Free Blind Justice by Ethan Cross Page A

the guns but the atmosphere. Black knew that places like this existed behind the facade of normal businesses, but he had never imagined anything like this. In the movies, hidden weapons caches such as this were dark and lined with steel cages and possessed a utilitarian feel. Savoy ’ s hidden room reminded Black more of a high-end cigar shop—dark wood grains, lighted glass display cases, red leather high-back chairs, a table in the corner topped with decanters filled with dark liquids and brandy snifters.
    Tobi Savoy spread her arms to the room and looked at Black. “Pick your poison. You want a 9mm, .40? Glock, Sig?”
    “I hate Glocks. Their grips feel like you ’ re holding a 2x4. And the Sig Sauer I would want doesn ’ t have a large enough magazine capacity. What do you have in .45 ACP with a double stack mag that holds more than ten rounds?”
    “I like a customer that knows what he wants.” She looked at the case and tapped her fingers against her two front teeth. “Let ’ s see. 1911s are out. No Glocks. Something with an extended mag wouldn ’ t be good concealed under your coat. Berettas don ’ t have the capacity you want. What about Springfield Armory?”
    “Never been that impressed.”
    “Picky, picky. Are you familiar with Taurus?”
    “I ’ ve shot some of the revolvers.”
    “Try this.” She laid a full-framed pistol with a polymer grip and stainless steel slide on the table. It reminded him of a Sig Sauer. “Taurus ’ s are relatively inexpensive, but they have decent products that come with a lot of bells and whistles. Designed for the Armed Forces. External hammer. Automatic double action restrike. Completely ambidextrous. Safe, fire, decock. Adjustable grip with inserts to fit your hand size. Four inch barrel. And a 12+1 mag capacity.”
    Annabelle said, “I thought you Marines were good shots.”
    “We are,” he said with pride.
    “Then why is magazine capacity such an issue? Isn ’ t one or two shots enough to take someone down.”
    “Yeah, but what if there ’ s twelve of them?” Black picked up the pistol and sighted down the barrel, got a feel for the weapon. The grip fit his hand like it had been tailored specifically for him. He instantly fell in love. “I ’ ll take it. I also need a tactical knife and body armor. Actually, make that two sets of body armor, one for me and one for Munroe.”
    “None for me, thanks,” the blind man said.
    “I ’ m supposed to be protecting you, right? Well, this is me protecting you.”
    “Bullet-resistant vests are too restrictive. I have enough restrictions without adding another. You can go ahead and get it, and I ’ ll try it. But I ’ m not promising I ’ ll wear it.”
    After a bit more back and forth, they decided upon a vest and an open-assisted folding combat knife equipped with a Tungsten-coated blade, seatbelt ripper, and glass breaker.
    Munroe said, “Okay, Tobi. What about me? What did Santa bring me for Christmas?”
    Tobi placed a sealed cardboard box on the counter. “It ’ s a bit early for Christmas, but here you go. It wasn ’ t easy to find these. They ’ re still in the prototyping stage.”
    Black noticed Annabelle looking strangely at Munroe, but she didn ’ t comment. She paid their bill, and then they all headed back to the car. Annabelle carried the cardboard box under one arm and led Munroe with the other. Black noticed her glancing down at the package every few feet. He could tell that she was having trouble suppressing the urge to tear off the tape and discover what was inside Munroe ’ s mysterious box. Still, she said nothing as they piled into the Yukon and headed out of DC.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    As they entered the quaint little town of Thurmont, MD, a large wooden sign declared the city as the Gateway to the Mountains. They passed car dealerships, small diners, and other locally owned businesses. Thick patches of trees and split rail fences surrounded several of the homes. Jonas Black