Chapter 6:Continued
The sun was setting. No helicopters had returned. Gabe moved from his bedroom to the living room. Seamus was asleep on the couch. “Cmon brother. Time to go.” Gabe reached out and touched his brothers shoulder, Seamus stirred.
“Cmon shame, get your guns loaded. We’ve gotta get rolling.”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Seamus shook his head trying to wake up, and nodded affirmative. Standing he walked into the kitchen. There he picked up one of the M-4’s that the soldiers had been using earlier in the day, short barrel, collapsible stock, full auto rockin switch. Seamus picked up a magazine from the table and slammed it home.
Grinning Gabe tossed him a heavy canvas bag. “Load a bunch of mags and hold them in there. Be sure to load some for your pistol to.” Gabe said motioning to the gun Seamus had never taken off his hip.
While Seamus moved to load his ammo Gabe walked back to his bedroom. Grateful to be preparing to go, heavy hearted to leave.
Safe inside his room he limped to his dresser and started going through drawers looking for what he needed. Once he found it Gabe buckled a light leather belt around his waist to hold up his kilt. On top of that he buckled his larger gun belt, thick, old beaten and tough. Before he sinched it tight he pulled the holster and mag holders on. He looked across the room at JJ and smiled. She had tears in her eyes, he knew she didn’t want him to leave. He knew he had to. He pulled on his socks then pulled his boots on. He adjusted them then tightened his laces till he could feel the pressure inside on his feet.
He picked up his big Sig, the 226, checked the chamber and the magazine and pushed it into his holster. He cracked open a new box of ammo and started loading his extra magazines, two twenty rounders, and five fifteen rounders. Two boxes of ammo later he was fully loaded. He put the two twenties on his waist, and the five fifteen rounders in his day bag. A maxpedition versipack, even with all that, a flashlight, extra batteries and a large bowie knife and a concussion grenade they’d claimed earlier, but he wasn’t done yet.
Gabe shuffled into his closet and knelt down beneath the clothes and shoes. He started moving boxes, pushing them aside till he’d reached what he was looking for. A long grey metal case had been hidden beneath all the stuff that hid in closets.
He slid the rollers on the side till the combination was dialed in. He clicked the tabs on the edge and they popped open. Inside lay a parkerized tool, that just oozed danger. Gabe reached out and lovingly picked up his Galil, he’d had it worked over by a gunsmith and was his baby. He liked the Benelli but loved the Galil.
Picking it up he pulled back the charging handle checking the chamber, and walked out to his bed. “Hold this for me?”
JJ nodded and reached out, careful to hold the forearm and the stock.
Gabe walked back to the closet and moved the case for the rifle. Beneath it he pulled out several huge boxes of ammo which he moved out to the bedroom. 5.56x45 Hornady Tap. He pulled out his pocket knife, the same knife he’d dropped in the bathroom the day this had all started, and cut open one of the boxes. Once they were open he started loading up the magazines for the rifle.
One magazine. Two magazines. Three magazines. Four magazines. Five magazines. Six magazines and on. Gabe kept pushing the ammunition in one round at a time. Occasionally he’d stop loading to rub his finger tips. After filling each magazine to capacity he stood the magazine on end in the large compartment of his pack. When he loaded his thirteenth and last magazine he slide that one into the gun itself. He stood and slung the bag from his shoulders. It was comfortable hanging next to his waist without pulling on his belts. It hung at an almost perfect length to be readily accessible when he’d need a reload. Gabe had a feeling he’d need a few of those.
Stepping next to his wife he dug into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a beautiful cherry wood box, shallow, long and wide. He clicked the buttons and the lock on one side clicked open. He offered the box to JJ who silently put her half of the combination in. With a loud click the box opened slightly.
JJ lifted the lid. It had been a while since they’d seen these. Inside the box, on top of black velvet lay two matching 4” Colt Pythons, beautifully finished in a silvery chemical treatment called NP3. They’d given them to each other on their first Christmas together.
Smiling Gabe picked up on, remembering the heft and balance. Pulling the hammer back, feeling the action. Quietly he slide the barrel of his inside a hidden compartment in his bag. JJ rummaged inside the drawer of the nightstand till she came up with a nice leather belt holster. She stood, picked up her revolver and placed it in the holster. Holding gun and leather in one hand she wrapped her arms around her husband. “You’d better come home!”
No threats were needed. Nothing else was said.
From the living room “Dave’s back!”
After several moments Gabe slipped from his wife’s embrace, kissed her lips, feeling the warmth of them. And he turned and limped to the door. Holding the doorknob he straightend up, and left the room.
JJ slipped the holster inside her waistband of her pants, comfortable like an old friend. She saw in her mind her husband leave the room. And a tear slid down her cheek. Angrily she wiped it away and started gathering the boxes of ammo, they’d need a lot of it if they were going to have the fight she was afraid of.
