Trigger Time Gun And Pawn Novels & Stories

“The target is sixty-five seconds away from you. Coming from the left.'' The man inside the car was informed through a phone call. He dropped the call and kicked the engine of the car to life. He cocked his gun before checking the time on his stopwatch. He still had some valuables to spare.

I take a step back my legs tactically feeling the rug for my gun which I always keep beneath it, because if I wanna take down this big man here called Trigger, a pocket knife won't do the trick. "You are as smart as he was but trust me, I won't harm you" Trigger laughs. He. Who is he? But still I take another cautious step bacl. "I do not believe you" Trigger laughs again and pulls out a gun from the back of his boots, my eyes follows his every move but then he throws the gun at my feet and cocks his head. I stare at him skeptically. "The gun is fully loaded, make your shot if I try anything stupid" I bend slowly my eyes still trained on him and I pick the gun.

"After all these years, I'm still useless." His eyes tightened in sorrow. "You've already done enough for me." I shook my head, unable to accept that. It wasn't enough. Taking advantage of the darkness, I led Zach out the back door, but just before we could escape, we were spotted by one of my father's men. In a fit of rage, my father fired a shot from the second-floor window. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the air as I slowly collapsed behind Zach, shielding him. "Run!" I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left.

Putting it back in its case, he can’t help but be amazed by how Oliver manages to think of some creative like that. Just like gizi, he created another wonderful piece. It is a gun but in a gaming glove form. If you rub the tip of the two sleeves, it will trigger the input on its system. It is a voice command gadget that shoots its small micro bullet when the word ‘Bang' was heard. It is not deadly. Even if someone stole it, they can’t trigger the system to heed their command. The only voice that they will recognize is none other than Oliver. ‘I wonder how long they will sleep. Oliver never use this to a person that is why I can’t see any memories regarding that…’

he exclaims and laughed out loudly in an annoying way. "This is a beginning of my sixth year and the victim I bid for this time around is giving me a really tough time. I wanted to get entertained for a few days before I get rid of her, but I guess it's going to be sooner than expected" he cocked his gun and pulled the trigger and the bullet came piercing the door sending Alice and Powell to lay down back on the floor. "No one is going to stop me from the life I've chosen!" more shots on the metal door.

MJ raises both of his arms then steps back. “Alright, I’m sorry,” he said, then put down his arms again. He steps forward to look at the game booth. “Uhmm… Excuse me? Can I play?” MJ asks as the owner nodded her head and laid her hand out. "Two dollars" MJ paid the owner as he got handed a handmade gun. He grabs it then quickly fills it up with five ping pong balls. He looked at his back and saw Patima eyeing his movements. "Watch and learn," he said as the younger nodded her head then looked at the bottles. MJ positioned himself then pointed the gun on the bottles. He fired his first bullet and it beat down two bottles.

I lightly tapped his cheeks. “Fox…Fox…” I gently tug at him. After a while, I got impatient and straightened my stance, smacking the back of his head. He jolted awake and within a second, a gun was cocked in my direction. I noticed how he instinctively pressed a button on the armrest of his wheelchair that was also his weapon, where a high-grade gun appeared on its left wheel and automatically locked on a target – me. “Oh,” I scoffed. One side of my lips curled upward, impressed at his reaction time.

I lightly press the barrel against the temple of the old man who groans. "Otherwise Dad and your little sister will find out what it's like to pay for a coward's mistakes." » I hang up without waiting for his response. Silence falls again in the room. Heavy. Suffocating. I put my gun back in its holster and sit quietly on the couch, as if I were an honored guest. “Anyone want some coffee?” » I ask with a courteous smile. Nobody answers. Of course. I check my watch. A Patek Philippe that is worth more than this terraced shack. Twenty-nine minutes. The countdown has begun.

“Clip that to any power trunk feeding their back-of-house. It’ll whisper over the line like a drunk rosary.” Bruno weighed it. “Cute.” “And this,” Pauly said, handing Wolfgang a pair of nondescript fobs, “spoofs cage access if you can get within ten centimetres of a reader. Two taps, long-short, then present. If you do short-long, you’ll trigger an audit alarm and we all die.” Wolf looked at the fob like it might bite. “Long-short. Not short-long. Got it.” “Say it back to me.”

REIGN “One more finger.” I ordered while lighting my cigarette. One of my men placed the trembling man’s left hand on the table and another quickly chopped off his pinky finger, equalizing the two hands. The unfortunate man let out a loud scream as he clutched his hand close to his chest. “So,” I blew out the smoke, “where's my truck?” I asked and the man shook in fear, sweat drenched his body and his lips trembled. “I don’t..”