their
stations in the briefing room. Alpha team had run through operational planning
situations in training on countless occasions. But this time there was an urgency to
their actions. This time it was for real.
Connor hardly slept all night.
What
reason could one of the most powerful leaders in the world have for selecting me to
protect his daughter?
His martial arts skills couldn’t be
the only justification. Jason was an equal match to him – in fact, Connor had learnt
that his rival had once been the Australian Junior Champion. There had to be another
reason. But Connor couldn’t think what it was. Aside from his twelve weeks of
training, he had no real-world experience of being a buddyguard and this deeply worried
him. Connor wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity and that the President
actually believed he was choosing
someone else
.
But the colonel assured him that
there’d been no mistake. He was to work alongside the US Secret Service, the
Homeland Security department responsible for the protection of the First Family. He
would be reporting direct to its head, Dirk Moran, while maintaining a line of
communication with Buddyguard in the UK in case he needed additional support. His
mission was to ensure the safety of the President’s daughter at all times,
particularlythose instances when Secret Service agents couldn’t
be immediately at hand. The threat level for the operation was deemed to be
‘Category 1 Life-Threatening’.
Connor’s mind whirled with the
possibilities – angry mobs, long-range snipers, knife-wielding assassins, exploding car
bombs … the danger list went on and on. And
he
was to be the hidden shield
between those threats and the life of the President’s daughter. The sheer scale of
the task ahead was almost paralysing. He wondered if his father had ever felt like this
before any of his assignments. Or did a seasoned bodyguard get used to the pressure?
Perhaps it was like a constant trickle of electricity running through their veins, so
they felt, yet suppressed, their fears.
And Connor’s greatest fear was that he
would fail. That at the moment of an attack he would react too late – or, worse still,
not react at all.
At 9:00, Connor, bleary-eyed and groggy from
lack of sleep, joined Alpha team in the briefing room. They looked equally shattered
from their late-night research.
‘As you know, your Principal is Alicia
Rosa Mendez,’ said Charley, beginning her presentation as soon as Connor was
seated. She clicked a remote to display the photo of a young girl on the overhead
screen. ‘Fourteen years old of Mexican-American descent, she is the only daughter
of Emilia and Antonio Mendez, the current President of the United States.’
Connor studied the photo. Alicia had
chocolate-brown eyes, a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile and a mass of dark
curly hair that fell past her shoulders. She looked like any other young teenager. It
was hard to imagine her as a target for assassins and kidnappers. But that’s
exactly what she was.
‘According to my research and press
reports, Alicia is fun-loving, headstrong and possesses an impulsive streak. She has
slipped her Secret Service protection on several occasions. And, as I understand from
the colonel, that is the main reason the President has requested a
buddyguard.’
Colonel Black nodded in confirmation.
‘It’s your job, Connor, to stick to her like glue.’
Connor briefly wondered how he’d
manage that without becoming an annoying hanger-on.
‘Alicia attends Montarose School in
Washington DC where you’re now enrolled on a student exchange programme for the
last two weeks of term,’ Charley explained. ‘Her grades are good, if not
outstanding. Favourite subjects appear to be art, photography and dance. She’s
generally fit –’
‘Most definitely,’ said Marc
with a rakish grin.
‘I mean healthy,’ corrected
Charley, shooting him evils. ‘Alicia enjoys track and field, and is the captain of
the
stations in the briefing room. Alpha team had run through operational planning
situations in training on countless occasions. But this time there was an urgency to
their actions. This time it was for real.
Connor hardly slept all night.
What
reason could one of the most powerful leaders in the world have for selecting me to
protect his daughter?
His martial arts skills couldn’t be
the only justification. Jason was an equal match to him – in fact, Connor had learnt
that his rival had once been the Australian Junior Champion. There had to be another
reason. But Connor couldn’t think what it was. Aside from his twelve weeks of
training, he had no real-world experience of being a buddyguard and this deeply worried
him. Connor wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity and that the President
actually believed he was choosing
someone else
.
But the colonel assured him that
there’d been no mistake. He was to work alongside the US Secret Service, the
Homeland Security department responsible for the protection of the First Family. He
would be reporting direct to its head, Dirk Moran, while maintaining a line of
communication with Buddyguard in the UK in case he needed additional support. His
mission was to ensure the safety of the President’s daughter at all times,
particularlythose instances when Secret Service agents couldn’t
be immediately at hand. The threat level for the operation was deemed to be
‘Category 1 Life-Threatening’.
Connor’s mind whirled with the
possibilities – angry mobs, long-range snipers, knife-wielding assassins, exploding car
bombs … the danger list went on and on. And
he
was to be the hidden shield
between those threats and the life of the President’s daughter. The sheer scale of
the task ahead was almost paralysing. He wondered if his father had ever felt like this
before any of his assignments. Or did a seasoned bodyguard get used to the pressure?
Perhaps it was like a constant trickle of electricity running through their veins, so
they felt, yet suppressed, their fears.
And Connor’s greatest fear was that he
would fail. That at the moment of an attack he would react too late – or, worse still,
not react at all.
At 9:00, Connor, bleary-eyed and groggy from
lack of sleep, joined Alpha team in the briefing room. They looked equally shattered
from their late-night research.
‘As you know, your Principal is Alicia
Rosa Mendez,’ said Charley, beginning her presentation as soon as Connor was
seated. She clicked a remote to display the photo of a young girl on the overhead
screen. ‘Fourteen years old of Mexican-American descent, she is the only daughter
of Emilia and Antonio Mendez, the current President of the United States.’
Connor studied the photo. Alicia had
chocolate-brown eyes, a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile and a mass of dark
curly hair that fell past her shoulders. She looked like any other young teenager. It
was hard to imagine her as a target for assassins and kidnappers. But that’s
exactly what she was.
‘According to my research and press
reports, Alicia is fun-loving, headstrong and possesses an impulsive streak. She has
slipped her Secret Service protection on several occasions. And, as I understand from
the colonel, that is the main reason the President has requested a
buddyguard.’
Colonel Black nodded in confirmation.
‘It’s your job, Connor, to stick to her like glue.’
Connor briefly wondered how he’d
manage that without becoming an annoying hanger-on.
‘Alicia attends Montarose School in
Washington DC where you’re now enrolled on a student exchange programme for the
last two weeks of term,’ Charley explained. ‘Her grades are good, if not
outstanding. Favourite subjects appear to be art, photography and dance. She’s
generally fit –’
‘Most definitely,’ said Marc
with a rakish grin.
‘I mean healthy,’ corrected
Charley, shooting him evils. ‘Alicia enjoys track and field, and is the captain of
the
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