Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
She'll need more than just Kazimir and Maxwell.
I gazed at all my weapons. Since being at Emily's side, I had been able to generously add to my collection. Now I possessed items that I'd only dreamt about.
Each one had a name.
My mother's family raised me under a strict Christian household. They'd imprinted biblical teachings in my head so much so that I couldn't escape them. Therefore, I'd named many of my guns after women from the Bible.
Martha served as my newest addition. I smiled at the ADS assault rifle. It was designed for underwater use and used by Russian special forces. It could fire seven hundred rounds per minute at a range of up to twenty-five meters. The Lion had hundreds just laying around in the basement. King David simply asked if I wanted one.
In the Bible's Gospels of Luke and John, Martha lived in a village near Jerusalem. She witnessed Jesus resurrecting her brother Lazarus.
While my Martha would witness plenty, none of its victims would be resurrected.
I had two blue guns that I always kept with me—Mary of Magdalene and Jesus's mother Mary.
I picked one of them up, opened the chamber, looked through the barrel from back to front, and then confirmed that no rounds remained inside.
My ex, Adrian had learned the hard lesson about not checking if a gun was unloaded before cleaning it. If I had been there, maybe I might have saved him.
Adrian had removed the magazine, begun cleaning, and accidentally shot himself in the neck. There'd still been a round in the chamber, ready to fire.
The force of the bullet and bone fragments sliced through his carotid artery. He'd bled out quickly and died.
I found him that afternoon. It took forever to get the image of that day out of my mind.
Now you're watching me, Adrian. What do you think? Am I doing a decent job of my life now?
I disassembled Mary Magdalene so that I could access what parts might have become dirty from firing yesterday. I stripped Mary into her major components—barrel, slide, guide rod, frame and magazine. Then I wiped each part with a piece of cloth that already had an oily film on it. This would prevent the cloth from scratching any parts.
When Mary was clean and dry, I put her back together again.
Someone knocked.
Probably Boris.
I picked up the other Mary. “Come in.”
The door opened.
To my surprise, Maxwell stepped through with a lit joint in one hand and a huge glass vase stuffed with a dozen blue roses. “You don't lock your door?”
I gestured to my collection of weapons. “I have enough security in here.”
“Good point.” Smirking, Maxwell set the vase of blue roses on my nightstand. “I came in here for two reasons.”
I dipped a cleaning rod in solvent and began cleaning Mary's barrel. “What are the reasons?”
“Em and Kazimir have been up for a while—”
“Really?” I paused from my gun. “I woke up early to get a head start before them.”
“Never try to beat Em to the base, as soon as you think about it, she'll get a tinkling in her spine and just materialize there.” Strolling over to me, Max placed the joint between his lips and took in all of the weapons.
She's up. Should I go see her? Or will the Lion keep me away from her again?
As Maxwell continued to peruse my collection, smoke left his nostrils. “Very nice.”
I beamed with pride. “You like my ladies?”
“I like your ladies, so much that my dick is getting hard.”
I scowled.
“But, it is though.” Winking, Maxwell took another hit from his joint. “The Lion wants to meet in an hour to discuss the strategy for Italy. It will be in the conference room. Only the top hitters are invited. Therefore, congratulations. You made the list.”
“I'm glad to be on the top hitters list.” I blew out a long breath. “However, I won't get everything cleaned and I'm sure I'll need to use them this week.”
“Facts. But, that's part of the job when you fuck with Em.”
“What's that?”
“Never have enough time to do shit.” Maxwell pointed to the rectangular block on the ground. “What's that shit? A laptop battery or something.”
“That's Anna. She's a Magpul FMG-9.”
“What the fuck is that, Blue?”
“A submachine gun.”
“Oh shit.” Maxwell grinned. “And it folds?”
Nodding, I pulled out the cleaning rod from Mary's barrel. Gunk coated it. I dropped that on the table and grabbed a new cleaning rod, soaked it in solvent, and wiped the barrel again.
“Yo, Blue. Is it heavy?”
“Anna is mostly made of a lightweight polymer rather than metal.”
“Hells yes. I like her, but why did you name her Anna?”
“Anna is from the Bible. She was an elderly woman of the Tribe of Asher who prophesied about Jesus at the Temple of Jerusalem.”
He frowned. “I would ask you more about that, but it would probably bore me.”