COMA

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COMA




VR. PARK


Member of International
Thriller Writers, Inc.



Copyright WR.PARK 2016



Published by DigiTerra
Publishing


vww.blackrosewriting.com/digiterra-publishing/




2016 by WR.PARK

All rights reserved. No part of this
book may be reproduced, stored in a

retrieval system
or transmitted in any form or by any means
without the
prior
written permission of the publishers, except by a
reviewer who may
q
uote brief passages in a review to be printed in
a newspaper, magazine




or journal.
The
final approval for this literary material is
granted by the author. First

digital versionAll characters
appearing in this work are fictitious. Any

e
semblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.


PUBLISHED BY
DIGITERRA PUBLISHING

Pri
nt edition produced in the United States of
America



Table of Contents




Title Page




Copyright
3




PROLOGUE




SEVEN




EIGHT




NINE




TEN




ELEVEN




TWELVE




THIRTEEN




FOURTEEN




FIFTEEN




SIXTEEN

PROLOGUE

A DARK MOVING SHADOW,
masked in shades cast by Washington D.C.s

high-rise buildings,
stopped and grinned in satisfaction. His grin
widened as
his thoughts
wandered to the task ahead. Considering what he
had in mind,
he found the
hotels address of 999 Ninth Street to be quite
ironicplus the
fact it
was Halloween. Earlier that day, dressed as a
city electrician, he had
re
moved the working light bulbs over the service
entrance to the
Renaissance
Hotel and replaced them with burnt-out bulbs. At
nine oclock in
the
evening, the alleyway was shrouded in darkness.
Dressed all in black, the
f
igure with a long-strapped canvas sack slung over
his neck and shoulder with

a smaller bag clipped to a belt, narrowed his
eves as a tiny red glow caught

his attention. In the right place at the
wrong thue, a smoker stood outside

the entrance door sucking
deeply on a cigarette. A brick wedged between the

door and jam allowed a
thin sliver of light to escape. Black crepe-soled
shoes
walked softly and
silently toward the unsuspecting victim whose
back faced
the stalker.
One quick twist of the head and the hotel
employee died with the
4

sound of a small birds
chirp. He lifted the body as if it were a bag of
feathers
and deposited it
into a large trash bin.
As
any assassin worth his pound-of-flesh knows,
before vou do anything, vou

learn all your targets schedules and habits
where they are at any time of the

day and weekwhat they
like to eattravel routes who they associate

withand in this case,
where would they be tonight and with whom? His

three targets met every
Thursday in the same hotel and in the saine
reserved
suiteand with
the same group of lobbyists.

Guests ahvavs left precisely at nine. His
targets spent the next two hours

having final cocktails and discussing the
opportunities offered them that

night. He had plenty of
time to enjoy the evenings planned festivity.
Another
convenient
habitthe targets always left the French doors
open to clear the
room of
cigar smokeeven if it was raining. Patiently, he
had watched,
clocked, and
recorded their every move for the past two
months. The time
was
right, and he could hardly contain his
enthusiasm. He was born for such

an evening. Opening the
service door but not entering, his hand groped
the
wall for the light
switch.


End of
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