The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (good books to read for women TXT) 📗

There was also the PK30A Assault Rifle equipped with a laser range finder and removable stock. A lightweight weapon with a gas propulsion firing system capable of utilizing multiple types of munitions. It could also fire suppressed with the flip of a switch. With the stock removed, the PK30A could easily be concealed within a shoulder holster.

And then there was the K8, the standard IPF sidearm, a semi-automatic handgun with a twenty-five round clip of cartridgeless ammunition and a computer assisted laser sighting system.

There were small explosive devices that were used to open locks and weakly barricaded doors, and larger ones that could take out sections of walls. There were also various knives, handcuffs, and batons.

Trent walked over to a small display on the wall and picked up a shoulder holster. It had two holsters on the left side and one on the right. He slipped off his suit jacket and strapped the holster on. He then rotated his shoulders, and then made a windmill motion with his arms. A perfect fit. He then took a step over to the wall of handguns. He removed a PK30A, examined it, then pulled back the metal slide with a metallic click, picked up a magazine and slapped it into the weapon. He removed the stock and slipped the weapon into the top left holster. Then he selected the K8 handgun and went through the same procedure of inspection.

Genghis surveyed the arsenal from one end to the other. “Which one am I going to take?”

Trent stopped what he was doing and looked at the Doberman Pinscher by his side. “What do you mean? You're qualified in all these weapons. Just take one.” Then, motioning with his head, “You’ve always been partial to the A56.”

Genghis sat down on his haunches and rolled his eyes, “Hey! Have you forgotten, no opposable thumbs.” And waved a paw in the air.

“Oh, right,” Trent said, realizing this fact. “Well ah, . . .” He started to look at all the options available to them. “Here we go.” He reached up and took down a small weapon and held it out for Genghis. “The Immobilizer, a tried and true weapon of the IPF,” he said happily.

Genghis glanced at the weapon with disdain then back to Trent. “A stun gun? You want me to carry a . . . my . . . my grandmother carries a stun gun!”

“Oh, I adore that woman,” Trent said, with loving admiration.

“Can we leave my Me-Ma out of this and stay on the subject please. I need a weapon! A real weapon.”

“Well, that looks like the only thing we have that you can operate,” Trent said while looking over the cache. “Yes, that looks like about it. It’s thin enough that you can fit it in between your human canine digits. And you can snap it to your . . .  um, your . . . ”

“My whaaat?” Genghis mocked.

“Well,” a slight stammer could be heard in Trent’s voice. “Ah, your . . .”

“Go ahead, say it,” Genghis demanded. “My collar.”

“Well, yes . . .  there.” Trent glanced away, loaded the gun in his hand and stashed it in the bottom left holster. He selected one more from the wall.

“Well, that’s not going to happen because I’m not demeaning myself by wearing a collar.”

“But you have to! I think it’s a human law. Anyway, where else are you going to put it?” Trent reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the collar produced for Genghis.

“Oh, thanks for bringing that along really, thanks.” Genghis started to think about it. He hesitantly took the collar from Trent.

Genghis Khan looked at the offensive object and rolled his eyes and said, “Alright.” Then, with great disgust, “This is going to be so damn humiliating.” He then attempted to put the collar on, but all he could do was just fumble with it. Most likely because he had no opposable thumbs. And then, the collar fell to the ground. “Son of a bitch!”

“Here, here let me.” Trent bent down and retrieved the collar, looped it around his partner's neck and fastened the buckle. “There you go,” he said. Then vigorously rubbed the top of Genghis’s head.

“Don’t,” Genghis said angrily. “Don’t you ever do that again!” If Genghis had an index finger or possibly a middle one, he would have shook it furiously at Trent.

Trent smirked, quite amused with himself, then locked and loaded his third weapon and placed it in the holster on his right.

Reluctantly, Genghis picked up the stun gun and held it in between his human canine digits. He thrust the Immobilizer forward a couple of times as if he was in an imaginary stun gun fight. Then squeezed the trigger to test it. A short, one inch beam of immobilizing laser shot from the front prong in a quick second burst. The Doberman sighed loudly, then sat and using his hind leg like he was about to scratch his ear, awkwardly clipped it to his collar.

After loading the duffle bag with ammunition and devices of all sorts, Trent picked up a wallet from a small wall shelf and put into it all his currency, ID, and other cards, then slipped it into his back pocket. Genghis watched him, then looked at the second wallet on the shelf. He slightly shook his head and heard the distinctive jingle of his collar tags and rolled his eyes skyward.

They closed and locked the armory door and walked back into the science lab. Trent put his suit jacket back on and looked down at himself, then looked at his partner and shrugged his shoulders. “Well?”

“You look,” Genghis glanced up and down at Trent, “a little bulky.”

“Yes,” Trent said while patting down his jacket. “These human garments do not fit as well as my uniform.” He walked over to a small compartment, the door silently slid open and Trent pulled out a black, knee length trench coat. He put it on, looked himself over to make sure