Gunsmith Part 4 Novels & Stories

he said again but all he got was a buzz. "Smith, where....." a voice came live from the walkie talkie but was cut short with the buzz sound again. "Major Mark do you copy" he said into the talkie again, he's getting impatient. "I'm out" Austin said switching his SCAR riffle to his GP100 .357 revolver and put a big hole in the head of a female infected . "What's going on Smith?" I asked out of frustration. "The signal is weak" he replied trying to connect Major Mark again.

And I was not going to stand by and watch him tear her open again. I crossed to the cabinet in the corner, the one that looked like a server rack if you didn’t know better. I punched in the code and the lock clicked open. Inside, the sidearm sat where it always sat. I took it out and the metal felt cold and right in my hand. Too many years doing this had made the motions automatic. Open. Check. Clean. Reassemble. Load. Secure. The process settled my nerves in the way breathing exercises never did. I laid the parts out carefully on the desk and started cleaning.

Gunner, Aiden, and Skullz; one of Aiden's riders; take down Gold tooths men. Every gun is trained on Gold tooth.

The guards hesitated, looking to my father for instruction. "Now!" he barked, and they rushed me. In the struggle, knowing I would lose, I made a split-second decision. Rather than let Amber have my mother's gun intact, I quickly removed a critical firing pin and swallowed it. The guards wrenched the weapon from my hands, but I smiled knowing it was useless now. My father was livid. "Fix it," he demanded of the pack's gunsmith. Within hours, the gun was repaired and presented to Amber as a gift.

It was an old habit I was used to. The screen door creaked. Gideon walked out, clutching a mug of coffee. He moved with more confidence tonight, the limp in his leg almost gone. He pulled up a chair across from me and sat down, his eyes fixed on the disassembled parts of my gun on the table. "You’re good at that," he said quietly. "Taking things apart. Putting them back together." "It’s the only way to make sure they don't jam when you need them," I replied without looking up.

“Done.” We connected with Hunter as I led Swift to a lockbox on the kitchen table and opened it for him. He casually looked it over before removing it from the box. With clear skill, he began to take the weapon apart. Once he had the parts laid out on the table, he removed a backpack from his shoulder and pulled out a container. Using a magnifying scope and a few different lights, he thoroughly looked each part over. His expression becoming more serious with each piece. “Well… this is… not what I expected,” he finally said curiously. “I can tell you that this didn’t come from anyone that I know.”

he smirked as gave the gun to me. “I'll teach you all the parts you need to know before you do it yourself. You have the magazine well, grip, safety grip, thumb safety, hammer, rear sight, slide skip,” he kept pointing at each part of the gun as he called their names out. I tried my best to keep my focus on the parts because I knew the names would take me a while to memorize. How come he knew all of these? He was really pro.

I continued, leaning closer, my voice dropping to a whisper, “you’re going to beg for death yourself, Agent Fourteen.” I flipped the gun in my hand, the movement swift and precise, and brought the butt of it down hard against his temple before he could spew his nonsense. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious, his blood pooling beneath him. I stood, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and stared down at him. The room was silent now, save for the slow spread of blood on the hardwood. I mumbled to myself, stuffing the gun back into the belt. "When would these bastards learn to stop underestimating the enemy?"

I pulled back the dressing on my leg and cringed. It wasn’t pretty. It was healing, but I kind of expected it to look better after a week. We stayed in the motel room the entire time, with only one trip out to a grocery and to switch out cars. Laying low in an entirely different fashion than before. And by switch out, I meant steal. It wasn’t one of the set-up, ready and waiting ones. During that time, he tried to get more information about Four while I learned the mechanics of guns, from safety to disassembling and cleaning. Not to mention the cabin fever that was beginning to consume me.

Making Cassie jump. "Is there a problem sir?" The gunsmith asked "Either you don't know who I am or your very stupid," Nathan said to him. "Sorry Lord Nathan my apologies." He said and got a much better quality holster. Nathan examined it. Then shoved the pistols back to him. The gunsmith brought out two of the news models. I want four boxes of ammunition. I need gun powder, dynamite and fuses. "It is quite expensive Lord Nathan." The gunsmith said.