When I first started working in the field of Executive Protection, one of my first jobs was to provide protection to an American woman who had fled an abusive relationship with her 4 year old son from her husband who was a Saudi Arabian national.  We had been hired by the woman’s father to insure that she and his grandson were able to get back to the United States safely.  I was working on a team of all Brits like myself who were former Para’s and SBS.

The 3 hour flight from King Khalid Airport was uneventful for the most part and we landed in Amsterdam for a connecting flight to Houston Texas.  When we arrived at Amsterdam Schipol Airport the team leader directed me to stay with the clients while he and another team member walked off the aircraft to scout ahead.  While sitting next to the client I became aware of an Arabic voice speaking to another man almost directly across from where we were sitting.  The man stated “That is her and the boy; we will take the boy when they are not paying attention.”  The other man then stated “Kallid will be happy.”

I suddenly became aware that these two men had been hired by the husband of the woman and had been watching us and making plans to snatch the boy and before things went any further, I quickly wrote a note and passed it over to the other team member who immediately got up and went to find the team leader.

When the team members returned to the plane they were accompanied by two of Netherlands finest.  The Police immediately asked the two men what their business was in the Netherlands and the men answered in English that they were going to visit some friends in Amsterdam, while they continued with their lies; the client and her son were moved off the plane by the ATL and another EP specialist.  I stayed on board with the Team Leader and we continued listening to the men.

I asked one of the Police officers if I could say something and was told “yes.” I turned to the two men and told them in Arabic that I heard everything they had said.  The shock on these two individuals face was priceless and their story soon seemed to fall apart shortly after.  The individuals were taken off the plane by the authorities and were taken away.

Our team had no further dramas and we arrived with our clients 12 hours later in Houston.

The motto of my story is simply this, being able to speak a foreign language is a tool that will help you. I would highly recommend to any EP specialist or those planning on entering into the field to learn a foreign language.  Being bi-lingual has helped me find numerous jobs in the Middle East and on many occasions has also helped me to make more money because of the specialty skill that I had to offer employers.

It is always hard for any Alpha male type personality to admit when they are wrong. My father passed away in 1988 and I was never able to tell him; Father, you were right and I was wrong.

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1. True Bodyguard Stories:2
2. True Bodyguard Stories #8 When In France
3. True Bodyguard Stories #5 In the Club

It is lengthy because he is a very industrious businessman whose telephone never stops ringing, and he takes all the calls. He offers me the contract, which includes traveling by car 300 miles to the sporting event. Just before I leave he says “I’ve never done anything like this before; trusting someone like this. We will have a large sum of money with us for the duration of the trip, and I want to feel safe at all times. Your number one priority will be to protect my assets. Protect my assets at all times!” I reassure him that he, and his assets, are in good hands, and leave. A few days later, I pick up my client at his home to drive to the event. We pack up the car’s trunk with our luggage, and he places a briefcase on the backseat. Just before we’re to arrive at our destination, he gives me directions to stop at a local bank where he has wired cash to himself.

He grabs the briefcase from the backseat. I decide to err on the side of caution, and stow my firearm in the car, since every state has different laws regarding carrying firearms into banks. We enter the bank, and my client goes to a teller window. He gives the bank teller his name, and to my dismay, states rather loudly the amount of cash he is picking up–and it is a very large sum of money. He then slides the briefcase across the counter for her to fill with cash. I instantly scan the lobby and can tell that virtually everyone in the lobby has heard him say he is picking up very large sum of cash. I’m feeling a little nervous. I turn to look at everyone, in attempt to let the customers know that my client has security.

To make matters worse, the teller returns to the vault with a cart and starts counting cash out loud at the window!! Now I am really worried, so before she gets to $1000 dollars, I stop her. “Is there somewhere else we can do this, somewhere more private and away from prying eyes?” I ask the teller. She just gives me a blank look then says “No there isn’t, sir.” I ask to speak with the bank’s manager. My client is clearly annoyed, and tells me he doesn’t understand why I want the manager and that I’m holding up his errands.

I explain quietly to him that both he and the teller are oblivious to the number of people who have overheard the amount of cash he’s picking up, and now everyone in the bank will know, because she is counting it out loud, in front of all these people! I then explain that while we may be safe in the lobby, who knows what could happen once we leave the bank? Someone could use a cell phone to make a call informing a thief that a large amount of cash is leaving the bank. My client slowly turns around and sees all the people in line behind him and throughout the lobby. I can see fear in his eyes, and his face goes completely pale.

