Chapter 8 – Logistics

True to the nurse’s word, Tony was released from the hospital a week later. We all celebrated by hitting a steakhouse, and then headed back to my place to talk.

“Okay,” I said, standing up, “Here’s the situation. We’re going to kill the vampire, but we’ll need money to do that. How much does everyone have left? I’ve got $30,000 even.

“10,” was Tony’s response. I looked at him exasperatedly. “What the heck did you buy?” I asked.

“Full-auto AK-47. It’ll get in next week.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“And paid some debts and bought a car.”

“That works. Okay, ten from Tony, thirty from me, that’s forty.”

“I’ve got $2,500,” Phil grinned.

“I’ve got 38,” was Ryan’s response.

“Great. That’s $80,500. Tidy sum. First thing we should, do, though, is buy silver. And not just any silver; we’re going to need as pure as we can get. Any idea where we can get that?”

Everyone thought for a moment, and then Phil spoke up, “My grandmother used to collect silver. Her favorite was a spoon made from Fine silver, whatever that is.”

“Let’s look it up,” Tony suggested, and we gathered around the computer. I looked it up on Wikipedia first.

“Fine silver,” I read, “99.9% pure. Yep, that’s what we want.”

“How much is it?” Ryan asked. I scrolled further down the page.

“Looks like it fluctuates daily, like gold. Around now, though, it’s . . . $18.22 an ounce. How much is an ounce?”

“1/16 of a pound,” Tony informed me, “We’re going to be blowing a lot of money on fine silver.”

“How much are you going to need?” I asked him as we abandoned the computer and headed back to the living room.

“Me?”

“What I was thinking is that you can cast silver bullets and then reload them so we can shoot them.”

“Awesome idea. Hmm . . . going by the different sizes of bullets . . . how many different guns are we going to use, anyway?”

Ryan jumped in enthusiastically. “Our handguns are either going to be in 9mm or 45. Some silver hollowpoint slugs for our 12 gauges wouldn’t be a bad idea, and some buckshot would be nice, too. You’re going to want some 7.62 for your AK, we might even want some .308 for a long-range rifle, and a FAL or two. I’m looking at a Class III version of one of those.”

Tony looked slightly pale at the amount of work he had in front of him. “So?” he asked.

“So . . . 2,000 ounces to start with sound about right? We’re going to have to count on a couple mess-ups on the way, so we’re going to need some wiggle room.”

“A lot of mess-ups, more like, seeing as I have no clue how to melt silver. But yeah, 2,000 should be good,” Tony replied.

“Okay,” I jumped back in, “2,000 ounces of fine silver to start. We’re also going to need a complete blacksmith’s forge for melting and casting this stuff. I’ll do that. Ryan, you can look into where we can get molds to make buckshot, slugs, and bullets.”

“Don’t know if I can do that. The market for molding your own shotgun slugs has got to be kind of small. I can get a CNC machine, however, and we can make our own. It won’t be cheap, though, and neither will the blank molds.”

“Heck with it. We’ve got 80k to spend.” I grinned wolfishly at him, and he smirked back. “So! The price of the silver will be–” I punched it in on a calculator, “–Holy balls . . . $36,440. Yikes. I’ll take care of the silver buying and forge. Everyone else clear on what they’re supposed to do?”

Everyone nodded except Tony. “What do I do?” he asked.

“Start researching how to work a forge, melt silver, and cast silver bullets,” Phil chuckled, “Trust me, man, you’ve got the hardest job.”

Tony looked downright dangerous as he replied, “It’s worth it.”

Everyone filed out of my apartment, already eager to get started, and I picked up the phone. I needed a stockbroker.

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