Gear Guilty Novels & Stories

They all nodded their heads and cooperated with her. "Princess of GADH, Keep all this equipment with you. It is made of new Jap*n*se technology. It came to RATHOREs, a few years ago. And we've had it ever since. Maybe you need these things", The first one said and Adrija was thankful for their thoughtfullness. "This is a small gun and a knife", The youngest guard spoke as he pursed his lips and due to this, a cute dimple popped on his cheeks. Adrija had an urge to poke her fingers into his cheeks. The male guards stood on their hidden spot.

ANDREA The guys move with sharp precision, their usual relaxed energy replaced by something focused and intense. The garage echoes with the sounds of zippers, the metallic clicks of guns being checked and holstered. Logan and Austin pull weapons from hidden compartments in the wall with practiced efficiency. I swallow hard. I knew they were involved in dangerous work, but seeing it up close is different.

I raced toward the iron gates of the Capone estate, the tires of the Ducati screaming. I didn't slow down while the sensors picked up the chip in my bike, the heavy metal bars groaning as they swung open. The security guards stood at the entrance, their hands resting on their holsters. I didn't want them to see a thing. I shifted my weight, leaning my chest forward until I was shielding Gianna’s entire body with my own. I pulled the collar of my jacket up and pressed her face harder into the crook of my neck, hiding the mess of her hair and the dazed look in her eyes.

“What the heck is this little thing?” “That is a GPS tracker. Gunnach Technologies makes them. They are top of the line, super-small, undetectable to all known bug sweepers, and can be tracked via a phone app. I always want you to have this on you, so I always know where you are. After what happened with Warthog, I’m not taking any chances. I know it’s kind of creepy, but I swear I’ll only track you in case of emergencies, all right?” “I trust you,” Cricket said.

Jim the owner asked as he smiled at me from behind the screen protected booth. I greeted him and chose my regular gun of choice, a Weston M and P two point zero. He quickly found it and handed it to me across the countertop. "I would like a Glock, a seventeen if you have it," Sienna said which seem to shock Jim. His eyes bulged as he looked at me for answers. "Before you make a rude remark, Jim, something along the lines of women belonging in the kitchen, I sincerely advise you not to. This is my wife and the Don of the Italian mafia, Ms. Zannotti," I said, without breaking eye contact. Sienna smirked as she nodded approvingly.

Not when Skyr hasn't told the squad yet. We finally made it to the shop that sells gears. Numerous uniforms, boots, gloves, bags, and equipment line the walls and stalls. No one was here except for a middle aged shopkeeper and a few small drones that served as a CCTV. One stall caught my sight. It was lined with numerous combat gloves with thick padding on the palm and knuckles. I nudged Rachel and pointed at the aisle. “Over there.” I told her.

Just become a security guard, I don't know. "Sorry, Sir. But I was told by him to wait here. " The security guard looked the man up and down. The man was wearing the famous limites edition brand shoes. However, now there are many KW brands. So the security guard insulted him again. Apparently, he was that arrogant. Just became a security guard, it was already sky high.

They're the only things standing between death and me, and if they're working at half-full, mistakes might happen. Reese stops me before we leave, and buckles something through the loops of my jeans. It's black and looks like a belt, but it has a leather holster right over the hip. He tucks one of the Glock 17's away, and smiles. "You remember how to shoot, right?" "Um, yeah," I say, not nearly as confident as I sound. And I don't sound all that confident. "I think I'll stick close to you just to be on the safe side." I give him a nervous chuckle, and he smiles.

The ballistic weave was sound. Then I checked the magnetic cuffs—the ones the Lugal insisted she wear during "official" engagements to dampen her output. I pressed the release mechanism. Click. But the sound was wrong. It was 0.04 decibels lower than the standard factory setting. A dullness in the snap that vibrated incorrectly against my thumb pad. I pulled a micro-tool from my pocket and unscrewed the housing. Squeak. Inside, a thin copper wire had been spliced into the primary circuit.

He had something on his mind and whatever it was, it wasn't good. He also wasn't dressed casually. Instead, he was in full tribal warrior gear. Soft moleskin pants hugged his lower frame. Lace-up boots covered his feet and shins. His upper body was bare except for an interlocking buffalo bone breastplate. Inch and a half wide leather strips wound around his wrists. And in addition to traditional weaponry of knives strapped in various places, Ever also had a Glock handgun holstered around one meaty thigh. No, this definitely wasn't an informal visit.