2000 Hours: I depart my domicile in order to acquire beverages and snack foods for the evening, and also to possibly rent a DVD. On my belt I have my usually carry gear; my Kimber CDP Custom .45, and a full Wilson Combat magazine with a +1 extension. I also carry four extra 8 round magazines on my belt. Besides my pistol, I have a Surefire tactical flashlight/impact device, tactical OC spray, a collapsing tactical baton, and my $300 Benchmade folding tactical pocketknife. I carry two 30 round AR-15 magazines in Kydex pouches as well, for my tactical carbine. In a small holster on my ankle I carry a Glock 26, fully loaded with 11 more rounds. My tactical ensemble is topped off by a sturdy pair of black cordura suspenders, and is the envy of the others at my range. I was also wearing my level IIIA concealed body armor with Level IV ceramic rifle plates in front and back. I could take a .308 round in the back if I wanted to! Anyway, I left my domicile, stealthily, practicing the art of not being seen. I get in my vehicle and proceed to my destination. I press-check my .45 before getting in my vehicle, ensuring that a round is chambered. So far, so good, but my guts tell me that it's going to be a rough night. 2045 Hours: I arrive at the 24hr Grocery, five clicks from my domicile. I was 45 minutes in transit, as I never directly drive anywhere. I make turns, use side roads, and double back repeatedly in case any BGs get the idea to follow me. I park in the lot, and carefully examine the area around my vehicle before getting out. "Hmmm..." I thought. "Little old lady on the corner. Perfectly innocent looking. A little too innocent if you ask me. Could be a trap. I'll have to watch her. And what's this? A girl jogging. How convenient. Undoubtedly a scout for a gang or cult." Seeing these obvious threats, I immediately go into Condition Orange. I'm ready for anything. I press check my .45, making sure it's still loaded, and unbuckle my seatbelt. Cautiously, I step out of my vehicle, and proceed into the store. I make note of all the exits, and make sure I appear alert, strong, and able-bodied, in case the girl at the register wants to try anything. That gum chewing and magazine-reading doesn't full me, I can tell she's up to something. 2115 Hours: Purchasing my goods took me longer than I expected. Several "customers" entered the store, but they looked suspicious. Anybody can rent Nun outfits, and they could've easily been vicious bandits (don't let age fool you; a 60 year old, 5'3" woman can kill you just as dead!) I did a tactical shoulder roll and hid behind a display of bon-bons until they left. Anyway, having secured my sodas, chips, jerky, SWAT magazines, and having rented a copy of The Little Mermaid, I exited the store and headed for my vehicle. I was extremely vigilant as I crossed the parking lot, and it paid off. Here, my friends, is where hit it the fan. 2116 Hours: There I am, in the parking lot of the 24 Hour Grocery, paper bag full of food, drinks, gun magazines, and Disney DVDs in hand, and the first of the BGs appears. He leaps from behind a purple PT cruiser, pistol in hand, firing wildly. I drop my groceries and dive to the side; my .45 is out before I hit the asphalt. I do another tactical shoulder roll as I land, and low crawl around the PT Cruiser. I pop up from behind the vehicle and do a Mozambique Drill on the BG, dropping him like a ton of bricks. Before I can reholster my pistol, the BG's friends appear. They come running from around the corner, weapons in hand, ready to kill me. I laughed to myself; they didn't know whom they were messing with! I knew that I'd need more firepower, but I had to get to my SUV first. I prioritized the threats as they came around the corner; I did a Mozambique Drill on one of the BGs that was carrying an AK rifle, and lunged towards my SUV. Unlocking the back hatch, I acquired my .223 caliber urban tactical carbine. I have a Trijicon Reflex dot sight mounted, and an ACOG in a pouch that's readily accessible. Also mounted is a laser aiming device, a Surefire weapon light, and an infrared aiming laser for use with my Night Vision Goggles (fortunately, it's not that dark out). I also grab a bandolier that I keep with the rifle, which holds six more 30 round magazines, and hit the pavement, ready to fight. The bad guys had slowed and spread out, weaving through the full parking lot like Viet Cong Guerillas weaving through the tall grass, searching for me. I have the advantage, though. I pop up from behind a candy apple red El Camino and put a round into the nearest BG; the round explosively fragments in his chest cavity, killing him instantly, but doesn't over penetrate, so as not to endanger bystanders. I duck back down and low-crawl through the parking lot. After I shot the first BG, the others returned fire. But fortunately, their AK rifles were so wildly crude and inaccurate that they didn't have a chance of hitting me at that distance; they should've been using ARs! I popped up a second time to drop the next bad guy, but through a stroke of luck he was quick on the draw; He fired a shot from his revolver, but I dove to the side before he could get a bead on me. The shot struck the lime green Hearse behind me. I waited for him to fire in my direction five more times. Once he was out of ammo, I knew I had him, as revolvers are obsolete and take five minutes to reload. I popped up and shot him in the upper chest. The .223 caliber round again explosively fragmented, with fragments exiting out of the top of his head and the soles of his feet, killing him instantaneously! Fool should've gotten himself a Kimber. Revolvers are for hunting and cowboy shooting! I low crawled to my next position in the parking lot, to where I was hiding behind a beige station wagon with a vulgar bumper sticker. I popped up one more time, but to my horror I found that the BG was using the little old lady as a human shield! I could've easily made a headshot, but I didn't want to risk it. I held my rifle on the BG, and waited. It was a tense moment, but I knew he'd lose his nerve. He turned to run, wheeling the old lady around with him. I shot him in the back, and because of my .223 caliber bullet's explosive fragmentation, there was no risk whatsoever of the bullet over penetrating and hitting the little old lady. She was fine and he was dead. Fortunate indeed that I made that shot with a carbine instead of a pistol, as a carbine penetrates less than a pistol! Then the last BG appeared. He stepped from behind a parked delivery van, wearing a kevlar helmet, flak jacket, and sporting an M60 machine gun! I dove to the side and did another tactical shoulder roll as he opened up on me. The 7.62mm rounds tore up all of the vehicles in the lot, easily over penetrating everything they hit. Fortunately for me, the M60 and its 7.62mm ammunition are so heavy that he could barely move, and I had the maneuverability advantage. I low-crawled through the parking lot, until I was in a good spot. I waited for him to change belts, and popped up one more time. I shot him square in the chest. The powerful .223 caliber bullet easily slid through his flak jacket and explosively fragmented inside his body! He was dead before he hit the ground! It was fortunate that I used my carbine to make that shot, as it offers more penetration than my Kimber could have. A .223 carbine can penetrate a kevlar helmet at 1100 meters you know! The last BG was dead, and the area was clear. I engaged the safety on my carbine and let it hang on its tac-sling. I headed back to my SUV, and picked up my spilled groceries. Having put the carbine and my bandolier back in its case, I press-checked my Kimber .45 and headed home for an evening of beer, gun writers, potato chips, and the Magical World of Disney!