He extended his hand reluctantly and took the gun by the barrel, looking at it as if he were studying a valuable jewel. He gripped it by the handle and removed the magazine from its place to check whether there were enough bullets, then pulled the slide back so that the round that was still in the chamber jumped into his hand. He put the lone bullet back into the magazine and reassembled the pistol, like a true professional. Fast, precise, confident. He had experience with weapons, without a doubt. He engaged the safety and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans, at kidney height, under his untucked shirt. After the little show, I had no doubt that at some point in his life he had received military training.
I don’t know which part of that made me more nervous, really.
Aguilera smiled
