He touches two fingers to the side of the King's neck.
'Dead,' he says, gravely.
Gasps throughout the palace. The Queen
slumps and is carried away.
Rising, John licks the tip of a digit. 'No trace of poison.
This assassin was direct.' He straightens his hat,
then climbs out of the blast crater,
through the mulch of King Sihamoni's legs.
He sparks a cigarette. 'Don't worry Prime Minister.
I'll get those bastards yet.'