Bodyguard: Target (19 page)

Bracing herself for the impact, Charley
wished she’d been strapped in by a seat belt. Her only thought was how ironic
it would be if, after all the danger she’d faced on assignments, she died
in a
coach crash.

The barrier came rushing towards them.
At the last second, the driver wrenched the wheel hard and steered the bus away from
its fatal course. Glancing off the barrier with a screech of metal on metal, the bus
swung the other way and careered across four lanes of traffic towards the opposite
barrier.

Wrestling with the wheel and working the
accelerator
and brake, the driver fought to regain control. Despite his efforts, the
edge drew ever nearer.

Behind her, Charley heard the other tour
members screaming. A passing car was knocked spinning across the lanes. The jolt of
the impact was felt through the entire bus, sending people to the floor like
skittles. Yet still the coach headed towards the drop.

No longer was the Ford
Pitt Bridge a
welcoming sight. With a crunching of gears, a squeal of brakes and a grating
of metal, the bus rocked to an unsteady halt, teetering next
to the edge. Below, Charley could see the cold grey waters that would have been
their grave.

By some miracle the driver had managed
to stop the bus just in time. Sweat patches staining his white shirt, he let out a
shuddering
breath and switched off the engine.

‘Everyone OK?’ asked Big T,
hauling himself to his feet.

Charley nodded. She was shaken up but
otherwise unhurt. The bassist came staggering down the stairs with Jessie and the
drummer, while the others picked themselves up from the floor.

Ash emerged bleary-eyed from his bunk
and yawned. ‘Are we here already?’

Oblivious to their
almost-fatal
accident, his question prompted a burst of nervous laughter from everyone on board.
‘Not quite,’ replied his drummer. ‘Looks like we might have a bit
of a walk ahead.’

‘Walk?’ said Ash. Then he
noticed the slight tilt to the tour bus and saw the waters of the Monongahela River
outside the window. ‘Hey, did we crash?’

‘No, of course not,’ said
the bassist,
his tone sarcastic. ‘The driver just thought he’d do an
emergency stop on the edge of a bridge!’

Clambering off the bus, Charley joined
Big T and the driver to inspect the damage. Her legs were a little shaky. She
couldn’t believe they’d all escaped the crash with their lives. A few
more metres and they would have plunged over the side. The coach’s front
grille was heavily
dented
from the collision with the car and
the right-hand side was scraped down to the metal.

‘Looks like we had a
blowout,’ said the driver, pointing to the nearside front tyre. All that was
left was a shredded mess of rubber.

‘One of your rear tyres blew as
well,’ noted Big T. ‘Surely that’s not normal?’

‘Can happen. Once one tyre goes,
the others have to bear
the load,’ the driver replied, hunkering down to
examine the wheel rims. ‘We’ll have to call a tow truck. This bus
ain’t going nowhere.’

The flash of a camera caught
Charley’s attention. Gonzo was at the roadside, capturing the accident scene
as Ash stepped off the wrecked bus. His lens then focused on the shunted car as the
dazed passengers climbed out.

‘Hope you’ve
got insurance,
Ash!’ called Gonzo, snapping away. ‘Think you might have a personal
injury lawsuit on your hands.’

‘How the hell did Gonzo get here
so fast?’ exclaimed Charley.

Big T narrowed his eyes at the
shutterbug. ‘Must’ve been following us.’

In the distance the sound of police
sirens could be heard.

‘Let’s get Ash out of
here,’ said Big T, ‘before
this accident scene turns into a publicity
nightmare.’

Expecting a large tour bus, the horde of
Ash Wild fans barely gave the yellow taxi a second glance as it pulled up outside
the Pittsburgh Hilton Hotel. Then their idol stepped from the vehicle
and all hell
broke loose. Fans swooped on him with deafening and delighted screams. Instantly he
was surrounded and being barraged with requests for photos, autographs and
kisses.

Ash dutifully signed and posed as Big T
tried to keep the crowd at bay and steer him towards the hotel’s reception.
Charley remained close to Ash, blending in as one of the fans. She was still
tense
from the coach crash, but this served to heighten her senses, helping her to stay
sharp for danger.

