Carlos blinked several times, trying to refocus his eyes. He saw the man in the plaid jacket spread-eagled on the mound, a Secret Service agent kneeling by his side. More agents were surrounding the First Lady, guns drawn, looking around to see where the shot had come from. The Prime Minister, surrounded by bodyguards, was being hustled to the tunnel. Carlos put the rifle back to his shoulder and aimed at the tunnel, hoping that he’d be able to get a clear shot. He found the group with his scope but he couldn’t pick out the Prime Minister. Carlos put down his rifle. “Mary, what’s happening?” he said into the microphone on his lapel. There was no reply. “Mary?” Still nothing.

“Sniper Three, is that you?” asked Lovell. “What’s happening?”

Cole Howard gasped as he saw Joker leap and throw himself at the Prime Minister. His first thought was that the Brit was trying to tackle the man and bring him down, but at the last moment he twisted, like a high jumper going over backwards. Howard saw his arms flail out, then his whole body convulsed as if he’d received an electric shock.

Howard looked over at Bob Sanger, who was still talking into his walkie-talkie. He turned to Don Clutesi, who was staring open-mouthed at the diamond, where the Prime Minister was being engulfed by bodyguards. One of the Secret Service agents, a gun in his hand, knelt over Joker and opened his shirt collar. Howard gripped Clutesi’s arm. “I’m going down,” Howard said urgently. “Tell Sanger to get a chopper to pick me up.”

“A chopper?” said Clutesi. “Why?”

“Just do it, Don,” said Howard. He ran to the door, throwing his binoculars to the ground.

Rich Lovell had the back of a head in his sights, but he had no way of knowing whether or not it was the Prime Minister. Carlos had told him to keep firing, but Lovell knew it was useless. His target was four seconds away, and running from him. Even if the Prime Minister hadn’t been surrounded by bodyguards, there was no way he could predict where anyone would be four seconds into the future.

“What’s happening?” screamed Matthew Bailey as he squatted by the laser sight.

“I missed,” said Lovell. “I don’t know how, but I missed.”

“What do you mean, you missed?”

Lovell looked up. “I had him in my sights, and I fired, and then at the last moment someone got in the way.”

“You mean one of his bodyguards walked into the bullet?”

Lovell shook his head. “No, some guy threw himself at the Prime Minister. The bullet got him in the chest, dead centre. Now everyone’s running off the field. I can’t get a clear shot.” He put his rifle back to his shoulder. The bodyguards had disappeared into the safety of the tunnel.

“Can you fire again?” Bailey asked.

“No,” said Lovell.

“What about Carlos and Schoelen? Have they fired?”

“I don’t know,” said Lovell.