Free Printable Gun Inventory Sheet Novels & Stories

he said. "gun please." she said, and Gavin grinned and handed a silver-coloured Smith and Wesson SD9/40 Glock over to her. "Here you go. I got this custom made for you." He handed her the gun along with silver bullets. Karen collected it squealing with joy. "Do you have golden bullets too?" She asked, and Gavin arched his eyebrow. "Got you covered on that one too." And he handed her golden coloured Smith and Wesson SD9/40 Glock with golden bullets too.

I turned back to him “Can we go through the records now?” He pointed beside him and I walked to his side. I lowered my figure, placing my hands on his table as my eyes hovered over the record sheets. “These shipments are international, the one for this month I mean” he said, slowly flipping through as we both looked at it. We both looked but only one understood and it certainly wasn't it. “Thirty crates this month?” I asked and he nodded. “Each crate has 20+ guns in it.” “Handguns or which?”

The young woman had another equally sad-looking, yet servicable pair. “Guns?” barked Hila. Siobhan was quick to respond. She had already figured out that Markos ' arsenal, frugal though it was, needed to be raided. She pointed to the table where she had laid out everything she could find. Hila limped over, a hand clutching her side as she picked up a couple of guns. She picked up the only three that seemed remotely serviceable, checking for their magazines. A Glock 19, which she pocketed, along with a SIG Sauer P365. The last one she picked up and wheezed, looking straight at Siobhan, who had been watching her closely, silently.

All alone, for as long as I could remember. Considering everything that had happened, I suppose what came next was inevitable. I grabbed my shirt and wiped my face. Glanced up and saw them, arranged in orderly piles on shelves under the sales counter. Hand guns. Pistols. Old revolvers and a few shotguns. I didn’t know what kind of pawn shop sells used guns. Didn’t know if it was legal, or if they had to do background checks or anything, or if they needed a license to sell them. But I was getting the idea by then, you understand, that no license existed for what Handy’s sold, and there they were. Hand guns, pistols, revolvers, shot guns and some rifles, all stacked neatly. And of course, sitt

Mariano and Alex also met me with some of the world's highest-ranked dangerous guns and rifles like Glock-17, G-21, H&K P7, HK416, Uzi, Accuracy International AS50 Sniper Rifle, Thompson M1921, AR Magazine, Colt Python Revolver, world's smallest bullet 2mm Kolibri and so on that I couldn't digest. I felt my head spinning after the small gun tour so I threw myself on the couch. Alex and Mariano laughed at me and left the office with some papers and a laptop in their arms. This place was full of hot criminals. "Done learning about guns?" Nicolas asked, still looking at the papers and writing something down on it. "I'm hungry," I growled and rubbed my stomach. "You have to wait until I'm done w

' she scoffed. Christina proceeds straight to the warehouse to keep her sanity off Michael and his drama. "Are the guns ready?" She let out while she looked around the huge table that the soldiers used to place the assembled guns. "Yes, comare Chris. You may inspect the guns if you wish." A soldier spoke out with a wide smile on his face She peeks around until spots the Glock 19 she picks up the pellet cartridge and fills it up and aims at a dummy target and unpacks all the bullets on it leaving it in microscopic pieces spread out on the floor.

She has to start from scratch. She put all the documents back in the box. She will continue next time. For now, she will prepare to pick up her son from his school. However, one thing is sure the safe box is no longer safe. Ara put back the documents into the safe box, but not the gun. Maybe it is best to carry a weapon. Besides, the firearm she had was easy to carry. She did not examine the gun last night, but now she realizes that the gun was small and easy to carry. If she was not mistaken, the gun is called Sig P365, which was in demand for women because it has a small frame and is easy to carry.

"That one, I have to admit, impressed me." I looked at the counter. Every hidden weapon in my house, every carefully positioned failsafe I'd installed over three years in case the life I'd left behind ever came knocking, lay out under the kitchen lights like evidence in a trial. "Is there a crime in owning weapons?" I said. "Not at all. In fact, I checked. Every single one of these is registered. Legally purchased, properly documented, all paperwork in order." Gabriel nodded with what appeared to be genuine respect. "Very responsible gun ownership, Vincent. The NRA would be proud."

He left the room, locking it behind him. My eyes drifted to the black duffel bag he’d placed on the table. Curiosity, sharp and persistent, got the better of me. I got up, unzipped the bag, and looked inside. Two compact, black handguns. Four extra magazines of ammunition. A thick stack of local currency. Two cheap, pre-paid burner phones. That was it. No clothes, no personal items. Just the tools for survival and violence.

He sniffed, liquid snot running down his nose from his coughing fit, and opened the bottom right drawer of his desk. Built into the drawer was a fireproof safe. The back half held a hanging folder for important documents, and the front half was open to hold a variety of shapes and items, and the whole thing was lined in black felt. One of those items was a loaded pistol and a small box of ammunition.