Glock 26 Gen 5 Problems Novels & Stories

Garin nodded as she spoke, trying to rub feeling back into his feet. "How are we going to get out of this?" he asked a bullet ricocheted off the tree next to him. Willow roared again, the sound shook Garin's ribcage. Audrey pushed something cold and metallic into his hand. He looked down. It was his old handgun, a 357 Desert Eagle. "Do you still know how to shoot this?" she asked, pulling her own gun from her hip. He snorted derisively. "I'll manage," he replied popping out the magazine. Full. He pushed it back in with a satisfying click.

"Grab what you need." I let out a squeal of delight and begin to rummage through the throwing knives. I pick two that have a nice weight and balance to them and strap them to my hips. I grab a sword and strap it to my back. Now to the guns. I pass right by the rifles and straight to the handguns. A pink Glock 9mm catches my eye. I pick it up and aim it against an empty wall. The sight needs a bit of a tweak, but that is not something that I can't handle quickly. I strap the 9mm to my leg and turn to find my father and Osiris giving me a strange look.

It rang until it went to voicemail without being answered. Gerald frowned. “He isn’t picking up.” “Okay, I don’t think I like the sound of this at all,” Damian mumbled, shaking his head. Stepping back towards the car, Gerald quickly jerked the door on the driver’s side open, reached into a compartment, and pulled out a Glock. Damian stared at him in shock. “You brought a fucking gun?!” Not saying a word, Gerald checked to see whether there were bullets in it, then unclipped the safety.

Silas yelled as they quaked with the repeated impact of 800 rounds per minute, shredding the pool furniture, planters, and anything in their wake. “Goddamn them,” Aléjandro cursed. We watched as the door gunner was struck, the bullet coming from the area to the side of the pool from the darkness. The helicopter wobbled. If not for his seatbelt, the damn door gunner would have fallen. “Who the fuck are they?” I asked my brother-in-law. “Border agents stopped a shipment of MP5s from coming into the US a few weeks ago.” “Yours?” “They tried to link them to us. They belonged to Kozlov.”

The same look Drakon had when he claimed me. He reaches into his waistband. He pulls out a spare handgun. A Glock. Blocky and black. He hands it to me butt-first. It’s heavier than I expected. Cold. It smells of oil. "It's loaded," Markos says quietly. "One in the chamber. No safety on this model. You pull the trigger, it bangs. Keep your finger off until you're ready to kill something." I grip the textured handle. It feels foreign in my hand. Wrong.

I wanted to tear this building down brick by brick. ​But I didn’t. ​I sat perfectly still. ​I was Jerome Parker. I didn’t scream. I calculated. ​The gun. ​How did they get the gun? ​It was a Sig Sauer P226. Custom grip. Matte black finish. I kept it in the biometric safe in the master bedroom closet. Only two people had access to that safe: me and Ava. ​And Adrian had the override code. ​My mind raced, running through the possibilities.

“I’ve seen pictures. I recall one from Central Park.” My stomach suddenly twisted. “Wrong place, wrong time.” “Ten millimeter. Most likely shot from a Glock 20. Automatic with a magazine that holds fifteen rounds, yet only one shot was fired.” Oren and I stared at Luca. None of that was common knowledge. “How? How do you know that?” I asked. “Family,” Vincent replied. “What are you saying?” Oren asked. “When family, even those we haven’t seen in years, is threatened in our backyard, we look into it.”

he asks. “Do you have a Nr.1 Glock 17?” “We do have that, sir.” “I’ll buy one.” “Sure. May I see two valid IDs and a Possession License?” S.hit! I don’t have any ID yet! Plus the Possession License, I got that when I was twenty-one and I lost that too a long time ago! “I lost all of my IDs, I’m still waiting for my passport to be issued to me and I no longer have my Possession License since way back when. Is there anything that we can do about that?”

I muttered, lips brushing near her ear but she didn't say a word. I could tell she was too scared for that. She let out a shaky breath and lowered it slightly. Didn’t say a word. Good. We both had no time for back and forth. Another low thud rumbled through the floor, this one farther, but close enough to remind me we weren’t out yet. I checked the chamber of the glock again. I had five bullets left and had to put it in good use. I had no backup and no goddamn Skylo in sight. I clicked my tongue, frustration curling around my neck.

Up and down. I looked up at his hazy blue eyes, and then down at the thing half concealed by his suit jacket. The butt of a gun stuck from his waistband, hooked on the lip of his belt. I recognized the make. A Glock 17. Standard military and police issue. Seventeen in the clip, one in the pipe. Fully automatic. Fully illegal. Elian saw me looking. His grin curved higher. “Like what you see?” “I prefer not to dance with a handgun.” I hid my wariness. Should have seen this coming anyway.