Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(82)

Scrambling to his feet, Webber took no more chances. He tossed flashbangs into the two final chambers. The basement blazed lightning white and the air shuddered with the thunderclap of detonating stun grenades. But the SEALs encountered no more hostiles.

Webber noticed a door at the far end of the corridor. He directed Sparky to attach a small charge to the lock. As it exploded, he kicked the door wide open.

‘Alicia? Connor?’ he called.

Storming in, finger primed on his trigger, Webber was greeted by an empty cell.





The door to Alicia and Connor’s cell crashed open. The black-robed giant, his face still no more than a pair of raging eyes through the slit of his headscarf, barged in and seized them both by the scruff of their necks.

‘TAHARAK!’ he snarled, dragging them through the door.

Connor and Alicia had no choice but to obey as they were shoved along the corridor at gunpoint. Once again they found themselves in the makeshift video room. Two masked terrorists flanked the black flag while the leader stood waiting before the camera, his jewelled dagger in hand.

Connor’s heart froze at the sight of the gruesome knife. The deadline must have passed. The terrorists’ demands not  met. He couldn’t believe that President Mendez had failed to negotiate  at least a delay. His throat went dry with panic and he began to hyperventilate. Despite his training, nothing could prepare him for his own execution.

Alicia took his hand, clasping it tight. Connor met her terrified gaze, her eyes brimming with tears at the prospect of losing him forever. Connor then felt a strange calm wash over him. Despite the fear for his own life, a cool logic reasoned that if he was sacrificed  she could be saved. The US Government would be forced to submit to the terrorists’ demands, in some form or other, and Alicia would be freed. His death wouldn’t be in vain. He’d have protected Alicia with his life, just as he’d promised to.

A ghost of a smile even passed across his lips as he realized he’d be following in his father’s footsteps … right to the very end.

‘It’ll be all right,’ he told her as he was pushed towards his fate.

‘No, just the girl,’ ordered the leader. ‘It’ll have more impact.’

Connor was stunned by his unexpected reprieve. But his fears quickly turned to Alicia as she was forced to kneel before the camera, her back to the foreboding flag. Without thinking of the consequences, Connor flung himself at the leader to grab the dagger. But, before he’d even gone two steps, the giant hammered a fist into his right kidney. Connor buckled to the floor, wheezing from the blow, pain flaring bright within him.

‘Let’s send the Americans a message they can’t ignore,’ declared the leader, paying no attention to Connor’s suffering and gesturing to the man behind the camera.

As the terrorist pressed Record, the leader stood over Alicia with his knife. Alicia became stock-still, her eyes fixated on the gleaming steel blade.

‘President Mendez,’ spat the leader to the camera, making no effort to hide his contempt. ‘We gave you the opportunity to do the honourable thing. To bow to our demands with your head still held high. But you’ve broken the terms of our deal by attempting – and  failing – to rescue your daughter. Worse still, you murdered our innocent countrymen in the process. Now we, the Brotherhood of the Rising Crescent, will broadcast our message to the world – and you will listen and obey.’

Sheathing his knife, he pulled a gun from his belt and planted the muzzle against Alicia’s temple.

Alicia whimpered softly, shying away from the cold hard barrel that promised her death. Yet somehow she managed to overcome her terror and glare up at her captor. ‘My father will never give in to you.’

The leader ignored her. ‘President Mendez, we’re men of our word – but it is you who have forced our hand.’

He pulled the trigger.

‘NO!’ shouted Connor, reaching out desperately to Alicia as she screamed.

But the gun clicked empty.

The leader stared hard into the camera lens.

‘Next time, there will be a bullet,’ he warned. ‘You’ve less than two hours to meet our demands. Do NOT try our patience again!’





Charley, Amir, Ling and Marc huddled round the monitor in the operations room, sickened and speechless at the terrorists’ ruthless mock execution of Alicia.

‘So that’s the situation with less than two hours to go,’ said Colonel Black gravely over the conference video. ‘This crisis has gone public, the rescue attempt has failed, and the President is out of options.’

‘But where’s Connor?’ asked Ling. ‘He wasn’t in the video.’

Colonel Black’s expression darkened. ‘That I don’t know.’

‘Perhaps he’s escaped,’ Amir suggested, his expression hopeful.

‘But we’re taught never to leave our Principal,’ reminded Ling.

‘He could be dead,’ said Marc flatly.

‘NO,’ said Charley, denying even the possibility. ‘We don’t know anything, so cannot presume anything.’

‘Then why isn’t he in the video?’ asked Marc.

‘The terrorists are possibly holding him back for the deadline,’ replied Colonel Black grimly. ‘I’ll contact you if there are any updates.’