6
Mike Munroe stepped up to the two women after the general was out of hearing range.
“What is wrong with you two? Are you trying to get shot?”
Holly, the blonde Australian who had been on his flight—apparently asleep from the moment she hit the seat until the helicopter’s skids touched the ground—arched an eyebrow at him. Clearly practiced to put men in their place, he didn’t bother reacting to it.
The petite brunette on the other hand ignored him completely as she carefully labeled the scrap of metal she’d bagged.
“I mean seriously. The man had a revolver.”
“That’s not a revolver. It’s an M17; a Sig Sauer P320 to civilians. Nice upgrade from the M9 your Army boys used to carry,” the Australian was emphatic.
“He was going to shoot you.”
“Not with a revolver, he wasn’t, mate. Becau
