She had four ammunition clips, full and lubricated, along with a thin brown shoulder holster. She wrapped it around her arms, then secured the gun. It was heavier than a modern weapon, its steel cold and solid compared to composites. She needed to get used to it, so practiced drawing it a few times, old reflexes returning, slow at first but soon the gun was a blur. It smelled of oil and smoke and was designed to kill. She swapped it to her left hand; the plastic skin missed some of the finer detail, but it gripped well enough.