Fat Assassins (18 page)

She stood a little more confidently for her third shot and finally hit the body on the target. “Woohoo! Rock and roll!”

“You’re turn.” Salvo removed the suppressor and shoved me to the firing line.

I exhaled and squeezed the trigger. A giant hole exploded in the center of the target.

I felt the power reverberate from the gun through my whole body. This is some serious firepower. Now I understand why people get high off firing guns. I fired two more shots and decided that this was the gun for me. “I don’t need to test it with the supressor! How much you want for two of these and some bullets?” I asked, laying the gun down on the table.

Salvo laughed. “I think you got the fever! Next thing you know you’ll be hunting deer.” The thought of deer made me shudder. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re one of them PETA hippies, no offense to your parents and all.”

“No. I just don’t like deer.”

“Haha. I reckon y’all ain’t typical. I ain’t never met a woman who doesn’t love Bambi!”

“I don’t like squirrels or chickens either.”

That made him laugh harder. “Alright. Let’s take these back in the bunker and talk business. You can do a little bit more shopping, there might be some more stuff you’re interested in.” He grabbed the guns and led us back inside the bunker.

He laid the guns down onto of one of the glass top showcases. I stared down through the glass at what appeared to be a giant antique artillery shell. I suddenly understood why Rick didn’t want everyone to know he was messing with Emma and made a mental note not to piss off Salvo. This single shell looked like it could kill a couple hundred people.

He caught me staring at the shell. “That’s Willie Pete. It’s a tracer round that I bought from a buddy who brought it back from the Gulf War.”

“Oh, ok.” 

How cute! He nicknames his ammunition! Maybe we should name
our guns.

He went back into salesman mode. “I usually sell the Desert Eagles for $2000 each cause they’re high end and untraceable. But since it’s your first gun, I’ll cut ya a discount. What do you think about $1800 apiece?” We gasped at the expensive price tag.

“Well I could let ya have the 9MM for $700 each. It’s up to you.”

“Could you give us a second to think about it?” Ulyssa asked.

“Sure. I’ll head downstairs and grab a couple things.”

“This place has a downstairs?”

“Yup. This is just the showroom. I keep most of the arsenal downstairs. Y’all take your time. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Ulyssa turned to me. “That 50-cal is nice, but it’s really expensive.”

“Yeah, but it’s a sweet gun! Think about it as an investment.”

“An investment?”

“Yeah. An investment in us killing Marcus and getting the rest of our money from Nicolo.”

“Yeah, but we could do the same thing with the 9MM!”

“But it’s not as sexy as the Desert Eagle!”

“Sexy? Really? You really want to blow $4,000 on guns we’ll only use once?”

“We might use ‘em more than once.” I countered.

“What? Did you forget that we’re still unemployed and this little vacation is funded by the mafia? Sooner or later, we’ll be broke again!”

“Fine. We’ll get the stupid 9MM guns!”

Salvo tromped back up the stairs carrying a black case and some other unidentifiable items. He shoved the test guns to the side and laid the items down.

“Did y’all decide?”

“Yeah. We’re going to go with the 9MM. Maybe we’ll come back for the 50-cal after we’ve practiced more.”

“Sounds good. Let’s get you kitted out then.” He walked over to a corner full of various leather items. He grabbed two bundles of tan leather and handed them to us. “These here are Cordura holsters. You put your arms through the loops where the strap runs across your back and the holster is under your right armpit.”

“We get holsters too? This is awesome!” I quickly pulled the holster into place.

“Why do you sell fanny packs?” Ulyssa pointed at the other bags hanging in the corner.

“Those are gun holsters.”

We laughed at him.

“No, really.” He grabbed one and unzipped the top. “You just put your gun in here. It will hold a 9MM or smaller. You want one of these for your guns?”

“No, thanks. I’m good with the holster.” I said.

“Me too!”

“Next is the silencer, also known as the suppressor. Step up to the cabinet here so you practice putting it on the gun.” He emptied the bullets out of the test gun, unscrewed the silencer and handed it to Ulyssa. He pulled another 9MM and silencer out of the pile and handed them to me.

