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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Crime
- Published: 10/12/2021
The letter from Mutual Atlantic Insurance arrived special delivery. I had solved a few problems for them in the past. This time they were asking was I available for a week of bodyguard work. An executive of one of their European subsidiary Companies was flying in for a week of factory tours and social occasions.
I was to join the chauffeur and car just before 9am each day outside the Plaza hotel, and ride in the front with the chauffeur while we were travelling. On the factory tours, I was to walk behind the executive group. The social occasions meant killing time with the chauffer until the event finished. When the executive slept, I slept.
I rung Michael my contact at Atlantic Mutual to accept the work.
“That’s good Charlie. He is coming in on Sunday. A group of our executives will meet him at the airport. They will be with him all day. You can start at the hotel on Monday morning......To give you some background. Lars Ringvol has a high-profile in his Country. He is an open supporter of the present Government…… Most of the population is unhappy with the Government’s performance. The result has been turmoil for the last six months……We have had a large influx of immigrants from there in recent years. We don’t anticipate trouble. We have employed you as a precaution. He flies out next Saturday.”
Bodyguarding is demanding work. It requires full time concentration. While those you are guarding wander around relaxed, the bodyguard must be scanning the surroundings, always on the alert. His task is to notice trouble and nip it in the bud before it starts.
I introduced myself to the chauffer Monday morning. Leon had been driving for Atlantic Mutual for a lot of years. I shook hands with Lars when he appeared and explained how Atlantic Mutual wanted me to handle it. I could have saved my breath. They had briefed him.
Our first stop was a big manufacturing plant with a large number of employees. The welcoming committee introduced themselves and the tour of the plant got underway. Groups of employees stopped work to watch the entourage pass by. I kept my eyes on the spectators.
About ten minutes into the walk I spotted a man with his hand raised preparing to throw something. I accelerated towards him, knocking a few people aside. I barrelled into him with my shoulder, grabbing his arm at the same time. In my rugby playing days that was known as an illegal shoulder charge. We both went to the floor. My primary concern was a question. What was he about to throw? If it was an explosive device, I was in trouble. With great relief I saw it was a paper bag containing flour. The Company security staff took over and marched the offender away. He’d be searching the situations vacant advertisements in the newspapers tomorrow. I dusted myself off, and after all had regained their composure, the tour continued without incident.
That afternoon before entering the Hotel Lars shook my hand, thanking me for sparing him the embarrassment of being covered in flour.
With an abundance of security staff at the social fixtures, Leon and I fell into the routine of a leisurely meal at a local restaurant while we waited. On Wednesday evening, as we left the restaurant and climbed into the car, my bug detector began to beep in my coat pocket. It has two functions; detecting the bug itself, or the presence of a powerful magnet. The vibrations of a moving vehicle demands a strong magnet to keep the bug in place. We found the tracking device behind the rear numberplate.
Here was a wakeup call. The question was; why would anybody want to track the movements of the car? The GPS tracking bug relayed the movements and whereabouts of the vehicle twenty-four hours a day. Whatever the reason our discovery and destruction of the bug had foiled the scheme. It served as a warning, though, for increased vigilance. Someone was paying close attention to our daily schedule.
Thursday morning Lars came out and, as he did each morning, handed Leon a schedule of the days destinations. The street was quiet. Very little traffic and few people about. The only out of the ordinary feature was an old VW Campervan parked thirty metres further up. It had no occupants. Leon pulled away from the curb. We had travelled fifty meters when a red Mercedes shot out of a side street and stopped in front of us blocking our way.
I happened to glance in the rear-view mirror. The Campervan was hard up against the rear of our vehicle. Two men in work overalls and balaclava’s pulled down over their faces, jumped from the Mercedes brandishing wooden clubs about the size of baseball bats. “No guns, I thought, amateurs.” One goon made straight for my side of the vehicle. He smashed the window. It seemed to be an act of intimidation. The message was; stay where you are. I had no choice.
The second thug had given the same treatment to Lars’ window, then opened his door. Distracted by my assailant, I had missed activating the central locking. The goon hauled Lars from the vehicle and marched him to the Mercedes. That was a mistake. They were amateurs alright.
I shouted at Leon. “Put it into third and put your foot down, aim at the front wheel.” Anywhere else ran the risk of injuring Lars. The sound of the impact echoed around the street as we catapulted forward into the Mercedes. Steam and water erupted from the ruptured radiators of both cars. They would not be going anywhere. Scrambling out, I pulled my Beretta from my shoulder holster and fired into the air. Both men leapt out of the Mercedes and sprinted into the side street. The Campervan backed up, made a U-turn, and was gone.
I trotted over to where Lars was extricating himself from the Mercedes. “Are you Ok?”
He was all business. “How soon can we get another car Charlie?”
“I’ll ring Atlantic Mutual and ask the question. We can’t leave until we explain all this to the Police.”
This proved to be my last day guarding Lars. Once the Authorities got wind of an attempted kidnap of a visiting foreign executive, it became an issue of National pride. In the short time remaining of his schedule Lars found himself with a Police motorcycle escort rear and front, a detective in front with Leon and another in the back with Lars, Police stationed outside his Hotel, and a Police presence at the factories and social fixtures.
A week later I received a letter from Lars thanking me for foiling the kidnap attempt. It remains to be seen if Atlantic Mutual will offer me bodyguard work again after wrecking their car.
