by Eric Vall
“Awww, yeah,” Tony sighed. “Poor dude.”
“You should find us these walkie talkies,” I said as my eyes drifted over the large store.
“Anything else I can do to help you get the guns?” he asked.
“I need a computer,” I said and scanned the walls and aisles. Then my eyes located one in the back room, and there were no store employees around. “There is one in the back room no one is around.” I began to walk in that direction. “Can you make sure we are not being watched? I do not want to alert the police.”
“You got it,” Tony said, and I saw him glance around the store out of the corner of my eye as we approached the side door. “Looks clear, uhhh, except for that video camera mounted up over the door.”
“Hmmmm,” I said as I slowed my walk. Then I used my vision to scan all the walls near me.
“I can make a distraction,” Tony suggested, “then maybe they will focus on me--”
“You need to buy the gun,” I interjected. “It will all be put in your name.”
“There is normally a security room,” Tony said. “Like a guy will be sitting in front of all the screens. He’ll watch them and then run out if anything happens.”
“There are an assortment of screens in the room we are approaching,” I said.
“Really?” Tony laughed. “Maybe this is the security room, and the dude went out to lunch, or he’s not in today.”
“What should I do?” I asked as I turned to him. “If I walk in and get caught, I will have to kill everyone in the store. Then the police will be notified, and--”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Tony hissed as he raised his hands and waved them. “We aren’t killing any more people. Now look, just walk in there, and if I see someone coming, I’ll start talking loudly and try to delay them. Okay?”
“But what if the meatbag sees me exit?” I asked. “He or she will ask why I was in there, and then I will have to destroy him so--”
“Just say you got lost!” Tony hissed at me. “I know you have talked your way out of tons of shit. Didn’t you tell me you were made to infiltrate human bases or something like that?”
“Yep,” I chuckled. “I am teasing you, Tony. I’m not going to kill anyone.”
“Oh, god,” he mirrored my laugh and then wiped his palms over his face. “I’m not used to you pulling my leg. Okay. Still looks clear, get in there and get us some boomsticks.”
“Boomsticks?” I asked.
“Comes from one of the best movies ever,” he snickered. “If we get out of this alive, we’ll watch it. Go!”
I nodded to the dark-haired man, spun around, and marched through the doorway like I owned the place. The room was four meters wide, three meters deep, and covered with a green carpet. I did see the various monitors stacked up on one side of the wall like beehive hexagons, and they did show live video from the rest of the store. My eyes focused on the display that showed Tony, and he ran his fingers through his hair while he paced between the aisles outside of the back room I currently occupied.
“Let us see what you can give me,” I said to the computer as I sat at the desk. Then I willed my tendrils to extend from my fingers, and they snaked into the system and plugged into a USB port.
The password to the computer was password1234, and it took me less than half a second to break in. Then I accessed the inventory of the store and assigned one of the three CZ Scorpion EVO 3 S1 carbines to Tony’s name. I did the same with a Glock 19. The inventory pieces in the database required a linkage to the government approval system, so I searched through the database, found one that had already been completed, changed the customer name, address, and SSN to match Tony and the weapons to match my two selections. I used the same employee name on the ticket order, and then double checked to make sure all of the virtual checks and balances matched closely to the last hundred instances of a weapon being sold through this system. I did not see any errors, so I moved onto the next task.
“Equipment,” I said to myself as I moved through the inventory system of the store.
Unfortunately, a quick search showed me there was no way to assign magazines, bullets, ammo belts, or any other gear to Tony, and I wondered if he could pay for these items with his bank card. Then I got an idea and accessed the inventory for “Store Credit.” Sure enough, I was able to set the variable to whichever amount I wanted, so I quickly created a database entry for Tony that had $5,000 worth of credit ready for him to spend.
Then I accessed the other database on the computer that saved all the security footage, deleted everything from today, and copied over yesterday’s footage in its place.
As soon as I was done, I stood from the chair, walked back out of the door, and joined Tony.
“Couldn’t do it?” he whispered.
“It is done,” I said. “We can now pick up the--”
“What? You did it?”
“Yes, I--”
“You were in there for like a minute, maybe a minute and a half.”
“Remember, I am a perfect bio-android,” I said as I felt the skin of my cheeks begin to heat up. “It was not difficult.”
“Well, I think it’s amazing,” Tony said as our eyes met, but then he cleared his throat after a few moments of silence, and we both looked away from each other.
“Let us retrieve the weapons,” I sighed as I pointed to the back counter.
“Okay,” he said as we began to walk over. “What do I need to do?”
“They are assigned to you in the system,” I said. “You should be able to just take them. I’m not sure exactly how it will work with the interaction.”
“Uhhh, okay,” Tony whispered as we got closer to the counter. “Here goes nothing.”
One of the men behind the display counter had a name tag that said “Al” on it, and he let out a groan of annoyance when his eyes focused on my blonde-blue hair.
“Can I help you two out with anything?” he asked flatly when Tony rested his hands on the counter in front of him.
“Uhhh yeah,” Tony began. “I bought two guns, and I’m here to pick them up.”
“Sure, kid,” the man said as he reached up to touch his waxed mustache. “What did you buy?”