“Now slide the gun down into the holsters.” We did as he told us. “How does it fit?”

“It’s a little weird feeling the cold metal on the underside of my arm, but it seems to fit pretty good.” I said, strutting back and forth. When we were done with our gansta runway walk, we pulled the guns out of the holsters and laid them back down on the case.

“Cool. I know you said you wanted the 9MM, but I wanted to let you check out these nickel plated beauties real quick before you make your final decision.” He popped the latches on the black case and spun it towards us. We scooted closer as he raised the lid revealing two gleaming Desert Eagles nestled together in grey Styrofoam padding. Two clips and silencers were displayed separately in the case.

“Ohhhhhhh.” We both exhaled in awe.

“I want that one!” I grabbed one of guns, clip and silencer. I assembled the gun and shoved it into my holster. Salvo and Ulyssa stared at me. “What?”

“Dang. You assembled that gun quick!” Salvo answered. “You sure you never used guns before?”

“Ha. You know my parents! I’d never even seen guns in real life until today.” I caressed the gun with my right hand.

Ulyssa pulled the other gun from the case and did the same. “This does seem like a better gun. Does it come with the case? That would make it really easy to transport.”

“I tell ya what….you buy those and I’ll throw in the case, holsters and bullets for free.”

“We’ll take ‘em.” 

We'd just officially purchased guns from an underground dealer.

“Oh, afore I ferget….never, ever use autobon ammo in this gun. It travels too fast and burns too hot.”

We nodded like we understood his warning.

Salvo started digging around in a filing cabinet looking for two full cases of bullets. Feeling empowered by the guns, we continued to strut around like a couple of gangsters. Ulyssa wandered over to look at some of the non-traditional ammo in one the other showcases, while I strolled over to the display cabinet near the bigger guns. I immediately recognized the gun laying on the glass top.

I grabbed it and spun around imitating Tony Montana.

“Say hello to my little friend!” I yelled in my best Cuban accent.

My right arm cramped under the weight of the gun, curling my finger around the trigger.

Fire exploded from the end of the gun as I spun in a circle, propelled by the force of the recoil. The noise was deafening as the bullets bounced around the walls like a real life pinball game. A bullet clipped my shoulder making me fire a final round before dropping the gun and filling the room with silence. Ulyssa threw both hands straight in the air dropping something from her left hand.

Tink. Tink. Tink. A grenade hit the ground at Ulyssa’s feet and bounced across the floor.

Salvo uncurled his hands off his head in time to see the grenade roll to a stop under Willie Pete. It took him a split second to assess the situation with Ulyssa standing there, hands in the air with the pin dangling from her right thumb.

“Run!” Salvo grabbed a surrendering Ulyssa and shoved her towards the bunker door.

I was standing there frozen in shock from my bullet wound when he screamed at me.

“Move! That’s a live shell!”

His panic yell penetrated my shocked brain and I chased him out the exit.

I was two steps from freedom when an explosion reverberated the bunker and sent me flying out the door. I landed face down on the wet grass next to Ulyssa.

Salvo slammed the blast door trying to contain the fiery chaos. I rolled onto my back staring at the furious bunker trying to shake loose from the ground. He paced in front of the bunker mumbling to himself.

My shoulder ached from the bullet wound and I felt a cool breeze on my back where the fire had burned holes in my shirt. I checked the rest of my body for damage. Confident all the damage was superficial, I leaned towards a soot covered Ulyssa.

“Go start the car.” I whispered. “At least you’ll get away if he decides to kill us.”

Ulyssa nodded and crawled off.

Microwave popcorn sounds rattled inside the bunker covering the noise of her opening and closing the car door. Kaboom! The explosion shook the trees like pom-poms.

Salvo collapsed to his knees. “The grenade launchers!” 

I scooted backwards like a crab scrambling away from danger.

