Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(41)
Nothing happened apparently.
There was no bang. No sound of a bullet or projectile hitting the limo. Just a tiny mechanical click and a frisson in the air, like just before a bolt of lightning is about to strike.
The driver floored the accelerator. But the limo failed to respond.
Unseen by the human eye, an intense electromagnetic pulse had been unleashed. Channelling through the metalwork of each car, the massive energy surge fried all the internal circuitry. Both engines died. Power-assisted steering failed. So did the headlights, along with every other electronic system that the handheld EMP weapon had knocked out – including radios and mobile phones. In an instant, the two armour-plated limos were rendered useless hunks of metal. Without power or control, they simply hit the kerb and juddered to a halt.
A second later, several armed men, their faces concealed by bandanas, broke from the cover of the side alleys. Keeping their weapons trained on the two immobile limos, they surrounded their targets and closed in.
Realizing they were sitting ducks, the agents jumped out of their vehicles to engage with the enemy. But snipers on the nearby roofs took each of them down before a single shot was fired in retaliation, their muffled long-range rifles sounding no louder than a whisper to ensure the ambush wasn’t heard in the adjacent streets.
In fact, the entire attack was executed in sinister silence.
Inside the front limo, the remaining occupants were cocooned within the armoured box of the passenger section. No way in – but no way out for them either.
Kedar rushed forward and crouched beside the rear door. Pulling out a circular metal device from his backpack, he fixed it to the reinforced glass window.
‘Keep clear!’ he warned, sheltering behind the limo’s bumper. Then he pressed a button.
A high-pitched whirring quickly built in intensity. Just as the sound reached the limit of human hearing, the sonic charge shattered the bulletproof glass. Chunks, like cracked ice, fell to the ground. As soon as the security of the limo was breached, Kedar was at the window with his gun.
‘Out!’ he growled.
Malik’s face appeared, a crooked smile on his lips. He checked his watch.
‘Not bad, Kedar,’ he said. ‘The technology works. But your team needs to shave off another eight seconds.’
He opened the limo door and looked around the disused industrial estate. The downed “agents” were getting to their feet, rubbing their chests where their bulletproof vests had taken the impact of the snipers’ “simunition” rounds.
‘Drill your men again,’ Malik ordered. ‘This ambush has only a sixty-second window of opportunity. I intend to seize it.’
Connor collapsed on his bed in the White House guest room. His head aching, he closed his eyes for a moment, while he waited for his laptop to boot up. Maybe it was jet lag or the strain of his first day on protection detail, or a combination of both, but he felt utterly drained. Colonel Black had insisted that Code Yellow became easier with practice. Connor seriously hoped that was the case, otherwise he’d likely burn out from exhaustion in the coming weeks.
He picked up his father’s key fob from the bedside table. He’d overlaid the photo of himself with his father’s, cut from the picture Colonel Black had given him. Squeezing the talisman in his hand, he wondered how his father could have done this job day in, day out. While the training had been tough, Connor had never expected actual close protection to be so demanding – and nothing had really happened apart from going to school. But there was always an underlying pressure that came with the responsibility of protecting someone. He may be the last ring in the Secret Service’s defence, but if any attacker did get through he would be the one held accountable for Alicia’s life … or death. And that weighed heavily on his mind.
His laptop buzzed and the Buddyguard logo flashed on the screen. Unlocking the device with his fingerprint, he clicked the Answer button. Charley’s smiling face appeared. She looked fresh and vibrant, despite the time being 1 a.m. in the UK.
‘Catch you sleeping, did we?’ she teased, seeing Connor rub the tiredness from his eyes.
‘Almost,’ he admitted, yawning.
‘Don’t worry, your body will adjust to the time zone in a couple of days. When I was on assignment, it took me at least a week to get used to the new routine. How’s your Principal?’
‘Fine,’ replied Connor. ‘Alicia obviously dislikes having the Secret Service everywhere, but there’s no sign of that impulsive streak you mentioned.’
‘Once she gets to know you, she may open up a bit more and show her true colours,’ said Charley.
Marc leant into the camera’s view.
‘Is she as –’ he raised his eyebrows meaningfully – ‘as she looks in the photos?’
Connor couldn’t help smiling at Marc’s off-assignment question. If he was honest, he’d been concentrating so much on protecting his Principal that he hadn’t considered that aspect since their first meeting. He couldn’t deny Alicia was very pretty. And in different circumstances he may have paid her looks a lot more attention. But that sort of thinking could become a dangerous distraction. Colonel Black had very clearly stated that a buddyguard’s role was to protect. Any involvement beyond friendship was a line never to be crossed when on assignment. It could cloud one’s judgement and potentially endanger the protectee. Nonetheless, Connor grinned and nodded in reply to Marc.