The Bodyguard

7

"You. It's you." I state, covering my eyes from the scorching sun as I look at the familiar stranger.

"She's a cop." The young queer male states. Now that I got a proper look at him, he didn't look as young as I thought he did. I mean, he was young, he looked young, but not as young as a teenager.

"Can you please get us out of here? Please?" A girl, dressed in a white sun dress which is now stained with dirt pleads with me, grabbing my hands as though she was trying as hard as she could to cling onto life.

"I promise, nothing will happen to you, okay?" I assure her, internally slapping myself for making such a promise I didn't even know if I could keep. I peep from behind the spot we're hiding, and I access the situation. There's still a shootout, so I warn the kids not to show themselves. "No matter what happens, don't leave here. Call the cops. Do it." I instruct as I rush out to assist the bodyguards. Immediately, I begin to feel the adrenaline rush I was so familiar with and had missed. I aim my gun at an almost seventy degree distance from one of the kidnappers and I shoot, aiming for his hand. In my years of training at the Secret Service, I'd come to know that shooting the hand of a criminal was the best defense technique and the best method to render the opponent powerless.

***

After the shootout, I'm now standing at a far corner, watching the cops take the kidnappers away. A cop, accompanied by two bodyguards begin to head towards my direction. They stop merely a feet away from me.

"I'll need you to answer some questions for me, lady." The cop says.

I nod, handing my gun over to the taller bodyguard who seems to be the leader of the group. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"You could have gotten killed. You put not only yourself but our clients in danger too!" He yells at me, a frown visible on his face.

"Clients?" I asked, surprised at his response.

"You need to come down to the station with me to give your statement, ma'am." The officer says.

"They're children! Well, young adults, but you get me. I risked my life to save those kids, something which was taking you forever to do. I thought you'd be grateful and off— I stop myself from blurting out something that could ruin my image. I continue, "What I did, saved them, including you. What's the big deal? Can't you just be grateful?"

"Grateful?" He asks, moving closer to me. I hated this man. He continues, "A mere civilian who doesn't know how to handle a gun butts in, in a dangerous situation where the lives of people are at stake. We were in the middle of a negotiation. What if one of the kids had gotten shot and died?!"

"Civilian?" I ask. I chuckle, amazed and embarrassed at my current situation. It was in moments like those I'd have loved to pull out my ID card and reveal my identity. I continue, "I'm experienced with gun handling, sir." I state, uncomfortably.

"If you were, you wouldn't have risked all our lives!"

"Ma'am, please, let's go to the station now."

*****

"What I'm saying is, I took control of the situation, I saved the lives of those kids. I agree, I shouldn't have acted so recklessly, but the situation could've been worse."

"Andrea Leister." One of the detectives asks.

"Yes." I state, as I watch the detective whisper something to the cop. I sigh, relieved as I understand that they'd probably found out who I was.

"So you do know how to handle a gun." The cop states, eyeing me carefully.

"Yes, I do." I respond, throwing daggers at the senior bodyguard for doubting me. I wish I could yell at him, and let him know that I was in fact his superior in so many ways, but I couldn't. I was special agent Leister anymore.

"It might've been a set up, detective. You need to interrogate this woman carefully." The bodyguard says, and I scoff, disdained and extremely irritated.

I'm about to speak when someone beats me to it. The next words I hear take me by surprise. "That's not possible because she's my bodyguard." It's him again, the young man from the night before and the scene today.

"Otto, it's fine. She's my bodyguard. My personal one, so she had every right to be there." He says to the man. I eye the bodyguard notoriously. What an ugly name. Otto? Seriously?

"Is that correct?"

"You heard him. Why're you asking me?"

*****
After another hour of unnecessary stares and questions, I was finally allowed to go. It was one hell of day, and not exactly how I'd expected my day to go.

"Hey." I say, grabbing his arm as soon as we reach outside. He turns around and looks at me, and I could swear I could see him irritated for a moment. He removes his hand from my hand and I gasp, weary of my actions. He didn't like women.

"Why did you do that? I mean, why did you lie?"

"You helped me once. I thought I should return the favor."

"Twice, actually, and if that's the case, you have to repay for today. I'll assume what you did inside there was for the first time, during the raid." Shit. How did I say all of that? I must've sounded materialistic and shameless.

"Huh." He remarks, looking at me. He looked different. Very different. Although, I couldn't tell what the difference was. He continues, "What would you have me do, Ms. Leister?"

"I need a job. As you can tell, I'm familiar with the gun and I'm not scared of danger. By looking at you, your shoes, I can tell you're rich. Right? I can be your bodyguard, just as you said inside. I can prot—

He laughs. "You think I'm incapable of protecting myself, Ms. Leister?"

I look at him from head to toe, my mind screaming 'obviously yes', at him.

"It's not that. I don't think that." I respond, looking away. Damn. It was awkward.

"Then? What is it, Ms. Leister? Because I protected you, you wanna take advantage of that? You've found an opportunity and because I supposedly owe you a favor, you want to take advantage of that?"

"You make it sound so horrible. I just asked for a job." I respond, somewhat saddened. I had no idea why but his words felt like needles, pricking into my skin. I felt affected by his words, something that didn't happen often. Maybe it was because he was the first person I'd conversed with to such lengths, someone who wasn't a colleague or a suspect I was questioning.

"Ms. Leister!" I hear him call out to me. I turn around, wondering how else he could insult me.

"You can be my bodyguard. But, under one condition." I look at him, waiting for him to put forth his condition.

"You can never quit until I tell you to." And just then, as though my day couldn't get any worse, a heavy downpour begins.