What they do is quietly to approach their prey and then deliver an unexpected bite, not necessarily a serious one. The victim typically flees to somewhere it can lie low and lick its wound. Unfortunately its ordeal has only just begun for within a matter of a few hours, a terrible infection will have begun to take hold. The stealthy komodo meanwhile, with the keenest of nostrils, has been tracking the injured prey, and attracted by the scent of physical corruption, when assured that its prospective meal is sufficiently weakened, makes its move.
Komodo dragons bide their time. They follow the whiff of rottenness. They do not give up because they know their moment will come. When they are satisfied that the time is right, so as to minimise any possible risk to themselves, they move in and overwhelm their adversary.
Nature is clever. Just when you think you have got away with it, your nemesis is waiting round the corner. Politicians might usefully ponder the ways of the komodo dragon.