As Z drove to the nearby weapons cache, he pondered the implications of his new mission. He knew this one would be the most challenging he'd ever attempted. The Golden Eagles and their tyrannical leader, Nefarius D. Scott, had been recruiting foot soldiers globally. Some, as intelligence reported, had traveled from the far reaches of Africa to assist in this latest plot. Rarely did he doubt his own ability to complete a mission but he knew that if for some reason he should slip on this one, not only would he be released from the agency, it would cost the lives of many saintly people, quite possibly his own.
He shook these thoughts from his mind as he pulled up to the clandestine weapons cache. Concealed from the public, the building was surrounded by towering pines and could only be identified by a faded sign out front reading "Dominican." He swiped his ID card at the door and entered without hesitation.
"What's up, brotha?" greeted a black man from a well lit room inside."Deuce," replied Z, "I need some new firepower. The PP7 locked up on me when I was in Tubingen. I can't risk it this time."
"Aight. Well, the best I have to offer is this fine-lookin' Desert Eagle," Deuce said, as he pointed to a lustrous silver pistol on a table covered in with an assortment of weapons.
Deuce watched idly as Z picked the gun up, pointed it at the wall, and examined the barrel carefully. After a few moments of studying it, with a note of satisfaction in his voice, Z said,"Perfect. I'll need the usual side order as well."
"Ha, it's in the bag, man. Now go get those motherfuckers."
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