Seeing that everybody had begun their vacation, Vincienzo went to take care of his own business. He made his way up to his room to fill his bag with his new loot. These are the things he had in his bag when he left the room: all of his loose gun parts, the disassembled sniper rifle, the sniper's communicator, and an extra belt. He kept his Type 29 under his left arm, and the holdout pistol wedged into the back of his pants. He lit another cigarette as he exited the hotel, hitting the streets.
Soon, he reached a pawn shop nestled between a gift shop and a liquor store bearing the beach's name as its own. A small bell rang as he entered; but the tired looking woman behind the counter didn't even look up from her magazine as he walked in. Enzo took stock of the store, his eyes sliding across the merchandise in a methodical fashion. There were tons of weapons, all locked in display cases. There were also aisles upon aisles of useless trinkets and electronic devices. After a quick study of the store, Ezno approched the counter, clearing his throat to get the woman's attention.
"Bathrum's nixt dough-err." she said, her drawl pushing the syllables out of her mouth sloppily.
Enzo narrowed his eyes before dropping his bag loudly on the counter with a grunt. Hearing this, the woman sighed, lay her magazine on the counter in front of her, and looked up at him. Enzo smiled when she did this and said, "Why, hello there, Miss Sunshine," he jeered, "I see you've noticed me here. I've come to make you an offer of fine wares. You will not be disappointed, lady: I gots lots of stuff in this bag."
One after another, Enzo removed the trinkets in his bag and laid them in a line on the counter.
"I got dis nice sniper rifle, custom made," he started, pointing to each product as he mentioned it; his cigarette swinging around in his mouth, "I also gots working parts for a GP-13 and a Standard Energy Pistol, as well as a charging station for the latter. Now, here's what I'm looking for: I need a flick-knife-- not too fancy, preferably spring-assisted-- and I'd like two holsters for pistols. One to fit a Type 29 and another to fit a snub-nosed forty-five automatic."
He slid his money card onto the counter as he finished, "And put the change on my card."
The woman blinked at him for a moment before sliding the parts back towards him. "Sir, I jest cannut sell there here gun parts. They's not of any use to mah custuhmers. I can give you 500DA for this here rifle. It's mighty fine, If I do say so mahself... An' I reckon' I do. But we do have a lot of holsters in stock here, yes sir. An' I got a lil knife to setcha up alright. Spring loaded, like ya like. It'll be abowat... I reckon fortee dee-ay for them holsters and I'll let this here knife go for twenny-sicks dee-ay. That leaves ya... eighty, niney, hunnert-sicks outta fibe hunnert... That'll give ya three-hunnert an niney sicks dee-ay."
Enzo nodded and pushed the rifle and money card towards the cashier, stowing his weapon parts back into his bag. The cashier took his items and walked into a door. After a magic minute, she came back with the gun holsters and the knife, his money card slipped into its pocket clip. After a thorough appraisal of the goods, Enzo replaced the money card and began re-arming himself. He buckled his extra belt around his waist with the holdout pistol hanging down over the front of his thigh and traded out holsters on the other belt he was using as a bandolier under his left arm. Finally, he clipped the knife to the side of his pants, sticking out of his cargo pocket. By the time he had finished, the cigarette in his mouth had burnt down to a smoldering butt, which he tossed to the sidewalk as he exited the store.
When he had finally reached the beach, the others were all playing around on the sand. Fighting the urge to light yet another cigarette, Vincienzo dragged a chair over near the other crew members and sat down and propped his feet up on a rock. He then set to shamelessly eyeballing all the women in Luca's crew as they enjoyed themselves on the beach.
"Aw, what could it hurt?", he asked himself, finally lighting another smoke.
