(The following is the first excerpt from Chief O’Connor’s book, “Vikings, Vampires, and Mailmen,” currently seeking a publisher.  Click here to return to the main book page.)

“Okay, let’s get busy,” I said.

Larry stood up and walked with me back to the car.  The sheriff joined us.  He probably thought we could use a hand with our gear.

“Sheriff, you will need to forget what you saw here,” I told him.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said.

“No, seriously,” I said.  “You’re going to have to forget it.  Honestly, once I tell you the problem’s fixed, you’ll never have this problem again.  Ever.  It could become a huge problem for you, though, if word gets out anywhere around here.”

When we got to the car, he looked at me hard.

“Like I said,” he said flatly, “I’ve heard that before.  I’ve still got clearance for more than you think, sir.  But I like to keep things under my own hat simply because I’d like to see this small, peaceful town stay small and peaceful.”

I opened up the trunk and swung the longest of the steel cases around.  I picked up a pouch and hooked it onto my belt.

“So would we,” I said.  Then I opened the case.

Sheriff Brian Hackett looked down at my customized Mac-10 submachine gun “hose,” complete with silencer, flash suppressor, and conch-shell magazine.  It didn’t look as impressive as when I hooked on all the other gizmos to it, but it looked like the definition of “shit hitting the fan” as it was.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“Yeah, neato aren’t they?” I smiled.

At first glance our hoses didn’t look like Mac-10’s at all.  The Mac-10 looked like the capital letter T with a fat top bar.  Up top was the receiver and barrel, while the bottom part was the pistol grip, trigger, and magazine.  With our hoses, we mounted the main pistol grip and trigger behind where it would normally be, leaving the magazine in its regular place.  With the extendable stock it was more like a small carbine.  In addition, we put a forward grip under the silencer.  This forward grip also had a trigger, so you could fire the hose with either hand.  This was useful both for controlling the weapon, and in case you had to take one hand off the weapon for whatever reason.  As long as one hand was on the gun, it was ready to rock.  There was nothing else like it anywhere in the world.

I took the hose out and slung it over my shoulder.  Larry took out another case containing the cameras and mounts.

“Sheriff,” I asked, “Could you get that last case, please?”

Since the data warehouse could withstand a small bomb going off near it, I figured it wasn’t such a big deal for the sheriff to carry.  If he dropped it nothing would have broken.  He was still staring at the hose as he picked up the last case.

“That can’t be for people going out and stealing mail from mailboxes,” he said.

“I get very angry when people steal mail from mailboxes,” I said.

click here to go back