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Rover turned a corner and the club
disappeared from view. Burying his doubts, Connor now felt an undeniable thrill at what
lay in store for him as a bodyguard. ‘So where are we going?’ he asked
eagerly.
    ‘Wales,’ replied Jody.
    ‘Oh.’ Connor tried to hide his
disappointment. He’d been expecting somewhere a little more glamorous. ‘Why
there?’
    ‘You’ll find out soon
enough,’ she replied. ‘Until then, I’d advise getting some rest while
you can. The weeks ahead will be demanding.’
    Leaving London, they headed west on the M4.
While Jody drove, Connor asked her about the Buddyguard organization – a search on the
internet had drawn a blank, apart from a news clipping mentioning Colonel Black as the
team leader of a high-profile hostage rescue in Afghanistan several years before. But
Jody politely evaded this line of questioning. ‘All will be answered in good
time,’ she replied. After his fifth attempt to extract information,she flashed him a steely look and he backed off. However, Jody did
reveal that she was an ex-Met police officer of some fifteen years’ service.
Rapidly promoted up the ranks, she’d moved to CO19, the police’s specialist
armed unit, before being transferred to SO14, Royalty Close Protection.
    ‘So did you ever protect Prince
William and Kate?’ Connor asked.
    Jody’s manner became guarded again.
‘That would break client confidentiality, I’m afraid.’
    Finding it was like getting blood from a
stone, Connor decided to take her earlier advice and tried to sleep.
    Three hours later, they crossed the Severn
Bridge into Wales. When they eventually came off the motorway, Jody took so many minor
roads that Connor lost his bearings completely. But judging by the craggy mountains and
endless fields they were in the middle of nowhere.
    It was late afternoon by the time a pair of
iron gates came into view. Atop the black wrought-iron design was a subtle but
distinctive winged shield. Levelling with an entry port concealed in the bushes, Jody
pressed an infra-red sensor on the dashboard and the gates parted. As they drove
through, Connor spotted a discreet CCTV camera following their progress. The Range Rover
crunched up a long gravel driveway, open fields on either side. Cresting a rise, an old
granite building appeared, not visible from the road. The size of a country mansion, it
was tucked into its own valley with a small lake and dense patch of woodland. Squared
battlements and narrow windows gave the impression of a fortified castle.
    ‘This used to be a private school in the
1800s,’ explained Jody. ‘But the facilities have been updated for our
purposes.’
    To Connor, the school still looked as if it
belonged in the nineteenth century and he struggled to see much improvement beyond a
large satellite dish on the roof.
    The Range Rover drew up outside the main
entrance. Connor jumped out and retrieved his bags from the boot. When he turned round,
he almost dropped them. Standing in the arched doorway was the
last
person he
expected to see.

‘Welcome to Camp Buddyguard!’
said the Indian boy enthusiastically, helping Connor with his bags. ‘My
name’s Amir.’
    ‘So this is where you ran off
to,’ remarked Connor.
    Amir offered a ready smile. ‘Yeah,
sorry I didn’t get a chance to thank you, but I thought Jody was about to arrest
me for late coursework.’ He shot the instructor a mischievous wink.
    ‘Show our new recruit to his
room,’ Jody ordered, apparently immune to his charm.
    Amir performed an overzealous salute.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
    Shorter than Connor and with a lean frame,
Amir bounded up the steps into the school’s entrance hall. His exuberant manner
reminded Connor of a meerkat’s – playful yet always on the alert. He was a totally
different person from the cowering victim Connor had come across in the Docklands.
    ‘And Amir,’ Jody called after
them, her tone stern, ‘I want that threat report on my desk by 0800
hours.’
    Groaning at the