Decision Time (The Defender Book 4) by Jerry Ahern

Author:Jerry Ahern [Ahern, Jerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Speaking Volumes
Published: 2011-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“This is a TEC-9. This is a barrel extension. It’s smooth-bored but makes it a damned sight easier to hold on to when you fire from the hip a lot. Each one of these magazines holds thirty-six rounds. I like 115-grain JHPs myself, 9mm of course. Federal’s my first choice, but these days ammo’s hard to come by. The sling makes it easy to carry around.” Luther Steel just stared as the old man, Rocky Saddler, he corrected himself, threaded the barrel extension (which certainly looked like a silencer) onto the black firearm. “Looks like a subgun, but isn’t, which before all these crazy emergency measures came through made it a lot easier to own legally. These days, nothing is. And since most submachine guns are only used in full auto for room sweeping, for most purposes this is just as good.” He was attaching the sling now through two welded-on slots. The sling in place, Rocky Saddler put a full-length magazine up the gun’s magazine well. “I don’t rack the action until I’m expecting trouble,” Saddler noted.

“Mr. Saddler—” Bill Runningdeer began.

“Rocky.”

“Rocky. What if—”

“What if I’m not expecting trouble and trouble comes along anyway? “This.” From under his windbreaker (Steel hadn’t seen it and he usually prided himself on his ability to spot an armed condition) Rocky Saddler took a Browning High Power, the original single-action P-35. The bluing looked spotless in the light from the almost miraculously still-functioning streetlamp.

“I, ah—I see,” Bill Runningdeer said slowly.

“Here’s the way I figure it.” Rocky Saddler nodded slowly, lighting a cigarette. Some older people looked odd smoking, Steel had always thought. But Saddler looked like some character in a sophisticated drawing-room comedy when he lit up, as if he owned the world. “Costigan’s warehouse won’t be the place he’s got anything incriminating stashed, but maybe in the office inside he’ll have left some clue which’ll point us in the right direction. Don’t worry about shooting anybody. The guys who work for him aren’t regular security guards. They’re street-gang people. I think they’re FLNA. If I knew for sure, I’d have offed ’em a long time ago. So if they shoot at us, don’t be worried about shooting back.”

“Ah—” Luther Steel began.

“Now don’t tell me you don’t want to shoot anybody, Luther. I mean, I didn’t assume you were a nutball. Nobody wants to shoot anybody unless there’s a good reason for it. If we have to shoot, there’ll be a good reason for it, so lighten up. If I’ve ever seen a prime candidate for ulcers, you’re it. I’m seventy-three years old—”

“You’re what?” Steel sputtered.

“Seventy-three. I joined up with the Army during World War II and stayed in for Korea. But, like I was saying, I’m an old guy, for God’s sake. I don’t have ulcers. That’s ’cause I learned to lighten up, Luther. And you’ve gotta lighten up too. Take the advice of somebody who’s been there and back at least six times and relax. If you look at this like

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