It was a Makarov IJ-70. Soviet-era, heavy. She’d chosen it for the five-point star on the handle— which reminded her of her home state—and the image it evoked of a war-hardened military commander who, surely, would have fewer second thoughts than was she. She didn’t much want to admit it, but she’d also chosen it for the 16-pound trigger pull. Her brother had told her she could carry it safety-off with no trouble; she just wished she didn’t have to carry it.