Read Bodyguard: Target Online

Authors: Chris Bradford

Bodyguard: Target (28 page)

Charley closed the door to her hotel room
and collapsed on the bed. It was gone midnight and she was exhausted. But she had to
report in to Buddyguard. They’d want an update on the situation.

Her finger paused over the dial button.
She still hadn’t spoken with Blake. Since she was using the official
Buddyguard line, though, he’d have to answer her call now. Both dreading and
needing to talk to him, Charley took a deep breath and dialled.

The phone rang three times before it was
picked up and a voice answered. ‘Report in.’

She hesitated. ‘W-where’s
Blake?’

‘He’s been
reassigned,’ Jason explained. ‘I’m now your official
contact.’

‘Oh …’ said Charley,
disappointed yet somewhat relieved that she wouldn’t have to speak to
Blake.

‘Don’t sound so pleased to
hear my voice,’ said Jason. ‘I’m equally happy to be working with
you. Now, are you going to update me on your Principal or not?’

‘Sorry,’ Charley replied, a
little thrown by the change in
contact. She felt awkward
talking with Jason when they didn’t exactly get on. ‘Well …
according to the doctor, Ash is fighting fit. After finally being convinced to take
a ten-minute break for a medical check-up, he finished the gig to a standing
ovation.’ She half-smiled at the thought, still in awe of Ash’s
dedication to his fans. ‘But he
was extremely lucky to survive – that
direct shock to the head could have fried his brain.’

‘I’ve seen some of the fan
footage online,’ said Jason. ‘Looks like he was shot by a stun gun. Any
idea what went wrong?’

‘Faulty microphone,’ Charley
replied. ‘The sound technician says the wiring wasn’t earthed properly.
Terry – the tour manager – is furious. He’s got the whole
tech
team retesting all the electrics before the next concert. He says these things
shouldn’t
happen.’

‘Well, it did,’ said Jason.
‘Kay just called the colonel to praise your fast response. She credits you
with saving Ash’s life.’

Charley felt a flush of pride.

‘Kay’s also reviewing all
security measures with Big T,’ Jason went on, ‘so don’t be
surprised if
there’s a bit of a shake-up in the ranks. She wasn’t happy
with the rest of his team’s response to the situation, so she’s flying
out to join the tour to keep a closer eye on things.’

‘Big T did mention Kay was
concerned.’

‘Well, Ash does seem prone to
accidents on this tour,’ remarked Jason.

‘Accidents don’t just
happen,’ said Charley, repeating
the sinister message
that had popped up on Ash’s computer.

‘What? You think this was another
attempt on Ash’s life?’

‘Yes.’

‘But isn’t using a
microphone to kill someone rather hit-and-miss?’ Jason wondered. ‘Anyone
could have used that mic before Ash. A roadie during the sound check or one of the
band in the show.’

‘True. But the night before the
concert Ash showed me his social
media feed. There was a whole bunch of posts from
haters, but one, apparently from a fan, read, “Hoping for an electrifying
performance!” That’s too much of a coincidence for me. Someone wants Ash
dead and they’re going to great lengths to make it look like an
accident.’

Jason went quiet for a moment.
‘Then the question is, who is this fan?’

‘Exactly. If we could trace
the
two online messages, and any others sent by the same accounts, then we might
identify the user. I know Big T didn’t get anywhere with the first message,
but perhaps Bugsy has access to higher-level resources?’

‘Bugsy’s away on an
assignment for the colonel,’ informed Jason, ‘but I’ll ask that
newbie Amir if he can help. I hear he’s something of a whizz with
computers.’

‘Thanks,’ said Charley,
surprised at how willing Jason was to help. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to
work with him after all. ‘I’ll email you the links now.’

She pulled up Ash’s social media
page on her phone and
searched for the two suspect messages.
With a couple of taps, she forwarded them to Jason.

‘Got ’em,’ said Jason.
‘Anything else before we sign off?’

Charley hesitated. ‘Jason …
can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

She swallowed hard, her mouth going dry.
Jason was the last person she wanted to discuss this with, but she had to know.
‘Is Blake seeing someone else?’

There was a long pause. ‘Forget
about Blake, Charley. You’re better off without him,’ he replied.
‘You need to focus on the mission.’

Charley
felt her eyes prickle with
tears. It was obvious Blake had cheated on her. Stifling a sob, she went into the
bathroom and grabbed a tissue from the box next to the washbasin.

‘Besides, you’re the
girlfriend of a famous rock star now!’ Jason went on. ‘Not a bad swap
for you. I mean, how much better could it get?’

Dabbing at her eyes, Charley looked up
from the basin
and let out a small cry.

‘You all right?’ he asked,
finally aware she was upset.

‘Yeah, everything’s
fine,’ replied Charley in a voice as calm as she could manage. She
hadn’t cried out because of Blake. On the bathroom mirror, scrawled in her own
red lipstick, were the words:

TO BE AN
ANGEL
U NEED 2 DIE FIRST!