When the manager arrives I ask if her office is available for large cash transaction, and without hesitating she leads us away from the lobby to her office. My client goes into the room with her, and I hear an automatic machine counting out the cash. After the transaction has been completed, and the money is transferred to the briefcase, I ask the manager to lead us to the bank’s back exit. I take my client by the arm, and make a bee-line to our car. I strongly suggest that we should go directly to the hotel and put the money in the safe, but he doesn’t want to follow my lead. He tells me that he has other business to do within walking distance of the bank, and that it is out of the question that we lock the money in the car–he wants it in his hands at all times. So we go to the car to get my firearm, and we proceed to walk down the street with him carrying the briefcase.

I know this is not at all a good decision, but he’s the client, it’s a new relationship, and I’m trying to be obliging. But I am not at all comfortable. I am looking around, checking to see who is in the vicinity, taking in our surrounds, and then his cell phone rings. He gets call after call as we’re trying to get to the neighboring businesses he needs to visit, and every time he answers a call, he puts the briefcase on the ground. Problem is, he gets so involved in his calls, that he’s walking around, sitting on benches, playing with leaves on trees. His mind is a thousand miles away from his cash-crammed briefcase. I am like a mother hen protecting her eggs–I am standing over the briefcase, with it between my legs. Finally, I take the briefcase in hand and stand off to the side of a storefront watching my client babble on and on.

He finishes the call and goes to the spot where he has left the briefcase ten minutes earlier, and terror washes over his face. He spots me and rushes over, “Where’s the briefcase, where’s the briefcase!?” I lift it up to show him I have it and he says, “Thank you,” and takes it from me again. We continue down the street, and he continues to take phone calls. I have to pick up the briefcase four more times because he has forgotten about it while he’s doing business on the phone.

Finally, he gets rather surly and confronts me; “Look, man, I know I hired you to be my security, but you are killing me by picking up my briefcase every time I put it down. You are going to give me a heart attack. We need to come to some kind of understanding as to exactly what it is I want you to do.” I look at him a long moment, then take a deep breath. “It was my understanding that you wanted your assets protected at all times. We have been walking in an outside mall for more than an hour, with a very large amount of cash with us. You want to hold on to the briefcase, but you keep
putting it down and forgetting about it. Did you happen to notice the guy in the blue button-down shirt and baseball cap talking to the lady in the purple dress? Well, they were both at the bank when you made your very public withdrawal. They have been in our vicinity for some time now.” I have a long-time history working undercover in law-enforcement, and my hackles are up.

My instincts are telling me that something may be very wrong. I don’t know if these people are waiting for a chance to grab the briefcase, or if they’ve called someone to grab it further down the road. My
gut is telling me to take some sort of action. What my client doesn’t know, is that I have already called a friend of mine with the local police department, and arranged a “Terry Stop.” During the course of a law
enforcement agent’s Terry Stop, if the officer feels that the suspect is in possession of a weapon that is of danger to himself or others, he may conduct a pat down of the suspect’s outer clothing garments to search for weapons. Officers then fill-out a Field Interview card, noting the person(s) name and other identifying information.

I tell my client that the police are on their way, and that once they arrive, I strongly suggest that we return immediately to our vehicle with a uniformed escort and proceed to the hotel and place the briefcase in the safe. My client finally gets the picture. Once the police arrive, he agrees to go to the hotel. Once we check in, and the briefcase is secured, I go to my client’s adjoining room. I apologize for being brusque with him, but he is quick to concede that I had done nothing wrong. I spend the next two hours in my client’s room, giving him a basic security awareness course. I explain that protective agents don’t just stand around, looking menacing. I explain why clients should walk on the building side of the sidewalk, and not the street side. I gave him tips that can help him to protect his own family.
Taking the time to share what it is we do, and why, means the client can play an active role in his own safety. By educating him, I earned his trust, and elevated his confidence in my skills. It worked out so well, that I am booked to work the same security detail with him for the next three years.

