Lock Shock And Barrel の小説・ストーリー

He tried the other way, putting pressure on the shackle and the lock clicked several times. He tried 16-4-12 and the locker swung open. Josh smiled triumphantly. Beads of sweat fell off his forehead. Josh leaned backwards against another locker, his hands aching and sore. They peered into the dark confines and lo and behold! another box was fitted inside and was locked with a big padlock. "I got this". Hunter muttered and then swiped two bobby pins from Zoey's hair. He picked the lock, twisting around with the pins and the lock jumped o

Loitering is bound to draw someone’s attention. I walk over to the closest locker, gently grasping the combo lock that’s keeping it shut. It’s one of those cheap ones you can buy at any office supplies store. I don’t even need to pull out my tools to crack it. All I do is tug on the bottom to take most of the slack out of the shackle. Keeping a medium amount of tension, I turn the combination face clockwise until it snags on a sticking point —the first number in the sequence. I then rotate back counterclockwise and find the second sticking point, before finally turning it clockwise one more time until… Pop!

"Old Char? You here? Where is he… Hey, your wine barrel's being out of control!" "My god, it's Locke… " expressed Tom as he at long last perceived Norton Lorist without his coat. Trust couldn't avoid any longer and stood straight up. "Hello, Locke. It's been a long while now, about… a large portion of a year? We thought something happened to you. Did you bring back some star-spotted deerskins that I needed?" Pointing towards the monster skins on the floor, Lorist said "I got three of them wrapped up inside. Go look at it yourself."

"Without destroying what is inside." "Do you have a tool kit in that expensive car of yours?" Liam almost smiled. "Yes." He walked back to the car. I stayed by the chimney. The wind picked up. The trees swayed. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. Liam returned with a small metal tool. A crowbar, but smaller. Delicate. "Stand back," he said. I stepped away. He wedged the tool between the lock and the box. He pushed. Nothing happened. He pushed harder. The metal groaned.

He told me and I kept looking at him in shock. “Wha – what?” I asked him anxiously. “Yes…” He said and added, “Come here” He walked towards the door of the powder room and showed me the barrel bolt lock. “Someone slid this lock to the side, locking you inside…” He added and I couldn’t believe it. “Why – why would someone do this to me?” I asked anxiously. “I have no idea…” He said and then looked around while adding bitterly, “I won’t leave that person…”

Chad looked at Morgan's mother in disbelief, completely shocked. Esther voiced her suspicions: "Yes! It is indeed a locking. I haven't seen one in more than 20 years." Morgan looked puzzled as he glanced at his mother and asked, "What is locking? Is it that serious?" Chad nodded thoughtfully and said, "It's incredibly serious. Locking is a rare and vicious technique that is extremely difficult to deal with." Archibald walked out of his room at that point, stunned, and said, "There are still people who know how to do locking nowadays?"

I lunged across the open gap between the cars, stepping onto the metal coupling plate right over the roaring, spinning steel wheels below. The wind in the gap nearly ripped me off my feet. The dark ground below was a spinning blur of sharp crushed stone and iron ties. I jammed the flat edge of the pry bar straight into the rusted seam of the coupling pin lock. The suit saw me. He shifted his barrel, bringing the black lens of his scope straight up toward my chest. "Now!" I roared, throwing my entire body weight down on the iron bar. The rusted pin snapped in half. The heavy steel jaw of the coupling swung open with a loud, metallic bang.

Even if I have to burn this loom spinning us troubles and everyone wheeling it, I’m coming back. I turned the key. The engine roared to life, a predatory growl in the quiet parking lot. I shifted into gear and pulled away, leaving the my only true love behind, but carrying the prisoner's chains with me.

"If we kick the door, he shifts. We don't fight an Alpha in a confined space. We trap him." Walking out of the store, the men gathered near the tailgate of their rusted pickup truck. Silas pulled a heavy metal lockbox from the truck bed. Popping the latch, he revealed a terrifying assortment of specialized restraints. Thick, heavy iron collars laced with pure silver. Vials of concentrated wolf-bane liquid. A modified, heavy-duty pneumatic dart gun.

Jax wasn't thinking about technique anymore; he was thinking about erasing the embarrassment of missing a Null. He swung a massive backhand. It was sloppy. Telegraphed. I ducked under it. But this time, I didn't retreat. I stepped in. I pressed my back against his chest. Sliding inside his guard. I grabbed his outstretched arm—the one he had just swung—and clamped it between my shoulder and my ear. Barzil had taught me this lock yesterday. Fulcrum and lever. I grabbed his wrist with both hands. Pulled down while thrusting my hips back.