Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(39)



As the bell went for lunch, after the first three periods of history, Mandarin Chinese and maths, Connor was glad to be able to concentrate on just one role – that of being a buddyguard.

Alicia and her friends collected their bags and headed for the refectory with Connor in tow. As they wandered down the corridor, Connor kept a careful eye out for potential threats. Although it was tempting to relax – since they were within the relatively safe confines of a private school – Colonel Black had reinforced in him during training that ‘assumption is the mother of all screw-ups’. A bodyguard could never assume that an area was totally safe or an individual not a threat. Vigilance was required at all times. This meant that while the Secret Service would have vetted any people in direct contact with Alicia there was always a chance one shark could slip through the net. This could be a teacher, an office clerk, one of the catering staff, the cleaners, the groundsmen, a delivery driver or even a fellow student. Everyone was a suspect.

But the threat need not be an assassination. As Alicia’s buddyguard, Connor was to protect her from all forms of harm – from everyday bullying to a simple accident. So although he didn’t expect there’d be any potential assassins among the students, if Montarose School was anything like his own in East London, there’d certainly be a bonehead or two.

As if on cue, two lads strolled up to their group as they waited in line for food. One was well-built with dark wavy hair, a square jaw and a confident swagger. He looked like a young Clark Kent who’d forgotten to put on his glasses and was still Superman. His friend was bigger – a bulldozer of a boy with a short crew cut and size twelve Converse trainers.

‘Hey, Alicia!’ drawled Superman. ‘What’s up?’

‘Hi, Ethan,’ she replied, smiling coyly as her friends gathered to one side to give them space.

‘Ethan, this is Connor from England,’ introduced Alicia.

The boy gave a brief nod in Connor’s direction. ‘Right!’

Then he turned his attention back to Alicia before Connor had a chance to reply.

‘So, what you doing at the weekend?’ he asked.

Alicia glanced sideways at her giggling schoolmates. ‘My father’s asked me to take Connor to the National Mall on Saturday. Fancy joining us?’

‘Nah, it’s just a bunch of old museums and monuments,’ snorted Ethan. ‘Anyway, I’ve got baseball practice.’

‘Ethan’s the top hitter for the school team,’ Grace whispered to Connor, handing him a dinner tray. ‘He’s also the school star quarterback.’

Connor nodded. Judging by the boy’s attitude, he certainly thought himself a star.

‘Are you going to the Summer Prom?’ Ethan asked casually.

‘Maybe,’ replied Alicia, twirling a lock of her dark hair round her finger. ‘Depends who’s asking.’

‘I am.’

Alicia pursed her lips. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Think about it?’ exclaimed Ethan, his stunned expression suggesting he never expected ‘no’ from a girl – even the President’s daughter. ‘It’s only two weeks away.’

‘Yeah, but I need the Secret Service to check you out first. Got to confirm you’re no “threat”,’ she said, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

‘But I’m a senator’s son!’ he replied, clearly not getting Alicia’s joke. He walked off in a huff, muttering, ‘Well, don’t take too long about it.’

The girls regrouped round Alicia.

‘I don’t believe you!’ said Paige, her blue eyes wide. ‘Ethan asked you to the Prom and you didn’t say  yes.’

‘He’s got to work a bit harder than that,’ replied Alicia.

‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, eh?’ sniggered Grace.

‘No, the guy needs some style first. He needs to impress me. I mean, he asked me in the lunch queue, for goodness’ sake!’

As the girls stood gossiping, Connor became aware of someone staring intently at Alicia through the glass pane of a door marked  NO ADMITTANCE. He couldn’t make out the man’s features clearly, since the glass was obscured. But the man’s eyes were magnified by it and his attention was definitely fixed on Alicia.

Connor’s awareness shot up one level to Code Orange. As he evaluated the potential threat, the man noticed Connor looking in his direction, and suddenly disappeared.

‘What’s behind that door?’ Connor asked Kalila.

‘Just the kitchens,’ she replied, helping herself to a Caesar salad from the food bar.

‘We’ll sit over there, Connor,’ Alicia called, pointing to a table by the window.

‘Right behind you,’ Connor replied, quickly selecting a sandwich and a soft drink. He hurried over to ensure he got a seat beside Alicia. He allowed his alert level to drop to Code Yellow again. But for her safety he wanted the best position to view the refectory and NO  ADMITTANCE door – just in case the watcher made a second appearance.





During his afternoon lessons of English and geography, Connor pondered the face at the glass. If not for his bodyguard training, he doubted he’d have noticed the man in the first place. There was no real reason to suspect anything more than a curious member of the catering staff. The face never reappeared and could simply have been a chef checking the length of the dinner queue, or a new kitchen hand who’d had his first sighting of the President’s daughter. But something about the intensity of the stare unsettled Connor. Perhaps it was the way the eyes were magnified by the rippled glass, or the fact that the gaze was directed at Alicia alone and nobody else.

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