurid yellow dubiously.

‘That’s the point,’ said Amir. ‘Ultra-reflective strips on the front and shoulder straps for maximum visibility at sea. A high-powered LED beacon for emergencies.’ Amir indicated a tiny plastic dome beside the top grab handle. ‘And these bags even have a mini-SART sewn into the lining!’

Amir looked up expectantly, waiting for them to share in his enthusiasm. Connor and Ling exchanged bemused glances. Amir rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t you two know anything? SART? Search-and-rescue transponder.’ He pointed to a slightly fatter right-hand seam with an activation tag. ‘The slim tube inside contains a small, battery-powered receiver and transmitter that operates on the 9-GHz frequency.’

‘You’ve still lost us, I’m afraid,’ admitted Connor.

‘That frequency, 9 GHz, is the frequency … of X-band radar … on a ship,’ Amir said slowly, as if explaining to two nursery kids. ‘If you get into difficulties at sea, the transponder sends out a locating signal. Usually these gizmos are on life rafts and about the size of a two-litre water bottle. Bugsy, however, has managed to miniaturize it. The downside is the battery only has an eight-hour lifespan and its range is less than five nautical miles. Still, it could make all the difference in a search-and-rescue operation.’

Amir unclipped the top section of the backpack and began to unroll the opening.

‘No zips mean no leakage,’ he said, justifying the unusual roll-top design. ‘This means the Go-bags are one hundred per cent waterproof and fully submersible. As long as you aren’t carrying rocks, they’ll even float!’

Amir patted the Go-bags proudly as if they were his favoured pets.

‘Do they have a foldout liquid body-armour panel like before?’ Connor asked.

Amir’s expression fell a little. ‘Unfortunately not,’ he admitted. ‘We couldn’t fit an additional panel inside. But the back section itself
is
bulletproof.’

‘That’s good,’ said Connor. He didn’t wish to dampen Amir’s spirits, but the foldout panel had been a key factor in saving his and his Principal’s life during his first mission. A single panel, while still useful, would barely cover him, let alone his Principal.

Amir reached into the bags and produced a pair of mobile phones enclosed in bright orange neoprene covers.

‘Your smartphones, upgraded to the newest operating system and virus-protection software.’ He arched an eyebrow in Connor’s direction. ‘No danger of Cell-Finity bugs this time.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Connor as he weighed the phone in his hand and examined the unusual cover. ‘A bit bulky, isn’t it?’

‘It was a trade-off,’ said Amir, shrugging apologetically. ‘We’ve waterproofed the phone with a spray-on microlayer, but to produce a buoyant cover we had to compromise on size.’

‘I suppose it’s better than losing it at the bottom of the sea,’ said Ling cheerily.

Connor pressed his thumb to the screen, triggering the fingerprint security system. He examined the display of apps:
Advanced Mapping, Tracker, Face Recognition, Mission Status, Threat Level, SOS
 … ‘I’m glad to see your SOS app is still on here.’

‘Of course,’ Amir beamed. ‘Version two. Improved battery life. Also, it allows for short message transfer as well as location data.’

Amir dug out the rest of the Go-bag’s contents.

‘You’ll have all your usual gear: med-kits, earpieces with built-in mic for covert communication with one another, prepaid credit cards –’

‘Now that’s more like it,’ grinned Ling, snatching up a card. ‘Shopping time!’

‘You’ll need expert surveillance skills to find a shop in the middle of the Indian Ocean,’ laughed Amir.

‘You forget airport duty-free,’ Ling replied with a devious wink, nudging Connor with her elbow.

Amir handed them a pile of clothes each. ‘Here’s your Buddyguard-issue gear: baseball cap, shorts, T-shirts, polo-shirt … all fire-retardant, stab-proof and, of course, bulletproof,’ he said, looking up at Connor.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be wearing these,’ said Connor, holding up and inspecting the pocketed blue polo-shirt. It still amazed him that such soft thin fabric could stop a bullet from a handgun or the sharpened steel point of a knife.

‘Is there a bulletproof bikini for me?’ asked Ling.

Amir searched through her pile of clothes. ‘Err, no, sorry.’

A smirk appeared on Ling’s lips. ‘I was only joking.’

Amir reddened as it dawned on him how ridiculous such an item would be. ‘Oh, very funny.’ He pulled a slim black torch from the Go-bag. ‘By the way, Bugsy’s supplied you with a new torch.’

Amir depressed the button and a glaringly bright green laser strobe flashed out.

‘Hey, watch it!’ exclaimed Ling, shielding her eyes. ‘You almost blinded me.’

‘That’s kinda the aim of it,’ said Amir, grinning like a Cheshire cat at his retaliation. ‘It’s a Dazzler.’

‘A what?’

‘A non-lethal weapon that temporarily blinds or disorientates your enemy.’

‘Seems pretty lethal to me,’ said Ling as she blinked away tears.

