He assumed he would get a normal centerfire rifle like a bolt-action deer rifle. That’s what everyone had in Forks. When he walked in, though, he saw a wall of M-16s. Well, they were actually AR-15s, the civilian version of the military rifle. They were beautiful. They just looked bad ass. And totally solid. Grant was drawn to them. He had done his homework on ARs and knew that they were very reliable, easy to use, light, and were just about the perfect gun for a variety of uses.
“Chip, could I see one of those?” Grant said pointing to a plain vanilla AR-15. It had a carry handle and a twenty-inch barrel. A standard issue A2.
“I don’t know if I should do that, Grant,” Chip said very sternly. “Once you hold this, you’ll buy it, and then another. Are you ready to join the brotherhood of AR owners?” Chip asked with a devious grin.
“Let’s see,” Grant said with a devious grin of his own. The AR-15 felt fantastic in Grant’s hands. Wow. It was an amazing tool. He couldn’t believe that a civilian like him could hold it, let alone buy it. He had to have it.
“Wrap it up, I’ll take it,” Grant said to Chip with a huge smile. It was liberating. Grant would own an “assault rifle” of his very own.
Owning an AR-15 was the definition of liberty. As flawed as America was, at least a citizen could own something like that. He looked at the gun, which looked exactly like a military rifle (because it was), and thought, “This is freedom.” Grant also thought that it would be much harder for the government to impose a dictatorship on the country when regular people like him had these.
Grant never wanted to use it like that; he hoped that the only thing he ever pointed it at would be a paper target. Grant fervently hoped that. He recalled the figures of the Revolutionary War who constantly talked about not wanting to fight a war. They weren’t cowards; they ended up being the bravest heroes. They were decent human beings who just wanted liberty and a good life for themselves and their families. They worked hard to achieve that without guns. But they all had guns and knew how to use them. None of them were murderers who enjoyed it, but many of them ended up killing. They deeply regretted it the rest of their lives, although they’d had no choice.
Grant couldn’t wait to field-strip that beautiful thing and put it back together again. He watched YouTube videos on how to do it. One day when Lisa was gone, he field-stripped the gun and put it back together. It took a long time the first time. The brand new gun was really tight; he thought he couldn’t get some parts out at first, but eventually he did. It felt awesome to be working on an AR-15. He was no longer a helpless sheeple.
Shooting it was amazing. It was just plain fun to shoot. Little to no recoil. Accurate as can be. He was in love.
He shot it almost every weekend. He had a membership at the local rifle range, which had a covered area that was a must in rainy Washington State. Grant was getting very good with the AR. He was operating it smoothly, like a pro. He surprised himself at how good he was getting.
What a contrast. Grant was getting excellent on an AR out on the shooting range, but when he came home he had to hide it. He kept his AR in a gun case in the garage. It was high up on a shelf. Lisa never saw it or knew that he had an AR. He didn’t show it to the kids. In fact, he didn’t show it to anyone. Grant didn’t want people knowing that he had such a “machine gun,” although it was a perfectly legal rifle. In a crisis, they might try to steal it or insist that Grant protect them. Other people who had them, and who could be trusted, could know.
Grant bought a few books on ARs and learned a lot about them on the Survival Podcast forum. He went to Capitol City Guns and hung out; he learned even more about them there.
Grant was becoming a regular at Capitol City. It was like a barbershop where guys went even when they didn’t need haircuts. He was forming strong friendships there. There were many people from different backgrounds there. He was the only lawyer, but among the “regulars” there were a manager of large retail store, an airline pilot, a general contractor, and a computer guy. Grant would bring donuts. Others brought chicken and pizza. It was a great place. An oasis of “normal” people in liberal, government-loving Olympia.
The guys at Capitol City were Chip’s family. He had been married earlier in life and divorced. His daughter came to the store once in a while. She was a beautiful young lady. Chip lived alone and his parents had recently died.
One day, Chip, who was having a rough day, said, “You know, Grant, you guys are my family. Thanks for being my family.” He seemed like he was going to cry.
Grant didn’t know what to say. He just shook Chip’s hand and said, “My pleasure, man. I feel the same.”
One of the most interesting people who hung out at Capitol City was “Special Forces Ted.” He was a Green Beret at Ft. Lewis. He was in his mid-forties, had black hair, and was always tanned from all the deployments in sunny parts of the world. It was hard to miss him when he walked into the store in uniform. He literally had a green beret on his head. His name was Ted Malloy, or, as Chip called him, “Special Forces Ted.” He got that name because there were two Teds: him and Ted the UPS delivery guy who came in every morning with packages. To distinguish the two, Chip started calling one “UPS Ted” and the other one “Special Forces Ted.”
Special Forces Ted came into the store because Chip took care of him. Chip would get customized rifles and accessories for Ted, usually at cost or sometimes below cost. Ted started to get customized rifles and gear for his team and other Special Forces soldiers. The teams were in Afghanistan then. Chip would hook them up with the good gear that they couldn’t get from the Army. Ted was very appreciative.
Special Forces Ted became a regular at Capitol City. He would be retiring soon. He just went through a nasty divorce. Now that he was leaving the unit, his Army buddies wouldn’t be around like they were in the past. Ted’s “family” of his wife and his soldiers had instantly vanished. His whole world had changed in a matter of a week.
Capitol City Guns became Special Forces Ted’s extended family. He and Chip were particularly close because they were similar; they didn’t have a family anymore so the guys at the gun store became the family.
Special Forces Ted got a kick out of Grant. He thought most lawyers were worms. (Grant agreed.) Ted liked Grant’s attitude. It was so refreshing to see a lawyer in a suit taking apart an AR. Ted especially liked that Grant knew his own limitations; Grant wasn’t a mall ninja. A “mall ninja” was a military wannabe. It’s a person who buys cool tactical gear and walks around a mall to show off to people but has no clue how to actually do anything tactical. Ted liked that Grant was trying to learn tactical things and knew that he started off not knowing crap about it.
Grant had enormous respect for Ted, which was easy to have once he learned about the things that Special Forces do. Most people think Special Forces are commandos who parachute behind enemy lines and blow up bridges like in the movies. They can do that, and sometimes do. However, Special Forces mainly send in a small team of usually twelve soldiers into an enemy-held area and link up with indigenous fighters who are on the same side as the Americans. The twelve-man Special Forces team trains, supplies, motivates, and leads the indigenous fighters to attack the enemy and gather intelligence for regular American forces.
Special Forces soldiers need to be more than just excellent gun fighters. They must be part salesmen and part diplomat to get indigenous fighters to join the American side and stay loyal. They must know how to effectively govern the areas they’re in. They need to know how to keep the indigenous fighters happy by, for example, making sure their villages have food, water, and security. This is actually much harder than blowing up a bridge.