“Her eyes shifted to the weapon on the table. “May I hold it?” “Sure, why not?” I unholstered the pistol and handed it to her, holding it by the barrel assembly. She held the gun awkwardly, angling it past me toward the stove, the muzzle’s black eye dark as a tunnel to another world. “You can kill me, you know,” I said. “Like in that French movie we saw.” She didn’t seem to hear me. When she spoke, her voice was thick and remote. “It’s so heavy. I didn’t know it would be so heavy.” The air felt charged with static, the kind that comes before lightning.” EspionageFirearmsAffairs Of The HeartLast Tango Book:Last Tango in Moscow: A Cold War Tale of Espionage, the Mafia, and Forbidden Love Source: Last Tango in Moscow: A Cold War Tale of Espionage, the Mafia, and Forbidden Love