Bodyguard: Ambush (Book 3) (41 page)

‘Gunner!’ he exclaimed, hurrying
over. ‘I didn’t think we’d see you out of hospital so soon.’

‘In Africa only the strong
survive,’ replied the ranger, his chest heavily bandaged and his voice even more
gravelly than before. ‘And
you
are definitely a lion.’

Connor was honoured by such a comparison.
‘What does that make you then?’

‘At the moment, a sloth!’ He
winked at the young nurse pushing his wheelchair. ‘But I’ll soon be back on
my feet.’

‘Joseph Gunner, I assume?’ said
Colonel Black, striding over to introduce himself. ‘Colonel Black, Connor’s
… guardian. You were unconscious when we first met but I want to thank you for helping
rescue him and the Barbier family.’

Gunner laughed, then winced in pain.
‘It was Connor who saved
me
in the end! You’ve a remarkable boy
there.’

‘Yes, I know,’ replied the
colonel. ‘In fact I want to talk to you about that. Connor’s spoken well of
you and I’ve a proposition you may be interested in.’

‘Well, I’m all ears,
Colonel,’ replied Gunner. ‘In my current state I’m not exactly
inundated with work.’

‘If you’ll excuse us,
Connor,’ said the colonel, inviting the ranger to join him in a side chamber off
the ballroom.
‘Gunner, I’m
looking for a man I can trust to teach survival skills to some other …’

As Colonel Black pushed the ranger’s
wheelchair towards the room to discuss his proposal in private, Gunner looked back over
his shoulder and called to Connor. ‘Just remember: it doesn’t matter whether
you are a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you’d better be
running.’

Connor laughed. He’d had quite enough
of running for a while and was looking forward to the relatively quiet life of
overseeing an operation from the safety of Buddyguard HQ. He helped himself to a fancy
chicken skewer from a passing waiter and was wondering where Amber had got to when a
finger gently tapped him on the shoulder. He turned round to find himself face-to-face
with the new president.

‘I just wished to personally express
my appreciation for ensuring the safe return of the Barbier children,’ said
President Rawasa, his tone surprisingly soft and delicate for a man now in charge of a
whole country. ‘It would have been a tragic outcome with serious international
repercussions for our nation if they had not survived. In fact I don’t know how
you made it out of that valley alive.’

‘We were very fortunate,’
replied Connor, ‘and were helped by Zuzu, the girl from a local Batwa
tribe.’

‘Yes,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘I must not forget her either.’

As President Rawasa lightly shook his hand,
Connor caught a strong scent of fine French musk cologne emanating from him. The
distinctive smell instantly transported Connor back to the hidden valley and the
mysterious
stranger who’d stood just
beyond the light of the kerosene lamps. Connor had assumed it had been the white man
from the burning tanker. But he’d smelt the exact same aroma the first time
he’d been introduced to Adrien Rawasa at the safari lodge. And how many other men
in this third-world country wore such an expensive and particular cologne?

‘Anything wrong?’ asked
President Rawasa with an enquiring smile.

Connor shook his head. ‘No, not at
all. I just remembered I have to tell the colonel something.’

Forcing himself to walk slowly so as not to
arouse the president’s suspicion, Connor headed for the side chamber that the
colonel and Gunner had disappeared into. Finding the room empty, he passed through a set
of double doors leading to a long hallway. The corridor was deserted but Connor could
hear voices in a room further down. Quickly and quietly, he hurried along the polished
wooden floor, the sounds of revelry fading behind him with every step.

As he approached the door to the room, he
noticed it was slightly ajar and through the gap saw Laurent Barbier. Connor judged the
ambassador needed to know about his suspicions just as much as the colonel. He was about
to knock on the door and go in when he spied the man Laurent was talking to and froze in
his tracks.

The ghost from his past had materialized
once more.

The ashen-faced stranger stood opposite the
ambassador. Unremarkable in height or appearance, he nonetheless exuded a sinister and
baleful presence that seemed to contaminate the room like a virus. Just looking at him
made Connor’s skin crawl as if he was covered with driver ants
all over again. Connor flattened himself against the wall
and, with a growing disquiet, eavesdropped on their conversation.

‘You never told me my children would
be in danger!’ snapped Laurent.

‘Such risks go with the
territory,’ replied the man, indifferent to the ambassador’s fury.

‘But why wasn’t I informed about
the ambush in advance? We could all have been killed!’

The man replied with a barely perceptible
shrug of the shoulders. ‘Sometimes, the less you know, the better. You hired
protection – of an unorthodox sort, granted – so your children are alive. Besides,
you’re going to be one very rich man.’

‘Mr Grey, when it comes to life,
there’s
nothing
more important than family.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he replied with a
scornful smirk. ‘So that’s why you had an affair?’

The ambassador was embarrassed into
silence.

Mr Grey evidently enjoyed putting the man to
shame as he pressed the point. ‘Now you don’t want Mrs Barbier knowing about
your other little liaisons, do you?’ His eyes flicked towards the door and Connor
sharply pulled back.

His breath catching in his throat, Connor
prayed the ghost hadn’t spotted him.

