The Bodyguard » Niall Horan

07 » What would Lara Croft do?

I had slept relatively well in the unfamiliar bed, in the unfamiliar house. I was up early and did my exercises on the hard floor next to my bed. After doing those, I took a shower and got ready for the day.

Niall hadn't spoken much on the way back yesterday. I probably shouldn't have told him that, sometimes, people with bad intentions placed bombs inside or underneath cars. I couldn't help it: I was here for serious matters, not to watch films in a cinema and hold hands with a celebrity like some nitwit.

I put on something simple, with places where I could hide weapons. After all, I had to carry them everywhere now. It was too risky to put them in my handbag, as I could possibly lose it with all its consequences. 

I got out of my room and headed towards the kitchen. The clock showed it was 30 past eight. It was awfully quiet in his house, which made me believe Niall was still asleep. It gave me the opportunity to create a nice breakfast for myself with toast and a soft boiled egg. I made myself a cup of tea without milk. I couldn't wrap my mind around the English traditions. Milk belonged in coffee, not in tea.

I ate my breakfast in his backyard, overlooking the swimming pool, and enjoyed the chilly sunrays shining on my face.

" Hi," I heard someone say behind me. I turned around, looking into Niall's sleepy face. His dark hair was messed up and wore a white t-shirt with shorts. In his hand, he held a cup with a steaming liquid and sat down on the seat next to mine.

" Morning," I said and I could now tell he was drinking coffee. " Not much of a morning person?" I asked. Niall nodded towards the cup he held in his hands. " Not really." 

We sat in silence. Niall took a sip of his coffee every now and then with slurping sounds. " Why would someone put a bomb under my car?" Niall asked out of nowhere. I turned my face to him, now noticing the bags underneath his eyes.

" I don't know, it could be anything," I responded. " It could be the way you style your hair, the way you dress... Perhaps you cut someone off on a motorway or said something to someone who took it differently than you intended. It could be your job, your music... It could even be because you're Irish." I shrugged. " Like the idiots who appear to be threatening you, can be inspired by literally anything." 

Niall looked at me. " How do you know I'm Irish?" He asked surprised.

" I've got your file. I know when you were born, your age, length, and weight. Your hobbies, even your citizen service number." Niall stared ahead of him to process all of this.

" What are your thoughts about this situation?" Niall asked. I shrugged again.

" What I'm wondering," I started, " Is whether the threat is really as big as my bosses and your managers think it is." 

Niall pulled a face. " What is that supposed to mean?" He asked irritated. " Because I'm a famous person and a singer, the threat can't be that severe?" He stood up. " I thought you were alright, you know," Niall sneered, " But you're just as worse as every other person working for this shit government." 

He angrily walked inside. I heard him mumbling as he put his cup in the dishwasher, and closed the door with a little more force than necessary.

Niall didn't seem to understand what I meant with what I said. Two weeks he avoided me and declined every fake date his managers attempted to set us up with. It left me with very little to do. I mostly kept to myself in the guest bedroom to work.

I was sat on my bed with my laptop in front of me, with a type of Skype connection open on the screen. I called Kellan Blake, whose face appeared only seconds later on the screen.

" Hiya, Fulton. How're things?" He asked me. He was in an unfamiliar place, as I couldn't tell from the background where he was. 

" Blake," I greeted with a nod, " Despite the fact that my client has decided to put everyone working for the government into the box of bad people and that he hasn't said a word to me in two weeks, it's all good. Literally, nothing has happened." 

Kellan seemed amused by that. " What did you tell him, Mercer?" I shrugged. " Nothing special. I only asked whether he would be worth it to spend the millions of taxes our ordinary working class pays to get him the twenty-four seven security everyone seems to think he needs." 

Kellan laughed and shook his head. " So now we're all doomed and we'll have to pay for it in our clients' mind?" I nodded. " It appears." 

" Anyway, did you discover anything the last couple of days?" I asked him and suppressed a yawn. I heard Kellan rustle some papers. " Yes, several things. For one, your client spends a lot of money on clothes and sports accessories like golf clubs... He's also richer than you'd expect. Oh, and the trick his management pulled also worked. Did you see?" I nodded.

 " It's spreading like wildfire, but no one knows who you yet so keep it that way. We also checked the letters and packages on fingerprints, but none were found, unfortunately. We're trying to trace the letters back to where they came from, but that's still in progress so I can't tell you much about it until we have conclusive details." 

" So, not much yet. By the way, where the hell are you?" I asked, curious.

" THe basement. Waterlane has put us here because he doesn't want to endanger the mission." I rolled my eyes.  " What a load of bullshit. As if nobody but our taskforce signed the silencing contract upon receiving our own contracts." Kellan nodded, visibly agreeing with me. " I know, I know. But he doesn't want to listen so for the time being, we'll be stuck here like rats in a sewer." 

" At least you're not the one fake dating a celebrity," I responded. " A celebrity who doesn't even want to talk to you, that is." 

Kellan laughed, his pearly whites appearing even brighter than in real life. " I'm indeed glad I'm not in your position. Besides, I don't think I could act as a homosexual. That goes beyond all of my principles." 

" That's a real surprise," I said and sighed. " Please, find something quick. I don't know how long until he decides I'd be worth more dead than alive and murders me in my sleep."

" Don't you mean the other way around? Because the real Lara Croft of the British colonies cannot be killed, not even in her sleep." I smirked.

" I'll talk to you later when you've got something worthy," I said. " Why? WIll you kill me in my sleep if I don't?" He mocked.

" Hm.. I'm not sure. What would Lara Croft do?" I heard Kellan barking his hard laugh. I smirked and ended the call.