She scanned the faces surrounding them,
looking for any person who appeared unusually nervous, shifty or out of place. But
the fans were so hysterical that it was impossible to tell if anyone posed an actual
threat – they
all
looked dangerous.

One girl had her hand
deep inside a bag,
her eyes glued to Ash. Since most of the crowd were reaching out to the
rock star, this girl’s behaviour seemed odd to Charley.
Wondering what she was concealing, Charley positioned herself beside the
blonde-haired girl. She couldn’t see into the bag and tensed in readiness to
react at the slightest threat.

As Ash approached, the suspect pulled
out …
a stuffed teddy bear, with a red heart clasped between its paws.

‘Ash! This is for you!’ she
cried, thrusting the toy at her idol.

Accustomed to being showered with gifts
by his fans, Ash accepted the bear with good grace and thanked the girl. Charley
resumed her surveillance of the crowd. With the teddy bear tucked under his arm, Ash
moved on to the next fan. Taking a
souvenir concert programme from a brown-haired
lad, he scribbled his signature across the front.

‘What’s your name?’
Ash asked, to personalize the cover.

‘Don’t you remember
me?’ said the fan with a mild look of disappointment.

Ash glanced up and did a double-take. So
did Charley. There was a distinct familiarity
and
similarity.
Charley’s alert level shot up.

‘It’s me, Pete!’ said
the boy, smiling. ‘Your “twin”?’

‘You look different … or
should I say the
same
,’ remarked Ash.

‘Yeah! After what you said, I dyed
my hair the same colour as yours,’ he explained, running a hand through his
matching hairstyle. ‘I also got my ear pierced and contact lenses to match
your eyes.’

He stared
unblinking at Ash so he could show
off his dark hazel lenses. The effect was
disturbing – like a reflection in a mirror taking on a life of its own. The
two boys were practically identical.

Charley instinctively moved in to shield
Ash from his self-styled doppelgänger. Other fans noticed the similarity too
and began taking photos.

‘I’m flattered,’ said
Ash as he handed back the signed programme. Then
he indicated his left forearm.
‘You only need my phoenix tattoo now to complete the look.’

Big T moved Ash on and through the
revolving doors into the hotel.

‘Didn’t you find that lad a
bit creepy?’ Charley asked Ash as they entered the relative calm of the
hotel’s lobby.

Ash shrugged. ‘That’s fan
devotion for you.’

‘But he’s followed you from
New York.
Surely that’s odd?’

‘Not really,’ he replied.
‘On any tour I see loads of the same faces.’

‘But your
own
?’
questioned Charley.

‘Ash, darling! Are you OK?’
cried Zoe, rushing across the lobby towards them. ‘I heard about the crash.
Sounds awful.’

‘To be honest, I slept through
it,’ he replied.

‘Well, let me take that for
you.’ She indicated the teddy
bear under his arm. ‘I’ll put it
with the rest of the gifts in your room. Now I’ve a full schedule of
interviews lined up. They’ll probably ask about the crash, so I’d better
brief you …’

As Zoe led Ash
away, Charley went to follow, but Big T called her back, indicating for Rick and
Vince, two other members of his security team, to keep guard.

‘My orders are to stick
with
Ash,’ objected Charley.

‘He’ll be fine for the
moment. First, we need to security-check his room.’

Crossing the hotel lobby, they entered
the lift and the old bodyguard thumbed the button for the fourth floor. As the lift
slowly ascended, Big T explained, ‘Hotels throw up a whole host of security
issues. First and foremost, we don’t have exclusive use. Which means
anyone
can enter. The hotel doormen will keep the majority of fans out. But with so many
entrances and exits, any determined individual can find their way in. And some fans
will even book themselves into the hotel. So stay alert for possible
intruders.’

‘Like that copycat fan?’
said Charley. ‘Should we be worried about him?’

Big T raised an eyebrow. ‘Granted
he’s
a bit weird, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I’ve
witnessed far more obsessive fan behaviour in my time. Once a girl turned up to a
concert in a wedding dress, hoping Ash would marry her!’ He shook his head in
wonder. ‘However, I agree we should keep an eye on the boy. There’s a
fine line between devotion and stalking.’

The doors to the lift pinged open and
they stepped
out.

