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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] man led his visitors through the grill that served as a gate. The clang of it shutting behind them boomed in the enclosed space. Stepping behind the counter, he unlocked the cage that held the range supplies and removed a bag of reloads and a handful of silhouette targets which he passed to Francisco. The Newcomer detective glanced questioningly at his partner. Sykes gestured rangeward. "Go on ahead. I'll be right in." Francisco nodded, turned to leave. As soon as he was out of sight, Sykes whispered to the old man. "Okay, what did you dig up for me?" Maffet's eyes gleamed. He glanced a last time in the direction of the entrance, more for effect than need. Others would be arriving soon to make use of the range, but they still had the facility all to themselves. "I could catch hell for this if anybody finds out I did it for you. " "Nobody's gonna find anything out, you paranoid old fart. You think Francisco's gonna tell?" Maffet leaned over the counter and looked toward the range, where the Newcomer detective was loading his own weapon. "How the hell can you be so sure of him? He's a Slag. 11 Sykes's expression twisted. "Hey, sure he's a Slag-but he's an okay Slag. Got me? As far as you're concerned he's a detective. " 76 Maffet looked up sharply at Sykes. "Don't tell me you actually like him?" "I don't have to tell you nothin'. You're a civilian now, remember? So what did you find for me?" "Okay, okay. Don't get your ass in an uproar." Maffet's sour look vanished when he unlocked a drawer beneath the counter and pulled it out. The bag he withdrew didn't contain groceries. Maffet reached into the bag and pulled out the biggest handgun Sykes had Page 43 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html ever seen. Plenty of custom jobs in the shops came equipped with longer barrels, but that had nothing to do with power. The bore on Maffet's baby was immense, capacious enough to hold a shotgun shell. Nor was bore size the gun's only unique characteristic. The whole weapon; hammer, cylinder, trigger guard, scope, everything down to the screws, was fashioned of solid stainless steel. There was reverence in Maffet's eyes as he handed it over. Sykes accepted it gingerly, studying it as he flipped it from one side to the other, finally hefting it in one hand to aim it experimentally. It was heavy, yes, but not unwieldy. Maffet looked like a proud parent at Christmas. "You said you wanted the biggest thing I could find. Well, there she is. Cost about a grand. " "You'll get your money, pops. What is it?" "Casull .454 Magnum. You're talking twice the impact energy of .44 Magnum hot loads. Place called Freedom Arms makes these puppies somewhere up in Wyoming. See, it even has a scope." Sykes looked back curiously. "What the hell would anybody want a scope on a handgun for?" Maffet was having a good time. "Hunting." He nodded toward the huge handgun. "Deer. Maybe bear." "Bear, yeah." Though he wasn't smiling, Sykes gave every indication of being satisfied with the old man's choice. He flipped the cylinder open to examine the weapon's interior. "Only holds five cartridges." "Yeah. The shells are too big to fit six in a cylinder. Hell, Matthew, you don't need but one." 77 Sykes fought to hold the pistol at arm's length, taking casual aim in the direction of the range. "Heavy, but not impossible. I won't ask about recoil." "You won't have to." Maffet grinned. "Find out for yourself." The sound of the grill being opened made him look toward the entrance. "Better get started. This time of night the place can fill up fast once the guys start coming in. " Sykes nodded. Picking up the gun and a couple of boxes of very expensive shells, he went looking for his partner. Francisco stood near the far end of the range, looking bizarre in his ear protectors. Unlike most articles of human attire which were cut too small for the average Newcomer, the ear shields were too large. They didn't fit tightly enough over the flat aural openings in the side of Francisco's head and he was readjusting them constantly. Duct tape would probably work better, Sykes mused. The alien was taking careful aim with his regulation .38. His finger barely fit in front of the trigger. Up the range, recent arrivals were [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |