Revenger

21

Mark Adams got back onstage and faced the crowd. Many of the seats were empty now, and the gangways were packed with people uncertain what to do next. His head of personal security was screaming at him, ‘You’ve got to get out of here — now! There’s a car waiting. Come on. Get out. Go!’

Adams ignored him. He knew he had a few seconds in which to find the right words to get everyone back in their places. If he could do that, if he could somehow get the show back on the rails, this might still be remembered for all the right reasons. ‘No!’ he snapped, and physically shoved the other man away from him. ‘I came here to give a speech, and I’m bloody well going to give it.’

A murmur went through the crowd. There were a few isolated cheers and shouts of encouragement, but nothing like the mass excitement that had been there just a minute or two beforehand.

Adams took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, aware that all his gestures were still being captured by the cameras and shown on the video screens. Then he opened his eyes again, nodded to himself and looked back out at the arena. He had to keep this very simple: direct words that would make sense to scrambled minds and senses.

‘Don’t worry. It’s all right.’ A rueful smile. ‘I’ve been shot at often enough. I’m used to it. And I’m not going anywhere.’

He could feel the atmosphere change a fraction. They were a little calmer. Another smile and a polite enquiry: ‘So… is everyone all right out there?’

There was a feeble, ragged response — no more than a smattering of assent.

Now Adams smiled like an indulgent father faced with a recalcitrant child. ‘Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Is everyone all right?’

This time the ‘Yes!’ that came back at him was just a little louder.

‘Do you want to hear what I have to say?’

‘Yes!’

‘Do you want me to carry on?’

The energy was coming back to them now: there were cheers and whistles as well as shouts of, ‘Yes!’

Adams was grinning now and there was a touch of pantomime knowingness as he asked, ‘Are you sure about that?’ And then, ‘I can’t hear you… I said: “Are you sure about that?”’

Now the noise was back and the hall was rocking again.

‘All right… that’s better,’ Adams said. Like all great performers he had made his audience feel that they were part of the show, so that they were cheering themselves now as much as him. For the next couple of minutes he coaxed them all back to their seats, picking out individual members of the audience, stopping for a joke or a quick chat, sealing the bond between him and them. Finally, when everyone was settled, he said, ‘Right then, we’ve got a job to do — all of us — so let me tell you just what it is.’