But there was one flaw with that plan: Mansour would not be running towards him.

Romeo had no time to even raise his weapon as Mansour took a sudden turn to his left and ran inside a building he was sure Romeo had not noticed among the long line of outlets on the High Street.

Stoke Newington Police Station.

There were two officers, one civilian police worker and one member of the public in the desk area of the station. All turned as Mansour burst through the door, struggling for breath.

‘Sir, do you need help?’

The speaker was the senior of the two officers. The desk sergeant. As he spoke, he indicated for the other officer – a constable – to assist the bleeding man.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I . . . I need confess . . .’ Mansour was struggling to spit out the words as his heart rate and blood pressure spiked. ‘I need confess.’

‘To what?’ The desk sergeant’s mood had changed. He seemed to take in Mansour’s injuries with concern. ‘What have you done?’

‘Flight . . . Flight PA16,’ Mansour gasped. ‘It was me. I planted the bomb.’

TEN

Dale Victor was one of four people occupying the sofa on screen, but he might as well have been on there alone. The news show’s three-person hosting team was huddled together on the right side of the couch, while Victor held the left and with it the room.

Dempsey had not watched the original broadcast but even now, as he watched the recording, he could not help but be impressed. He had had no time for Dale Victor’s politics and even less for what he had seen as the man’s bullying tactics. But he had to admit, Victor had commanded attention.

From every camera angle, attention was somehow drawn to him. Every pair of eyes fixed.

The show itself was one of the cable news network’s biggest hitters. And so its three hosts were well used to important guests. Hell, President John Knowles himself had appeared six times since taking office. The journalists’ reputations were fearsome, but even they seemed to shrink – to fawn – next to Victor.

For the last fifteen minutes it had been very much Victor’s show. An endless opportunity for the man to criticise not only the current American government but every alternative there was to it, other than himself, including the other potential Republican candidates.

Not that any of them were presenting much of a challenge to Victor. At the time of the recording, he was polling at fifty-eight per cent. New York State Governor David Smart and Texas Senator Chris White were a distant second and third respectively, their combined votes less than half Victor’s total. Even the riskiest Vegas casinos had become hesitant to take bets on his nomination, giving odds that made a gamble pointless. It had seemed inevitable.

And yet now it was impossible.

Following the Pan-Atlantic Airlines press conference in the UK less than an hour ago, the world now knew of the death of Dale Victor. The result of that news was blanket coverage across all major networks and a succession of hastily thrown together tributes to a life that had been too large for them to do it justice.