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1. True Bodyguard Stories #7 Nobody’s Thug
2. True Bodyguard Stories #8 When In France
3. True Bodyguard Stories # 9 Playing With The Paparazzi

When you work for an extremely popular mega-star, one of the major responsibilities is dealing with the paparazzi. They can be like sharks with cameras, and navigating rough waters with a famous celebrity can be tricky and sometimes downright dangerous.

I worked for a major recording celebrity in the 1980s who didn’t like having his picture taken. He was always asking us to try and confiscate the film. One time, as my client was getting into his limousine, a photog jumped into the car with him to snap a close shot. The client went crazy, and the head of security asked us to handle the situation. I was young, but I knew that if I laid my hands on this photographer, or his camera equipment,  it could mean big trouble since the law would be on his side. The other two bodyguards in the entourage jumped into action–forcefully ejecting the guy from the car and grabbing his camera and film.

Of course, the photog called the police and one bodyguard was arrested for battery and the other for robbery. They spent the night in jail.

Since our client was so adamant about not letting people take his picture, it was always a big pain dealing with the paparazzi. He’d order us to confiscate the film from the camera (that was back before digital) but we’d all learned our lesson, and it wasn’t worth jail or the consequential smear on our records to steal property from other people just because he was camera-shy! It got so we’d keep rolls of film in our pockets, just so he’d think we’d done his bidding. We’d race off after a guy, and a couple minutes later, return. He’d ask to see the evidence, and we’d reach into a pocket and pull out one of our decoys.

I’ll never forget one time when we were on tour in London. The paparazzi had been out for blood that night, chasing us down streets, circling around the car as we sped through town. I understand what the atmosphere must’ve been like for Princess Diana–these Londoners were ruthless. While our client was dining inside a restaurant, we crept out to the parking lot and let the air out of the tires of one of the cars that had been in hot (and dangerous) pursuit. As luck would have it, a police officer came by, and caught us in the act. He located the photographer, and asked him if he wanted to press charges. Thankfully, the guy was a good sport about the whole thing and declined. He knew it was all a game and that we were doing our job–just as he was doing his.

Over the course of my career, I learned how to keep the feeding frenzy of these camera-crazed people in check. I understood that their livelihoods depended on getting some photos to sell to the magazines, who in turn are obliging the hungry public. We’d negotiate with them. They could snap a few pictures if they remained orderly and maintained a certain distance. Having an adversarial attitude towards them seemed to only incite more aggressive behavior. If we were cooperative but firm, we managed to keep our client safe and the sharks well fed.

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1. True Bodyguard Stories #7 Nobody’s Thug
2. True Bodyguard Stories #4 Making Friends With the Enemy
3. True Bodyguard Stories #3 The Mysterious Mr. Larson

In 2004, I was working overseas in the South of France, working with a television production team. My protectee was an American actress, and my contract and arrangement with the show’s Producer was that my energy and focus should be strictly on keeping her safe.

We were all at the airport in Nice, France, waiting for our luggage and equipment. Everybody was dead tired because the night before, the entire cast and crew had attended a VIP party to celebrate and promote the show. It had been a long day, followed by an even longer night, and everybody was over-tired, some a little hung over, and all of us desperately needed some sleep. My protectee had invited some friends to the party, and they were along with us at the airport, when one of her male friends lights up a cigarette–ignoring the “No Smoking” signs.

A local French man with a chip on his shoulder when it comes to Americans, starts yelling at him, insisting in broken English that he put out his cigarette. Clearly, the guy was breaking the rules. And they start getting into it, yelling and wildly gesturing. I was annoyed, but what was I supposed to do–my responsibility was to look after the star of the show–not her friends. Well, her friend is not only breaking the rules, but he starts acting like an “Ugly American,” and things start to escalate.

The French man is yelling loudly and then starts the shoving. My protectee turns to me and implores “Don, DO something!”

These are the moments when being in Executive Protection can put a person in a real pickle. On the one hand, my protective services do not extend to knuckle-heads in the entourage, and I’m a stranger in a strange land. On the other hand, if I don’t do something to de-escalate this problem, my protectee’s friend might end up in real trouble and I may end up without a job.

I eyeball the Producer, and he’s not speaking up on my behalf to remind her that this is not my responsibility, so clearly, I’m in an awkward position. By this time, the French man has pushed the other guy up against the wall. I walk over and shout out “Security, Security” and pull him off of the guy and put him against the wall. The guy calms down a little, and just then I hear footsteps approaching and I can see the airport police and military guys approaching post-haste.