‘Well, it won’t kill anyone, and it works as a standard torch too,’ Amir explained, putting the Dazzler back in the bag. ‘Anyway, at the other end of the spectrum, so to speak, are your sunglasses.’

‘It’s all right, I still have mine from the last mission,’ said Connor.

‘Not like these you don’t,’ replied Amir, excitedly handing them each a pair. ‘Put them on.’

As Connor and Ling slipped on the shades, Amir closed the blinds and switched off the room’s light, plunging them into darkness.

‘Hey, I can’t see a thing!’ Ling exclaimed.

‘Flick the switch on the right edge of the frame.’

Finding the tiny switch with his fingernail, Connor gasped in awe as Amir and Ling reappeared before his eyes in a shimmering silver light. ‘Now these are cool!’

‘Night-vision sunglasses,’ explained Amir, enjoying the looks of astonishment on his friends’ faces. ‘Cutting-edge nanotechnology in the lens allows you to see in the dark as if there’s a full moon. There’s a smart layer of nano-photonic film that converts infrared light to visible. Unlike standard night-vision goggles that only amplify visible
light, these have the advantage of not being vulnerable to flaring when confronted with a bright light.’

Amir switched on the main light to prove his point. Connor could still see perfectly well, even if the room before him appeared over-exposed. He flicked off the night-vision mode and everything returned to normal.

‘What else is in your bag of tricks?’ asked Ling, now caught up in the thrill of such advanced gadgets at their disposal.

‘Well, there’s this,’ said Amir, handing Ling a large white bottle.

‘What is it?’ she asked eagerly. ‘A miniature life raft? A smoke grenade?’

‘No, but it will protect you from the greatest danger you face on your mission.’

Ling looked expectantly at him. ‘So, what is it?’

Amir was barely able to suppress his grin. ‘It’s sunscreen.’

‘What’s going on in maths? You’ve got Bs and Cs in your other subjects, but an
E
for maths.’

Connor groaned down the phone. ‘
Mum
 … I’ve had a few other things on my mind recently.’

‘Like what?’

Connor didn’t know how to answer that. His mum had no idea he was training and operating as a professional bodyguard. She’d been told that he was attending a boarding school for gifted and talented sports students, the cost sponsored by a special government scholarship scheme. That’s why his mum only received a report card for the standard subjects. His appraisals in the other topics, ranging from world affairs to unarmed combat to anti-ambush training, went direct to Colonel Black.

‘It’s difficult to explain,’ he admitted.

‘Oh …’ she said, a knowing tone entering her voice. ‘You mean, a girl?’

Connor shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other and felt a flush fire his cheeks at his mum’s line of questioning. ‘No, nothing like that,’ he protested.

‘Listen, you can’t let girls distract you from your work,’ said his mum, ignoring his protest and thinking she knew better. ‘They’ll cause you enough trouble when you’re older.’

Connor could think of two girls – Emily and Chloe – who
might
cause him trouble a lot sooner than that.

‘Can we talk about something else?’ he urged. ‘Like you. How are you doing, Mum?’

‘Oh, really well, thanks,’ she replied cheerily. ‘Improving day by day with Sally’s help.’

Connor listened as his mum told him how her live-in carer had encouraged her to take vitamin D and do some light yoga exercises. This, along with a recent course of acupuncture, had really helped to ease her symptoms. However, all the while his mum talked, Connor could tell from the strain in her voice that she was putting on a brave front. As a sufferer of multiple sclerosis, his mum had difficulty with coordination and balance, was easily fatigued, and was often struck with numbness or grinding pain.

Her condition, along with his ageing gran’s needs, had been the primary reason for Connor agreeing to join Buddyguard. In return for his service, Colonel Black had offered a complete care package for his mum and gran. Such health support was way beyond the financial reach of an unemployed army widow like his mother. And, at the time of the offer, his family was already struggling with basic day-to-day living costs. The colonel’s deal was a virtual godsend. But as part of the deal Connor couldn’t reveal to her his true role. The highly secretive Buddyguard
organization relied on the fact that few people knew of its existence, allowing teenagers like Connor to act as invisible defence shields for vulnerable and high-profile targets. Besides, his mother would probably be furious if she discovered he was following in his father’s footsteps – a path that might easily lead him to an early grave too. He didn’t like deceiving her about it one bit, but he
did
like seeing her cared for properly. It was a trade-off and one worth making.

‘I’m really glad to hear things are improving,’ said Connor, despite his deeper concerns for her. ‘Listen, I’m calling to let you know that I’ll be away on a sailing trip next month, so I might be out of contact for a bit.’

During term time, Connor religiously rang home every week to check on his mum and gran, and he knew they both eagerly awaited his calls.

