Astrid took a step towards Callanach, leaving her back exposed and Ava behind her. It was the best chance Ava was going to get. She rushed forwards, grabbing Astrid. Pushing her thumb as hard as she could into the tendons in the back of Astrid’s hand and forcing her to relax the fist partially, Ava wrapped her own hand over the newly exposed section of the grenade, wrestling Astrid for control of it. Callanach was up in a second, on his knees on the bed, gun levelled at Astrid’s face.

‘Astrid, let Ava take the grenade,’ he ordered.

Astrid laughed, hurling the mobile into Callanach’s face and freeing her second hand, then grabbing Ava’s wrist to force her off the grenade.

‘I will shoot,’ Callanach shouted.

‘I killed for you!’ Astrid screamed back.

Ava elbowed her in the base of the throat and Astrid choked, her knees buckling, twisting towards the window seat. Getting a knee onto the window seat, giving her better purchase to pull the grenade from Astrid’s hands, Ava yanked as hard as she could.

There was a moment of silence. The grenade floated into the air, a gracefully spinning ovoid. They watched as one, Ava’s eyes the first to return to Astrid’s hand, where the pin remained fixed around her thumb like a Christmas cracker trinket, ill-fitting and ridiculous without its counterpart. Then Astrid was jumping for it, with Ava reaching both hands out for the live bomb, as Callanach threw down the gun, scrambling to launch himself off the bed. Ava got to it first.

‘Window!’ Ava screamed at him.

Callanach shoved the slightly open frame, thrusting it completely upwards, leaving a big enough target for Ava not to miss. As she was aiming, Astrid thrust a knee into base of Ava’s ribcage, folding her double. Astrid grabbed the grenade back again from Ava’s hand, clutching it to her chest.

‘At least I can die with you,’ Astrid gushed, staring into Callanach’s wide eyes.

Ava lurched forwards, grabbing Astrid from behind at the knees with her left arm and pushing her at the hips with her right – a carefully directed rugby tackle – which left Astrid falling head first across the window seat. Ava kept her own knees bent, using every bit of her weight to push Astrid up across the seat and out of the window, keeping her grip, following through.

‘No …’ Astrid’s scream sliced the night air.

Callanach’s own cry followed as he threw his body weight on top of Ava’s on the window seat, reaching out to jam himself across the frame.

Ava tried to hold Astrid. She tried with every ounce of strength she had. But her grip was one-armed – the other was half tangled in its sling and weakened to the point of uselessness.