Mature content doth be below. I try to keep it reasonable, but the nature of the subject doesn’t make it necessarily easy to accomplish. So consider this the warning. Language and Gore follow. It isn’t a blood-fest, however.
They drove out to East Old Town, and Ames was a little more than uncertain as to why. She had heard the address, of course, but Bronski had said nothing about what they were doing. He gave her the distinct impression that he didn’t care about idle banter.
Finally, he broke the silence, “Open the gun box.”
“I assume it needs a key.”
Bronski snorted, and flicked something out of his pocket toward her. It was a key. So she tried it on the lock and the locker opened up without a sound.
The guns were definitely not standard issue, and Ames had to resist the surge of nervousness.
“Uh, detective, are these legal?”
Bronski raised an eye as he glanced over at her, “For you, no. For me? I would love to see someone dumb enough to try and take my guns.”
Ames looked at the handles, dreading what she would see if she removed them.
“Take out the two leftmost guns, they should be pistols. One is for you, and one is for me. Keep it holstered… Do you have a holster?”
She resisted the urge to snap, and spoke calmly, “It is against ordinance CR210 for an officer of the law to carry a…
