Nick Carter #234, Dragonfire,
Jove 0-515-09444-7, 1988
Carter started to leap out of bed for his weapons on the bureau, but he was far too late.
Two figures dressed in dark clothing, black ski masks covering their faces, had burst into his room. He got the momentary impression of a large, oddly shaped handgun, the sound of a soft pop, and something hot and sharp stung his bare chest.
He looked down to see a dart sticking into his skin just above his right nipple, and he tried to reach for it with fingers suddenly too large, and the dart and his chest began to recede faster and faster . . . .