Gunsmith Part 4 Novels & Stories

After a brutal exchange, the man lay sprawled on the ground, defeated. Hunter’s gaze shifted to a nearby table, where he spotted a nail gun. He grabbed it and turned back to the man. “What are you gonna do?” the man stammered as Hunter aimed the nail gun at him. “The problem isn’t your brain. It’s this,” Hunter said coldly, firing the nail gun at the man’s most sensitive area. The man screamed in agony, his cries echoing through the studio. Hunter tossed the nail gun aside and punched the man repeatedly.

Whiskey. I gave Tobias and the angry woman a large birth and made my way back to the shed where they had been keeping the prisoner. The searching warriors were moving further away from the village, just as I had hoped they would. This should be a quick and relatively easy task. Not even Gunner and his little bitch Mate will get in the way of my mission. I climbed onto the same tyre, under the same window, and peered through the dirty glass once more. Gunner’s mother and father had left now, but the prisoner wasn’t left alone. One of the dirty wolves from Doyle’s pack was now joined by three people, probably members of Gunner’s pack. Though looking at the fowl glare and the dishevelled appear

“I’ll have 9mm rounds and magazines placed in here too. I carry a .45 and so does Alex, so we’ve never had use for the smaller rounds up here.” Before he can close the door to the safe, Gomez walks in. He doesn’t look good. His eyes are bloodshot and his white dress shirt is wrinkled. He takes in everything, including the gun at my hip. He crosses the room, snags his arm around my waist, and pulls me in close. A normal guy would give a quick hug. Gomez noogies my hair. I slap him away with a laugh. Gomez laughs too and takes a chair, kicks back, and lifts an ankle across his other knee. “Okay, Jefe, what’s the plan?”

Either way, he could not jinx his probable good luck. Richard rented a car as soon as they exited the major terminal. They climbed in with their bags of clothes. Richard had told Ire on the plane that they would rent harmed guns to use. “Just in case,” He had said. Ire waited in the car when they arrived at a place called Pistol Gallery. Minutes later, Richard came back with a silver briefcase. Ire gingerly unlocked the case and opened it. An unassembled sleek black hand gun winked at him. “LP4 Pistol. It's got a standard subsonic cartridge, high explosive clip on component and a rapid fire clip on component.”

He carried the case over to the table directly in front of the first shooting lane and flipped the metal latches open. I walked up and stood right next to him, looking down at the table. The case did not contain a fully assembled weapon. It contained several different dark metal parts, a coiled spring, and a black rectangular magazine filled with brass bullets. Kade picked up the heavy black frame of the Glock 19 and placed it squarely in the center of the metal table. He did not start explaining the different components right away. He turned his body toward me and took a deliberate step forward. He stood so close that the toes of his boots nearly touched my sneakers.

A gun was pointed at the first man. “Give up. You’re not going to get out of this one.” The first guy said. The man with the crowbar started to look uneasy. You didn’t bring a crowbar to a gunfight. “Hey, man, she has a gun. I’m out.” The fourth man dropped the crowbar and ran out of the gym, through the same fire exit as the second man. “Now there are two,” I said. I heard movement behind me. The man I shot started to stand. Any injury, they recovered from. Great. They were the perfect opponents.

Earth is outdated I guess, what about AWN". Klaus asked. "No such thing here boss". Abruzzi said. Gwen and Jai Mi picked the Scar Rifle including Abruzzi. "Don't Worry Jai Mi, you won't have to worry about recoil". Nicklaus said as he carried the XM8 rifle. They bounced out and entered into a vehicle before driving off. Nicklaus asked Jai Mi to drive to a warehouse first just across the street. They got down from the vehicle and entered all holding their guns. In the building were about thirty gunmen who were arranging some Crates.

Josh asked. Gage growled again and I tried to keep calm. Digger is the biggest motherfucking coward on the planet. “Handguns with an ivory plate on the grip,” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Yeah, I got a picture of one from a security camera. He doesn’t get much cash off ‘em so there’s gotta be another reason he’s making them. As best I can tell there was one site for storing parts and another for putting them together,” Josh said, looking deep in thought.

The way he looked at her when he said "Always." She didn't hesitate. She racked the slide, disassembled the pistol with practiced movements she had learned in the last 48 hours. She pulled out the small, silver firing pin. She dropped the useless gun body on the floor. "Take it," she said, slamming the firing pin onto the metal tray next to the Tinker. "Fix him. Now." The Tinker picked up the pin. He examined it. He smiled behind his brass mask. "Good steel," he purred. "A fair trade. Life for power."

“The TRG-42 has a bolt action system that fires smoothly and reliably. It can adjust the stock for maximum comfort and stability. The barrel's got flutes to make it lighter and more accurate. And let’s not forget its caliber—the 338 Lapua Magnum, capable of delivering devastatingly accurate shots at long distances.” Mikael finished talking about the rifle and leaned back, staring at me. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of understanding. He spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I don’t usually do this, you know,” Mikael confessed. “I typically deal in large quantities, selling to the likes of mafia clans. But there was something in your voice, a desperation that resona