In the distance, I heard the trusty Pinto start up and I crabwalked a little faster. Salvo’s shock kept him locked in the kneeling position completing ignoring us. I jumped in the car while Ulyssa was pulling away, dragging my right foot down on the gravel driveway before I could finally pull it to safety and shut the door. I figured that I had just tested the true limits of our friendship by almost killing us in the bunker, so I sat quietly waiting for Ulyssa to talk first. The fragrance of gunpowder and smoke was so overwhelming, I cracked my window to avoid gagging.

“What were you thinking?” Her voice was very controlled and quiet.

“My arm cramped up! I think it was all the gun practice today.” 

She looked away from the road to stare at me. “Seriously?” I nodded and she started laughing. “We are the worst assassins ever! You just blew up the largest weapons stash in West Virginia and almost killed us because of a charlie horse!”

I pointed at her bloodied knuckles and the grenade pin still wrapped around her right thumb. “I think I had some help, thank you very much!”

“I was just trying not to get shot by the worst Al Pacino impersonator I’ve ever seen!”

“We got some pretty awesome guns though, didn’t we?” I was still excited about my newfound shooting talent.

“Yup. Hopefully we’ll get to use them before Salvo kills us!”

“He’ll have to wait in line!”

I looked at my image in the bathroom mirror and felt hysterical giggles surfacing. The ends of my hair were scorched and my face was streaked black like I was special forces. “It looks like we’ve seen some serious combat time.” Ulyssa sat me down on the edge of the bathtub and started trimming the scorched ends off my hair, so I wouldn’t look like Delta Force when we went to Buck’s for karaoke.

“Do you think Salvo will be okay?”

Snip. Snip.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to pay him for the guns and stuff. Maybe we should give him a little extra for the damage. Maybe $1,800 per gun plus an extra $1,400, to make it even.”

Snip. Snip.

“We can’t really afford it, but hopefully it’ll save our lives. We’ll take the money with us tonight. Just in case we see him at the bar. Maybe it’ll keep him from killing us on sight.” She moved out of the way, so I could see my new haircut in the mirror. She’d done a great job, it looked like a salon cut. The bangs were cut at an angle where one part hung slightly over my right eye.

“I’m loving the bangs.” I fluffed my hair. “I’m sorry about almost killing you!”

“Me too. It’s okay. It’s all part of the job. Besides I’m getting used to it! Ready for our first social night of our criminalhood?” 

I stripped down for my shower, feeling vulnerable without my gun. It felt like a comfortable old friend when I slipped it back on over my shirt and covered it with a black leather jacket. I turned in the mirror a couple times to make sure the bulge wasn’t noticeable. Ulyssa had chosen a black peacoat to cover up her gun.

We both wore black slacks, tops and comfortable shoes since we didn’t know when we’d run into trouble again.

I wasn’t going to get caught running from the devil in heeled boots.

Mitsy and Sam were already two beers into the night when we walked into Buck’s. We grabbed two drinks and made our way over to join them.

“Hey y’all!” Mitsy said.

“Hey!” Ulyssa responded.

“Y’all look different tonight. Is that a new outfit?” Ulyssa shook her head. We adjusted our seats where we were seated with our backs against the wall and a view of the entire bar. We unbuttoned our jackets, but left them on to cover the guns.

“Hmmm. Something is definitely different.”

“I got my hair cut.” I offered.

“That must be it! It looks real cute.”

“Thanks.”

Bubba gave us a wave from the DJ stand, where a beefy, blond was hovering near him.

“Who’s that?” I asked, taking a drink from my Diet Coke.

“I guess you didn’t hear the news yet. Bubba went and got himself a trucker girl friend.” Sam announced. “I think her name is Becky. I reckon he don’t mind strong women.”

We all turned to look at tiny Bubba wrapped around the big blond.

“I thought he was gay!” Ulyssa said.

I looked at him a little closer. He was wearing horn-rimmed glasses, a maroon cashmere sweater, and designer jeans. I’d never really paid attention before. I just knew he didn’t look like the other 90% of Nitro men, who just alternated colors on their flannels shirts and picked between jeans and overalls. Johnny was the only Nitro man who dressed as nice as Bubba, but his raw masculinity dispelled any question of his sexual preference.