Jack nods, quickly breaks his revolver to check ammunition, snaps it back together and then heads out the door at a cautious pace.
He pats his belt as he goes. There's the wrench, heavy and reassuring. There are the pockets full of ammunition, and those two hypos safe in a hanging pocket under his shapeless jumper. He has plenty of places to store things, and not a one isn't utilised for instruments of destruction. And out there in the city he's hidden bigger weapons, the research camera, the deadly chemical thrower with its preciously rare ammo. Jack Ryan is kind of a powerhouse.
The pistol goes away and the shotgun comes off his back. Break, check ammo -- it's running on empty, he finds, and so as he leads the way he pushes heavy electric buck into its chamber. Fast, deliberate, efficient. It's second nature.
no subject
He pats his belt as he goes. There's the wrench, heavy and reassuring. There are the pockets full of ammunition, and those two hypos safe in a hanging pocket under his shapeless jumper. He has plenty of places to store things, and not a one isn't utilised for instruments of destruction. And out there in the city he's hidden bigger weapons, the research camera, the deadly chemical thrower with its preciously rare ammo. Jack Ryan is kind of a powerhouse.
The pistol goes away and the shotgun comes off his back. Break, check ammo -- it's running on empty, he finds, and so as he leads the way he pushes heavy electric buck into its chamber. Fast, deliberate, efficient. It's second nature.