7th July
Harrison Springer squeezed the trigger of his gun: there was a muted bang, muffled by the silencer.
The weapon that his target had fired at Harrison, in defence, had produced no noise, although Harrison had felt a prick on his arm.
Harrison observed his target fall backwards onto the bed. The bullet had gone through his forehead.
He glanced at his own arm and noted a small amount of blood. On the floor beside him was a dart that had obviously caused that minor injury.
He should have kept a proper weapon, thought Harrison as he left the house by the back door and began to walk the three blocks to where he had left his car.
Harrison’s car was parked by the Potomac. He walked to the river and dropped his gun into the fast flowing water.
During the past few minutes, he had been feeling light-headed.
As he sat down in the driver’s seat of his car he began to feel sick, and his vision became blurred.
Looking at the pin prick on his arm was his last ever action.
He wondered what toxin might have been in the dart that had struck him.
That was his last ever thought.