Remember, this is post 9/11, and airport security is not fooling around when it comes to disruptive behavior. These guys are edgy and the last thing I want is to spend the night in jail in a foreign country, so I slip into the gathering crowd, and go straight to the Producer. “Do you have a good lawyer and some money?” I quickly ask him. The guy nods, and now he’s looking really worried. If this gets ugly, he’s going to have to pony-up some cash, and the expense of a production delay will eat a big chunk out of the budget. On top of that, if I’m arrested, the actress is without protection.

Both guys are detained and questioned by the police. Since they didn’t get a good look at me, I’m off the hook. Thankfully, both men were released and we continued on our way as scheduled. The actress, her friend, well, the entire entourage were singing my praises as we jetted away from France.

Things might have turned out very differently, though.

I don’t regret intervening, but this story illustrates how we so often find ourselves in situations where we are asked to perform duties that are outside of the job description. The trick is finding a way to please the client without jeopardizing our own well-being. Quick assessments and problem-solving are essential skills on the job. The ability to take charge of a potentially volatile situation using the appropriate level of force can mean the difference between spending a lousy, sleepless night in jail or a night in First Class with a good book.

~~Don Moe

Certified Personal Protection/Anti-Terrorism Specialist

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2. True Bodyguard Stories #5 In the Club
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Back in the mid-90s, I was working with a partner in Los Angeles. We got the call to work a detail for a wealthy V.I.P. who needed two bodyguards for a night out at one of the swankiest nightclubs in the city. My partner and I were responsible for driving this gentleman and his entourage of 15 people to the venue, and the job was fairly routine, as these jobs go; escorting his guests to the restroom, getting the server when the cocktails were running low, keeping his area of the V.I.P. room secure.

Everything changed when a friend of mine showed up. She and I had met at the gym, and both knew some of the same people in the acting world. It just so happened her photo spread had just appeared, and she was Playboy’s Playmate of the Month. She came by to say hello, and immediately after she walks away, my client asks “who was that?” He was rather forceful guy, clearly accustomed to getting what he wanted. “I want to meet her,” he insisted. So, I thought to be polite, I’d make an introduction. I brought her around to his table, and of course she was her usual nice, friendly self and she’d become something of a celebrity so she was obliging a fan.

After a few minutes of chatting, and a glass of champagne, she excused herself and returned to her friends. My client walked up to me and said “I want her.” He seemed to mistake her charm and politeness for interest in him. I explained that she was there with her boyfriend, a New York actor of some note, but that didn’t dissuade this guy. “How much do I have to pay you to kick his ass?” I was taken aback. I’d never had a client make such a ridiculous request.

Well, my idiot partner says “One thousand dollars.” I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to kick his ass! I explain to the client that no, that’s not going to happen. He ignores me, turns to my partner, and offers him $2000. Well, he then explains that he was “just kidding,” and the client is furious. I explain to him that we don’t beat people up, it’s against the law, and that we’re not willing to go to jail so he can get this girl (that’s just how arrogant he was–it never occurred to him that she wasn’t interested in him!)

About an hour later, the entourage decides to leave the club, and my client spies this girl at the curbside valet. He turns to me and says “Come on, I’ll give you $5,000 to kick his ass.” At this point, I’ve about had it with this goofball. I answer him loud enough for everyone in his group to hear “Listen, I am NOT going to kick his ass for you. Drop it.” Looking back, I guess that wasn’t the best way to handle it.

So now, the client is furious with me. He’s embarrassed, he’s been drinking, and he angrily slides into the back seat of his tricked out Mercedes SUV and slams the door hard. I slip in to drive. His assistant, the guy who hired us for this job, is sitting next to me and I can see in the rearview mirror that the client is pissed. Then the verbal abuse starts.

This guy is yelling his fool head off at me, like a three-year-old child who had his candy taken away. It is all I can do not to yell back, or dump his sorry behind off at the side of the road. I stay calm. I remain professional. He continues to scream at me in this vehicle. He yells at me all the way back to his condo, where the rest of the entourage is waiting to party some more at his place.

When we get out of the car, and he sees all his guests waiting for him in the carport, he decides to play the last jerk card in his deck. He yells at his assistant, “Get him out of here, pay him.” He’s trying to be a big-shot, and make it look like I did something wrong. His assistant hands me the $400 fee for the night.

