that fit snugly into a hand, even one as small and seemingly delicate as her own, and fired bullets when the trigger was pulled. She had neither brand nor design loyalty.
The Mechanic looked genuinely offended. “Of course it matters. I’ve some good stuff on offer. Here, I’ll show you.” He walked off, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter….God, I don’t know. Women.”
Maxine ignored his mutterings. She stayed in much the same position, but shifted slightly so she could keep him in sight. No one else was here, which was good.
The Mechanic opened a metal locker at the end of the room and removed a large blue sports bag that sagged with the weighted contents.
He carried it over to his work bench and unzipped it on a relatively clear area. “Sure you don’t want an Uzi, Blondie.” The machine pistol was the first item out of the bag. “Mini Uzi, collapsible metal stock. Small, light….you got a terrific rate of fire.” He held the gun out, the spartan metal handgrip towards her.
“Handguns.” Maxine said, ignoring the weapon. She kept her voice as bland and British as she could. If anything her accent shifted slightly to a more upper class and less believable tone.
The Mechanic shrugged, “OK, Blondie, but it’s a good gun. I’ll keep it for you.” He gave her the dirty tooth grin again. “All right, let’s see what we have in here. Pistols….Glock….always popular. Walther….got a P5, you don’t see those very often.”
Maxine picked up the Glock.
“That’s a good choice.” The Mechanic said. “9mm. Not much to go wrong. If you need something bigger I have a Colt .45.” He suddenly smiled again, the grimy grin, “Tell you what, how about one of these.” He laid a chunky pistol on the bench.
“A Scorpion?” She said, lifting the gun. For all its size it was surprisingly light. The miracle of 21st century alloys and materials had created this gun. They were rare, and expensive.
“Scorpion VX7.” The Mechanic said proudly, though he seemed to take a lot of pride in all his guns. “9mm. 15 shot clip. Though I can get you a 32 round clip. It’ll take a silencer.” From the bag he produced a long metallic cylinder which, like the gun, was in non-reflective black.
“Do you have the sighting system?” Maxine said. She picked up the suppressor and attached it to the barrel. Again, she was pleased with the weight and handling. The gun was nowhere near as unwieldy as she imagined.
“Dedicated electronic sights.” They came out of the bag. A compact unit. “VISION sights. Visual Interface System and Integrated Overview Network. If you can’t hit what you’re shooting at using that then you’re a chimpanzee.”
Maxine clipped the sights to the top slide. “Batteries?”
“Included, but it takes a standard nine volt fire alarm battery. You look through the reflex screen there and the computer will identify and prioritize up to six targets. You can customize it by those buttons there. It uses SMART technology. Strategic Mathematical Adjusted Reflex Targeting.”
Maxine nodded. There was a time a gun was just a gun, not a box of electronic tricks.
“The target is in the red box. When the green box overlays it you pull the trigger.”
Maxine laid the gun aside. It was a possibility.
“I have revolvers too.” The Mechanic said, “Smith Wesson. Colt. Ruger. Any preferred caliber?” He dug out several weapons. “This is a good one. Smith Wesson .38 Airweight. Very light. Takes five bullets. The barrel is less than six centimeters long, but I’m guessing you work close.”
Maxine took the gun. It was small and very light with checkered plastic grips. She opened the cylinder. Closed it, weighed it carefully and placed it by the Scorpion.
She said, “One more handgun and a rifle.”
“Taurus Protector.” The Mechanic said, “Basically it’s the same as the Smith Wesson. Five shot .38 caliber. Small, light, Here. What do you think?”
Maxine took the unfamiliar weapon and examined it. It was, as The Mechanic claimed, very similar to the Smith Wesson. Small and simple to operate. She nodded and laid it aside with the others.
“And now a rifle.” The Mechanic said. He put the other handguns back in the bag. “I have something a bit special that you might like.” He hauled the sports bag back to the locker and opened up the next one. “You’ll want sights and a suppressor?”
“What have you got?” Maxine said.
“You take a look at this, Blondie.” He brought another , longer, bag and ripped open the Velcro fastenings. Inside was a molded green plastic case. He unsnapped the lock clips and lifted the lid, grinning. “Just you look at this, Blondie.”
The weapon had been disassembled and what it had originally been wasn’t easy to say at first. But it did look like a military weapon.
“This started life as an AR-15.” The Mechanic said. “Of course a bit of work’s been done on it. New stock. Those are really good sights too. Electronic. New barrel with integral suppressor unit. What more could you ask for?”
Very little, apparently. “How much?” Maxine said.
“For the lot, Blondie?”
“Yes. Handguns and rifle.”
“Going to have to be fifteen hundred for the handguns. Two thousand for the rifle. Then you need ammunition.”
“How much?”
“Straight four thousand euros, Blondie.” The Mechanic said.
Maxine snorted.
“Hey, you’re on expenses, aren’t you, Blondie? It’s four thousand. Take it or leave it.”
“Business looks like it’s good.” Maxine said.
“Oh, yes, no one ever went bankrupt selling guns.” The Mechanic said. He closed the gun case, rather reluctantly, Maxine thought. “The bullets come packaged. I have nyclads for the handguns. They’re better for the environment.” He grinned, “Not to mention they pack a bigger punch.”
He opened a cupboard beneath the workbench and took out three large boxes, heavily duct taped. “You’ll have fun getting into those, Blondie, it’ll give you something to do.”
“How about the rifle?” Maxine said.
“Armour piercing rounds.” The Mechanic said, pulling out another heavily taped box.
“You’re joking.” Maxine contained her surprised well, but she was genuinely surprised, and slightly shocked.
“Oh, no, Blondie. These are the real deal. Proper NATO armour piercing rounds. Factory fresh.”
“The army doesn’t let armour piercing bullets vanish with no questions asked.” Maxine said.
“That’s right, Blondie, the army doesn‘t.” The Mechanics said, “But look at it this way, it explains why you’re
