Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(24)
Jason prodded the sausages and slapped on a couple more burgers.
‘These should be done in a minute,’ he announced, swigging from a can of Coke.
Ling lay on her beach towel, soaking up the sun’s rays. ‘Did you keep my veggie kebabs separate?’
‘Of course,’ said Jason, quickly shuffling Ling’s food to one side and sharing a guilty grin with Connor and Marc. Now that training was over, the rivalry between them had relaxed a little. Although their relationship was still fractious, Connor had come to realize Jason wasn’t a bad lad in himself. Just neither of them wanted to be second best.
For Connor, the past twelve weeks had flown by and he now felt a completely different person. When a geography lesson was paired with survival in hostage situations, a physics class with fire training, and cross-country running with anti-ambush drills, the mix was mind-blowing. It was as if he now wore special lenses that identified every threat surrounding him on a daily basis. Connor no longer classed this as ‘paranoia’ – he was simply aware of the world, living in Code Yellow. When he walked down a busy street, passers-by seemed to be in a perpetual, and worrying, state of half-sleep. Did they notice the security camera above the shopping centre entrance recording them? Did they have a clue where the fire exit was in an emergency? Had any of them spotted the suspicious individual hanging near the cash point? As a direct result of his training, Connor instinctively picked up on these details. And though he was alert to more danger he paradoxically felt safer, since he was now prepared to deal with any trouble that might occur.
Connor wondered if his mum or gran would notice the difference in him when he returned to London for the summer holidays. Despite the intensity of the training, he’d managed to call home every week. His mother always sounded upbeat and eager to hear news of his progress, although he could tell by the edge in her voice that she was often in a great deal of pain. He had to gloss over the details of his bodyguard training, but she was pleased he was learning new subjects as well as continuing his martial arts. His gran seemed happy too, and particularly glad he was paying attention to his ‘other’ studies. Sally was proving a great help around the house and she’d taken them to local garden parks and on day trips out of London, something the two of them never could have managed before. Any doubts Connor had about joining Buddyguard were dispelled each time he heard about the care they were receiving. Whatever the commitment in becoming a bodyguard, the sacrifice was worthwhile.
Connor watched a surfer catch a wave and ride it all the way in.
‘So could you do it?’ asked Amir.
‘Surf like that?’ said Connor. ‘No chance.’
‘I mean …’ Amir dug his foot into the sand ‘… take a bullet for someone else?’
Connor glanced at his friend. Ever since their body-cover lesson, the spectre of being a ‘bullet-catcher’ had hung over them. No one really talked about it, but Connor had thought long and hard over the matter. Was this a risk he was willing to take? Had his father made such a sacrifice? He’d never been told the full story. And, if his father had, did he have the guts to throw himself in the line of fire?
‘Perhaps,’ replied Connor. ‘If I cared enough about the person.’
‘But as a buddyguard you won’t know the person at first,’ said Marc.
‘And worse – you might not even like them!’ added Jason, flipping a burger and glancing in Connor’s direction.
Ling pulled out her headphones. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, Amir. Jody says such a situation rarely happens.’
‘Rarely doesn’t mean never,’ replied Amir. ‘And who’s to say another person’s life is worth more than mine?’
‘I suppose it’s about standing up for what is right,’ said Connor. ‘The strong protecting the weak.’
‘That’s easier said than done,’ Ling pointed out. ‘And Charley should know.’
Charley had rolled down the beach to the point where the last gush of the waves fingered the shore. The sea rushed around her wheels and her feet were lost in the swirling white waters.
‘Is Charley all right down there?’ asked Connor.
Ling glanced from beneath her shades and nodded. ‘She likes to get close. Reminds her of her competition days.’
Connor thought back to their unarmed combat scenario. ‘So Charley actually was a pro-surfer?’
Jason laughed. ‘Do koalas live in trees? Charley was awesome! Youngest Quiksilver Champion ever.’
Connor looked at Charley, constrained by her wheelchair. He could only imagine the frustration she was experiencing at being unable to surf – if he couldn’t practise martial arts, he’d go mad. ‘I’ll go tell her that food’s ready.’
Grabbing a drink from the cool box, he wandered down to the shoreline.
‘I thought you might like a Diet Coke?’ he said, offering Charley the ice-cold can.
She accepted it and offered him a brief smile.
‘There’s a good swell today,’ she said wistfully. ‘Nothing like LA, but the breaks are clean and long.’
Connor nodded as if he knew what she was talking about. He wished he had more knowledge of surfer speak. The icy cold sea washed up his legs, soaking his shorts, and he jumped back.
Charley didn’t move. ‘I just love the feel of the waves. Their power. The overwhelming rush as the surf seizes you. Nothing in the world compares to riding a wave.’