Free Kick Ass by Carl Hiaasen Page B

FBI agents for the likes of Michael Platt.
    They shot him only moments after he slithered from his stolen Monte Carlo and took aim. He was hit again and again, yet he did not fall. Somehow, through an animal reserve of adrenalin or pure fury, Platt kept darting and bobbing and firing the Ruger assault rifle.
    In all, seven agents went down in his sights.
    A sad irony emerges from the ballistic tests. Of the first bullets that Platt absorbed, the most deadly came from the gun of agent Gerald Dove. The shot exploded Platt’s right lunga killing wound, but it didn’t even slow him down. He simply ducked around the car, ambushed Dove and Grogan, and kept on shooting.
    To the agents, Platt must have seemed a spectral force.
    The man was hit 12 times: once in the forehead, twice in the right arm and chest, once in the right forearm, once in the upper chest 12 inches below the head, once in the right shoulder, once in the thigh, and multiple times in both feet from shotgun blasts.
    Like his partner, Platt died with one of Mireles’ bullets in his spine. Fifth cervical vertebra.
    That was the one that stopped him. Platt and Matix and their weapons were dragged from Grogan’s car. A policeman reached into the driver’s side, slipped the gearshift to park and turned off the key. Finally it was over.
     
    Machine-gun shortage rattles NRA
    September 7, 1986
    Some deeply disturbing news from our ever-vigilant friends at the National Rifle Association: America is in the throes of a serious machine-gun shortage. Hard to believe, but apparently true. If you’ve tried to buy a new machine gun lately or just trade in that rusty old family favorite, you got quite a shock.
    That darned liberal Congress has passed a law banning the sale of all new machine guns. Incredibly, President Reagan signed it. The emasculatory effect was to limit the number of machine guns in nationwide circulation to a measly 127,000, most of which are probably in Hialeah. The NRA, whose aim is to guarantee enough guns for every maniac in the country, has launched a new lobbying campaign to persuade Congress to repeal the machine-gun legislation. The effort couldn’t be more timely, following the recent slaughter of 14 innocent persons in Oklahoma by a lunatic using three handguns. To think he could have done the whole job with a single Thompson.
    Many of you probably hadn’t heard about the machine-gun shortage until now, but South Floridians have a special stake in solving the problem.
    In recent times the machine gun has become a vibrant and inextricable part of our culture, lending spice and spontaneity to an otherwise dreary drug scene. Thanks to films such as Scarface and TV programs such as Miami Vice, the Ingram MAC-10 is now as indelible a part of South Florida’s image as the palm tree. Are we going to sit still while a bunch of pencil-necks in Washington spoil it? Think of tradition. Remember how the legendary El Loco (the original El LocoDade County is probably the only place with more than one) hung from a speeding sedan on the Turnpike and fired away at a drug rival. And who could forget the photograph of the Colombian traveler machine-gunned to death in his wheelchair at Miami International.
    Miami just wouldn’t be the same without its rat-tat-tat.
    True, plenty of machine guns are still out on the streets, but they’re getting worn out and junky. We all know what happens when you leave your Gustav M45 lying in the backyardone lousy rainstorm and the muzzle corrodes, the trigger starts to jam, you name it.
    The urgent need for new guns was illustrated a few days ago when police raided a crack house in Broward County. Along with cocaine and the usual cache of handguns, two machine guns were seized in the arrest. Believe me, these were the worst looking machine guns you ever saw; they might as well have been held together with paper clips and masking tape.
    I’m sure the coke dealers were embarrassed to be caught with such decrepit weapons, but