‘Never occurred to me,’ Pellen said, shaking her head. Daven inspected her. She was an attractive woman and he wondered why she had felt the need to go catadapt. She was also, he felt, a bit naive for this sort of operation. People who had spent most of their formative years on an Outlink station tended to be that way. No doubt ECS had sent her out here as part of her training. Easy way in, trying to track down a few arms runners, especially with Jill, the Golem, to dig her out of any pit traps. The stakes had gone up though as soon as Jill had seen Arian Pelter coming out of Grendel’s place. Now things might just get a little sticky.

‘Two of them. Three o’clock,’ said Pellen abruptly.

Daven lifted his attention from the sludge below the screen and looked where directed. It was the slick mercenary with a rainfilm over his business suit, and the heavy who had met Pelter outside The Sharrow. They were sauntering towards the metrotel. Velet and Jill should be along behind them any time now. As he reached for the intensifier on the dash, Daven heard a low thump, then rain and warm damp air gusted into the AGC. Rear-door lock blown, shit! He had no time to get to his stomach holster. A hand closed in his hair and cold metal pressed into his throat.

‘Now, that nasty little thin-gun you have down there you can carefully pull out and drop on the floor,’ said Mennecken.

Daven saw that the other two mercenaries were now quickly coming in their direction. ‘What do you want?’ he asked, carefully moving his hand towards his gun. He glanced at Pellen, who was staring in horror at the both of them. If she did anything, he was dead. He gave a slight shake of his head and was rewarded with a touch of keen pain at his throat.

‘The gun,’ Mennecken repeated.

Daven slowly pulled the gun from its holster and let it drop. ‘Just tell me what you want,’ he said.

‘I want you to be quiet,’ said Mennecken. He shoved Daven’s head forward and drew the razor-sharp ceramal blade back, and then he turned with a smile to Pellen. She stifled a scream as Daven fumbled at his throat trying to stem the blood gushing on the floor and all over his discarded weapon, then she reacted. Claws, which were not normally part of the cat adaptation, extruded from the ends of her fingers. She swiped Mennecken hard, opening deep slices on his face. Mennecken reeled back and swore, and in that moment Pellen popped the door and was out of it.

‘Bitch!’