Rochelle Kaplan, the only arms dealer catering to civilians in Colorado, ran a shop called the Rama Arsenal.
As an arms dealer, all the security equipment inside her store was connected only to her own intranet, with zero links to the outside network.
Moreover, this woman was quite cautious, and no external cameras could be found-which meant that sneaking in from the outside was practically impossible; an access point had to be found from inside the building.
As for the interior, Lier did not even have to think about it; there were bound to be 360-degree turret machine guns with no blind spots.
A frontal assault would alert Sixth Street, which would defeat the purpose, but if they intended to quietly deal with Rochelle, those machine guns were no joke.
Click-
The double doors opened automatically. Rochelle was a young-looking Mexican, wearing a white athletic tank top, a pair of camouflage military pants, and a camouflage headband tied around her head.
It was a typical Sixth Street style, though she was not actually with Sixth Street.
She stood behind a bar partitioned by wire mesh, carrying the wariness common to all arms dealers.
"Welcome... Oh, a Valentinos."
Her enthusiasm waned the moment she looked up.
There was no helping it; Jackie's appearance also had a heavy gang flavor: the large patches of tattoos exposed on his arms, the thick gold chain hanging around his chest, and...
They were all Mexican.
Yet she was not scared at all-her confidence stemmed from the turret machine guns in the four corners of the room.
If this big guy made any unusual moves, the turret machine guns could blast him to pieces in a split second-without any exaggerated rhetoric.
Bzz-
The turrets swiveled.
Faced with the pitch-black gun barrels, before Jackie even spoke, his