Liquid Grenades: Experimental Convulsor Delivery System

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Xenal Pharma is waiting for you!

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Drug company Xenal from Killer Drug is hiring!

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And if you've read Killer Drug, you are forewarned.

The Mayan Sacrifice.

She screamed, high and loud; an anguished last cry for help. Strong hands pushed her down on the hot rock and she tried to wring herself free. She couldn’t. One man held her right arm in a painful grip; another held her left arm, a third man sat on her right leg and the fourth held her left leg in an iron grasp.

The man with the drum increased the tempo.

Boom, boom, boom.

The noise made her sick and the hot stone almost fried her back. She screamed out loud again, asking for mercy, for pity, and for help.

Then, the medicine man stepped forward and tore off the small piece of cloth that covered her. She cringed and wriggled, but to no avail. She finally lay there, stark naked, except for her blue body paint. The two men holding her arms stretched them up and out as far as they could and the men holding her legs did the same. Utter terror filled her mind, she tried to struggle, but was no match against the overpowering muscles of four men.

Now they are going to do it, rape me or kill me or both . . .

A shadow abruptly covered her face as one man bent forward and pulled a noose over her head and tightened it around her neck. With a rapid twist the man fastened the noose by pulling it down through a hole in the rock below her head, which forced her neck back and down, until she was looking at the sunset upside down. She shrieked again, but her screams were masked by the rapidly beating drum.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

She heard more footsteps approaching and then suddenly cold water poured over her naked body. Each drop felt as cold as ice and stung her skin. She gulped as water streamed down her face and sizzled when it hit the hot stone.

Then the drum stopped beating and she felt the sharp edge of a knife against her chest. This is it.


From Killer Drug, by Peter Rost.

The air gun.

When the light turned green Papadimitriou shrugged and gunned the BMW. The truck roared its engine and cut in behind him. Papadimitriou didn’t have any way of seeing that the young man in back had stood up and now leaned forward, steadying his elbows against the cab roof. In his hands he aimed a gleaming, chrome air gun.

What happened next was a complete surprise to Papadimitriou. He felt a horrifyingly painful sting at the nape of his neck. He smacked at whatever had caused the pain and felt something feathery fall down along the back of his spine. Papadimitriou’s little Beamer swerved dangerously back and forth as he tried to get rid of the object that had caused such a throbbing twinge. All he could sense with his hand was a small bump below his hairline.

***

Multiple spasms ripped through Papadimitriou’s body, and his body didn’t obey any of the commands from his brain. As the BMW flew off the roadway, Papadimitriou felt his eyes nearly popping out of his head. The pretty little BMW carried his incapacitated body up into the sky as if it had been thrust into the heavens by a gigantic slingshot.

His eyes fixed on the gush of bright red and purple mixed into the gray sky. A sliver of gold appeared, as the sun’s last rays worked their way through the edges of the clouds that were layered onto the horizon like soft cotton balls cushioning fragile leaves of gold parchment. The source of this kaleidoscope of colors was no longer visible, only the reflections left behind.

Papadimitriou floated in the air, his vehicle suspended between heaven and earth. He experienced an illusion of weightlessness that was as close as any human could ever come to this exhilarating feeling without leaving the earthly atmosphere. The only constraint that denied his body the right to float freely was his tightly fastened seat belt.

From Killer Drug, by Peter Rost.

The canister in Jennifer's room.

The first man opened the air conditioning vent and placed a small metal canister with a trigger mechanism inside the duct. The canister looked like a large hairspray bottle from the 60s. Attached to it were a light sensor and a small radio transmitter with a battery.

He whispered in an ancient, indigenous language. “I’m activating this thing. Turn off all the lights. We don’t want this going off too early.”

***

She stood and turned on the light in the bathroom. It wasn’t very bright, but it lit up the bedroom and some of the light also fell on the air conditioning vent. The room felt hot. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t cooling too well. She cranked it up to maximum, using the digital dial on the wall.

The cold air came rushing in and created thin vapors at the exhaust vent. Hidden deep inside the air conditioning vent sat the small metallic container. The light triggered a simple photocell and a clear mist sprayed from the pressurized metal container. At the same time, the radio transmitters sent a signal to a group of very anxious men not far away. They had cursed that Jennifer had brought a man to her room, but they’d waited patiently. Now they’d only have to wait another half hour and everyone in the room would be deeply sedated.

From Killer Drug, by Peter Rost.

What happened to Jennifer Klum, when she disappeared from Ritz-Carlton Cancun?

He walked over to the terrace and slid open the heavy glass door. The wet heat pummeled his body and he was reminded that his jeans would have to come off right away if he were going to survive outside. He looked down onto the snow-white beach and the well-manicured recreation area.

Blue umbrellas dotted the area around the outdoor restaurant; several amoeba-shaped swimming pools covered the rest of the grounds.

Weatherworn permanent cabanas that resembled straw huts lined the beach.

The view was finished off by hundreds of pink-skinned doctors lounging, drinking, swimming, and ensuring that they’d be in perfect shape for their upcoming scientific meeting.

Among the people a very graceful woman stood out, reminding Alex of a swan who looked like she didn’t quite belong among all these ducks. Jennifer Klum moved along the beach greeting doctors, quite oblivious to the attention she received.

Deep in thought, he went back inside and closed the door behind him.

What else could go so right—or so wrong? He knew his mind was messed up and he wasn’t feeling anything like his old self. Not by a long shot. That was a combination that could lead him into trouble.

From Killer Drug, by Peter Rost.

The blue woman.

"I won’t give the plot away, but in brief, there are shenanigans going in the top echelons of a drug company, and the novel’s protagonist, Alex McGraw, ends up finding out the shady stuff and blows the whistle. People start disappearing. Human chess pieces move and counter-move, and some end up out of play. Oh, and one lady gets painted blue."

- Steve Woodruff.

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Why was a woman abducted in Cancun and painted blue?

And what do humming bird feathers have to do with all this?

This is what Steve Woodruff wrote in his review: "I won’t give the plot away, but in brief, there are shenanigans going in the top echelons of a drug company, and the novel’s protagonist, Alex McGraw, ends up finding out the shady stuff and blows the whistle. People start disappearing. Human chess pieces move and counter-move, and some end up out of play. Oh, and one lady gets painted blue."

Want to know why the lady was painted blue and what happened to her?

Download the first five chapers of Killer Drug free, right here!

Ed Stackler in his revew called it "A stand-out thriller fueled by real experience."

"For readers who love escapist thrillers as I do, this novel delivers a fluid, fast-paced ride that outdoes virtually all its "financial thriller" competition.

"But what makes the novel truly exceptional is that -- like most great fiction -- it's rooted in real-life experience. Like his novel's protagonist, Peter Rost blew the whistle at a major pharmaceutical company (actually, at two of them). Without that experience, no author could do what Rost does -- make his own hero's whistleblowing journey a visceral and emotionally charged journey where the stakes are unimaginably high."