“Something to do with the airship,” said Howard. Both men heard a Secret Service agent report that he’d just killed a sniper in an office block overlooking the stadium. Clutesi’s jaw dropped. “It’s happening,” he said in disbelief.

The sky-box window exploded in a shower of glass. The guests began screaming as Secret Service agents rushed forward to protect the President. Clutesi’s eyes were wide and he looked at Howard for guidance. Bob Sanger could be heard shouting above the screams and weapons appeared as if by magic in the hands of the agents as they surrounded the President. They hustled him away from the window, several positioning themselves between his body and the outside.

A warm wind blew in through the shattered window, and down below Howard could see Joker continuing to run, his plaid jacket flapping behind him. To Howard it appeared as if the man was running in slow motion. Howard looked up and squinted at the airship hanging over the city. His mind flashed back to Andy Kim’s computer model. The long shot. “The airship,” he whispered. “There’s a sniper in the airship.”

On the mound, the ball left the Prime Minister’s hand.

Kelly cradled Mary’s head in her lap. Mary’s eyes were wide open but they didn’t seem to be focusing. Blood was bubbling from a fist-sized hole in her chest. Kelly felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at the two Secret Service agents.

“Leave her alone,” she spat. “Can’t you see she’s dead?”

Mary’s hand clutched at Kelly’s arm and the fingers gripped tight. Her mouth moved soundlessly, her eyes still unseeing. Kelly bent forward and put her ear close to Mary’s lips.

Joker continued to count in his head as he ran. Individual, disparate images filled his head: a Secret Service agent, his mouth wide open, staring up at the sky box, a finger against his earpiece; the catcher, reaching out with his gloved hand, smiling behind his mask; the Prime Minister, looking ill at ease, his hair untidy from the effort of pitching; the First Lady, a wide smile on her face. Two thousand yards. Four seconds. An almost impossible shot under normal circumstances, but according to Howard they were up against a sniper who could pull it off. He heard glass smash somewhere behind him, somewhere high. Joker’s heart felt as if it was bursting and his ankles were screaming in agony as they pounded into the ground. There was no time to shout a warning, no time to explain what was happening, There was only one thing he could do. One thousand and two . . .

Cole Howard dashed over to Bob Sanger and grabbed his shoulder. “The Prime Minister’s a target, too. It’s a double hit!” he shouted. Howard’s spittle peppered the Secret Service agent’s face.

For a second, Sanger was too surprised to react, but then the words sank in and he reached for his radio. “Get Parliament off the mound!” he ordered. “Now.” The Secret Service agents had completely surrounded the President and were hustling him out of the sky box, their weapons held high.