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Jeremy tried to stay in the shadows by the walls or covered by heaps of debris and junk, even though he knew that won’t help against artificially enhanced senses one bit. Still it was safer that way, gave him some confidence. JJ wasn’t much of a fighter, but without a gun in this place and especially at this time he felt naked.

When he reached the shop at last, he already had a plan. Not the best of his plans, but it should do. He sent messages to Rupert, asked him to find some way out of the Harbors, as covert as possible.  Grey wasn’t here, and that old bit of info he stole a year ago was useless now, not worth a shit. Besides he still had fear inside of him, he realized with disgust. He wasn’t able to do anything about it at this point. He’ll just have to sort it out later. Find some haven to relax and decide what he’ll do next. This was the first time in his career he had doubts about what he should do and if it’s better to find some other way to live.

Weapon’s store front was dented, damaged by gunfire and scorched, but still looked incredibly solid. It had very little and simplistic sign: “Armaments” just above the door, painted in dark green, almost indistinguishable. No windows, no fancy stuff – just an old wall with a door. It looked like a bunker.

Jeremy was worried. This place could be abandoned after all and his battered looks weren’t really convincing what he’s a trusty customer. Shop owner, if he’s actually there, could simply ignore him. But after several minutes of very nervous wait, old locks rumbled and heavy door finally slid open. Jeremy walked into tight security chamber and touched sensory plate. “Greetings, customer.” – The voice of a shop’s computer was cold. “Please wait while your solvency is verified.” And almost instantly there was a quiet ring and same, but slightly warmer voice said: “Welcome. You are allowed to list through armories A to D. Please, make your selection.”

Jeremy went through virtual catalogues. There was everything here. From hidden symbiotic needlers to swords, heavy armor-mounted beam cannons and missile launchers and many more he haven’t ever seen or heard of. He chose an autopistol, small and stuffed with electronics to the brim. It was more than enough for him but somehow he kept wandering in the seemingly endless pages.
At the special offers file one toy attracted Jeremy’s attention. It was some sort of arm-mounted CAS helper drone, latest. Pure tech, not that freakish symbiotic stuff and he liked that. It was initially part of some armor, as description said, but due to the lack of main piece it was sold separately and with a nice discount. Jeremy whistled when he saw the price – it was still a lot, but if this gadget’s specs were true – it was worth it.

“Thank you for your purchase. Please, wait a moment while your order is delivered.”

Large niche opened in the wall and he took his firearm from it. Then he heard some clicking noise and his other purchase came by itself. It looked more or less like a black mechanical scorpion with slightly bulky body and long and wide segmented tail. It was smaller than he expected.

For a moment drone wiggled its short sensors in a funny way and Jeremy squatted. After a couple moments of hesitation stretched his right arm forward, unsure of what’s next, he never worked with these.The damn thing stood still and he almost thought it’s broken when it jumped him.

Jeremy fell on his back and gasped for air. Drone grappled his arm, pulled itself up. Its tail wrapped around his arm firmly while mechanical body changed its shape, wrapping itself around his hand like a glove, some mechanical legs tightly clenching beneath. Then it stopped moving and Jeremy felt a connection with his neural interface through finger-ports, touching him gently as if asking for permission to enter his private space. He opened-up and the drone’s calibration was finished.

The drone was heavy, but bearable, as it supported itself with its flexible tail, acting like muscle-enhancer. Jeremy waved his now clawed arm a bit, listening to unfamiliar sensations. He now felt like he could look with this claw-hand, hear or grab or strike. It awaited his commands with loyalty, anticipation and... curiosity? It surely felt strange.

When markets welcomed him again with all their sound and stench and filthy warmth, Jeremy felt himself confident for a moment but his confidence waned quickly. Right before him a man was standing. He wore heavy synthetic coat, dark grey with lots of pockets and zippers, its belt unbuckled. Two guns dangled on his hips, much longer than pistols, wide-barreled and heavy. He was bald, tan-skinned and his left cheek was covered with a network of thin scars. Jeremy looked into his eyes and froze.

Stranger held his hands in the pockets but Jeremy was sure what even if he’d still had that dose of jinx untouched he’d be dead the moment he’ll raise his arm. He was sure now, sure and stricken with panic. “They’ve found me!” he thought. “Those fuckers found me!” He was sure this man was a merc, a combat-spec, a pro. An assassin.