“Ahhh, a Glock … uhhh--”
“A Glock 19 and a CZ Scorpion EVO 3 S1 carbine,” I filled in.
“Huhh,” the employee said as he moved over to his computer. “I don’t recall us having one of the carbines ready to go. What is your name?”
“Tony Amin,” my man said.
“Can I see your ID?”
“Sure.” Tony pulled out his driver’s license and passed it across the counter to the other man with the gray waxed mustache.
“Well, huh. I do have both of those guns registered to you, but we don’t have them boxed up yet. Give me a second, and we’ll--”
“I would like to see them,” I interrupted as I pointed at the wall.
“The Scorpions?” Al asked.
“Yes. You have three of them. I want to pick the best one.”
“Miss, they are all fine weapons, and--”
“Now,” I ordered as I narrowed my eyes at him. “The Glock 19’s also. You have four in stock. I wish to inspect them.”
“Yeah, okay,” Al huffed, and then he gave Tony a passing look as he turned around and reached for the carbines.
“Is this okay?” Tony whispered to me, but he was already turning back around, so I did not answer.
“Now, Miss, have you ever fired one of these weapons before?” he asked while he laid one of the Scorpions on the table.
“No,” I admitted as I reached across the counter and picked it up.
“Well, first you are going to want to check the upper receiver to make sure that--”
“Sure.” I already had the lower receiver pulled away, the trigger group removed, and was pulling the bolt out from the back of the weapon.
Then I held up the body of the gun and angled it up to my eye so I could stare down the barrel. The rifling on
this one was excellent, but the trigger group had a slight burr on the block lever, and it was creating unnecessary wiggle on the disconnector that had a four-hundredth of a percentage chance to result in trigger failure.
I quickly re-assembled this carbine and then reached for the next weapon Al had set on the table. I was a bit quicker disassembling the weapon this time, but I found the rifling of the barrel had a slight quality issue near the end that would result in a bullet becoming inaccurate at two hundred meters. Most shooters would never notice it, but I was not most shooters.
“Give me that one,” I said to Al after I had reassembled the second weapon and gestured for the mustached man to hand me the one he held.
Then I realized Tony, Al, the other two men working behind the counter, and the four customers were all staring at me with their mouths open.
“Miss,” Al started, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take apart and put back together a Scorpion, let alone any firearm, that fast. Are you a veteran or on active duty?”
“I am active,” I said as I beckoned for him to hand me the CZ he held.
“What branch?” Al asked and passed me the weapon.
“Ahhh,” Tony cut in as I started to take apart the third weapon. “She’s not from around here. Not a--”
“She an Israeli?” Al interrupted with a whispered tone. “I’ve seen pictures of women, not as pretty as your girl mind you, but I hear they are amazing soldiers.”
“Uhh yeah,” Tony said after he cleared his throat. “That works.”
“Well, son,” Al said, “she’s a keeper for sure. If a young lady can handle taking apart a weapon easy like that, I’d bet all the money in my pants she’s an amazing shot.”
“Yeah,” Tony chuckled. “She is amazing.”
“This is the one,” I said after I had inspected the third Scorpion. “The first one had a bur on the block lever. Second had a barrel with poor rifling. This one is perfect. Now, show me your four Glock 19’s.”
“Yes Miss,” Al said as he took the carbine from me, shook his head with disbelief, and glanced over at Tony again. Then he shrugged, put the Scorpion on another counter behind him, and opened up the display case where the pistols were.
I inspected each of the Glock pistols in a similar fashion to the carbines and found them to all be in fine condition, so I ended up choosing one with a slightly milder trigger than the other three, and handed that one back to Al.
“Tony will take this one,” I said.
“You got it,” the mustached man replied as he nodded again to Tony.
There were now a dozen men standing around us, and all of them had their mouths opened for some strange reason. As soon as I glanced at them, the men all looked away, exhaled, and then began to busy themselves with either walking through the store, or cleaning the glass of the display case.
“I’m going to get them both boxed up for you,” Al said to Tony.
“I will get the other equipment,” I told Tony as I pointed to the boxes of ammo behind Al. “You should get four hundred rounds of 9mm hollow-point.”
“You got it,” Tony whispered, and he licked his lips a bit as he stared into my eyes. “That was totally badass.”
“What?” I asked.
“You taking apart those guns like that,” Tony said as his cheeks reddened a bit. “Just like … super awesome.”
“Oh, uhh, thank you.” My heart was beating strangely in my chest, but I knew the reasons why. I wanted Tony’s approval. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted him to be proud of me.
“Sooo, uhhhh four hundred?” Tony finally asked. “I looked at the prices of the hollow point, and it’s really expensive for a box of twenty. My debit card is probably going to decl--”
“You have a store credit of five thousand,” I interrupted him. “I will get the other gear I need.”
“Damn,” he gasped. “How did you do that?”
“Computers,” I said as I smiled and tapped my temple. Then I turned from him and walked toward the aisled that held various magazines and gun belts.
