Free Printable Gun Inventory Sheet Novels & Stories

“Clean weapon. Licensed. Registered.” He carefully bagged it, making a note. “Now,” Harris went on, “you also understand the DA’s office might want to look at this. Even if it’s self-defense, they’ll want paperwork to cover themselves.” I smirked faintly. “Paperwork I can handle. Just make sure nobody tries to spin this into something it isn’t.” “I’m not in the business of spin,” Harris said firmly. “But people will ask why you carry a rifle while jogging with your wife.”

Along the far wall, built into custom cabinetry, was an arsenal. Guns. At least a dozen of them, secured in foam cutouts. Handguns, rifles, and something that looked military-grade. All sleek and deadly and terrifying. "Jesus Christ, Cade." I took a step back. "Are those legal?" "All registered. All properly documented for international transport." He moved to the case, running his fingers over the weapons with the same care he'd use handling art. "I don't do anything halfway, Scarlett. If we're going after Silvio, I'm going to be prepared."

“Ohh… I saw the numbers. People really are interested in bombs, hand …. Hand what” “Hand grenades…” Luca supplied. “Yeah those, people are investing in hand grenades, automatic rifles and automatic pistols and …. What was that chamber…. Chamber....” “8 bullet chamber revolver”? Luca said again, biting his lower lip. She glared at him with a stinky eye, but she was so excited to tell them about her notes. “How did you…” Hugo was actually surprised. “I… let me show you. Let’s go”. She practically dragged them out and waved at Joshua to bring her tablet from the table.

She put it down, facing away from us. I walked her through the other guns, showing her how to load them and unload them and make sure the safety was on. “The shotgun can only hold two bullets—but they count. Shoot someone at close range, and they’re done.” I showed her the rifle. “Use this if you have many opponents. This is a little different because it uses a magazine rather than bullets.” I showed her how to add a magazine and take it away. “A Glock is good to have in your purse or in your nightstand, easy to carry if you’ve got one target. But if you’re ever under threat, always go for one of these two.” “Do—do you think I’ll be under threat?”

Whatever the job calls for. To the right were all my favorite weapons. All of them were clean, organized and dusted which I actually care about. Knives were all balanced and personalized. I’ve got daggers tucked into false books and one coated in clear poison that kills in under three minutes. There were guns too like compact pistols, modified Glocks, even a matte-black sniper rifle broken down in a case under the floor tiles. Full magazines stacked in metal drawers. All untraceable. All mine. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to go unnoticed when you wear a smile and carry juice boxes in your purse.

After a moment she said, “A gun is a massive responsibility, Claire. If you take it out, you have to be fully prepared to pull the trigger and end a life. Otherwise it will be taken from you and used against you.” “I know,” I whispered. “I’m prepared.” “Okay,” she said. “If you’re going to do it, don’t buy some massive hand cannon you can’t control. Start with a compact nine millimeter, something like a Smith and Wesson Shield or a Glock Forty-Three. They’re reliable, standard, and easy to manage with smaller hands, but still have stopping power.” I nodded. “What about storing it? I have two children at home.” “That makes it all the more important to follow gun safety rules. Do not put a gun

Now with the light, we can see where we are. "Where are we," I ask, turning to Chuck as he walks past me. Looking around, I see whole shelves lined up against the walls. On the shelves are an assortment of guns. I see many different kinds of handguns; basic pistols, some heavy-looking revolvers, and even a few peashooters. Beside the handgun are a bunch of blunt weapons such as wooden planks and broken pipes. After the blunt weapons are the big guns. I actually see a few shotguns lined up.

she asks as she puts in the combination. I abhor guns but I can shoot, so I nod. "This is a Glock 26 Gen4. It has 10 in the magazine and one in the chamber ready to fire. If you've used a Glock before, you know the safety is in the trigger pull, so it's ready to go. Point and shoot." She expertly removes the magazine and the bullet in the chamber before handing it to me with the slide back. I give her an inquisitive look. She shrugs. "I was a cop and gun safety is fully embedded in my soul."

"So this parking lot consists of 5 floors, each floor is approximately an acre. We all know, any negotiation taking place in a covered parking lot would be on the second last floor or top floor. In this case it's cause they don't wanna get caught by police." I went to a button on the wall and pressed it to make the hologram of the wall disappear. In its place were racks of guns. "A few of the guns we're expecting these two crews to be carrying," I picked up the guns as I read them out and tossed them to Jack, "Sniper Rifle, Strum Ruger & Co, Smith & Wesson .38, Glock Inc. .40, typical machince guns and High Point Firearms." "That is what we'll be using but we also gotta show 'em why we provi

Pain shot through her but she barely noticed. Down on the warehouse floor, men kept working. Crates banged around. Someone shouted orders. Normal stuff. Like she wasn't standing in a glass box holding evidence of something terrible. She forced air into her lungs. Okay. Okay. Look again. You need to see everything. She moved back to the desk. Her legs felt shaky. The gun was small. Silver handle with pearl inlay. Pretty, almost. The kind of thing a rich woman might keep in her purse. But the photo wasn't pretty. It was 8x10, glossy, marked up with red circles and arrows. Notes in the margins she couldn't read. The handwriting was too small, too cramped.