"No, I don't think that's going to happen," Meredith said in a still tone.  Her voice sounded a thousand miles away and she didn't quite feel like she was even there.  Like she was even real any longer.  She couldn't quite see, not anywhere but the man and the injured girl and the enormous dead eye of the chrome barreled pistol pointed at her with malice but a stroke away.  However, as the man requested, she gave him the toy.<br/><br/>The throw was something straight out of fast pitch softball.  Meredith's arm whirled in an underhanded circle, FUBAR flashing up over her head like she was going to toss it away.  It described a whirring, thrumming arc, the force of the wind up pulling hard at her shoulder.  Faster and faster and faster it swung, now behind her head, now even with her shoulders, now passing the tightly clenched cheeks of her ass, now down below her knees and starting to come back up towards her tummy.  Meredith put the entire whipping force of her back muscles and shoulder and arms into it and let the FUBAR go.  She pitched it, three kilograms of steel, and aimed for the man's crotch.<br/><br/>Her belly muscles were tight and she shut her eyes, wincing against the expected hammering shots from the pistol.