‘Good. Ash’s room is at the
end of the corridor.’

‘Why’s that good?’
asked Charley.

‘Because anyone approaching his
suite needs to have a
reason to do so,’ he explained.
‘If there are rooms beyond, then guests can walk past and this undermines our
security.’

As they made their way along the
corridor, Big T pointed out a red fire-exit sign. ‘In every
hotel we stay in,
always locate the two nearest fire exits,’ he instructed. ‘Count the
doorways, note corridors and any furniture in between, and commit the route to
memory. If there’s a fire and the corridor’s choked with smoke,
you’ll thank me for it.’

Inserting a key card, Big T opened the
door to Ash’s suite. A luxurious cream-carpeted room spread out before them.
There was a walnut desk, coffee table and L-shaped sofa. Through a second doorway
lay a king-size bed, widescreen TV and en suite bathroom. Big T went into the
bathroom, checked the shower cubicle, then opened all the wardrobes.

‘What are you looking for?’
asked Charley.

‘Groupies,’ he said, getting
on his knees and peering under the bed.

‘Seriously?’ asked
Charley.

‘Along with hidden bugs, cameras
and any other sort of surveillance device.’ Big T took out a small black box
from his jacket pocket. The palm-sized unit had two antennae and an LED indicator.
Switching it on, he held the device over the telephone on the bedside table.

‘Bug detector,’ he
explained. ‘Know how to use one?’

Charley nodded. ‘Our surveillance
tutor Bugsy
showed us a whole bunch of them.’

‘Good.’ He tossed her the
unit. ‘Scan the rest of the room while I finish off the physical
search.’

‘Is this
necessary every time?’ she asked as she slowly swept the device over the
pictures, the plug sockets, the lights and every other fixture and fitting in the
room.

Big T nodded. ‘Remember,
we’re not only protecting Ash’s
physical safety – we’re
protecting his privacy too. In my time as a bodyguard, I’ve come across bugged
pens, phone chargers, you name it. I’ve found fans hiding in closets,
paparazzi impersonating cleaning staff, pranksters doing dares. Believe me,
I’ve seen it all!’

‘
Please
tell me that was
my last interview,’ said Ash, slumping back in his chair as Big T closed the
door on the departing reporter.

Zoe smiled. ‘Yes, that was your
last interview
… for today at least.’

‘Thank goodness.’ Ash rubbed
his eyes with the palms of his hands. ‘My brain’s fried.’

Charley wasn’t surprised. Ash had
slogged through ten interviews back-to-back, each reporter asking a variation of the
same questions and Ash having to respond to each as if for the first time. A few
brought up the ‘Only Raining’ court case with the songwriter Brandon
Mills, but most grilled him about the coach crash earlier that morning. Ash’s
responses were carefully prepared and guided by Zoe to avoid any statements that
could be misinterpreted or taken out of context. Charley was now seeing the reality
of a superstar’s life. There was a lot of hard graft behind the success and a
lot of media traps to avoid.

Getting up from his chair,
Ash went over
to the window. ‘I need to get out. Go for a run or something.’

‘The hotel
has excellent gym facilities,’ said Zoe helpfully.

‘No, I need fresh air. I’ve
been cooped up far too long.’

Big T coughed. ‘Ash, have you seen
the crowd outside?’

Ash slid the balcony door open and
stepped out. Instantly an ear-blasting chorus of screams erupted from the
street
below. Ash gave a quick wave to his fans, causing another torrent of delighted
shrieks, before coming back inside.

‘Yep,’ he said with a smirk.
‘Looks like we’ll have to sneak out the back.’

Big T regretfully shook his head.
‘There are fans camped there too. Why not use the gym as Zoe
suggested?’

‘But I
have
to get out of
here!’ cried Ash in a surprisingly
childish tantrum. He strode through to his
bedroom, opened his suitcase and rummaged around for his trainers and sports
kit.

‘I’m not employed to tell
you what you can and can’t do,’ said Big T calmly. ‘But I’d
advise against it.’

Ash kicked off his shoes. ‘I
can’t be a prisoner of my own fans.’

Big T let out a heavy sigh like a steam
train coming to a stop.
‘If you must go for a run, keep a low profile.
Otherwise your jog will end up looking like the London marathon!’

