Eight of the terrorists – T1, T3, T6, T7, T11, T12, T14 and T16 – were wearing black padded vests. They were obviously stuffed with explosives: Max saw an orange-coloured plastic substance emerging from some of the pouches, and the vests themselves were a tangle of wires.

He knew what they were: suicide vests.

His eyes moved from the vests to the dining hall at large. He saw more wires. They were tied from wall to wall. Where they criss-crossed the hall they were above everybody’s heads. Where they snaked around the perimeter they were loose on the floor. At intervals along the two side walls the wires fed into rough packages on the ground. Each of these packages was about the size of a football. They comprised more of the orange plastic explosive, wrapped up in duct tape. Each package had a narrow cylinder of metal inserted into the explosive and connected to the wires. Max knew that these were detonators. The packages were improvised explosive devices. Bombs. The entire dining room was rigged to blow up. He counted six devices in all. If they went off, it would be a bloodbath.

He blinked at the devices, then looked back at the suicide vests. A horrifying thought occurred to him. What if the terrorists only intended for this to siege to finish one way? What if they had no intention of leaving anybody in the school alive, and every intention of taking the hostages with them when they went? What if they wanted a rescue team to rush in, so they could explode the devices, kill more people and gain more attention for their cause? That could explain why it had been so easy to enter the school grounds.

He had to warn Hector.

The nearest gunman, T6, was about fifteen metres away. Max reckoned that, if he bowed his head, he could speak quietly without being noticed. ‘It’s Max,’ he murmured. ‘I’m in –’

Before he could say more, he was interrupted. The gunman on the stage – T1 – spoke out loudly. He had a strong accent – Chechen, Max supposed – but his English was good. Max could hear him clearly. ‘Maybe some more of you would like to try to escape, like these idiots,’ he announced.

A breathless hush descended on the hall. There was still the sound of crying from the younger ones, but it was clear everyone was listening.

‘I will show you what happens when you try to do that,’ the gunman said.

– What’s going on? Hector’s voice was urgent over the comms, but Max couldn’t reply. T6 had walked towards him and was well within earshot.

T1 looked along the line of recruits on their knees, pointing at each of them with his MP5, as if choosing one. They all looked straight ahead, not wanting to catch his eye. The barrel of the MP5 finally rested on Jack.

‘You,’ the gunman said. ‘Stand up.’