In the range, Stevens had a man-size silhouette put up. He stood to one side and said, "O.K., let her go."
Paul stood easily, left hand in pants pocket, brought the gun up and tightened on the trigger. He frowned and pressed again.
He scowled at Derek Stevens. "It's not loaded."
Stevens grunted amusement. "Look at the target. First time you got it right over the heart."
"I'll be ...," Paul began. He looked down at the weapon in surprise. "Noiseless and recoilless. What caliber is it, Derek, and what's the muzzle velocity?"
"We call it the .38 Noiseless," Stevens said. "It has the punch of that .44 Magnum you're presently carrying."
With a fluid motion Paul Koslov produced the .44 Magnum from the holster under his left shoulder and tossed it to one side. "That's the last time I tote that cannon," he said. He balanced the new gun in his hand in admiration. "Have the front sight taken off for me, Derek, and the fore part of the trigger guard. I need a quick draw gun." He added absently, "How did you know I carried a .44?"
Stevens said, "You're rather famous, Koslov. The Colonel Lawrence of the Cold War. The journalists are kept from getting very much about you, but what they do learn they spread around."
Paul Koslov said flatly, "Why don't you like me, Stevens? In this game I don't appreciate people on our team who don't like me. It's dangerous."
Derek Stevens flushed. "I didn't say I didn't like you."