‘We could leave through the
loading bay,’ suggested Charley, recalling the hotel’s layout from the
operation folder that José and David had compiled. ‘It leads on to a side
street – unlikely any fans would be there.’

‘And I’ll wear my hoodie and
sunglasses,’
said Ash, heading into the bathroom to change.

‘Fine,’
relented Big T. ‘But Rick and Vince will accompany you.’ He radioed for
the two security guards.

‘Aren’t you coming?’
asked Ash in a teasing tone.

‘I’m a tank, not a sports
car,’ Big T replied with good humour. ‘I’ll leave the jogging to
the younger pups.’

‘I’ll go too,’
volunteered Charley.

‘As
long as you can keep
up,’ called Ash.

Charley held her tongue, reminding
herself that action would speak louder than words. She hurried to her room, almost
as eager as Ash to escape the confines of the hotel. Touring wasn’t exactly a
healthy lifestyle and she missed her daily runs in the Welsh mountains. She quickly
slipped into her running gear and was already waiting
outside Ash’s door when
he emerged.

‘Right, let’s go,’
said Ash as Rick and Vince joined them in the corridor.

To avoid detection, the four of them
headed down the stairwell to ground level, then worked their way through the
kitchens to the loading bay. They got a few stares from the hotel staff but were
otherwise unopposed.

‘You were right!’ said Ash
as they
walked down the ramp and on to the side street. ‘No fans at
all.’

But no sooner had he said this than a
figure leapt out from behind a dumpster. He was armed with a rapid-fire SLR camera
and began to reel off shot after shot.

‘Trying to sneak out unseen, are
we?’ said Gonzo, his ratty face triumphant at another exclusive photo.
‘Running from an accident? That’s a criminal
act.’

Ash kept his hoodie up and his head
down. Rick
stepped between the camera lens and Ash. ‘Give
it a rest, Gonzo.’

‘We’ve all got to make a
living,’ snapped Gonzo. Scuttling ahead to secure a clear shot, he noticed
Charley. ‘So, are you two lovebirds eloping or what?’

‘Beat it, Gonzo,’ said
Vince, breaking into a jog with Ash up the street.

‘Hey, my name’s
Gomez!’ he spat irritably.

Vince waved him off. ‘Whatever,
Gonzo.’

Gonzo now targeted his camera on
Charley. ‘What’s your name,
chica
?’

Charley kept a fixed smile on her face
and didn’t reply, at the same time wondering,
How the hell did he know
when and where we’d be coming out?
It was like he had a homing beacon
on Ash.

‘Not letting your new boyfriend
out of your sight, eh?’ he continued. ‘I wouldn’t trust him
either. Not after how he treated Hanna.’

Charley knew the pap guy was trying to
bait her, but she had to quash any rumours before they got out of hand and drew too
much attention to her. ‘For the record, I’m
not
his
girlfriend.’

‘Then … what are you?’
panted Gonzo, struggling to keep up with the group.

‘PR,’ replied Charley, and
she raced on.

‘And I’m Santa Claus!’
he called after her.

Leaving the creep behind, the four
runners reached the main road and headed away from the hotel. Charley looked back
over her shoulder and saw the horde of fans gathered
outside
the entrance, still believing their idol was inside. Gonzo emerged from the side
street a moment later,
puffing and panting. He took a few last photos as they jogged
on. Then, leaning against a wall, he lit a cigarette.

‘So, where are we going?’
Vince asked, running a little ahead of Ash.

‘Wherever,’ he replied.
‘Just as long as I get some headspace.’

Charley glanced at the map on her
smartphone, strapped to her upper arm. ‘Schenley Park is four blocks up, if
you
like trail running.’

‘Sounds good.’ Ash flicked
back his hoodie and picked up the pace.

They pounded along the pavement, four
anonymous runners. But to the trained eye there was a definite formation –
Vince a little ahead on Ash’s left, Charley on his right and Rick a few paces
behind to his left. The subtle positioning provided all-round protection while still
remaining
low profile.

Ash jogged steadily, only slowing at
intersections. No one took much notice of them and they were almost at the park
entrance when Vince glanced back to check on Ash, then went down suddenly, hitting
the pavement hard.