‘I can’t tell. Hope’s down, but…’

‘I fucking told you!’ Gavin was pushing himself up from the rifle. ‘She’s wasted.’

‘…it doesn’t look like she’s hurt. She’s crawling across to… oh fuck!’

Silva dashed in from the balcony. She moved to the video monitor. The dim image showed Karen Hope on her hands and knees. One Secret Service agent crouched with a weapon drawn covering the water, while the second was bending over Lashirah Haddad, first placing a hand on her neck, then moving to her chest.

A succession of rockets climbed higher and higher into the sky, each exploding brighter and louder than the last. Once more a shimmering rain cascaded down and it looked for a moment as if both the sky and the sea were on fire. There was a final tremendous bang and the last firework poured golden sparks down on the still black water.

Silence. A brief smattering of cheering and applause from around the bay. And then, from far, far across the water, the sound of a young child screaming.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Itchy came in from the balcony. He shut the doors, closed the shutters and pulled the curtains across. Then he crossed the room and reached for the light switch.

‘You fucking idiot.’ He strode over to where Gavin stood next to Silva staring at the monitor. ‘What are you going to tell Mr Fairchild now?’

‘He told me it was important to take the shot.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Whatever the consequences.’

Silva was trying to make sense of the image on the monitor. Lashirah Haddad lay unmoving on her back with an agent hunched over her. The Hopes and the other guests had retreated inside the villa.

‘Is she dead?’ Itchy said.

‘I don’t know,’ Silva said. ‘Looks as if she was hit somewhere in the chest. The bullet would have passed through her body. I guess it depends if it missed her heart or not.’

‘They think the shot came from the water.’ Itchy jabbed a finger at the screen. ‘Look at the way the other agent is hunkered down.’

The second man had a weapon drawn and was keeping low behind the terrace wall. The wall provided cover from somebody shooting from the sea, but their own position was at an angle to the side and higher up.

‘Small mercies.’ Gavin shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I just wanted to get the job done.’

‘Well you’ve done the job now, mate.’ Itchy bent and picked up the pistol. ‘Name me one reason why I shouldn’t pop you?’

‘Put the gun away, Itchy,’ Silva said. ‘We need to work together to get out of this, OK?’

‘She’s right.’ Gavin gestured at the sniper rifle and boxes of kit. ‘We need to stick to the plan and make our getaway before the cops decide on a house-to-house.’