Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(65)
‘How long will that take?’ asked Connor.
‘He reckons at least an hour.’
‘I’ve a feeling that might be too late.’
‘Look, I’ll call you as soon as we make any progress. And remember: we don’t know for certain if Alicia’s the one being tracked.’
‘That’s not a gamble I’m willing to take,’ replied Connor, hanging up.
Knowing that Dirk Moran would refuse to see him, Connor was on his own until Amir could get proof. In that time, anything could happen to Alicia. He had to warn her.
Opening up his contacts, he dialled Alicia’s number. But his call went straight to voicemail again. He left another message – more urgent this time.
As he considered what his next move should be, a tour group spilt out of the north portico’s doors. Watching them go past and head towards the north-east gate, it dawned on Connor how Alicia might have left the White House undetected.
Alicia stuffed her platinum-blonde wig back into her bag. The sweltering summer’s day made it too hot to wear. But she kept on her Jackie Onassis-style sunglasses. They were large enough to conceal her features so she wouldn’t be immediately recognized.
After leaving the tour group in Lafayette Park, she had darted through a warren of back streets to get more distance between herself and the White House. Now clear of its oppressive shadow, Alicia finally felt able to breathe. She was free of all the surveillance cameras, patrols and restrictions that made her life a virtual prison sentence. She was free of the Secret Service. Free of her father’s control. And free of … Connor.
After discovering he was her buddyguard, she simply couldn’t take it any more. She felt the walls closing in and desperately needed her own space.
Her phone rang. Alicia looked at the screen and saw Connor’s name.
‘Why can’t you just leave me alone?’ she muttered, stabbing the screen with a thumb and rejecting the call.
A moment later her phone buzzed, indicating a voicemail. Alicia ignored it. She didn’t want to hear his voice. It would just make her cry again. She couldn’t comprehend how Connor could betray her like that. Pretending to be her friend, while all the time working for the Secret Service. She wouldn’t be so upset if she didn’t like him so much. But he’d worked his way into her heart and even now she was missing his reassuring presence.
‘No!’ she told herself. ‘He lied to me from the start –’
‘Watch where you’re going!’ snapped a suited businessman as Alicia almost collided into him.
Looking up from her phone, Alicia discovered she was at the banks of the Potomac River. She’d had no real destination in mind when leaving the White House beyond simply escaping. But as she wandered along the towpath Alicia realized that, more than her freedom, she desperately needed a friend to talk to. One she could trust.
Alicia thumbed a text into her phone.
Really need to see you. By river near
Nat Mall. Can you meet me asap? A x
Her phone beeped a few seconds later.
Of course. Jefferson Memorial?
15 mins. K x
Alicia smiled with relief. She could always rely on Kalila.
The phone in Bahir’s hand buzzed. He read the message.
I’ll be waiting on the steps. A x
Bahir turned to face Malik in the passenger seat of their blacked-out vehicle.
‘Eagle Chick has taken the bait.’
‘All according to plan then,’ said Malik. ‘And you’re certain her messages have been blocked?’
Bahir nodded with a self-satisfied grin. ‘Absolutely. My Cell-Finity bug gives us complete control of her phone. We can falsify all text messages. Govern every in-and outbound call. Even if she tries phoning Kalila now, the line will ring as if engaged.’
‘Good work, Bahir,’ said Malik. ‘You certainly excelled in the task I set.’
He looked over at Hazim in the driver’s seat. ‘And well done, Hazim, for planting the bug in the first place.’
Hazim managed an anxious smile as Bahir announced, ‘Target is five minutes out.’
Bahir showed Malik the tablet PC in his lap, where a red dot traced its way slowly across a digital map of Washington towards the Jefferson Memorial.
‘Then it’s time,’ said Malik, licking his lips in anticipation as he took the prepaid cellphone Bahir offered him.
Hazim started the engine and gripped the steering wheel tight. He looked out through the tinted window at the Memorial with its iconic white marble Greek columns, domed roof and wide stone steps that led down to the water’s edge. They had recced the location on several occasions, starting with simple drive-bys to identify perimeter protection, CCTV and access control. Then they’d progressed to on-site surveillance. Disguised as tourists, they’d photographed the Memorial from every angle, observed the patrol patterns of the park rangers, and planned their escape routes. Even the traffic flow around the monument had been monitored. Nothing was to be left to chance.
Hazim pulled out into the traffic and began their slow approach.
‘This day the Brotherhood will strike back against the American tyranny over our land and brothers,’ Malik declared with zealous pride. ‘This day will mark the turning point in our war on the West.’