"Hey, Lola, I'll be right there." Lefty stepped out from behind one of the car-size quadruped robots who acted as support units for the Foundation. The chunky, equine chimera closed a panel on the spider-like robot's backside, secured its bolts with a cordless screwdriver, and patted his left-rear leg. "You're all set, Jamie."

"Thanks!" The robot waited for her to walk away, turned and waved at the new arrivals. "Lola, Enrique, Hiro -- hi!"

"Hi, Jamie." Ramirez smiled and started off across the repair shop. "How you liking the new digs, Lefty?"

"Love it. Wish it hadn't taken the old shop getting blown up to get this place, but I've got no complaints otherwise." She placed the screwdriver in a toolbox resting on one of the workbenches lining the wall. "Guess you're here for your package. It's over there." She waved her prosthetic arm, motioning for them to follow her, and headed for a desk in the far corner.

Ramirez looked around slowly and took a deep breath. Gasoline, grease, cleaning agents, paint, and the smell of old air from tires … she closed her eyes and for a moment she was a little kid again, wandering around her dad's garage while he worked on his car.

Lefty reached under her desk and picked up a box. She placed it on the desk and grinned. "I think you'll like it."

Ramirez opened it and stared at its contents. Resting in a slab of packing foam was what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun minus the pump, and beside it, a holster. She picked it up and arched an eyebrow.

"What in the hell's this?"

"Machiko said you wanted the biggest hand cannon I could find, so there it is." Lefty chuckled, reached under her desk, and pulled out another box. "Here's some ammo."

Ramirez took a closer look at the barrel. "Jesus. That looks about twenty millimeters."

"Exactly twenty." Lefty opened the ammo box, revealing a dozen magazines. "It can use smaller sabot rounds, too, since the full twenty mil would be a bit much under most circumstances."

"Just a bit, yeah." She hefted it and grinned. "Not front-heavy at all. Balanced perfectly. Must have a hell of a kick, though."

"Yeah, but it's got a row of vents along the top, uses the gases from each shot to push the barrel down and counteract the recoil."

"Nice." Ramirez picked up the holster. "Well, this is … interesting."

"That goes on your hip. Since the long barrel would make drawing it kinda problematic, this one holds the gun in with a clip. See that little lever at the top? Hit that with your thumb and the gun pops out into your hand. And when you holster it, it just clicks into place."

"Sweet." Ramirez put the holster on, secured it, and clipped the gun into it. "Guess that's why Machiko wanted me to get an open-carry permit."

"Yeah, there's no concealing this baby."

Ramirez inserted the magazines into the clips on the holster's belt, turned to Hiro and Enrique, placed her hands on her hips and assumed a dramatic pose. "How do I look?"

"Badass!" Jamie said.

Hiro looked her over slowly and his yellow eyes glowed brighter. Even though his beak wasn't flexible, he somehow managed to look like he was smiling.

"You're beautiful," he said softly.

She smiled but couldn't shake off a sudden urge to fidget. The whole situation between him and her …

Just don't think about it. She cleared her throat and glanced down at the gun.

"I feel like I should be wearing leather and chains, like a Mad Max reject."

"Yeah," Enrique said. "Only in your case, it'd be Mad Mex."

She snickered. "Well, now I know what I'm doing for Halloween." She closed the case holding the rest of the magazines. "I should head over to the firing range and get a feel for this thing."

Her phone rang.

"Or not." She dug it out of her pocket, found Machiko's number on the screen, and accepted the call. "Hey, boss, what's up?"

"Got a quick job for you. Someone tried to mug Shakira outside a convenience store. Don't worry, she's okay. In fact, she clobbered the guy as soon as he laid a hand on her. Knocked him out cold. She tried to call the police, but she's been on hold for nearly half an hour, so I need you to run by and haul the mugger in."

"I'll get right on it. Hope he doesn't run off before we get there."

"That's unlikely. According to Otto, the mugger is still unconscious."

"Nice. Shakira must've popped him a good one."

"So it would appear. Otto was, shall we say, quite impressed."

Oh, lordy. From what she knew of the kid, he was probably ready to burst out of his pants by now. "We're on our way."

"Good. Bring him to HQ. We can store him in one of our cells until the cops are ready to pick him up. See you soon."

"Roger that." Ramirez nodded over her shoulders "Got a quick pickup to make, guys. Kind of a milk run, but at least this one's actually doable."