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each shot. It fires on full automatic at four rounds a second—that’s sixty-four pellets downrange in one second. That swarm of buckshot can rip a house down. And you reload just by dumping out the drum and slapping a new one in place.”
    Looking up from the magazine, Paxtun had a strange look on his face.
    â€œYou don’t have to sell me on this, Nicholas,” Paxtun said. “I acknowledge your greater expertise.”
    Nicholas positively beamed with pride at the unaccustomed praise.
    â€œWhere can we find this weapon?” Paxtun asked.
    â€œThe address of the shop is at the end of the article,” Nicholas said as he pointed back to the magazine. “It’s near Marine City north of Lake Saint Clair. The article does say that the Jackhammer is only made as prototypes right now. But it’s been months since the SHOT show and they may have gone into production by now.”
    â€œThank you, Nicholas,” Paxtun said, “would you excuse us for now?”
    As Nicholas left the office, Paxtun looked down at the magazine open in front of him and the smile grew across his face.
    â€œOh,” Paxtun said, “this is too good.”
    â€œWhat?” Arzee said. “The weapon?”
    â€œNo,” Paxtun said as he turned the magazine around on the desk. Pointing to the picture of the man holding the Jackhammer he said, “This man is Ted Reaper, late of the U.S. Navy. I now believe that this is indeed a very small world.”
    â€œReaper?” Arzee said puzzled. “Reaper? You man that guy who screwed up your deal in Bosnia five years ago?”
    â€œThe very same,” Paxtun said with a smile. “Allah works in interesting ways. He’s not only set the tools we need into our hands, he delivered an old enemy to me. This man crossed me badly once, he will now learn just how foolish that was.”
    â€œBut you can’t imagine he’ll sell us what we want?” Arzee said. “And what the hell is he doing in Michigan?”
    â€œMaking guns, by the looks of things,” Paxtun said. “And no, I certainly wouldn’t expect this man to sell us anything no matter what we offered. He’s as upright as a Boy Scout. But he will have a weakness, everyone does.
    â€œI want you to find that weakness. Find out everything you can about this man and his business as quickly as you can. And you have to keep it quiet. I don’t care what it takes, costs, or what favors you have to call in—you find a handle that we can use to control this man.
    â€œIt would be very sweet to force this particular individual to break the law in order to help us. But it will take something very solid to make him hand us over the weapons. If there aren’t enough of them available, he can just make more of them. This article lists a shop address and phone numbers. You find out if he has a family, parent, kid, girlfriend, whatever it is that brought him to Michigan or that he has around here. The records are out there, you just have to find them.
    â€œThis man tried to take me down once,” Paxtun said with hatred in his voice. “Which makes using him all the better.”

Chapter Five
    A loud buzzing roar filled the small room as the big man in the dark blue shop apron held the long steel bar against the wheel, the flexible cloth buffing wheel spinning at more than 1,700 rpm. With his feet spread out for stability, the big man leaned close to the buffer and ran the long steel bar across the face of the wheel. The buzz increased in volume as the rapidly moving cloth stripped dark, cloudy layers of buffing compound off the surface of the steel—leaving a bright shining surface in its wake.
    His face hidden behind the rubber and cloth of a respirator mask and his eyes behind safety goggles, the man leaned into his work, concentrating on the path the steel took as he guided it across the surface of the buffer. His hands were covered in Kevlar