storm front revolver

I staggered to my kitchenette and fixed myself a tisane tea for the headache, then added in some aspirin. Herbal remedies are well and good, but I don’t like to take chances.
Working on that same principle, I got my Smith & Wesson .38 Chief’s Special out of its drawer, took the cloth covering off of it, and made sure it was loaded. Then I stuck the revolver in my jacket pocket.
Wizardry aside, it’s tough to beat a gun for discouraging men with baseball bats. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to roll over for the tiger-souled Johnny Marcone, let him push me around, let him know that it was all right to walk all over me whenever he felt like it. No way in hell or on earth, either.

Storm Front Chapter 10, Page 130