Pssst…!

Over here!

Camera pans to a dark corner of the dank D.C. underground parking lot.

Past the Lexii and Merks stands a lone figure, seen through the gray smoke of his cigarette only by the silhouette of his fedora.

Cautiously, Golberg approaches.

He know that dangers of Washington.

It’s sprung!

The stranger speaks:

Check out page 130…

Goldberg can feel the world change on the back of his damp, gritty neck.

He hears it over and over again.

Check out page 130…

He can’t shake the image. He can’t shake the horror that he might have just missed…

Page 130.