The armory was a sight to behold, much like the library, except smaller and more macabre. It was dark and smelled sort of metallic, the exact way you would a expect a room lined with knives and guns to smell. And there were knives and guns everywhere. It seemed a little excessive, actually, I thought as I watched Katie and Minnie split off into different alcoves and passages. There were literally just cardboard boxes strewn across the floor, which struck me as very hazardous, but, again, I expected it was more for effect than anything. "Oi, Jamie, come here!" Katie called from down an aisle of weapons. She was admiring a display of knives.

Ah, irony, you little bitch.

"What's up?"

"Can I tell you the truth, shorty?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I'm taller than you but why not?"

"Perfect. Being completely honest, there was nothing really wrong with your knife."

"Then why can't I use it?"

"I lost it."

My heart dropped out of my throat. "What do you mean you lost it?"

"I'm really sorry, Jamie. I wan't being careful, and I misplaced it when Oliver gave it to me to look over."

"Did you lose the whole bag?"

"No, just the knife. I gave the rest of your stuff to Minnie."

"Right. That's good, at least." I felt nothing but a strong sense of nostalgia until I remembered what I had put in the handle all those years ago. "Wait. Are you sure it's gone for good? It's definitely not just sitting in your office or whatever, maybe under a pile of papers?" She shook her head. "No, I'm so sorry. I tore my office apart looking for it." 

No, you didn't. "Okay. No big deal.If you see it..." 

"Absolutely."

Mother of fuck. The USB. The USB! I fucking lost it. She certainly didn't. I wasn't stupid. I know when I'm being lied to. She didn't lose the knife. She carefully removed it from the bag because she knows what's in that handle. Or at least, she suspects. Butt why the hell does she want it, is the question. It doesn't have any value, unless... Unless my parents meant it as more than a memento for their only daughter.  Either way, she can't get into the handle without the key, and no one is getting that key. I finger it, on a silver chain around my neck, reaching all the way down to between to between my boobs, so it would at least be very awkward to grab, especially if you were trying to pickpocket it in public.

"Hey Jamie, check this out," Minnie called from across the room. There was no point worrying about it now, not when there were loyalties to be determined and work to be done. Minnie, I found standing in front of a display of guns, mounted to the wall. It was a very... versatile wall. Just that I could identify there were Mags, Aks, and... Jesus Christ, that's a Glock. Since I first saw Johnny pull his out, I have wanted a Glock. They're definitely the most elegant gun out there, a sleek black barrel that screams sex, in my humble opinion. Jesus, I would make love to that gun, if possible biologically.  

"Is that a Glock?"

Minnie grins. "Ah, I see you know your stuff. Yes, it is a Glock. We only have a few, and they're usually reserved for the senior members-" She pauses and considers me. "But I suppose some strings could most likely be pulled for the child of Lisa and Robert Winchester. You have to learn how to work that, by the way."

"Work what?"

"Being the child of Historians Society legends. You're like Harry Potter, but with better hair and potential sex appeal."

"AH."

"Was that an 'ah' of 'Oh, I see' or one of 'ew, sex.'"

"Both."

"Fair enough. So, are you going to take the gun?"

"I can just take it?"

"Yeah. Well, you have to sign for it, but then it's yours until one of you gets blown up or you have a love affair with a sexier weapon."

"Blasphemy, woman. There is no finer weapon out there."

"Whoa, whoa, let's not be hasty, or you'll offend my Mag. Now Katie's .45, that's a clunker. Got about as much sex appeal as Pete."

"I would argue that Pete has quite a bit of sex appeal, actually," Katie called from a shelf full of crossbows.

"Yeah," Minnie said wistfully. "The whole grieving widower thing is really working for him." She looked at me and swore. "I'm not supposed to say anything about that to anyone. You didn't hear it from me, okay?"

I stared at her blankly/

"Oh, you actually didn't hear it from me. Let me guess, my idiot boyfriend told you?"

"Ehhhh."

"Moron." She cocked her head and adopted the sortb of expression typically assosciated with contemplating the nature of the human consciousness. "But he has a nice body, so I'll keep him, I suppose."

"Damn right, he has a nice body," Katie had crossed over to us, and she reached up and removed the Glock from its mount. She handed it to me. "Take care of it, yeah? This thing's going to save your ass far more timess than a person ever could."

I nodded. "People suck. Guns are forever."

As we walked away to go retrieve the paperwork, I heard Minnie yell from behind us, "Are we not going to talk about the fact that Katie just sdmitted that she's in love with my boyfriend?"

"Shut up, Marlow," Katie called. "I'm more into guys with more than three brain cells."