Heists for Guns

Johnny Reznor walked into Munitions Unlimited Inc. and ordered an Infinity Series no. 2.

The receptionist looked him up and down and sneered. “I’m sorry, sir, that would require much more money than you are used—”

“Cash,” Johnny said, slamming a bulging duffel bag onto the counter. He was still bleeding. It paid to have the fastest ship in the system.

Destroying that communications satellite had earned him thirty minutes. He looked at his watch. He had thirteen left.

“Ulp,” the receptionist said. A slick sales representative materialized out of nowhere and took Johnny by his arm.

“I’m not here for games,” Johnny said, waving the bag of cash. They flew through the entire process in ten minutes. Johnny threw the bag on a table and walked out with a silver case. Over his shoulder he said, “Keep the change.”

Only minutes away until the mercenary rent-a-cops arrived. Johnny opened the case and grinned. He was glad he bought an extra planet. He would need all the ammo he could get.

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