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Once I’d selected my weapon of choice, I placed it on a cart and wheeled it outside. I could carry it, but why go through the effort? These things weighed a ton.
Most of the rooms were in use, the soundproofing so efficient all I heard were faint pops.
Sometimes I resented the life I’d been born into. And other times I embraced it with open arms. Like today, when I got to shoot a rocket launcher just because I felt like it.
I’d only get one shot because they messed up the dirt so much. They were also loud. And despite being pretty far away from any houses, nobody wanted to draw too much attention to the range.
Getting them shut down was the last thing we wanted.
Especially now that Gabriel was working overtime on steering Olysses Industries onto a more legitimate path.
The dummy we used for target practice was set up far enough away to pose a challenge but not too far that I’d miss. I heaved the bazooka onto my shoulder, groaning at the effort.
Lining up my shot, it finally felt as if all was right in the world once again. I was blowing things up instead of worrying about paint colors.
The rocket launcher rumbled when I pulled the trigger, the force of the rocket shooting out pushing me back a step.
It hit as intended, the dummy blowing up into tiny chunks.
Beautiful.
I returned the bazooka and messed around with a few of the new semiautomatics Bear had available. I bought three.
“You heard about the new zoning laws coming in?” Bear was leaning on the counter, seemingly relaxed. But the tic in his jaw and tight line of his body said otherwise.
My interest piqued, I finished putting my wallet back in my pocket and turned my attention to him. “I’ve been on a job for the past few weeks. Why?”
“If the mayor gets his way, then all this land will be zoned residential.”
And developers would soon follow. There’d be no more rocket launchers. And the shooting range wouldn’t survive long.Fucking mayor.
“Fuck. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
He tipped his chin at me as I left, his attention back on the gun he was cleaning.
I called Gabriel as soon as I was in the car.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my lumberjack brother.”
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my wannabe CEO brother.”
He scoffed. “There’s nothing wannabe about it.”
“You heard about the possible rezoning?”
“I have.”
His voice had turned hesitant, setting all my alarm bells ringing. “What did you do?”
“I’m taking care of it.”
“And why am I not in the loop?”
“Because I’m the boss, and I can very fucking well make decisions without asking you first.”
Suppressing the curses that wanted to tumble across my lips, I clutched the steering wheel.
Gabriel sounded placating when he spoke next. “I don’t want you anywhere near this. You need to concentrate on finding the shooter.”
