We end up in an old gun store.
“Hey kiddo,” Luca says to a boy around my age behind the counter. “You got a gun for my girl?”
“How’s a SIG sound?” He asks, boredom edging his voice.
“P226,” Luca says.
“A SIG?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “That sounds too normal.”
“Considering it’s against the law for me to give you this, I suggest you shut up about its normalcy,” he whispers.
“Can I have handcuffs?” I ask excitedly.
“As long as you don’t do anything stupid with them.” He winks at me.
“I make no promises.”
He’s about to argue when the boy comes back into the storefront, holding a very beautiful hand-gun.
“Promise me something,” Luca says, holding the gun in his hand; just out of my reach. “Don’t shoot anyone that’s bugging you or not following the rules.”
“Am I allowed to hit them with the gun?” I ask.
“You can threaten to.”
“Deal,” I say, and he places the loaded gun into my palm. I love this gun. I mean, I really, really love this gun. I pull the belt from the loops of my jeans and rest the gun against the outside of my right calf, wrapping the belt around them both.
“That was smart,” Luca tells me after he’s scanned the company credit card.
“Thanks. What do we need now?” I ask, scanning the pile of other things he got at the gun store for me. This includes one of those stupid bullet vests, a lot of bullets, a very small knife and a stun gun.
“Show me your phone,” he tells me and I hand him my Rio.
“Why d’you want my phone?” I ask.
He ignores me. “I’ll get you a Blackberry.”
“I hate blackberries. They always break,” I groan.
“I’ll teach you how to make them work properly.” The trip into the phone store is not as fun with Luca as it is with my friends. We go in and he just picks up a phone, scans the card and waltzes back out of the store again.
“NCIS uses these guns,” I tell Luca as we get back in the car, tapping the gun on my leg.
“Half the world uses that fucking thing. They’re good, light, not too much damage, easy to use,” he trails off.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“The office.”
“Officers are boring,” I tell him.
“Get used to them. You’ll be spending a lot of time in one until I can convince the boss that you’re not going to shoot innocent people.” He rolls his eyes.
“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
“Sure. But in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve got a reputation for being a crazy bitch,” he reminds me.
“Well, I guess there is that,” I muse, relaxing against my seat as car speeds down the motorway.
“This is it,” he says, stopping the car and coming around to open my door.
“Your car is child locked.” I stare at the door in disgust.
“I’m a gent. I don’t like a girl to open her door.” He shrugs. That’s kind of sweet: In a really weird way.
“Huh,” I say, running my fingers through the potted plants either side of the door.
“Don’t even comment,” he says touchily. Obviously he doesn’t think they’re such a good idea either. They kind of take away from the macho, secret agency vibe of the office. Then again, that’s probably the point.
“Wasn’t going to,” I hum.
“Ah, Shayne!” Luca calls. Shayne frowns slightly before coming across the lobby to us.
“What?”
“Tour duty,” Luca flashes him a huge grin and waltzes away, leaving both of us staring after him, open mouthed. How could he stick me with him? He hates me!
“Great,” Shayne mutters, kicking at the carpet beneath his feet.
“Where to first?” I ask cautiously.
He gazes at the gun that I’ve put into my pocket. “Well, firstly that gun makes me nervous,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a bloody lunatic and you have a gun that you don’t know how to shoot.”
“Scared I’m gonna shoot you?”
“No, I’m scared you’re going to shoot yourself,” he mutters.
“Thanks for the concern. Will you teach me?”
“Sure. This way.” I follow him out of the building and into an outhouse nearby. He claps a pair of huge headphones onto my head.
“What are they for?” I enquire, pulling them into a more comfortable position.
“Gun shots are loud in an enclosed space,” he tells me, putting a pair on himself.
“Okay. What now?” I ask, pulling something on the top of the gun like they do in the movies.
“You do what you just did. I don’t know what it’s called,” he admits.
“Right. And after that?”
“Shoot the target,” he tells me, gesturing to a full sized cardboard cut out of two people; hostage situation.
“Head shot, right?” I ask, barely concentrating on him anymore.
“Yep. Chest is never a good idea; they might have a bullet-proof vest on.”
“Okay,” I breathe, pointing the gun at the figures and squeezing the trigger.
“Holy shit,” Shayne says. “You hit him right between the eyes.”
“Is that good?”
“That’s fucking amazing. How did you do that?”
“Umm, I pulled the trigger.” Some agent he is…
“You can’t expect me to believe that you’ve never shot a gun before.”
“Shayne. Apart from Luca, can you think of anyone stupid enough to let me within ten feet of a loaded gun?”
“Me, apparently,” he mutters.
