Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(35)
Two paces behind on her right followed the first Secret Service agent. As soon as she was safely inside the limo and the door closed, the agent jumped into the front passenger seat and the driver pulled away. The escort vehicle quickly moved forward, collected the other agents and sped after them: 14:55.
The whole embarkation process from door to car had taken less than sixty seconds. Hazim realized the window of opportunity was very small. Possibly too small. But that was for his Uncle Malik to decide.
Hazim’s eyes followed the lead limo as it pulled out of the school drive and turned left on to Wisconsin Avenue. The two vehicles merged with the Washington traffic: 14:56.
Hazim didn’t make any attempt to pursue them. He simply thumbed a coded text on his mobile:
Eagle Chick flying south.
A few moments later his phone pinged in reply, a message flashing on the screen.
Gamekeeper has the eyeball on
Eagle Chick.
Alicia sat on the leather chair, kicking her heels against the soft beige carpet of the President’s outer office. She absently surfed the internet on her smartphone, then sent several text messages to her school friends. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she sighed with boredom.
From behind her neatly arranged desk, Mrs Holland, the President’s secretary, offered an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sure your father won’t be much longer, Alicia.’
‘You tell me that every time,’ Alicia replied, though not unkindly. Mrs Holland, while fiercely loyal to the President and protective of his schedule, had become almost a surrogate grandmother to her within the confines of the White House.
‘And I’m never wrong, am I?’ said Mrs Holland, peering over her steel-rimmed glasses, as the door to the Oval Office opened and a tall woman with long dark-blonde hair stepped out. She was dressed in a sleek blue business suit and carried a wafer-thin touchscreen computer. Alicia recognized her as Karen Wright, the newly appointed Director of National Intelligence and her father’s principal advisor on all matters related to the security of the United States.
‘Thank you for the update, Karen,’ said President Mendez, appearing in the doorway. ‘Keep me informed of any developments.’
‘Of course, Mr President, you’ll be the first to know,’ replied Karen. Turning to leave, she smiled warmly at Alicia. ‘Hello, Alicia.’
‘Hi, Karen,’ she replied as the director disappeared down the corridor.
President Mendez now faced his daughter. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, honey.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it,’ Alicia replied, picking up her school bag and following her father inside.
Feeling a twinge of parental guilt, President Mendez put an arm round his daughter and kissed the top of her head. ‘But this is the meeting I look forward to the most every day,’ he insisted.
Alicia’s lips tightened as she bit back the urge to say, Is that all I am to you … a meeting?
They sat down together on the sofa. Alicia both enjoyed and hated these moments with her father in equal measure. She understood he was extremely busy as President and appreciated that he always made time for her in his hectic schedule. Yet their ‘meetings’ were all too short and often felt like a duty rather than a relaxed personal moment between father and daughter.
‘How was school?’ President Mendez asked. ‘Has your protection team backed off?’
‘I suppose so,’ she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘They still hang around at breaks, though.’
‘Well, that’s their job,’ he replied, his tone firm yet sympathetic. ‘Did you have dance class today?’
Alicia nodded. ‘Yeah, we’re learning how to salsa.’
President Mendez smiled warmly as a fond memory washed over him. ‘Your mother’s a great salsa dancer. It’s a shame she’s not here to teach you a few moves.’
Alicia glanced up at him hopefully. ‘When’s she getting back?’
‘Still at the end of the month, I’m afraid.’
Groaning, Alicia slumped back against the cushions of the sofa. ‘She’s been gone ages.’
‘Hey, believe me, I’m missing her too,’ said President Mendez, pulling his daughter into a hug. ‘But I’ve a surprise to keep you company in the meantime.’
Alicia visibly perked up at this. She’d been begging her parents for a puppy dog for weeks and looked expectantly up at her father.
‘We’ve a special young guest coming to stay for the summer, maybe longer,’ he announced.
The hopeful look on Alicia’s face faded as fast as it had appeared. This wasn’t any puppy dog. Far from it.
‘Not again!’ she exclaimed, recalling the last ‘special guest’ that had visited on an exchange the previous year – a vain and morose girl of some visiting French dignitary. Despite Alicia’s numerous attempts at making friends, the girl had remained aloof and constantly complained about everything from food to fashion to the weather. It had been even more painful to have her in the same class and hanging around with her friends. When the girl had finally returned home, Alicia couldn’t have been happier.
President Mendez gave his daughter a stern look. ‘I’m sure I needn’t remind you, Alicia, of your obligation as the President’s daughter to welcome guests to our country.’