Chapman slipped the polarizing cover over the distal end of the scope. He wanted no flash of reflected light to alert the dense squadrons of military security at the City Hall ceremony. Chapman sat cross-legged behind the north-northwest notch in the parapet. Resting the bipod in the space and leaning his left shoulder against the cool concrete wall, he sighted and focused on the central microphone of the lectern. With skilled and steady hands he could read the brand (Shure) and almost the serial number engraved on the microphone. Prime Minister McMasters had taken the stage and was seated with other officials. Any shot would thread close to nearby buildings, but this would not impede Chapman in any respect. He could take his shot now, with the Prime Minister seated, or after awhile, speaking at the podium.
Why wait for something to go wrong? thought Chapman. Any perceived threat - firecrackers in Donegall Square, anything - could generate a flurry of activity. Duck and cover maneuvers would hide the Prime Minister and cancel the day's activities - opportunity lost! Special Operations officers would spread out in routines honed after decades of the "troubles" and with an expertise unrivaled globally. Why take the chance?
Chapman straightened his spine and balanced the AS50 on the bipod support. He tweaked the focus on the scope and played a game with himself - left eye or right? Left, he decided, and squeezed the trigger. The reports bounced off buildings left and right. The sound could have come from anywhere, witnesses near Linenhall and Clarence would later confirm to authorities. Some would swear the shots rang from one direction; others swore they came from another.
The sounds of the shots were not noticed at the portico stage of City Hall; but McMasters' head exploding, that was noticed. It was like stomping an ant hill. Save the eggs! Everyone in the densely packed intersection of Linenhall Street and Donegall Square South was moving, running, scanning, directing, cowering, and generally doing so noisily and hysterically.
Chapman calmly packed the AS50 in its case, rolled smartly over the eastern edge of the circular parapet, slid the short distance down the sloping roof to the flat landing, then slid the remainder of the way down the next sloping section.
