As he began to rise towards the Huey and its thudding rotor blades, Howard looked down on the huge airship below him. The rotor wash was flattening down the top of the blimp. It looked solid enough to walk on, but Howard knew it was an illusion. The airship was heading towards the inner harbour, away from the tower blocks. From below, the sounds of emergency sirens drifted up as fire engines and ambulances rushed towards the burning police helicopter. Howard had watched in horror as the crippled chopper had spun to the ground, knowing that he was powerless to help. He’d realised that the sniper must have been on the opposite side of the gondola so he had signalled to the crewman that he wanted to go down. When Howard had dropped level with the gondola he’d had the chance of shooting the sniper in the back, but he’d waited. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d wanted the man to have a chance, or if it was because he wanted to see the face of the man he was about to kill. Whatever the reason, he’d seen the look of surprise on the man’s face before pressing the trigger of the Uzi.

Howard was turning slowly as he was winched up and he saw the second National Guard Huey hovering a few hundred yards away. When Howard drew level with the open door the crewman leant out and grabbed the line. Howard fumbled with his feet and found the skid, and then sat down heavily on the metal floor. He gestured to the crewman to give him a headset so that he could speak to the pilot.

“There are three men, I got one,” said Howard. “They might be willing to land now. Can you talk to them?”

“I can try,” said the pilot. Howard heard the pilot request the airship pilot to descend, but he was ignored. The pilot repeated his commands several times, but there was no response.

“He might not have the radio switched on,” the pilot said to Howard.

“Or he might just be ignoring us,” said the Secret Service agent. “Why don’t we riddle the thing with bullets? It’ll land eventually. We can just follow them down.”

“What if they’ve got parachutes?” said the SWAT sniper. “They could be heading for a drop zone.”

Howard nodded. The sniper had a point. Also, they’d brought down a police helicopter and probably killed the occupants. Howard doubted that they’d give up easily. “I’ve an idea,” he said to the pilot. “Can you get the other chopper to fly on the opposite side of the blimp as a distraction. Tell them to be careful, though.”

“Sure,” said the pilot.

Patrick Farrell looked over his shoulder at the three bodies in the back of the gondola. Bits of glass were still falling from the window frame and wind was roaring through. “Oh sweet Jesus, now what the fuck do we do?” His hands were trembling on the controls. “Matthew, what do we do?”