The Heist of Revelstoke

New Toys!

Victoria closed her laptop. "Ok, guys, I have news on where the leader of the Militia is." Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen, and I peeked my head out of the kitchen, where I was making dinner for all of us.

"It says here that "The leader of the Militia, who is only known as the Paragon of the Skulls, is thought to reside in the Hawaii islands, on an uninhabited island o the coast of Oahu. They named it "Paragon Island" out of respect for their leader, who's real name or gender is currently unknown."

"Well, I guess we're buying plane tickets." Eric said. "Yeah, but we're gonna need our guns, and as far as I know, I don't think there's any gun stores in Hawaii." I told him. "Hey, what if we just fly there in a regular plane? Like, go to an airstrip or something." Victoria asked. "Hey, that's not a bad idea. My uncle Jason owns an airstrip not too far from here. We can go there!" I said.

We all piled into the car with our guns in duffel bags, and we set off to the Airstrip. About an hour later, I was just inishing the last bite of my burger, when I saw the weathered yellow sign with rust-brown letters that read "UNCLE JASON'S AIRSTRIP". Eric nudged me on the shoulder. "I guess this guy prides himself on being an uncle, huh?" He asked me. "Yeah, he does." I laughed.

We pulled into the dirt lot next to the hangar, and a man with red cargo shorts, a beer belly, and a floral pattern shirt that was opened so you could see his many chest hairs, walked out of the hangar. He stroked his greyish beard and yelled. "HEY JADEN! LONG TIME NO SEE!" I waved to him, and we all got out of the car with our bags. Victoria had her own bag, with a .44 magnum. The serial numbers were scratched off.

"Hey, Uncle Jason, I was wondering if you could fly us to Hawaii? Me and the guys wanted to go, but we didn't want to pay for plane tickets." He thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I can. I don't see why not. I'm doin' some repairs on Ol' Bessie (Ol' Bessie is what he called his plane.) so y'all are gonna have to stick around for a bit. Should be ready to fly within the next few hours." He smiled, and went back to the hangar.

"Well? What do you guys want to do?" I asked. Everyone stood silent for a time. "Wanna go get some serious firepower?" Victoria inally asked. " I know this guy who sells guns with no serial numbers." "Woah, who're you, and what have you done with Victoria?" I asked jokingly. "Yeah, yeah, there's a lot you don't know about me... A lot." Victoria said solemnly. Then, she shook her head a bit and smiled at me.

"Ready then? Let's go!" she said. "Hey, Uncle, we're gonna go out for a bit. Just call me when the plane is ready, ok?" "10-4 good buddy!" he yelled from the hangar. We all piled back into the car, and drove to where Victoria's contact was selling the guns. Once we arrived. I noticed a greyish blue Mercedes SL 300 Gullwing in a lone parking lot. Victoria whistled a tune that sounded something like "Camptown Races", and the lights of the Mercedes flooded the dark of the parking lot.

A tall and skinny man stepped out of the car, wearing a suit and a balaclava with sunglasses. "Victoria, good to see you. I presume these are the proclaimed Horsemen I've heard so much about on the telly." He had a British accent, which was very calming to listen to. Then he turned to me. "Well, gentlemen, are you ready to see the Mask's selection of firearms?" We all nodded. He pulled out his phone, and texted someone. We heard a faint engine start, and a semi truck with a large trailer pulled out from around the building.

"Woah!" I said excitedly. The truck pulled up next to us, and the driver, who was also wearing a suit and balaclava with glasses, saluted the man we were talking to. The man opened the back of the trailer, and when the makeshift lights inside flickered on, I was met with a wonderful sight. Pistols, assault rifles, shotguns, submachine guns, body armor, an RPG on the back wall, and, most excitingly, an M134 minigun.

"Well?" the Mask said. "Pick some guns. Since this is your irst time working with the Balaclavas, you get two free guns, except if you choose the M134 or the RPG, then, in that case, that is your only free weapon. We will also give you 500 rounds of free ammunition, and after that, each case of 100 is $50. Now please, gentleman, pick a gun, any gun!."
We all stepped into the trailer one by one. Jacob picked the M4A1 with an M9 Beretta, Eric picked an MP5 and 1911, Zack picked an AK-47 and a Desert Eagle, Lucas picked an AX.308 sniper rifle and a .44 Magnum, and I picked the M134 minigun. "Now, would you like some body armor, or will that be all for now?" We all decided that we would need body armor. The Mask nodded to the driver, and the driver pulled out 5 dierent cases.

He opened them, and what I saw was beautiful. Black kevlar body armor, with shoulder plates, and leg armor. There was also a K6-3 Altyn helmet with each set. We all suited up, and we felt like we could fight God and win. We packed up our new toys, said our thanks to the Mask and his men ("Thank you for your purchases, my friends.") and made our way back to the airstrip.

Once we got back, I lugged our bags to the plane and loaded them in. I was about to put the last bag in, when Uncle Jason came from around the corner. "Woah, you putting more luggage in?" he asked quizzically.

"Uh, yeah!" I searched in my head frantically for an answer. "We just...had some more stuff to bring with us." I inally said. He looked at me like I just said the sky was green. He started to open up one of the bags. "N-no, don't!" I started to say. He pulled out Jacob's M4A1.

"Ooh-hoo, I know exactly what you guys are doing." He stared at me with a solemn look on his face. Then he smiled. "You guys are gonna go to one of them gun ranges down there, ain't ya?" he laughed. "Hoo-eee, I ain't been to one of those in a while." He stared past me at the wall of the hanger and the smile slowly slipped off his face.

He cleared his throat and said "Ok, she's all ready to go! Are you guys ready?" We all nodded and got on the plane, and after some rules from Uncle Jason (No touching my radio, ok?) we were off, but as we approached Hawaii, the sinking feeling in my stomach dropped lower and lower.