”He couldn’t believe how easy it was
He put the gun into his face
Bang!
So much blood from such a tiny little hole
Problems have solutions
A lifetime of fucking things up fixed in one determined flash
Everything’s blue
In this world
The deepest shade of mushroom blue
All fuzzy
Spilling out of my head”*

Day 57 after the accident – Marshall DeNardo’s office – h. 10.28 a.m.

He knocks and enters the room without even waiting for me to say “come in”.
A total black look and a military backpack on his shoulder.
“Hey there Marshall” he says, sitting in front of my desk.
“Hey there Dante”, I say back, placing my elbows on it.
He rests his back against the chair and sighs, staring at me. His green eyes seem tired, somehow demanding.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah…”. He sighs again.
“Did you take it?”.
“Yeah…”.
Another sigh, but this time Dante bends on his backpack and quickly pulls out a plastic bag.
“I am glad you made it. Last time Shane called, was pissed off like nobody’s business because I told her that Sanders was yet to be found…. Give it to me” I state, motioning towards the bag.
He rubs his hands on his jeans as I open it.
“This is a really fucked up situation…” he mumbles, staring outside the window at my back.
I close my fingers on the grip and, a second later, I’m observing the infamous 17 mm Glock 17L that I had already seen in those pictures.
“Come on, we don’t have so much time”, Dante urges me.
“Alright” I say, starting to examine the gun.
“Tamper it and make it harmless, I’m not too familiar with Glocks” he points out.
I roll my eyes.
“I know, Jesus Christ, chill out man!”.
Dante lights a cigarette.
“I can’t chill out. I have less than 45 minutes to put it back at its place. If Shane goes back to her car and doesn’t find it, we’re screwed”.
As soon as I start disassembling the truck, I immediately stop.
“Son… of… a… bitch…” I spell between my clenched teeth.
Dante stares at me, the cigarette dangling from his lips.
“What?”.
“Somebody already messed around with this gun…”
“What do you mean?”. He takes the Glock carefully and observes it attentively.
Then, he sees it.
“The lever of the stopper is damaged…”, he murmurs.
“Yeah”, I confirm.
“That Thompson guy gave Shane a gun that could explode in her face?”. His eyes dart.
“Yeah”, I repeat.
“Fuck me…”.
“No, fuck him, that little bastard. We’re gonna send him down when this matter will be over”.
Dante is wordless. Surprised, maybe, for the very first time.
He regains his composure and hands me back the gun.
“Make it harmless”, he says.