The Bodyguard 5sos

Chapter One

If there was a way of knocking at the front door of a Hells Angels Gang Headquarters and asking politely if they were holding a kidnapped girl in their basement, I think the FBI would have thought of it by now. 

In the meantime we are all crouching in the shade, like exhausted African dung beetles, slowly cooking in our body armour under the desert sun. We're waiting for the Sam,the SWAT Team Leader to give us the green light. The idea of polite door knocking has run off and hidden behind a cactus so we are going in under the old tried and tested route. Door breachers and sub machine guns on standby.  

I rock back on my haunches, push my helmet up and wipe the perspiration off my forehead. Over on the other side of the sandy lot, the run down building we were staking out seems to be acting as an amplifier, blasting out that timeless heavy rock classic, 'War Eternal,' across the empty desert sands.  

I watch as a green shelled lizard creeps over the toe of my boot, eyes up my Heckler and Koch and thinking better of it whizz off in a flailing blur of legs to take shelter under a nearby rock. Probably doesn't want to get shot and end up being made into an incredibly small pair of lizard skin boots.  

My lips feel like they are slowly starting to crack in the heat. I reach into the ammo pocket on my jacket and then looking across at the SWAT team lined up on the other side of the wall I decide against it. Not really a lip balm moment. My earpiece buzzes. 

"OK Mac. Go!" I slap the armoured hulk kneeling in front of me on the back with the flat of my hand and bending low to avoid being seen he scuttles off across the car lot. I follow, zig, zagging between the wrecks of rusted out cars scattered like dead cattle across the ground.  

We line up against the back wall of the building, three of us either side of a sun-weathered, battered,  door. I cautiously try the door knob and the door gives a little. Two of the team are coming across with the door breacher when a shout goes up from the other side of the building -the team at the front have been spotted.  

I nod at Mac, lean back and kick the door as hard as I can, ripping it off its hinges with a crack of splintering wood. The sound of, 'War Eternal,' ratchets up ten points and we charge into the gloom yelling, 'FBI!'  

Over the booming noise of the music I can hear the muffled shouts from the other side of the garage, the first team are already in. We are in a storage area crowded high with crates and the scattered, skeletal wrecks of old motorcycles. The air around us dances strangely under the effect of a single broken flashing fluorescent tube. I duck sideways with Mac and the other team split away to move round the other side of the room. Sliding into the space between a pile of crates Mac and I shuffle sideways along the gap.  

We emerge at the far end. Facing us, there is a single large crate forced up against the wall. Mac and I run over and slide it back across the floor. Underneath there is the hatch we were looking for. Mac grabs the iron ring and heaves it up. I flick on my flashlight and step lightly on the top step of the rotted wooden staircase before descending into the darkness.