“Do you see this money?” I said as calmly and patiently as I could. “I’m not for sale.” His mouth dropped open and his guests were utterly silent as I tucked the bills under the windshield wiper of his fancy Mercedes and walked away.

The next day, and for several days after, this guy’s assistant calls me and leaves messages. I don’t even bother to listen to them. I don’t return his calls. About a week later, I’m out at a club working for a long-time client, and I run into the assistant. He runs up to me “I’ve been trying to talk to you,” he says, and reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a worn-out envelope–clearly, he’d been carrying it around all week.

“My boss feels really bad about the way he behaved, and wants to apologize. This is for you.” I tell him that it’s not necessary, but he insists. “Take it,” he says “you earned it.” I finally relent. When I open the envelope, I about fall over in shock. Inside is $1,000 cash.

The lesson in this story is that you can count on running into people who will tempt you with money to do the wrong things. If you let a client treat you like you’re some hired thug, then you will become a thug. In this case, it turned out that maintaining my integrity (literally) yielded a higher reward!

David Lamanno
http://www.socalbodyguards.com/

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1. True Bodyguard Stories #4 Making Friends With the Enemy
2. True Bodyguard Stories #3 The Mysterious Mr. Larson
3. True Bodyguard Stories

In the 1980s I had a buddy who worked for a Mega Pop-Star. Being on the road for long stretches of time can be fun, but it also can get pretty monotonous and dull. It is not at all uncommon to play pranks and pull practical jokes just to entertain yourself. This is a story Charlie told me about his time on the road and let it serve as a warning: Think Before You Prank.

Charlie was one of the biggest cut-ups you’d ever want to meet. He was in charge of transportation on this tour. He’d just arrived in Los Angeles and checked into his room–the prestigious and well-appointed Westwood Marquis. Charlie decides to kick back on the bed to watch a little t.v. He’s leaning a little on the nightstand next to the bed, watching the tube when Bill walks in. Bill is an older southern black man and the Head of Security for the Mega-Star. As Bill walks into the room, Charlie decides to have a little fun with him. Charlie speaks at the television and says “T.V. Off.” And the television shuts down. Well, old Bill is amazed and asks what’s going on. “Oh, this is one of those new voice-activated Sony televisions,” Charlie says with a straight face. Now Bill, not being remotely technology-minded, says “No kidding?”

“Go on, try it,” Charlie encourages him and Bill faces the t.v. and says with his southern drawl “t.v. On” and the set comes to life. “See,” Charlie says. “Try it again.” Bill loudly says “t.v. Off” and the idiot box shuts off.

Bill is so thrilled by this, he runs out of the room, and comes back with the Mega-Star and his brother in tow. “You’re never gonna believe this,” he says excitedly to Bubba and his brother. He walks up to the t.v. and says “t.v. On.” Nothing happens. He’s puzzled, but persistent. “T.V. ON!!” he says loudly. Still nothing. Bubba and his brother look at Charlie, and he has tears running down his face from trying not to laugh. He finally busts out laughing.

“Bill, you’re a fool,” Bubba’s brother says, turning to go. “You’re a fool,” Bubba repeats in his high little voice and they both leave. Poor old Bill looks at Charlie, who’s still laughing. “It was a joke,” he tells Bill and shows him how the remote control is attached to the nightstand. Bill nods a little, smiles a little, says goodnight and leaves.

The next day, Charlie is told to pack his bags. He’s been informed that his services are no longer needed on the tour. He’s really down in the mouth–this was a lucrative gig and he doesn’t know what’s up. In the midst of his packing and loading up his gear, Bill walks by the room. He pokes his head in and says “Hey Charlie, how do you like my joke?”

Moral of the Story: If you’re going to pull a prank, you might think twice about pulling it on the man who’s above you in the food chain and you better think three times about making him look the fool in front of his boss!

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3. True Bodyguard Stories #5 In the Club

I had to do most of my learning on-the-job. When I started out in this business, I was pretty much the baggage wrangler, and moved my way up through the ranks. Along my move up, I became involved in conducting advance detail duties. One of the most important things I learned is that executive protection work is based on a strong foundation of advance work. The advance team serves as the “eyes and ears” for the detail. Advance work means using a checklist to prepare for all types of scenarios.

