“Wow…” I whisper, leaning forward, my hand shooting out to touch the long, slim silver rifle that the Captain lifts out of the bag and sets up straight, balancing it on its two bipod legs so it stands up on its own. At the last second, I pull my hand back, not sure if I should.
“Go on,” the captain says, and I look up into his face to see a proud smile there. “I had this commissioned for you about a month ago – just got delivered over the weekend. Damn lucky you passed that Chemistry exam, too, because if the military had to pay for a lightweight miniature rifle like this that no one else could use…” his cheeks puff out as he imagines it. “I’d have hell to pay to your uncle.”
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