A few minutes later, he spots a Chevy pickup in his rearview mirrors. It contains three people. One passenger is gesturing to him to pull over. Gary doesn't know what these scruffy guys want and he ignores them. But then he sees the passenger waving a knife, and the driver bringing up a revolver.
Gary says to his fiancee, in what will probably be the understatement of his life, "We've got a bit of a problem here."
Behind them, Gary can see both males exit their truck and run toward him. The driver's hand is actually on Gary's door handle when he pops the clutch and sends his new truck screeching through the intersection against the light. The two men run back to their older pickup, and the chase is on.
They're almost on his bumper. Gary accelerates, hitting open road now, zig-zagging between reaching 95 miles an hour when the speed governor cuts in. Not only are the pursuers keeping pace but he sees the driver aiming a revolver at him out his window
Gary Fadden is a salesman for HK, and among the rest of their firearms, he sells machine guns. In the truck with him is a competitor's weapon he has acquired to test, a Ruger AC556, the selective-fire assault version of the .223 Mini-14. He grabs it now as he throws open the truck door, hoping to hold them off at gunpoint. lie knows his fiancee can't make it to the building's door now, and he screams to her to get down on the floor of the Ford.
The passenger is running toward him, an average size man in ratty clothes with stringy hair, a long beard, and an expression of absolute rage.
The selector switch and manual safety of the AC556 are in two different locations. Gary has not yet fired this weapon and, though he has taken off the safety, he doesn't know whether the switch is set for semi, three-shot burst, or full auto. He yells "Stop or I'll shoot," points the muzzle upward, and pulls the trigger for a warning shot.
The weapon is set on full automatic. Everything is going into deep slow motion, and Gary is aware that the Ruger spits a burst of nine shots before he can get his finger back off the trigger.
There is no effect whatsoever. The attacker is still running at him, perhaps ten yards away and closing fast, reaching for knives at his belt with each hand. The assailant screams, "F*** you and your high powered rifle! I'm gonna kill you motherf***ers!"
And Gary Fadden has run out of time. He lowers the Ruger, points it at the charging knifer, and pulls the trigger one more time. in the ethereal slow motion of profound tachypsychia, Gary can see the spent .223 shells arcing lazily out of the mechanism. He stops the burst, aware that six shots have been fired, as the man in front of him falls heavily to the ground