At that time (before any formal training on advance work  was in place) it was really something that came out of developing common sense, using imagination to help visualize “worse-case-scenarios” and paying attention to intuition. I actually rather enjoyed doing advance work, because truthfully–it was time to myself when I wasn’t at the beck and call of the protectee I was protecting. It was breathing room, and a chance to look around whatever city we might be in! This is a true story about the importance of conducting thorough advance work.

My protectee was a major super star in the mid 1980s. He had a penchant for visiting nightclubs after his concerts, and it was my duty to look the place over and arrange for special seating and take note as to the layout, exits, and in-house security procedures. In this story, the club of the hour was in West Hollywood, located in the Beverly Center.

I did a walk-through with one of the club bouncers to locate back exits, restrooms, and to generally assess the safest place for my protectee to be seated. I observed that there were no metal-detectors and that these bouncers didn’t conduct any sort of pat-downs. Needless to say, this had me somewhat worried–don’t forget, this was California in the ’80s, when drive-by shootings and acts of gang violence in seemed an everyday occurrence.

Later that evening, we are all at the club–my principal is seated at his table–and his long-time friend who was a hugely popular comedian and actor shows up, and decides to sit at the adjoining table. He has his cadre of burly bodyguards on hand, as well.

The club is thumping and jumping, and everyone is having a great time when we hear a series of gunshots ring out! I look up, and see all five of the comedian’s bodyguards dive to cover their protectee, all of them in a huddle. My guys and I circle our protectee, and because I had done my advance work, hustle him out through the back kitchen exit. I had purposefully seated him near this exit, which could not be seen from inside the club. We were out and in the cars in less than a few minutes, heading down the road.

My protectee called up his comedian buddy the next day, to see how he had fared in the melee–which was how we all learned the details of what occurred after our hasty exit. Turns out, his bodyguards tried to hurry him out the front entrance, where they’d come in, which moved them all towards the shooter–who fired 2 more rounds!

There had already been mass panic–now it was complete insanity, with hundreds of people rushing to get out and away from the shooter. The comedian’s guards once again threw themselves over their protectee, and damn-near suffocated him. They were stuck in all that hysteria and chaos for 45 minutes!

The comedian asked my employer “how’d you get out of there so fast?” and  my guy said “Didn’t your people check out the club before you got there?”  Apparently they hadn’t. When the comedian realized that his bodyguards didn’t have the foresight to do any advance work, he fired every one of them.

 

Related posts:

1. True Bodyguard Stories #1 An Incident in Moscow
2. True Bodyguard Stories #3 The Mysterious Mr. Larson
3. True Bodyguard Stories

In the summer of 2006, my partner and I took on a new client; a prosecuting attorney.

She had been hired by the government, to serve as outside counsel in a trial incriminating the leader of one of the world’s largest white supremacist organizations. The trial had been ongoing for almost a year with no major interruptions, when this attorney began getting death threats at home and on internet message boards. She was even followed home from one of the hearings. My partner and I were called upon to accompany her for the final day of the trial.

With a surveillance team placed outside the courthouse, our duties were simply to provide transportation to the trial, escort our client into the courtroom, take a seat close by, and to not let her out of our sight. Pretty basic. However, at the last minute, the trial was opened to the public. Nearly 100 white supremacist supporters and fellow members of this “brotherhood” decided to show their support for the man on trial by coming into the courthouse. This was a very different scenario from the one we’d anticipated when we took this prosecuting attorney on as our client!

Most bodyguards make sure they are noticed, using their size to intimidate any would-be trouble makers. Thanks to my bald, shaved head, in this crowd of white supremacists, I went undetected as a bodyguard, and I intended to keep it that way.

As the morning proceedings began, I glanced around the room to assess my surroundings. The majority of the crowd was taking a genuine interest in the trial, with the exception of one man, who seemed to be staring at my client. He looked almost hypnotized, he was staring so hard and continuously. I was not too concerned about him being in possession of any weapons, since there had been extensive screening and searches prior to admitting anyone into the courthouse.

