Just for grins - a little more of her story ......
"Let's see it."
She laid the gun on the counter.
"I know this piece. There isn't another one like it west of the Mississippi. It's got some nasty stories tied to it."
He picked it up, hefted it, pulled the hammer back and spun the cylinder.
"Yeah, I know this piece. Last guy that sold it got a grand for it. I'll give you five hundred."
"No. I don't want money for it. I can't sell it like that. I'll trade you. You get the gun. I get the benefit of your expertise. You teach me what you do. You teach me how to be a sniper."
Jake looked her over, mentally assessing the young woman he saw standing on the other side of his counter. A nice looking split. Big blue eyes. Very nice figure. Tits aren't too big, but anything over a mouthful is a waste, anyway, right? That IS what they say, right? There's a little waste there. Not too much. Just enough.
Not like I'm ever gonna get my hands on that.
"Only if you're willing to tell my why ... and only if you're willing to do exactly what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, without question. If you really want to learn how to be a sniper, you're going to work harder than you ever worked in your life. You're going to sweat. Your going to hurt. You're going to have to learn how to do things you never thought you could ever possibly do. Now let's start with why."
"Why ... how do I tell you about why ... I hardly understand myself. I met someone a couple of years ago. We had a brief 'thing'. We really meant nothing to each other, but all the same, he's been running around in my head ever since. Day before yesterday, out of the blue, he saved my life, and my son's and my Mom's. I'm pretty sure he didn't know what he was doing was going to get him killed .. but all the same, there's a part of me that wants to believe he would have done the same things, even if he did. I saw him die. I was there to see it happen and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Afterwards, after it was all over, I swore over his dead body that I would get even with the guys who killed him. I don't know who they all are, yet, but I'll find out. And I will get even. You're going to teach me how."
"I don't know darlin'. That's a pretty tall order. Plus you're asking me to get involved in murder. What makes you think I'd do something like that?"
"I'm not asking you to do anything but sell me a rifle and teach me how to use it. If anyone ever asks, you had no idea what I was up to."
"Okay, fine. Just how do you plan to find these guys you're after? You can't exactly put an ad in the paper, you know."
"I have a name. One name. And a face to go along with that name. After that, I'll just have to figure it out as I go along."
"What's the name?"
"Sully? Big bruiser with a busted nose?"
"Oh, Sister! You don't know who you're messin' with! Patrick Mallory Sullivan is the number two man in Vito Giamatti's 'family'. He's a made guy and he's as dangerous as they come. How the hell do you know Sully?"
"I worked in one of the casinos, in the money room. I used to see him every week or so. We'd chat. Sometimes we'd have coffee. He's the man who killed my friend."