Mark Young - Saudi Bodyguard

Saudi

Bodyguard

Copyright 2010 byMark Young

Published byLLamekuf LLC at Smashwords

The moral rightof Mark Young to be identified as the author of this work has beenasserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act1988.

All rightsreserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored ina retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, e-book,digitalised or otherwise including future technologies, without theprior consent of the copyright holder.

ISBN: 978-1-4675-0263-4

Acknowledgements

Sue,Stacey and Wayne

Theysupported me throughout the years regardless of the trials andtribulations we faced. I wish I could turn back the clock and savethem the suffering they endured.

Foreword

My brief isextremeI must protect my charge at all costs. I am by profession aBodyguard: I work at the upper echelons of personal protection. Iam willing to place myself in the firing line at the criticalmoment and to sacrifice my life for that of my charge. Should thesituation occur, I am prepared to intercept without hesitation thebullet meant for them.

As a youngster,I saved my younger brother Scott from a beating and this sowed aseed in me. From this seed grew my strong desire to protect othersmy dream of becoming a bodyguard.

I receivedmartial arts training from arguably the best Karate coach in theworld. My career has revolved mainly around the Saudi royal family,with other Arab royals and a couple of celebrities thrown in forgood measure. I witnessed sexual perversion, greed, corruption andphysical brutalityall incidents that have left their mark on mefor life.

As I know thesepeople for what they are, it instils a caution not to reveal toomuch personal information because it may put my family at risk fromthe dangers lurking behind the scenes. Over the years, Ive watchedand suffered as I wrestled with my daily duties battling against mycore beliefs and morals.

Initially, Icouldnt wait to become involved with the Saudi royals. After myexperiences, I never want to be involved with them again. Iobserved as their cheating, double standards and hypocrisywhichknew no boundswere used against their own people and the peoplewho served them. Money flowed before me as readily as the oilflowed from the oilfields in Saudi Arabia. British Governmentofficials fell over themselves to get in favour with the rulingfamily, lying and cheating their way to untold riches. I couldntspeak out, as the power these people hold would have been used todestroy me without hesitation. An example of a politiciansinvolvement with the Saudis became known when the Guardiannewspaper and Granada television faced a libel action in June 1997,brought by Jonathan Aitken, Member of Parliament. Aitkens casecollapsed when evidence showed that he, his family and friends hadlied to the court. He was a puppet of the Saudi Government foryears, and they pulled his strings at will.

My experiencesbrought me to the conclusion that it is not the Saudi royal familythat needs protecting from the people; it is the people that needprotecting from the Saudi royal family.

So here beginsmy story. I know it sounds controversial. Some of it may even seembeyond belief. Nevertheless, this was my experience. So please,read on.

Chapter 1

MyEarly Years

My early life washard. At five years old, my three brothers and I were taken intocare by the social services. They claimed we suffered cruelty andneglect at the hands of our mother. I found the separation from myparents traumatic and was a little boy lost. I pined daily for Mumand Dad. The Council run home we were placed in was large and setin sprawling grounds. It housed thirty or so otherchildren.

On my seventhbirthday, I received a visit from my parents who had bought me anew toy, a shiny red fire engine. It had a siren and bells, whichrang loudlyI loved it dearly. That evening the staff took it away,saying it made too much noise. I never saw it again. At mealtimesthey took pleasure in forcing us to eat our greens and vegetablesto the point of throwing up. It wasnt a good place to be in. Thestaff, I found cruelcrueller than our mother was supposed to havebeen! Mind you, they never had a chrome-tipped riding crop like theone Mum had used on us liberally when her mood dictated. Thoselashes smarted and raised welts on our bodies.

After two years,the social services returned us to our parents. We found Mumdrinking too much and having an affair with our fathers bestfriend, a man named Derek. This led to our parents separation, andultimately to their divorce. On the day Mum left Dad, she took myyounger brother Scott and me with her to London, but for somereason she left our two older brothers behind. I was seven yearsold, Scott was six. Our older brothers, Billy and Tony, were nineand ten. I never found out why Mum left my brothers but guessed shethought it fair, if she took the two younger boys then Dad couldhave the two older ones!

In one day, Ilost my father and older brothers. My life was never the same. Dadwas a strong and fearless character, having served in the specialforces of the British Army and later in MI6, part of the BritishSecret Services. When he discovered Mums affair he had gone afterDerek who ran and hid from him. Derek enjoyed bullying us boys eventhough he knew that if our Dad ever heard of it he would be inserious trouble.

If Derek thoughtwe had misbehaved he would often go to the tree at the bottom ofthe garden and break off a thick, long twig, and if it had budsbreaking out on it, so much the better. A few lashes with thatwould make him feel better and us much worse. I often wondered whyDerek had become involved with my mother given that he was soafraid of my father. Mum moved us around all the relatives housesand after exhausting that avenue, she then moved us from one rentedhouse to another. After some time passed, we finally settled downin a house in Brixton Hill, South London.

By now I hadtoughened up and was always involved in some fight or other. Oncewhile playing cricket, I got into an argument with the batsman. Hethreatened to hit me with the bat so I dared him to. He hit me sohard I went to hospital with concussion! From then on, I neverdared anyone to do anything again.

Even after we hadsettled in Brixton, I still missed my older brothers. So, it waswith great joy when I heard that one of them, my brother Billy, wascoming to live with us. However, my joy was short-lived as within afew weeks, Mum and Derek sent all three of us off to St VincentsConvent in Mill Hill, North London. I was now eight years old. Thiswas another home and the nuns ran this one from the Sisters ofCharity of St. Vincent de Paul to the Lazarist Fathers.

At nine and ahalf years old, I was back at home with my two brothers in Brixton.Within weeks, I stood in front of my mother and stepfather as twoCriminal Investigations Department Police Officers interviewed me.Along with six other young boys in the area, Id been sexuallyabused by a woman living nearby. As the police officers asked metheir searching questions on what had taken place, I wished theground would swallow me up. The woman concerned pleaded guilty toall charges against her and was jailed.

Shortly afterthis I lost my brother, Billy, once again, as he was taken off bythe social services to another council home. They said he wasunruly and uncontrollable: a juvenile delinquent. It was yearsbefore he came home as he was moved around various homes in theLambeth area of London. By this time, he had become seriouslyinstitutionalised and would be in and out of prison for years tocome.

My formativeyears were spent in despair. The only upbeat moment that I rememberwas when Mum gave birth to a daughter, my half-sister, Lisa. Mumsdrinking got worse and I found myself taking on the responsibilityof caring for my younger brother and sister.