But I was concerned about a physical attack or the use of an object already in the room as a weapon. There are always those individuals who take the leap of faith over the small barrier to attack a defendant or lawyer, so I was on the alert. The first half of the final day of the trial came to a close, and the court was recessed for a 30 minute break. My client retreated to the prosecutor’s chambers; a small room only accessible by a small door in plain sight. Nearly all of the crowd filed out of the courtroom to the common area to get refreshments, use the phone, restrooms, etc. I asked my partner to sit tight in the courtroom, while I go out to mingle with the crowd in the common area.

In all my years as a bodyguard, there have been two things that I always kept in the back of my mind: 1) The power of a handshake, and. 2) People love the sound of their own name.

Once in the common area, I spot the man who had been staring at my client, and casually work my way over to him and extend my hand, “Hey how are yah? I’m Mike” … I introduce myself. We shake hands and he tells me his name is Jerry. “Nice to meet you, Jerry” I say. We small-talk back and forth for a couple minutes, since I’m supposed to be “one of them” I have to listen to his white supremacist comments and pretend to agree with him.

The bells chime that the trial is about to continue, and we head back to the courtroom. I notice Jerry is by himself, so I say “Jerry, why don’t you sit up with me, you can hear much better and the air conditioning vent is right above me, so it’s not as hot as the rest of the room.” Jerry complies, sitting next to me, and is thrilled that he has made a new friend so quickly. I’m thrilled because now he’s close enough for me to manage. So the next hour goes by, my new friend Jerry and I whisper some more small talk back and forth.

Then, he asks me “How many people in here do you think are undercover cops?” I reply, “Not sure, Jerry, haven’t really thought about it.” He then makes a comment that he doesn’t have the time of day for any “non-supporters,” using very colorful language, which I will not repeat. Finally, the trial comes to a close (it was adjourned for another month). It is time to say goodbye to my buddy Jerry, so I say “Well Jerry, sometimes people just have a job to do.

It’s unfortunate that you deem people to be guilty by association, but I hope after today you realize that sometimes people are impartial and are simply putting food on the table for their kids.” He stares at me confused, not quite sure what to make of what I just said. Then I stand up, shake his hand, and say “It was a pleasure to meet you Jerry, you take care.” I walk to the front of the courtroom with my partner behind me, take my client by her arm, and escort her right out of the counsel’s exit and to our waiting car.

It turned out that “Jerry” was the second in command behind the white supremacist leader who was on trial. He was also a man with an extremely violent history.

My story is a prime example of how bodyguards often are called upon to use our wits, and not our size as a deterrent. I truly believe that if I had acted as the stereotypical bodyguard, standing at the front of the court room in a suit and tie, sporting an ear piece and sunglasses, that this story might have turned out differently. Don’t be afraid to mix things up and wear a different hat. If it means pretending to be something that you’re not and saying things that you don’t believe to be true–but it ensures your client’s safety–then you’ve got to do it.

I am happy to report, by the way, that when the trial resumed a month later, it was behind closed doors.
MB

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In 2004 I had started a North European-based Bodyguard Agency with some of my friends. We all had great ambitions for the new firm, since the team was comprised of former army special services and law enforcement agents with executive protection training and bodyguard experience. My partner Steen had  trained the year before at ESI Academy in the US and we felt that we had what it takes to make it in the industry.

Four months passed, and we had only had a handful of clients, mostly short-term assignments. More “bouncer” work than “bodyguard work” Steen used to call it. We took assignments like protecting women from physically abusive husbands or boyfriends.

Landing those Executive Protection contracts was challenging, because in Europe, there are more trained bodyguards than actual jobs. But we were optimistic. Finally, in December of 2004 we got the call we where waiting for. A lawyer (let’s call him Mr. Larson) said that he was going to Rotterdam in Holland and needed Close Personal Protection for the trip. He told me that he had a meeting and a deal that he needed to close with one of his clients there. Mr. Larson said that if he liked working with us, he would consider hiring us as full-time drivers and bodyguards. Steen and I went to meet with Mr. Larson and he seemed like a nice person and we were glad to finally get some serious protection work.

Apparently, we impressed him, because the same day we took off for Holland in Mr. Larson’s brand new Audi. I drove and Steen was helping me navigate. Mr Larson was working and did not pay much attention to us. I found it odd that this man preferred to travel to Rotterdam by car, (which was a 14 hour road trip). To fly would certainly have been more expedient, but Mr. Larson insisted, and he was the client and was paying a very nice fee for our services. In Rotterdam, we slept for maybe 4 hours at a local cheap hotel before Mr. Larson informed us that we needed to dress casually and look “undercover.” He was anxious to close his deal and was very secretive about the meeting location and all details. Without any information, we were not able to do any type of advance work. Steen said “he had a bad feeling about this contract” and I was feeling the same way.

