Chris Bradford - Bodyguard - Assassin (5)

Chris Bradford is a true believer in practising what you preach. For his award-winning Young Samurai series, he trained in samurai swordmanship, karate, ninjutsu and earned his black belt in Zen Kyu Shin Taijutsu. For his latest Bodyguard series, Chris embarked on an intensive close-protection course to become a qualified professional bodyguard.

His bestselling books are published in over twenty languages and have garnered more than thirty childrens book awards and nominations.

Before becoming a full-time author, he was a professional musician (who once performed for HRH Queen Elizabeth II), songwriter and music teacher.

Chris lives in England with his wife and two sons.

Discover more about Chris at www.chrisbradford.co.uk

The Bodyguard series (in reading order)

HOSTAGE

RANSOM

AMBUSH

TARGET

ASSASSIN

The Young Samurai series (in reading order)

THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR

THE WAY OF THE SWORD

THE WAY OF THE DRAGON

THE RING OF EARTH

THE RING OF WATER

THE RING OF FIRE

THE RING OF WIND

THE RING OF SKY

Available as ebook

THE WAY OF FIRE

Brilliant Book Award 2014 Winner

Hampshire Book Award 2014 Winner

Bone-crunching action adventure

Financial Times

Breathtaking action as real as it gets

Eoin Colfer, author of the bestselling Artemis Fowl series

Bradford has combined Jack Bauer, James Bond and Alex Rider to bring us the action-packed thriller

Goodreads

Wholly authentic the action and pace are spot on. Anyone

working in the protection industry at a top level will recognize that the author knows what hes writing about

Simon, ex-SO Royalty Close Protection

A gripping page-turner that children wont be able to put down

Red House

Will wrestle you to the ground and leave you breathless. 5 Stars

Flipside magazine

A gripping, heart-pounding novel

Bookaholic

For the Roys,
Good friends to the end!

Warning: Do not attempt any of the techniques described within the book without the supervision of a qualified martial arts instructor. These can be highly dangerous moves and result in fatal injuries. The author and publisher take no responsibility for any injuries resulting from attempting these techniques.

The best bodyguard is the one nobody notices.

With the rise of teen stars, the intense media focus on celebrity families and a new wave of millionaires and billionaires, adults are no longer the only target for hostage-taking, blackmail and assassination kids are too.

Thats why they need specialized protection

BUDDYGUARD

BUDDYGUARD is a secret close-protection organization that differs from all other security outfits by training and supplying only young bodyguards.

Known as buddyguards, these highly skilled teenagers are more effective than the typical adult bodyguard, who can easily draw unwanted attention. Operating invisibly as a childs constant companion, a buddyguard provides the greatest possible protection for any high-profile or vulnerable young person.

In a life-threatening situation, a buddyguard

is the final ring of defence.

The deep snow deadened the mens footsteps as they crept up to the farmhouse. Only the faintest light came from the sickle moon in the winter sky and the five men stole like wraiths through the bone-chilling darkness.

Inside the farmhouse all was warmth and light. A fire burned not only in the grate but in the bellies of the four farmers who sat round the old wooden dining table, knocking back homemade vodka.

Its an outrage! snarled a bearded man, who had the bulk and temper of a grizzly bear. The Bratva have gone too far with their demands this time.

But what can we do, Anton? asked a rheumy-eyed farmer, his callused hands clasped round his glass as if scared someone might take it. If we dont pay their protection tax, theyll destroy our homes, harm our families even kill us.

We fight back, Egor. Anton downed his drink and poured himself another shot before refilling his friends glasses too.

Slumped like a sack of grain, a ruddy-cheeked man took a drag on his cigarette and stared morosely at his drink. How do we fight back when the mayor of Salsk, the man supposed to protect us, is in the Bratvas pocket?

Grigori is right, said Egor. We need a new mayor before we attempt to take on the Bratva.

Anton stabbed at the table with his forefinger. What we need is a new leader for this country. One that isnt corrupt and backed by the Bratva. But what chance is there of that? None! So we must take matters into our own hands. He turned to Grigori. Strength in numbers, comrade. If all the farmers and local businessmen band together, we can resist. Overthrow this corrupt regime.

But surely a bad peace is better than a good war? Egor argued. Weve everything to lose.

Weve everything to gain! Our freedom! Our families safety! Our lives! Anton shot back. He slammed his fist so hard on the table that the vodka bottle and glasses rattled. This isnt the Middle Ages. This is modern Russia. But its like were living in a feudal state, slaves to the Bratva. They steal from our tables, beat our sons, take our daughters. Enough is enough!

Im with Anton, said Luka, the youngest farmer, who had a thrusting jaw of corn-coloured stubble. Its time we made a stand.

Grigori let out a sigh and straightened himself in his chair. With a grimace, he knocked back his drink. What choice do we have? The Bratva will take everything anyway. He looked at Egor, who gave a resigned shrug in agreement. So, Anton, whats your plan?

Anton replied with a grim smile. Itll take courage and guts and a lot more vodka! He waved the almost empty bottle in the air. Nadia, be a good girl and get Papa another bottle from the cellar.

His five-year-old daughter glanced up from playing with her baby brother by the fire and responded with an eager nod. She hurried into the kitchen, where her mother was cutting up potatoes and adding them to a thick brown stew bubbling on the stove. As she passed by, Nadia caught its delicious meaty aroma and her mouth began to water.

Her mother smiled. Not long now, my little kitten, she said, with a tender stroke of Nadias snow-blonde locks.

Swallowing back her hunger, Nadia unbolted the door to the cellar and peered into the black depths. Away from the warmth of the fire, she felt a chill run down her spine. The cellar always frightened her with its dark corners, white wisps of spiderweb and dank grave-like smell, and she couldnt help imagining something terrible lying in wait for her.