[b][i]Ain't No Kid[/i][/b] [b]Hangar, Cruiser [i]Infinite[/i][/b] [i]Jackson stood behind Wilson's Vertibird, a folding table set up before him. In his hands was a large black rifle case, which he set on the table. Opening it, he looked inside to the parts of what appeared to be a large anti-materiel rifle, the weapon painted in a snakeskin pattern. He pulled each part of the weapon out carefully, scope, receiver, bipod, monopod, barrel, bolt assembly, and several magazines loaded with .50 BMG tungsten-carbide armor-piercing shells. Methodically, he began assembling the rifle. He'd never once touched his dad's weapon, he hadn't even seen it up close until now. The weapon had some scratches in the paint, and in the buttstock of the weapon, scores of tally marks were scratched into the metal. With the rifle assembled, he loaded a magazine into it, and locked the bolt, chambering a round. He looked over the rifle, getting used to the weight and feel. It was new, different...[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]