The meeting took place in a run-down area of Rotterdam in an industrial complex. A Polish man welcomed Mr. Larson and they went into a room and closed the door. I was standing outside with the Polish man’s bodyguard, and Steen was in our car.  Only five minutes later, Mr. Larson came out smiling and very happy. He said goodbye the Polish man, and told us it was time to drive home!?! On the long drive back, I didn’t know what to think about this strange assignment. It did not make any sense…and then it hit me–like a slap to the face. Mr. Larson was either himself a criminal, or representing criminal individuals. What was so special and secret about this five-minute business deal, that it required the presence of two bodyguards and a 14-hour drive in a car? Incidentally, Mr. Larson somehow managed to forget his mobile phone. There was something not right about what had just gone on.

The police called us the next day, and told us to “keep away from Larson or suffer the consequences.” Thankfully, they knew that we were in the dark as to what Larson and his associates were up to, and so there were no consequences for our unwittingly aiding who I suspect was a big criminal. That same day, Larson called us. He somehow already knew the police had been in touch with us, and offered to pay us more to work for him again!  We declined. His reply was if “you won’t someone else will…”. Those words still haunt me. I know for a fact that he hired some guys, good guys, professionals from a rival firm. I broke the code of ethics and contacted the firm and warned them that they should decline if Larson contacted them, but they took Larson as a client and called us “idiots and amateurs” behind our backs. That was fine by us. We  wanted nothing to do with risky, shady clients on the wrong side of the law.

Larson was a client with our rivals for a long time, and they made a lot of money. But something could have gone very wrong. I am sharing this story as a warning to other agencies and individual bodyguards. Stay away from clients that seem sketchy and always listen to your “gut feeling”. If it seems to good to be true, it just might be. In our haste to be successful, we didn’t follow on what our intuition was telling us, and missed one of the fundamentals in this business:  Always ask the important and difficult questions when signing a client. Certainly, they have the right to privacy and are deserving of discretion and respect. However, there is nothing wrong with looking at things with a necessary measure of doubt and suspicion. We should have taken the time to address a few suspect items with Larson: Why did a businessman/lawyer that no one really knew need two bodyguards? Why did he expect us to be armed when he knew that it is against the law in most European countries?

We Bodyguards have the right to seek answers to questions that may impact our livelihood, and in fact, our very lives.

That was a valuable lesson, and I am pleased to say that maintaining high ethical standards and asking a lot of questions has led to successful contracts with politicians, media celebrities and even landed our agency on the front page in a newspaper article about personal bodyguards. We’re patient. We’re developing our company the right way. We still protect women from violent boyfriends, and escort individuals who are afraid to go to court unprotected. It’s mostly small jobs and short term assignments, but that’s okay.

It’s not who you protect–it’s how you do it.

Be safe, and watch your back.

Sincerely

A.S Hayat

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I have been a bodyguard for over 12 years in Nigeria. My VIPs are usually former Nigerian leaders, however one of the expectations of this kind of work in Nigeria– is that you can be assigned to special duty anywhere in the world. Which is how I came to be in Sierra Leone in 1998, along with 16 other men. Our assignment: evacuate overthrown President Ahmad Tejan Kabbah from his villa, where he was held captive by the R.U.F. (Revolutionary United Front, led by Foday Sankoh.) After we were briefed by the CSO, we boarded aircraft and flew to Liberia, and when attempting to get to the Freetown airport, the R.U.F. fired on us. Amidst a good deal of shelling and gunfire, we were able finally to get to the President and evacuated him to neighboring Guinea, where he was in hiding for 3 months–and then reinstated as President.

In the end, we lost 2 bodyguards in that action, but the R.U.F. lost many more–including their leader.

Babangida Yakubu Thank you for sharing this story. It is a reminder to us all that in other parts of the world civil unrest and political climate can mean that being a “bodyguard” is more like being a “soldier,” and that the risks of the job vary widely, depending upon where you are in the world. –Harlan “Hucky” Austin

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