Ash Wild must have the nine lives of
a cat! How else could that snivelling, screeching pop prince defy death
twice
? It’s beyond belief. That boy deserves to die. Has to die.
Must die.

I should have shot him that first
night. Why the hell didn’t I pull the trigger?

I might have missed, that’s
why … Don’t be stupid, you had him in your laser sight. The man at
the gun store said it was just a matter of point and shoot … Wherever the
red dot was, the bullet would go. So why didn’t I pull the
trigger?

Just admit it! You didn’t have
the guts,
did you?

No.

The gun was too personal, too
hands-on. And too risky. The police would easily have traced the bullets and
gun. Besides, that blonde bitch Charley interfered. Ran Ash off the stage before
I could change my mind and fire. It’s her fault.

That’s why an accidental death
is a far better idea. No one can foresee it. No one can stop it.

The spotlight
took a lot of planning, though – the exact positioning of the light, the
removal of the safety chain, the sabotaging of the clamp, the precise timing of
the fall – every detail had to be accounted for. Then the little
ego-fuelled superstar lands in the wrong bloody place!

How unfair is that? Only a few
centimetres between life and death.

Ash certainly had a guardian
angel
watching over him then.

At least the microphone was easier
to tamper with. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that in the first
place. The only tricky part was ensuring Ash would be the victim.

But the plan worked – like a
dream.

Oh, the thrill! The sheer joy when
Ash dropped dead!

Then that blonde bitch again, the
Wild Cat. She brought him back
to life.

It was her fault, his guardian
angel. Yeah, all
her
fault!

Next time … I’ll
guarantee she can’t save her precious rock star.

Next time … he won’t
rise from the ashes. Nor will she.

‘If you’re my girlfriend, you
should really be holding my hand,’ said Ash as the two of them arrived in a
stretch limo outside the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas.

Since Dallas, the tour had
taken them to
Kansas City, then through Minneapolis and Denver to the entertainment capital of the
world. With a day off between gigs, his manager had acquired VIP invites for Ash to
attend an exclusive star-studded fashion show before his concert the next night at
the Mandalay Bay Events Center – and it would be Ash and Charley’s first
official appearance as a couple.

Ash offered his hand. He seemed totally
at ease with the arrangement made by his manager and Colonel Black – in fact
he looked proud to have her on his arm. Considering Ash could have almost any girl
he wanted, Charley felt flattered by this. She took his hand, telling herself it was
purely to keep up appearances. But after the messy break-up with Blake and the
deluge of hate messages
online she couldn’t deny it was a much-needed boost to
her battered self-esteem.

He smiled, gave her
hand a reassuring squeeze, then stepped out into a blaze of camera flashes.

The press were out in full force. The
fashion show was a focal point for all the celebrities in Las Vegas and a long red
carpet had been laid for their arrival. Ash was requested by an event marshal
to
stop halfway along for the official photo op. Dressed in a black silk shirt, jacket
and coal-black designer jeans, he looked the epitome of the teen rock star. Charley,
in a sleek satin gown and high heels that Ash’s stylist had picked out for
her, caught everyone’s eye, more than fulfilling her role as the chic
glamorous girlfriend. The cameras simply couldn’t get enough
of the hip young
couple.

As they posed for photos, Charley kept
her designer sunglasses on. She couldn’t risk getting dazzled by all the
flashes. She may have become Ash’s ‘girlfriend’, but she was still
his bodyguard. Her eyes scanned the huddle of photographers and, to her dismay,
spotted Gonzo’s rat-face among the pack. How on earth had the lowlife got an
official
press pass?

Still smiling for the cameras, Charley
surveyed the crush of tourists and fans behind the metal barriers, checking for
signs of a potential threat – those directed not only at Ash but also at
herself.

For she was now a target too.

That had been made abundantly clear by
the sinister threat left on her bathroom mirror. After taking a picture for
evidence,
she’d wiped away the lipstick-smeared message and hadn’t
mentioned it to anyone for fear of
being pulled off the
assignment. If she couldn’t protect herself, then how could she be considered
fit to protect Ash?

As more celebrities spilled out of limos
to make their way up the red carpet, Big T came up alongside and indicated they
should enter the hotel. Accompanying them,
he kept at a respectful but responsive
distance, his massive bulk a high-profile deterrent to any troublemakers. They
entered the famous Bellagio lobby, its ceiling adorned with two thousand handblown
glass flowers, the display suspended over their heads like a glistening rainbow.
Ushered through to the ballroom, Charley found herself among a menagerie of movie
stars, musicians,
TV personalities and supermodels – many of them drawn to Ash
and keen to meet his new girlfriend.

‘Hey, Ash, how ya doing?’
drawled an impossibly handsome and instantly recognizable figure.

‘Hi, Kyle, good to see you
again,’ said Ash, embracing the movie icon like an old friend.

‘And this must be Charley, your
guardian angel.’ Kyle lifted the back of her hand to his
lips.

Definitely
an angel.’

For a moment Charley was speechless. She
was glad of the drink offered to her by a bow-tied waiter – it gave her a
chance to compose herself. ‘Thank you … I’m sure everyone says
this, but I love your films. No one does action movies like you.’

