Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(28)
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 school team. She holds the fastest time for the four hundred metres. So, Connor, you’ll be thankful for all those early-morning runs.’
Connor and Marc exchanged sideways glances and smirked at one another. Marc had found a short cut on Alpha team’s running route, knocking a good couple of miles off the training. Connor now wished he’d done the full circuit. He was going to suffer for it if he had to keep up with his Principal.
Charley clicked to a new slide titled ‘Medical History’.
‘Known medical issues include mild hay fever and a history of childhood epilepsy.’
‘Does that mean she might have a fit?’ asked Connor, concerned.
Charley gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘According to the doctor’s reports, her epilepsy seems to have stopped naturally in the last year or so. But it’s still something to be aware of. Factors like emotional stress, sleep deprivation and flashing lights have the potential to trigger a seizure.’
‘I’ve put some information on epilepsy in the operation folder,’ Ling interrupted, handing Connor a small USB drive. ‘There’s an action-on sheet explaining how to handle a seizure.’
‘Thanks,’ replied Connor, plugging the drive into his laptop.
‘The files are all encrypted,’ she explained, ‘and accessed by fingerprint recognition.’ She indicated the thumb-sized scanner built into the body of his laptop. ‘I’ve already programmed it to accept yours. There are also files on Washington DC, Montarose School, the White House staff you’ll meet and a hot list identifying the potential threats she faces.’
‘It’s a long list,’ said Jason, yawning widely. ‘I should know. I was working on it right through the night.’
‘Perhaps then you’ll give Connor a summary of the key groups that pose a risk,’ suggested Charley.
‘Sure,’ he replied, getting up from his seat and joining her at the front. He took a deep breath and offered Connor a pitying look. ‘Well, the leader of the free world certainly has some enemies and Alicia, as his daughter, faces the same dangers. The problems in Yemen, Afghanistan and Pakistan mean that fundamentalists are a major threat. Al-Qaeda and the Taliban are just two of the extremist groups who have the United States and its President in their sights. But it’s unlikely they’ll target our Principal directly, since their usual methods of attack are bombings, sabotage and scare tactics. Then closer to home, but no less fanatical, are the white supremacists, who dislike having a Latino man as a President. They’re a real and present danger. Next, we’ve got the potential for stalkers and lone-wolf assassins – these are almost impossible to identify before they strike and you’ll have to rely on Secret Service intelligence. And, finally, there are the mentally ill, who according to the Secret Service, account for three-quarters of known threats made against the President and his family.’
Jason put on a cheery smile for Connor, whose expression had dropped at the seemingly endless list of threats.
‘So to put it simply, mate, the world’s your enemy.’
‘Here’s your Go-bag,’ said Amir, dumping a sleek charcoal-coloured backpack on the table. ‘It contains all you need to run this operation effectively.’
He pulled out a super-slim mobile from the front pocket.
‘Next-generation smartphone,’ he said, admiring its sleek elegant form. ‘Bugsy enhanced this specifically for your assignment. First, fingerprint identification to protect access.’ He pressed his thumb to the screen, the phone came to life and Buddyguard’s gleaming winged shield rotated in 3D on the retina display. ‘I’m currently programmed in as well as you. But the operating system is firewalled and any critical breach of it will wipe the hard drive. But don’t worry – all stored data is wirelessly backed up to our servers.’
His index finger selected an app in the top corner. A crystal-clear bird’s-eye view of the Welsh mountains appeared, a small green dot pulsing inside a building that Connor recognized as Buddyguard Headquarters.
‘Advanced Mapping app, accurate to the metre with pinpoint GPS,’ explained Amir. ‘In addition, all the Washington maps are preloaded, plus internal layouts for key buildings such as the White House – at least, those we’ve got access to – the National Air and Space Museum and the Kennedy Center. Whatever happens, you won’t get lost. Nor will your Principal.’
He passed Connor a stylish red Armani-branded phone case with a butterfly logo.
‘Thanks, but it’s a bit girly for me,’ said Connor, handing it back.
‘The case isn’t for you,’ Amir replied. ‘It’s your gift to Alicia and contains a miniature homing beacon. The encoded signal is linked to this Tracker app.’ He touched a green target icon on the smartphone’s screen. The map reappeared, now overlaid with a grid and a flashing red dot beside the blue. ‘It’ll locate the case anywhere within fifteen kilometres and calculate the quickest route from your position. Bugsy recommends to keep this feature secret – it’s for emergency use only.’