Seeing that the chubby guy seemed interested in the Ferrari, Owen didn't argue and gestured for him to take the wheel while he himself settled into the passenger seat.
Eddie eagerly slid the seat all the way back to squeeze his big body in.
The engine roared to life, Ferrari's signature growl filling the air as Eddie drove them out toward the outskirts of town.
After about ten minutes, Owen glanced at his watch, about to urge Eddie to hurry, when Eddie spoke up first.
"All right, we're here."
Eddie turned the Ferrari off the main road and onto a side path, eventually arriving in front of a small vacation-style cabin.
He parked in front of the cabin but seemed a little reluctant to get out.
"This way."
Instead of walking toward the cabin, Eddie led Owen over to an old, abandoned car nearby. The vehicle was clearly ancient—its tires were flat, the paint was peeling, and the body was covered in rust.
Eddie opened the trunk and did something inside. A hidden hatch appeared—this wreck was actually the entrance to an underground bunker.
Owen glanced at Eddie, impressed. This fat guy was clever. Anyone else would've assumed the cabin was the key point. No one would guess that the rusted hunk of junk was actually the gateway.
Following him down a steel ladder, Owen entered the underground bunker. Eddie hit a switch on the wall, and the lights came on, revealing a sizable armory.
Owen scanned the room. This guy had quite the stockpile. The walls were lined with gun cabinets, neatly filled with various weapons.
"Everything you asked for is here," Eddie said, half-showing off. "And if you see anything else you like, help yourself."
There were assault rifles, SMGs, pistols, grenades, sniper rifles. In other cabinets were night vision goggles, tactical gear, armor, and other accessories.
Like a kid in a candy store, Owen picked up what he needed and loaded it into a basket, then followed Eddie out.
"There's a range out front. You can test the gear there..."
Eddie led him to a small 100-meter shooting range. Owen began testing his weapons.
He loaded six mags into the pouches of the tactical vest and strapped on the grenades. After equipping all his gear, he attached the red dot sight to the M4A1 and began firing.
After a few shots, he adjusted the sight according to the impact points. The rest of the shots went much more smoothly.
The range was like the 3-gun courses he'd trained on in IPSC—targets at varying distances. Owen fired a few controlled bursts and quickly got back into rhythm, transitioning between near and far targets with ease.
In just a few volleys, every nearby target was hit. Years of training had made his aim deadly accurate, even without "bullet time."
As he got into it, Owen picked up speed, drawing the attention of Eddie, who had been munching on a donut nearby.
Eddie couldn't resist the itch. He grabbed a SCAR rifle and joined Owen on the range.
Soon, the air was filled with the sound of rapid gunfire.
The alternating bursts from the two rifles, punctuated by the ringing hits on steel targets, formed a strange kind of melody.
Owen took a glance at Eddie and was surprised—this fat guy could shoot. Fast, accurate, and deadly—every round hit its mark with insane speed.
But Owen didn't train long. The M4A1 and RCBS vest were standard SWAT gear. He was already familiar with them. After testing an MK3A2 offensive grenade and getting a feel for its blast power, he was ready to go.
Nina had only given him an hour and twenty minutes—he was running out of time.
He ceased fire and reloaded the empty mags.
Eddie, drenched in sweat but satisfied, tossed the SCAR aside and walked over.
"You're pretty good with a rifle."
Owen smiled. "You're not bad either."
Eddie really did have impressive skills. His accuracy and speed were top-notch. Clearly talented. But his stamina was lacking—just a short session had him sweating buckets. No wonder he always carried a handkerchief.
"Haha~~ thanks for the compliment. That gear handled well. So… how are you planning to pay? I only take cash."
That question stumped Owen.
He'd been so focused on getting the weapons that he hadn't thought about money. M4A1s were high-end rifles, and with all the accessories he'd requested, this wouldn't come cheap.
"How much?"
"All in, $9,000. Friend discount."
Owen's face stiffened. He didn't even have $900, let alone $9,000.
Eddie noticed the look right away and frowned. "You're not planning to stiff me, are you?"
His hand instinctively moved toward his quick-draw holster. In this business, there were always people trying to pull fast ones. Eddie had to stay cautious.
Owen was at a loss—until he spotted the Ferrari. Then his eyes lit up.
"I really don't have enough cash, but… what do you think of that Ferrari?"
"Hm… don't tell me that car is really yours?" Eddie was skeptical.
"Of course not. Think of it as a hot car. I'm sure you know how to unload it."
Eddie stroked his chin and pretended to think it over. After a moment, he said, "Paying with a Ferrari works. But it's a bit of an overpayment. Tell you what—you look like you're about to stir up some serious shit, so I'll throw in something special. Might be useful."
"Something special?"
Without waiting for a reply, Eddie turned and headed for a corner of the range. Owen followed curiously.
Eddie stopped in front of something covered with a tarp and yanked it off. When the object underneath was revealed, Owen gasped.
"M2HB heavy machine gun!"
He identified it immediately. The M2HB was one of the most powerful machine guns in the world—easily top three in terms of raw destructive force.
Though this one looked a little... different.
"Haha, you recognized it! The M2HB heavy machine gun—Browning's scaled-up version of the M1917. The caliber was upgraded from 7.62mm to 12.7mm. The U.S. military usually mounts it on IFVs or uses it as an aircraft gun."
Eddie was like a kid showing off a new toy, eagerly explaining the gun to Owen while pointing out the features.
"See what I did? I made a few modifications. I mounted it on an M3 tripod and outfitted it with a T-250D tactical remote-control system. It can follow preset trajectories, supports delayed firing, and is fully operable from a phone."
He pulled out his phone and did a quick demo. The M2HB roared to life, shredding a stack of tires downrange.
"You modified this yourself?"
"Of course."
Genius. The man was an absolute genius.
Owen looked at him with newfound respect.
"But how the hell am I supposed to use it?"
He admitted it was a great piece of gear—definitely useful. But it weighed several tons. No way he could haul it alone.
"Yeah, that is a problem." Eddie scratched his head, also a bit stumped. Then his eyes lit up. "Wait… I might have an idea!"
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