PRIVATE BODYGUARD(Ross Thompson)
The letter from Mutual Atlantic Insurance arrived special delivery. I had solved a few problems for them in the past. This time they were asking was I available for a week of bodyguard work. An executive of one of their European subsidiary Companies was flying in for a week of factory tours and social occasions.
I was to join the chauffeur and car just before 9am each day outside the Plaza hotel, and ride in the front with the chauffeur while we were travelling. On the factory tours, I was to walk behind the executive group. The social occasions meant killing time with the chauffer until the event finished. When the executive slept, I slept.
I rung Michael my contact at Atlantic Mutual to accept the work.
“That’s good Charlie. He is coming in on Sunday. A group of our executives will meet him at the airport. They will be with him all day. You can start at the hotel on Monday morning......To give you some background. Lars Ringvol has a high-profile in his Country. He is an open supporter of the present Government…… Most of the population is unhappy with the Government’s performance. The result has been turmoil for the last six months……We have had a large influx of immigrants from there in recent years. We don’t anticipate trouble. We have employed you as a precaution. He flies out next Saturday.”
Bodyguarding is demanding work. It requires full time concentration. While those you are guarding wander around relaxed, the bodyguard must be scanning the surroundings, always on the alert. His task is to notice trouble and nip it in the bud before it starts.
I introduced myself to the chauffer Monday morning. Leon had been driving for Atlantic Mutual for a lot of years. I shook hands with Lars when he appeared and explained how Atlantic Mutual wanted me to handle it. I could have saved my breath. They had briefed him.
Our first stop was a big manufacturing plant with a large number of employees. The welcoming committee introduced themselves and the tour of the plant got underway. Groups of employees stopped work to watch the entourage pass by. I kept my eyes on the spectators.
About ten minutes into the walk I spotted a man with his hand raised preparing to throw something. I accelerated towards him, knocking a few people aside. I barrelled into him with my shoulder, grabbing his arm at the same time. In my rugby playing days that was known as an illegal shoulder charge. We both went to the floor. My primary concern was a question. What was he about to throw? If it was an explosive device, I was in trouble. With great relief I saw it was a paper bag containing flour. The Company security staff took over and marched the offender away. He’d be searching the situations vacant advertisements in the newspapers tomorrow. I dusted myself off, and after all had regained their composure, the tour continued without incident.
That afternoon before entering the Hotel Lars shook my hand, thanking me for sparing him the embarrassment of being covered in flour.
With an abundance of security staff at the social fixtures, Leon and I fell into the routine of a leisurely meal at a local restaurant while we waited. On Wednesday evening, as we left the restaurant and climbed into the car, my bug detector began to beep in my coat pocket. It has two functions; detecting the bug itself, or the presence of a powerful magnet. The vibrations of a moving vehicle demands a strong magnet to keep the bug in place. We found the tracking device behind the rear numberplate.
Here was a wakeup call. The question was; why would anybody want to track the movements of the car? The GPS tracking bug relayed the movements and whereabouts of the vehicle twenty-four hours a day. Whatever the reason our discovery and destruction of the bug had foiled the scheme. It served as a warning, though, for increased vigilance. Someone was paying close attention to our daily schedule.
Thursday morning Lars came out and, as he did each morning, handed Leon a schedule of the days destinations. The street was quiet. Very little traffic and few people about. The only out of the ordinary feature was an old VW Campervan parked thirty metres further up. It had no occupants. Leon pulled away from the curb. We had travelled fifty meters when a red Mercedes shot out of a side street and stopped in front of us blocking our way.
I happened to glance in the rear-view mirror. The Campervan was hard up against the rear of our vehicle. Two men in work overalls and balaclava’s pulled down over their faces, jumped from the Mercedes brandishing wooden clubs about the size of baseball bats. “No guns, I thought, amateurs.” One goon made straight for my side of the vehicle. He smashed the window. It seemed to be an act of intimidation. The message was; stay where you are. I had no choice.
The second thug had given the same treatment to Lars’ window, then opened his door. Distracted by my assailant, I had missed activating the central locking. The goon hauled Lars from the vehicle and marched him to the Mercedes. That was a mistake. They were amateurs alright.
I shouted at Leon. “Put it into third and put your foot down, aim at the front wheel.” Anywhere else ran the risk of injuring Lars. The sound of the impact echoed around the street as we catapulted forward into the Mercedes. Steam and water erupted from the ruptured radiators of both cars. They would not be going anywhere. Scrambling out, I pulled my Beretta from my shoulder holster and fired into the air. Both men leapt out of the Mercedes and sprinted into the side street. The Campervan backed up, made a U-turn, and was gone.
I trotted over to where Lars was extricating himself from the Mercedes. “Are you Ok?”
He was all business. “How soon can we get another car Charlie?”
“I’ll ring Atlantic Mutual and ask the question. We can’t leave until we explain all this to the Police.”
This proved to be my last day guarding Lars. Once the Authorities got wind of an attempted kidnap of a visiting foreign executive, it became an issue of National pride. In the short time remaining of his schedule Lars found himself with a Police motorcycle escort rear and front, a detective in front with Leon and another in the back with Lars, Police stationed outside his Hotel, and a Police presence at the factories and social fixtures.
A week later I received a letter from Lars thanking me for foiling the kidnap attempt. It remains to be seen if Atlantic Mutual will offer me bodyguard work again after wrecking their car.
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