‘So let’s proceed with our
business,’ continued Mr Grey, returning his attention to the ambassador.
‘Tell me, is the new president fully on board?’

‘Yes,’
replied Laurent tersely. ‘The Ruvubu National Park will only be a park in name.
We’ll keep up the appearance of a functioning safari destination but
there’ll be no tourists. The park’s to be closed off for diamond
mining.’

‘Excellent. And Equilibrium has the
sole mining concession?’

‘In return for keeping President
Rawasa in office … by whatever means necessary.’

Mr Grey nodded. ‘And you, Ambassador,
will smuggle the diamonds out, using your diplomatic immunity from customs clearance,
and ensure they’re properly certified.’

‘Yes,’ replied Laurent.
‘That is the agreement.’

Mr Grey produced a small suede bag full to
the brim with stones and handed it to the ambassador. Laurent went over to a table upon
which lay a black leather diplomatic briefcase. He unlocked it and deposited the bag
inside a hidden compartment.

‘Now our business is concluded,
Ambassador,’ said Mr Grey, heading out of a side door, ‘you can enjoy the
party. After all, you’ve just become a multimillionaire.’

Connor darted across the hallway and into the
opposite room just as Laurent Barbier emerged, carrying his briefcase. Reeling from the
shock of the ambassador’s corrupt dealings, it dawned on Connor that he was amid a
nest of vipers. With their lives in potentially grave danger, the colonel was the
only
man he could trust. Connor had to find him, and fast.

‘You crop up in all the wrong places
and at all the wrong times, Connor Reeves.’

Connor spun to find Mr Grey directly behind
him.

‘Yes, I know who you are,’ he
said, relishing the wide-eyed look of horrified surprise on Connor’s face.

As desperate as Connor was to escape the
room his feet were rooted to the spot. Up close Mr Grey was an unnerving sight. His lean
face was plain and ordinary – but it was that dull ordinariness that made him
terrifying, like a waxwork come to life. His skin was dry and anaemic, his ice-grey eyes
devoid of all human warmth. And his breath, as he moved closer to Connor, possessed the
dank smell of a tomb.

‘So, Connor, what do
you
know?’ he asked, almost as
casually as
if he was enquiring about the weather. But the underlying menace was still there.

‘I know your name, but not who you
are,’ replied Connor, his mouth going dry with fear.

‘I’m afraid that’s
more
than enough.’ Mr Grey let out a sigh, then went silent as if
contemplating Connor’s fate.

‘I saw you on that tanker in
Somalia,’ said Connor, finding his tongue again. ‘What were you doing there?
Why did you shoot that pirate? Are you an assassin?’

Mr Grey narrowed his eyes at him.
‘Young boys have such enquiring minds. So many questions. But you know what they
say?’ He paused for effect. ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’

Connor wanted to run for his life. But his
legs failed to respond. A good thing perhaps, since he sensed that the merest attempt to
flee would prompt Mr Grey to eliminate him in the blink of an eye. Now, instead of
surrendering to his fear, Connor became defiant.

‘Well, if you intend to kill me
you’d better not miss this time,’ he said.

‘I
never
miss,’ snapped
Mr Grey, evidently offended at such a slur on his marksmanship.

‘You did at the mine.’

Mr Grey answered with a thin dour smile.
‘I shot exactly who I meant to.’

Connor frowned. ‘The rebel
soldier?’

Mr Grey nodded once.

‘You were
helping
me to
escape?’ said Connor, incredulous at such a notion.

‘I
wouldn’t call it help exactly. Just balancing the odds. Equilibrium, one might
call it.’

‘What is this Equilibrium?’
demanded Connor. ‘You mentioned it before.’

Mr Grey tutted. ‘Remember the cat! On
that point, neutralizing you here and now would raise too many awkward questions.’
He leant forward, ensuring he had Connor’s full attention. ‘This is our
second encounter, Connor Reeves. Pray that we don’t have a third.’

Connor swallowed uneasily. ‘So what
are you going to do to me?’

Mr Grey leant in even closer, his pale face
filling Connor’s vision. Connor found himself mesmerized by the man’s
fathomless eyes. He seemed to be plunging into their icy depths, drawn down deeper and
deeper like a drowning man. At the same time, Mr Grey whispered words like drops of
poison in his ear, his hushed almost breathless voice worming its way deep into
Connor’s subconscious. ‘
Forget my face … I never existed … You never
heard my name … Equilibrium means nothing … I am just a ghost to you
…
’

‘There you are! I was beginning to
think you’d gone without saying a proper goodbye.’

Connor blinked, shaking his head as if
he’d been woken from a trance.

‘What are you doing in here all
alone?’ asked Amber as she entered the room.

Connor looked around, somewhat bewildered.
He found himself in a little-used office with an old wooden chair, a desk and an
out-of-date calendar on the wall. The last thing he could recall was helping himself to
a chicken skewer from a passing waiter in the ballroom. Wondering how on earth
he’d ended up here, a vague recollection surfaced in his foggy mind. ‘Erm,
looking for Colonel Black, I think.’