Short Tale of a WA-2000

>I was born the 9th of July of the year 1983
>Though to say I was born would be a misnomer.
>What I should say was that I was created on the 9th of July 1983 in the city Ulm, West Germany.
>I do not know much of my place of birth, for as soon as I was created, I had been moved to various locations.
>My life up until now has been one of neglect, but the joy I feel today more than makes up for that.
>But you’re here to hear my short tale of how I arrived here.

>As I mentioned, I was created on the 9th of July 1983.
>As with many of my sisters before and after me, I was chambered in .300 Winchester Magnum and my primary function was for law enforcement for the Bundesgrenzchutz as a sniper rifle with an effective range of greater than 800 meters.
 >Unfortunately, less than 200 of us were ever created.
>As you can tell from my construction, I could achieve everything needed from me, and would have, but I was seen as being too expensive, and precious for use.
>But even so, I was created, and once created, I was sent to Hanover to serve the Bundesgrenzchutz there.

>I was initially well received, though if I had to guess in hindsight, it may have been due to my figure.
>Excitement filled me; as I was stationed close enough to the East German border, ready to aid my fellow policemen and kin to repel any Soviet advances from their cat’s-paw of East Germany.
>However years past and never really did anything wherever I traveled to.
>Most times, I was confined to the station, with an occasional car ride by an officer who either felt pity or was getting annoyed by my boredom.
>It was not uncommon for me to be locked up in the armory at times for misbehaving during those episodes as well.
>Why was I locked up often enough? At the time, I would see my fellow kin go with their officer on patrols, used on the range, and sometimes aided them in actual situations. Me? I deemed too special for much use, and with it I grew envious and desperate for attention.

>In 1989, I thought I finally had my chance for action.
>Yes, I thought that with the Berlin Wall coming down, that the Soviets may try to send in agents to cause unrest.
>Of course, the only unrest that happened was the fall of East Germany.
 >Once again, I continued to linger and languish.

>By 2005, when the Bundesgrenzchutz reformed as the Bundespolizei, I had become something of a relic.
>I was no longer allowed to wander around, and was kept locked up and slept most of my days.
>I’m not sure when it happened or how long I had remained asleep, but I ended up being sold to some rich collector of sorts as “an investment.”
>Due to years of neglect, I felt hardly a need to appear human.
>Didn’t seem to bother him, as he kept me in another locker, sealed away once again from the world.

>Though, I guess I would not last that long as an investment for when I roused from my slumber, I felt the movement of water and the sounds of the ocean.
>Days later, the boat was docked and was moved by airplane.
>I ended up in the United States, in California, where I continued to be another set piece.
>Instead of being locked up as an investment, I was a drug lord’s eye candy.
>While I had more freedom to move around this time, I was still denied my purpose as a gun.
>Instead, I was often fiddled around as a gun, and played with, but never shot.
>I could see in his eyes I was an object of lust, and treated as such.

>Time went on, and through a series of events, I ended up in the hands of Terrence Dean.
>If you were to ask how I came into his possession, I am largely unaware how, other than one day I woke up to find him staring at me in his home.
>I won’t say he was a good man, but he took care of me and kept me safe and maintained in his home.
>I do not know if I had anything to do with it, or if my own story to him moved him, but in 2013 I was seized by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

>During the time I was being held, I could see and hear the feelings of disappointment and frustration.
>It looked to be that my fate was sealed, and I was to be sent to the furnaces for the crime of just being illegally held.
>I cried only a little during that time, but not out of sadness, but out of fear and frustration. I had been alive for 30 years, and during that time I had been denied what a gun truly desires.
>And I was to be broken down and melted.
>Even the Canadian authorities knew what was going to happen, and I could see they wished I had not been found.
>After days of sobbing and feeling utterly dispirited, I accepted my fate and remained as a gun and fell asleep.

>And then I woke up in a place I never expected.
>In 2015, I awoke to the sound of gunfire, and a sight of a large open field.
>The sun was bright out, and looking at me was a man who looked as though he won the lottery.
>Holding me was one of the RCMP that had found me during Dean’s bust.
>To say I was shocked would be an understatement.
>And there, I finally was delivered to a home I had been yearning for.
>Now that you heard a little bit of my history, would you care to take me out back and hit ourselves a few targets?

http://infotel.ca/newsitem/kamloops-gun-club-to-gain-rare-rifle-after-drug-traffickers-sentencing/it18182
http://www.thefirearmblog.com/blog/2015/04/02/wa-2000-seized-canadian-drug-trafficker-given-local-club/