Spare Parts Novels & Stories

There was no harm though since he apologized. "I guess you already know mine." She replied but never took his hand. All she needed was do her job and get far away from Blair as soon as possible. "So what happened to it?" Levon asked again looking between them and their car. "We don't know too for sure. It just stopped. Okay, it made the cranking noise and stopped. We checked the fuel tank and its half full and the tyres are in perfect shape. We don't know what exactly is the problem." Timothy replied.

Since they were far out in the middle of nowhere, there was no way to re-equip her. The last thing they needed was for her to get back into a fight, but she could still be useful as a “farseer”. The mecha were doing much better - they had only suffered superficial damage for the most part. Merely dented or pock-marked armor, which they could easily repair. A few parts had been scored and cut into by the enemy’s beamcannons, but none were serious. In fact, they still had plenty of spare parts to pick from, including the parts from this battle.

Cassie replied easily, her tone neutral but courteous. With the brief exchange done, Jameson turned his attention back to Zandrie and walked toward the desk, a thin folder tucked under his arm. “I brought something you might want to see,” he said, placing the folder in front of Zandrie. “Dad asked you to review this before he brings it to the board.” Zandrie opened the folder, scanning the first few pages while Jameson took the chair opposite him. “It’s a motor vehicle spare parts manufacturing company,” Jameson explained.

, he stated. "No it's not that, the cars have little or no issues, and having to purchase car parts means that there were issues with the cars, and no one who buys a car for million's of dollars would mishandle it in a way to purchase a spare part within 3 months ". He has a point. "Sebastian 260 cars is a small number in 3 months.". I almost scoffed, "3 months? that's 90 days, we've sold 260 cars in-"

The dispirited look on her face caused Patrick to reconsider what he just said. "Uh, wait, I mean eventually. Not immediately. I found a replacement part, I think. I called around and there's a company that resells units. He commonly gets this brand dumped off when developers are renovating their older buildings. So I'm going over there to see if he's got our model and can salvage the circuit board." Patrick offered as hope.

Spade parked his car outside his warehouse, it had been a while he had been here, since the whole Nate issue and the marriage contract, he seemed to be too occupied to even come check on the warehouse, thank God he had Matteo and a few other trusted men here that were keeping an eye on things for him. He stepped out of the car and walked towards the metallic doors, pulling it open he stepped inside the cold warehouse, facing a flight of stairs that led down to where all operations were being carried out, he took the stairs, walking down with power and confidence.

she said. “Not in the mood for that right now,” he said. “So, you just want to talk?” she asked. “Yeah. My parrot here is too lazy to talk to me,” he said. “So, am I the replacement for the parrot?” she asked. “You’re my spare,” he said. “Ohhh…okay. It’s a noble thing to do,” she said. “Is it okay?” he asked. “Well, I’m alone too. Even the ghosts left me,” she said.

Damien laughed softly as his expression softened, he explained that they had started opening warehouses after the initial chaos, revealing a hangar that stretched for hundreds of feet with crates stacked nearly to the ceiling, many untouched and others already catalogued by his people. Dax whistled in amazement and said that was enough spare parts to keep them flying for years. But one of Damien's mechanics shook his head and replied not years as everyone looked at him and the older mechanic wiped grease from his hands while explaining that a lot of the equipment was salvageable but not all of it. Aaron nodded because that sounded realistic as the mechanic con

I switched back to English and patiently repeated, "A Gorman-made Hoffmann tool set, 16 sockets, a torque wrench, and a precision micrometer set. They were bought with this equipment when the factory was built; it should be in a silver metal box." Donald Winston, the workshop supervisor and a seasoned equipment maintenance veteran, scoffed. "Hey, Mr. Zigger, do you think this is your home? You know where everything is? We don't have those in our factory!" I calmly replied, "You do. It's on the second shelf in the warehouse, the third box from the top. It should have an 'Ersatzteile' label on it." Donald's expression instantly changed. 'Ersatzteile' was Gorman for 'sp

On the day my parents file for bankruptcy, my adopted brother and fake heir, Oliver Bilson, is also diagnosed with leukemia. To earn enough money to pay his medical bills, I brave the snow and winds and continue working even on New Year's Eve. When I hand over the food delivery to the scion, Charlie Jetton, he suddenly knocks the cake over. "Why weren't you more careful when making the delivery?" he demands. "Don't you know that Mr. Bilson spent a million dollars to specifically order this cake for Olly?" I'm about to make a retort when I hear three voices that I'm intimately familiar with coming from within the warm villa. "It's okay. It's the thought that counts, Mom and Dad." The vo