Hostage (44 page)

Malik’s eyes flickered open and a grey
windowless room swam into view. The harsh neon strip light on the ceiling hurt his one
uncovered eye; the other was blessedly shaded by a bandage. Next to his bed was an ECG
monitor, softly beeping at a regular pulse. An IV drip hung beside it, the tube attached
to a cannula in his left arm. Malik felt maddeningly thirsty and his lungs whistled with
every shallow breath he took. He tried to sit up, but it was as if a lead weight had
been dropped on his chest. Glancing down, he saw that his torso was swathed in bandages,
a patch of blood seeping through. Turning his head slowly, he became aware of a man in a
white coat sitting at the end of his bed.

‘Who … are … you?’ wheezed
Malik.

‘I have some questions,’ said
the man.

‘Talk … to my lawyer.’

The man ignored his suggestion and took out
a mobile computer from his pocket.

‘You were paid ten million dollars in
advance for kidnapping the President’s daughter.’

Malik went still. ‘How do you know
that?’

‘The people I represent paid you that
amount. And they want it back for
failure
to fulfil the terms of the
deal.’

Malik felt a chill run down his spine.
‘B-but I succeeded. That English boy, Connor Reeves, is to blame!’

The man appeared unmoved by his argument.
Clutching at the possibility of a deal, Malik said, ‘Well, what would I get in
return?’

‘We can talk about your release after.
First, I need your account details and transfer code,’ said the man, tapping at
the screen of his computer.

Malik considered the offer for a brief
moment only. If the central cell was powerful enough to reach inside the US Government,
then it was powerful enough to free him. Malik recited the digits from memory. The man
typed the account number and code into his mobile. Once the transaction was complete, he
returned his attention to Malik.

‘Now everything is in balance.
Equilibrium, you might say. We can proceed. What does the Brotherhood know about the
funding of your operation?’

‘Nothing,’ replied Malik.
‘I never told anyone about the central cell.’

The faintest trace of a smile passed across
the man’s face. ‘Excellent.’ He put his hand into his coat pocket and
pulled out a large fountain pen. ‘So you’re the only link.’

The man removed the nib to reveal a long
syringe.

‘What are you doing?’ spluttered
Malik, his uncovered eye widening in horror at the sight of the needle.
‘You’re not a doctor!’

‘No,’ the man replied, calmly
inserting the syringe into the Y-connector of Malik’s IV drip. ‘I’m
your executioner.’

‘But I
won’t
talk,’ promised Malik, a sweat suddenly breaking out on his brow. ‘I
don’t even know who you are!’

The man depressed the plunger on his pen and
a clear liquid fed into the drip. A second later, Malik felt a fire ignite in his arm,
as if molten iron was coursing through his veins. He tried to scream, but the sheer
agony of the poison spreading through his body took all his breath away. Arching his
back and writhing, he clawed at the man in a desperate attempt to stop him. The man
watched, impassive to his suffering. Then the poison reached Malik’s heart and he
slumped lifeless on to his bed, the ECG beep turning to a continuous drone.

‘And you
never
will
talk,’ said the man, putting the nib back on his pen and leaving the room.

‘How’s the leg?’ enquired
Colonel Black, standing beside Connor’s bed in the secure wing of the George
Washington Hospital.

Connor shifted uncomfortably. He felt as if
he’d been run over by a bus and his thigh still throbbed like wildfire.

‘Better,’ he replied, wincing,
his badly bruised ribs making it difficult to breathe.

His life had only been saved by his decision
earlier that morning to wear his bulletproof shirt. The first round had hit him dead
centre in the chest, resulting in blunt trauma – excruciatingly painful but survivable.
The second bullet had struck his unprotected thigh and he’d dropped to the ground,
blood pouring from the wound over the white marble steps. Connor had initially felt
nothing, the burst of adrenalin masking the pain. And in those few moments of shocked
numbness, he’d watched the groundsman being tackled by the two agents and finally
disarmed. Alicia had screamed his name as she was evacuated at speed by Secret Service.
But only when she was out of the danger zone did Connor relax, then a whiteout of pain
exploded in his leg.
Everything after that was a blur of agents,
rapid-response medics, ambulances and nurses.

‘Excellent,’ said Colonel Black,
with an approving nod at Connor’s manly response. ‘Your doctor tells me
it’s just a flesh wound, so you’ll be back on your feet in no
time.’

He handed Connor a get-well card.

‘You shouldn’t have!’
jested Connor, surprised by the colonel’s thoughtfulness.

‘I didn’t,’ he replied,
straight-faced. ‘It’s from Alpha team.’

Connor smiled. He supposed it was a bit much
to expect sympathy from a battle-hardened ex-SAS soldier. Opening the card, his smile
widened into a grin when he read the message:
To the Bullet-catcher!

‘Charley’s due in
tomorrow,’ revealed the colonel.

Connor looked up. ‘She’s coming
here
?’

