Foster dived to grab her and stop her neck from snapping as the rope went taut. He managed to clasp her bicep with his left hand, but her weight wrenched his injured arm. The strain pulled at the scar tissue, bending and twisting the titanium plates screwed to the remains of his bones. Keller’s legs scrabbled in vain as she dangled in front of the scoreboard. Foster reached over with his right arm to pull her to safety, but Saunders lunged at him with the knife. Foster only just managed to turn back in time to deflect the blade and push Saunders away.

He knew he couldn’t hold onto Keller and hold off Saunders. White light sparked across his vision and the air fled from his lungs in a gasp of agony. Saunders was keeping low enough behind the barrier to avoid the marksmen’s laser dots, which were dancing around the players’ box, and resolutely held onto the rope in his hand. Foster’s arm was failing, and he could feel Kirsten slipping further into the noose.

He looked into Saunders’ vicious eyes. The same eyes Keller had seen flash with hatred from within the crowd of fans after the semi-final. The same eyes that had watched Maria Rosario die. As Saunders launched at him again, Foster used his free arm to swing the heaviest punch he could muster at the guy’s eye socket. The punch connected and threw Saunders backwards, just far enough that the marksmen were able to finally fix their red dots on his body. Three of them hit. Two bore deep holes in his chest. The third caved in his head and instantly matted his hair with grey and red.

Foster was still holding onto Keller’s arm, his shoulder slowly being pulled out of its socket. There was a good chance it was already out, but he was beyond differentiating one pain from another. Then he heard Abbot’s voice down below.

‘Let her go, Chris. I’ve got her.’

He opened his fist and felt Keller’s arm slide through his hand as she fell. He guessed the drop was a couple of yards, and he trusted Abbot to catch her. He heard her scream and then heard Abbot reassuring her, and was aware of his own harsh breathing for the first time since he’d chased after Noah Saunders. He rolled back over the barrier, falling in a heap onto the concrete floor.

He lay on his back for a long moment and looked up at the steel rafters and let out an exhausted primal scream. It was a cacophony of agony, relief and delirious pleasure that it was over, and that they were all still alive.

CHAPTER 28

THE POLICE INTERVIEWED them all night, Foster helping them to piece together what had happened with the murder of Maria Rosario.