‘A
sailing
trip! You certainly lead an exciting life at this new school of yours,’ remarked his mum. Connor heard her relay the news to his gran and Sally before returning to the phone. ‘One thing, son, please take extra care. I don’t want you injuring yourself like last time.’

‘I will,’ said Connor, hoping the same himself. His mum had been led to believe that he’d hurt his leg falling off a mountain bike, the pretence necessary to keep his involvement in Buddyguard confidential.

‘Hold on, love, Sally’s calling me, but your gran wants a word. Speak again when you get back.’

There was a clatter as the phone changed hands. ‘How’s my big man?’

‘Fine, Gran. And you?’

‘As fit as a fiddle and as right as rain,’ she replied brightly.

Connor laughed; that was what she always said.

His gran lowered her voice. ‘I know she won’t have told you, but your mum may have to go into a wheelchair soon.’

‘What?’ said Connor, stunned. ‘She said she was getting better.’

‘In some respects she is, and she doesn’t want to worry you. Sally has just recommended that your mum uses one when she goes out. She’s not as steady on her feet as she was.’

‘But Mum was fine when I saw you both last month.’

His gran sighed. ‘She had a relapse last weekend.’

Connor fell silent. This cruel disease was slowly stripping his mum of her quality of life. Every time he called or visited, it seemed like another little piece of her had been taken away. And there was nothing he, or anyone else, could do about it. He balled his hand into a fist and screwed his eyes shut, holding back the tears that threatened to come.

‘As you would expect, she’s not particularly happy about the idea,’ continued his gran, ‘but Sally says your “scholarship scheme” will cover the cost of the chair.’

Connor managed a sad smile. He might not be able to stop his mother’s deterioration, but at least he could provide the necessary care for her – as well as for his gran. His work as a buddyguard meant they would be in safe hands, even if he was putting himself in harm’s way and spending a lot less time with them both. He now understood his father’s dilemma when he’d been alive.

‘Are
you
all right, my dear?’ asked his gran gently.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, wiping a sleeve across his reddened eyes.

‘I hear you’re going on a sailing trip,’ she asked, switching topics. ‘Anywhere nice?’

Connor realized her question was loaded. ‘The Seychelles.’

‘Ooh, lovely,’ she cooed. ‘Anything else you can tell me about your “trip”?’

‘Not really …’ replied Connor, aware that he was breaking security protocol just by telling her his destination.

Charley appeared round the corner and gave him the nod.

‘Sorry, Gran, I have to go,’ said Connor. ‘Give Mum my love and I’ll see you both soon.’

‘Is that a promise?’

Connor momentarily hesitated. His gran’s question was no mere platitude but a wish for a binding agreement. ‘Of course, Gran.’

‘Good. Then stay safe, my dear … stay safe.’

Connor could hear the anxious crack in his gran’s voice as she ended the call.

He hated putting his gran through such worry and often wondered whether he should ever have told her about Buddyguard in the first place. But his gran would have seen through his half-truths like a priest in a confessional. She was too sharp and had lived too long to be fooled by anyone, let alone her grandson. Besides, Connor trusted her and needed her. She was his rock and, when life got tough, the one person he could always turn to for advice.

‘Everything OK at home?’ asked Charley.

Connor looked up, suddenly aware he’d been staring off into space. ‘Yeah … my gran’s fine. But my mum may have to go into a wheelchair. She isn’t looking forward to it.’

‘I know the feeling,’ said Charley, patting the armrest of her chair. ‘If your mum ever needs someone to talk to, then I’d be happy to give her a call.’

Connor smiled warmly at Charley’s kindness. ‘Thanks, I’ll let her know.’

‘Come on,’ said Charley, pivoting on the spot. ‘The car’s waiting to take you to the airport.’

Connor followed Charley out to the black Range Rover parked on the long sweeping drive of Buddyguard Headquarters. The rest of Alpha team had assembled on the steps to see him and Ling off. Jody was in the driver’s seat, checking the satnav for traffic, while Ling sat in the back, seat belt on, ready to go.

‘Hurry up, partner!’ she shouted, slapping the seat next to her. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’

As Connor flung his bags into the boot, Amir shouted, ‘Careful! That’s my Go-bag you’re chucking about.’

‘It’s mine now,’ replied Connor with a grin. ‘But I promise to look after it.’

‘You’d better,’ warned Amir, shaking his head in despair at the mishandling of his precious equipment.

‘Good luck,’ called Marc, waving. Beside him, Richie offered a mock salute.

‘Don’t let Connor take all the glory, Ling,’ said Jason as Connor clambered in beside her.

Ling blew him a kiss. ‘Don’t worry. He’s carrying my bags!’

With a final thumbs up to his teammates, Connor went to close the door, but Charley reached in and touched his arm.

‘Try not to catch any bullets this time,’ she said.

Connor gave her a quizzical look. ‘Surely that’s the point of a bodyguard?’

Charley locked eyes with him. ‘
Only
if all else fails.’