Colonel Black raised an arch eyebrow.
‘I have to return to HQ and she volunteered.’

Connor was delighted by this news. It would
be good to have a friend around, especially one who’d understand a little of what
he’d been through. The US Government had been quick to suppress media reporting of
his true role in protecting the First Daughter. He was just a casualty of the
‘crazed gunman’ and, due to the baseball cap and shades he’d been
wearing, his identity hadn’t been revealed. Even his name had been changed on the
hospital records. His own mother and gran didn’t know the whole story either.
They’d been told he was involved in a mountain-biking accident while on his
student
exchange programme. The colonel had arranged a video call to
reassure them. And although Connor didn’t like keeping his family in the dark he
appreciated the need to do so – just like his father had when working for the SAS.

Connor put aside the card. ‘So
what’s the news on the groundsman? Was he connected to the terrorists?’

Colonel Black shook his head. ‘No, it
doesn’t appear so. Secret Service intercepted the missing terrorist yesterday, a
man called Bahir, as he was trying to escape to Mexico under a false passport. The
groundsman appears to be a lone wolf. They checked Alicia’s school locker on your
suggestion and found a note threatening to kill her for “ignoring him”. It
seems he had a fixation on her.’

Connor shuddered at the thought. If it
hadn’t been for the water pistol incident at the prom, his original call-in might
have been followed up by Secret Service. But at least all the terrorists had now been
captured – that was reassuring news for both him and Alicia.

‘Tell me, did Secret Service find out
any more about that double agent?’

‘Dead end,’ replied the colonel.
‘Agent Brooke’s apartment burnt down a few days back. The FBI are
investigating. But there’s no need to concern yourself with that. Remember,
you’re a bodyguard, not a spy. Talking of which …’

Colonel Black reached into his jacket pocket
and pulled out a winged Buddyguard shield.

‘For outstanding bravery in the line of
duty,’ he declared, pinning the badge to Connor’s chest and saluting
him.

Connor glanced down and saw that the winged
badge was
gold
.

‘I was right to trust my daughter in
the hands of a Reeves buddyguard,’ said President Mendez, making his personal
farewell in the Blue Room of the White House Residence, along with his wife and Alicia.
‘You’re most certainly your father’s son. You’ve proven beyond
doubt that you have his courage, dedication and strength of character.’

Connor smiled gratefully at the
President’s words. The bruising on his chest had disappeared and his leg, although
stiff, was almost fully healed. But now another wound was beginning to heal too – the
one in his heart caused by his father’s death. Being compared to his father was as
close as Connor could get to actually
being
with him again. And that meant a
great deal.

‘I just did my duty, Mr
President,’ replied Connor.

‘You went way beyond the call of
duty,’ stated the First Lady, kissing him on the cheek and embracing him.
‘There are no words to express how thankful we are for you protecting our
treasured daughter.’

‘This gift may go some way to helping
you in the future,’ said President Mendez, handing Connor a dark blue passport.
‘In recognition of your services, I’ve granted you
honorary citizenship of the United States. With this, you’ll be able to call on
any of our government’s resources and gain consular protection from our embassies
throughout the world.’

‘Thank you, Mr President,’
replied Connor, accepting the unique and powerful gift.

President Mendez and his wife now stepped
aside to allow their daughter to come forward. Wearing a lilac summer dress, her long
locks pinned back and a touch of make-up highlighting her natural beauty, Alicia was a
far cry from the distraught and terrified hostage she had been the previous month.

‘We’ll leave you two
together,’ said the President tactfully, as he led the First Lady out on to the
south portico.

Alicia waited until the doors closed behind
them, then turned to Connor.

‘I suppose this is really
goodbye,’ she said, biting her lip and blinking back tears.

Connor nodded. He hadn’t been looking
forward to this moment either. They’d been through so much together and shared a
close, seemingly unbreakable bond. It felt wrong to part like this. But now that Alicia
understood the necessity of Secret Service protection Kyle and his team could function
100 per cent effectively and Connor’s role was no longer required.

‘Thank you for protecting me,’
said Alicia. ‘Without you, I could never have survived being a hostage.’

‘Without
you
, I
wouldn’t have survived either,’ admitted Connor.

Alicia gave him an affectionate smile.
‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve accepted my role as the First
Daughter. I appreciate that while it offers me many unique opportunities, my freedom is
limited – and for good reason. I won’t be running away from Secret Service
again!’

Smiling ruefully, she glanced in
Kyle’s direction. Kyle nodded, before discreetly leaving the room. Now truly
alone, Alicia took a step towards Connor. She studied his face, seemingly trying to
commit it to her memory.

‘I know you can’t stay …’
she whispered, ‘but this is to remember me by.’

Alicia wrapped her arms around his neck and
kissed him full on the lips. Connor’s breath was taken away and he became lost in
the moment.

Suddenly the door to the room opened.