‘Hey, I only act the hero,’
he said humbly. ‘You’re the
real
action hero.’

He did a couple
of karate punches.
‘I saw those photos
from Miami. You were like Bruce Lee
with that palm strike! Ash, I’m surprised you even need Big T any more,’
he said, glancing at the bald-headed veteran behind. ‘You should just hire
Charley to be your bodyguard.’

Ash laughed. ‘It had crossed my
mind.’

Charley gave a small smile, but Big
T’s jaw clenched and he clearly didn’t
appreciate the joke.

They circulated among the other guests,
Ash introducing Charley to more A-list celebrities than she ever dreamt possible.
The glamorous side of his superstar life was intoxicating and she had to keep
reminding herself that she wasn’t there for her own enjoyment but for
Ash’s protection.

At last the guests were called for the
start of the show. With
reserved seats in the front row, she and Ash were in prime
position next to the catwalk. But no place was reserved for Big T and he was
relegated to the ballroom entrance. The house lights dimmed and a thumping dance
track blasted out of the speakers. Spotlights lit up the runway stage and a
long-legged model glided out from the wings. Wearing only a gossamer-thin dress that
shimmered like moonlight, she was greeted by collective gasps of delight and wonder.
Another model appeared and strutted down the catwalk in an equally breathtaking
design, her off-the-shoulder kimono-inspired gown seeming to have been spun from
spider silk.

The ballroom was abuzz as ever more
cutting-edge fashions were paraded in front of the celebrity audience. But Charley
paid little attention to the clothes and the
models. Her mind
was too distracted. It kept returning to the ominous message on the mirror.

TO BE AN
ANGEL
U NEED 2 DIE FIRST!

The key question was: who had written
it?

A jealous fan? With a hurricane of abuse
online for being Ash’s girlfriend, that was a strong possibility. She’d
have to keep tabs on any repeat
haters to see if there was a link. But how had the
fan accessed her locked hotel room?

This made her think it could be one of
the band. If it was, perhaps the death threat was just a tour prank? She’d
witnessed the guys playing some pretty cruel jokes on one another. Everything from
cling film on the toilet and duct-taping their belongings to the hotel ceiling, to
swapping
shampoo for hair-removal cream.

But this message didn’t feel like
a joke, not with the threats made against Ash. Could the maniac trying to kill Ash
now want her dead by association? That was a distinct possibility.

Charley figured whoever had written the
message wanted to frighten her. Why else give a warning first?

‘I don’t believe it,’
said Ash, his jaw dropping
open in shock.

‘What?’ said Charley,
suddenly on high alert.

‘It’s Hanna.’

A gorgeous teenage girl with dark brown
locks was
parading in a show-stopping bejewelled silver dress.
As she approached the end of the catwalk, she spied Ash. There was a momentary flare
of recognition in her eyes, then she pirouetted away and strode back down the
stage.

Ash spent the
rest of the show squirming
in his seat every time his ex-girlfriend appeared. The model seemed to be
purposefully strutting in front of him as if to show him exactly what he’d
lost.

After the show, the guests mingled and
chatted, the stunning designs a focus of most conversations. As Ash and Charley did
the rounds, Hanna made her appearance. She now wore hipster jeans and
a cropped
white bodice-top that accentuated her toned body, her glossy hair was pulled into a
tight ponytail and with only the lightest touch of make-up her natural beauty was
stunningly apparent. Charley instantly felt out of her league.

But Hanna’s attitude certainly
didn’t match her looks. ‘So, you’re into blondes now? I thought it
was redheads,’ the model said cuttingly
to her ex-boyfriend.

Ash gave a pained look. ‘Hanna,
I’ve said I’m sorry. Many times.’

Hanna looked down her nose at Charley.
‘I’d be careful if I were you. You’re playing with
fire.’

Charley responded with a civil smile.
‘I’m used to getting my fingers burnt,’ she replied.

‘Well, as long as you’ve got
your eyes wide open. This boy is a player and he’ll break
your
heart.’

‘Hey, I’m still here,’
said Ash, mortified by her scathing comments.

‘More’s
the pity,’ said Hanna, turning on her heel and sashaying away.

Ash stared after her, a wounded look on
his face.

‘She doesn’t like you very
much, does she?’ remarked Charley.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t
blame her. I made a stupid mistake. Let’s go. This party’s
lost its
appeal.’

Charley followed Ash back into the
lobby, Big T falling in behind. As they exited the hotel, the line of cameramen
beckoned for a photo, but Ash wasn’t in the mood to play the gracious rock
star. He headed straight for the limo.

Then Gonzo heckled. ‘Hasn’t
Hanna forgiven you?’

Ash shot him a ferocious glare.

‘I’ve still got the picture
I took of you and that redhead,’ goaded Gonzo, snapping away at Ash’s
scowl. ‘That was a real money shot. Care to repeat your
performance?’

Charley saw Ash flush with anger and
turn on Gonzo. Before he could launch himself at the lowlife, Charley pulled Ash
back and bundled him into the limo.

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