Hostage by Chris Bradford Read Free Book Online Page B

briefing room at 0800 hours. After fitness training.’
    Marc let out a heavy sigh. ‘I hate six
a.m. cross-country runs.’
    Connor raised his eyebrows at this remark.
He didn’t mind running, but he agreed with Marc – not
before
breakfast.
    ‘And I’ve still a threat report
to complete!’ Amir complained, stabbing his chicken with a fork.
    ‘Best get on with it then,’
suggested Charley, offering little sympathy.
    ‘I warn you, Connor,’ said Marc,
picking up his tray to go, ‘Buddyguard is
no
holiday camp.’
    The others stood to leave too. Apart from
Charley. She rolled back her wheelchair before heading for the door.
    Taken by surprise, Connor couldn’t
help but stare.
    Amir noticed his eyes following
Charley’s exit and whispered, ‘She was injured on an assignment.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘I don’t know the details. And
Charley prefers not to talk about it.’
    That evening Connor didn’t feel like
unpacking. He lay on his bed, listening to the wind whistling outside. His thoughts
turned to Charley and the shock of seeing her confined to a wheelchair. The reality of
what he’d agreed to hit home. Being a bodyguard was no game. The risks were real.
Dangerously real
.

‘Do you understand what I’ve
tasked you with?’ questioned Malik, sitting cross-legged beneath the shade of an
olive tree in his courtyard garden on the outskirts of Sana’a. Laid out on a cloth
before the leader was a large bowl of
saltah
stew, a plate of
aseed
dried fish with cheese, boiled rice,
malooga
flatbread and a pot of black
tea.
    Hazim nodded. ‘I’m honoured to
be entrusted so.’
    Malik smiled the thin grin of a snake.
‘You’ve been chosen, Hazim, because of your rather unique position. No one
among the Brotherhood can get as close to the President’s daughter as you. But
nothing can be left to chance. Our planning must be meticulous and our methods
discreet.’
    ‘I understand.’
    ‘You must tell no one of your true
purpose. Especially your family.’
    ‘I won’t,’ assured Hazim,
‘although
you’re
family, Uncle.’
    Malik barked a desert-dry laugh. ‘And
that’s why I trust you, Hazim. You’re like a son to me.’
    Hazim beamed with pride. ‘You’ve
always shown mefavour, Uncle. It was you who encouraged my studies at
the mosque in the first place. And that’s why I won’t let you
down.’
    ‘I trust not,’ said Malik, all
traces of humour vanishing from his face. ‘The role you play will be vital. And
you’ll be provided with all the surveillance resources and back-up you need. Bahir
is to be responsible for communications and technology, and Kedar for managing our
defensive requirements. Now, do you have any questions?’
    Malik paused to take a sip of black tea from
a small china cup, giving Hazim the opportunity to speak.
    ‘You say money’s no
object,’ began Hazim, ‘yet how can the Brotherhood fund an operation like
this?’
    ‘You need not concern yourself with
that,’ said Malik, his tone hardening. ‘It doesn’t matter what it
costs when the prize is so great.’
    Selecting a piece of flatbread from the
plate, Malik scooped up a helping of
saltah
and shovelled the meat stew into
his mouth. He chewed slowly as he studied Hazim. ‘All that’s important is
you’re willing to do what’s necessary for the purpose of achieving our
goal.’
    His coal-black eyes bored into Hazim’s
as he searched for the slightest evidence of doubt, any flicker of cowardice.
    Hazim held Malik’s stare.
‘I’m well aware of the dangers, Uncle. And I’m resolved to my
calling.’
    Malik grinned in satisfaction, licking the
stew from his yellow-stained teeth. ‘Excellent.’

‘Bodyguards are the modern-day samurai
warriors,’ declared Colonel Black, clicking up an image of a Japanese swordsman on
the overhead projector. ‘Like these ancient warriors, the bodyguard’s duty
is to protect their Principal above all else.’
    Connor sat with Alpha team in the briefing
room, a windowless chamber at