The standard CZ Scorpion EVO 3 S1 carbine came with twenty round magazines, but I spotted thirty-five round ones for sale, so I pulled ten of them from the shelf and then moved to the section with the Glock magazines. I would only be using the 19 as a backup weapon, so I just grabbed two more magazines.
“Uhhh, hi, do you want a cart?” a nervous looking man asked me as he pointed the metal cage device he wheeled in my direction.
“Yes,” I said as I dumped my magazines into it.
“So uhhh, that guy you are with. Your boyfriend?” He nodded over toward Tony, who was engaged in a conversation with Al about the various different types of 9mm hollow-point ammunition.
“He is a male and my friend,” I informed the man.
“But like … okay he’s like … a nerd, and you are super hot. Are you attached to him--”
“This morning, he climaxed inside of me four times and filled my vaginal canal, uterus, and fallopian tubes with a copious amount of his seed. So yes, I am attached to him, and not interested in any other male on this planet, in this time period or the future.”
The man’s mouth hung open, and then he blinked at me in surprise as his meatbag jaw flapped.
“Thank you for the cart,” I said, and then I pushed it away from him and into the next aisle.
This row in the store contained belts, holsters, gun straps, and magazine bags. I found a holster for the Glock, a sling for the Scorpion, a belt, and various magazine pouches that would fit on the belt and hold all the full magazines I’d just procured. I also realized I could not just walk around with the carbine hanging from my back in the city without alerting the police, so I picked a soft mesh case I could conceal it in. Once I was done filling the cart, I turned back out of the aisle and found Al typing the ammo into the computer for Tony.
“I’ve never seen this much store credit,” the mustached man chuckled. “You must have returned something big. Woah, Miss, are you going to war?”
“Yes,” I answered plainly as I nodded down at the cart.
“Uhh, just like target shooting,” Tony cleared his throat.
“Ehhh, where you heading?” Al asked as he reached into my cart and started pulling my accessories out.
“Just … uhhhh … metal targets … at … a friend’s house,” Tony said.
“Good on ya,” Al said as he winked at me.
“Do you have walkie talkies nearby?” Tony asked.
“Sure thing,” Al said as he nodded back toward the rows of merchandise. “Aisle eleven.”
“I’ll be right back,” Tony told me before he walked away.
“So, how long have you been shooting, Miss?” Al asked as he continued to scan the items into his computer.
“All of my life,” I answered.
“Well, the CZ will take good care of you, same with the Glock.”
“I will find out in a few hours,” I said with a shrug.
“Heading out now to go shooting?” he chuckled. “I like your enthusiasm.”
“I would rather be playing video games,” I said as I turned to watch Tony disappear into aisle eleven.
“Ahh, really?” Al asked with disappointment in his voice.
“Yes,” I said as I opened a box of the hollow point 9mm bullets and started to fill one of the new magazines.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Al gasped. “Miss, you can’t do that here!”
“What?” I asked.
“Fill the mag up. This isn’t a range. It’s not safe to--”
“Where else would I load them?” I asked.
“Like your car, or home, or … shit Miss, anywhere but here.”
“I do not have a car, and my boyfriend’s apartment is under attack with--”
“Look, you just can’t,” Al groaned.
“Do not worry,” I assured him as I finished loading the magazine with the thirty-five bullets. “You are not my target. Now, continue to process this order, so my b
oyfriend and I can be on our way.”
“But … you … ” Al muttered under his breath, and then he turned around to work on the computer. “I heard Israeli women were like this … ”
“I got the walkie talkies,” Tony said as he laid a clear plastic package with two of the handheld devices on the counter.
“Good,” Al huffed and shot me a sideways glance. “I’m almost done checking you out, and then you both can go shooting.”
“Thanks,” Tony said, and then he seemed to realize I was loading all the magazines, and his body tensed a bit. He raised his eyebrows at me, but I just shrugged and then continued loading them.
Humans were so strange sometimes with their weapons, but it did not really matter. I had already finished loading all the magazines, putting them in their pouches, and then tied the belt around my waist.
“And that’s all of it,” Al said as a slip of white paper came out of a printer. Then he handed it to Tony and slid the boxes with the two weapons across the counter toward us.
“Thank you, sir!” Tony said politely.
“No problem, son,” he replied. “This has been a day I’ll never forget.”
Half a minute later, Tony and I exited the store with our newly acquired weapons in hand.
“Let’s check these walkie talkies,” Tony said as he pulled open the plastic container. Then he handed me one, and we ensured our channels were set correctly before we did a sound check.
“It works,” I confirmed, and then I slid it into my pocket, pulled open the box for the carbine and pistol, and slipped them both into the black soft case I had acquired for transportation purposes.
“Damn,” Tony said as he looked at me. “You look … uhhh … really awesome with that belt on and the magazine pouches and the short shorts, and like … your socks and--”
“Thank you,” I whispered, and I felt my face heat up.
“Look,” the dark-haired man sighed, “I know it isn’t going to work out between us, but I just want you to know that … I mean … fuck. I really like spending time with you, Hannah.”
I glanced down at the ground as I fought against my conflicting emotions. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to tell him I just wanted to spend every day making love to him, playing video games, and eating food with him. I wanted to tell him I never knew joy until I met him.