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... traps are still fully active."
Ezra muttered to himself as he sat on his camp bed, legs folded, one hand resting under his chin while the Barrett M107 rested on his laps, his fingers brushing lightly across the worn surface of the weapon as he thought through his options.
He stayed like that for a moment, thinking on what to do.
"Okay." He nodded once.
A small, firm motion which signaled he had made his decision.
He placed the rifle back into his space ba ...
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