Itchy was correct. Two men in suits emerged onto the terrace. Silva could see one wore a black earpiece, a slender wire curling down inside the man’s jacket.

‘Secret Service,’ Itchy said. ‘Bodyguards for the future president.’

‘We’re out of here,’ Silva said. She pushed herself back from the rifle. ‘This is way too risky now.’

‘Well if you won’t take the shot, I fucking will.’

A click came from behind her.

‘Easy, Gav, easy.’ Itchy’s voice was low and steady. ‘Let’s not do anything hasty, hey?’

Silva rolled on her side. Gavin stood with his right arm outstretched, his hand wrapped round a small automatic pistol, the gunmetal glinting with every flash of the pyrotechnics.

‘Move away from the rifle.’ Gavin waved the gun. ‘You and Itchy get out on the balcony and stand to one side. If you try to stop me I’ll shoot you.’

Itchy looked at Silva. Their only weapon was the rifle but there was no way that could be used in a confined space. Silva pushed herself to her feet, stepped through the curtains and walked out onto the balcony. Itchy followed.

‘Good.’ Gavin moved forward and lowered his bulk to the floor behind the rifle. ‘Now, then…’

‘You’re crazy, mate,’ Itchy said. ‘Silva’s got an Olympic medal, years of experience, is one of the best shots in the world, and yet this is an extremely tough one, even for her. You haven’t got a fucking chance.’

‘Itchy’s right,’ Silva said. ‘I’d say the odds of hitting Karen Hope with my first shot were no better than fifty-fifty.’

‘We’ll see, I’m not a bad shot myself.’ Gavin lowered his head to the optics. He was breathing heavily, his posture tensed, and he was simply the wrong build to lie comfortably behind the rifle. ‘And if I don’t hit first time, I’ll take another, right?’

Wrong, Silva thought. The L115A3 had a five-shot magazine and she’d placed a spare mag close by. However, the rifle had a bolt action. After each shot the chamber had to be manually reset. Doing that and maintaining any sort of accuracy over a distance of over a thousand metres was difficult, even for her. For Gavin it would be impossible.

For a moment she considered rushing Gavin. She could see by Itchy’s stance he had the same idea. But Gavin had placed his handgun within easy reach and he’d be able to shoot one or both of them before they got anywhere near him.

‘Bingo! Lashirah’s taken the lad. She’s moving away.’ Gavin’s hands tightened on the rifle and a deafening crack came a moment after.

‘Christ!’ Itchy said, swinging the binoculars up to his eyes.

‘I got Hope, I’m sure I got her!’

‘Itchy?’ Silva strained her eyes to see across the water. The terrace was just a tiny blur of light. ‘Sit rep?’