A man stood at the side of the hallway as Decker stepped in. He was a medium build, although slightly muscular, with short spiked black hair and a stubbly beard. The man’s skin was slightly yellowed in appearance and he had dark brown rings under his eyes. The man was armed with a customised assault shotgun, the barrel had been extended to reduce the spray of the pellets, he was also head to toe in body armour, a big thick plated vest and pads covering his legs, upper arms, and groin.

"Stand against the wall and drop the bag." The man ordered. Decker placed his bag slowly next to his right foot and spread his arms out to the side.

"Good." The man gave his shotgun to a female colleague who had appeared out from behind a curtain. She aimed the gun at Decker’s face as the man patted Decker down and turned out his pockets. "’E iz safe, collect your possessions and follow me."

The man disappeared behind a thick worn curtain; Decker hurried and collected his belongings, walking through the rippling gap in the curtain where the man had disappeared. The woman followed closely almost pressing the barrel of the shotgun in his back. Everywhere seemed to be lit in a dull light, even though the sun had not set yet outside. Decker was lead through a pair of elegant double doors where Young and Erin sat near a wide, dark coloured wood writing table, which had a patterned surface decorated with tulipwood and green-stained sycamore. The evening sunlight pierced through a slitter in the curtains, creating a fiery orange stripe down the centre of the room cutting across the table.

"Take a seat please." The man said. Decker sat down in the slightly uncomfortable gold painted chair that forced him to sit in an upright posture, Decker was more accustomed to the ergonomically designed chairs of the 21^st Century, than an old wooden chair. He looked over to Young who was holding Erin’s hand. They sat facing a huge empty chair across the other end of the table awaiting "Le Corbeau". The doors opened again, none of them dared to turn round and see who walked in.

A man sat down in the chair at the writing table. He was a mixed race man, with a shaven head, he eyes were a dark brown, almost black and he held a cigarette between his thick lips. The man was dressed in a tight black jacket with a black polar-neck jumper underneath. Obviously the man they were here to see.

"So?" the man asked.

"Are you "Le Corbeau"?" Decker asked.

"Oui. I am the one known as "Le Corbeau", my name is Jacques Adélie. You are?"

"Decker Parkes, Smuggler said..." Decker was stopped as Jacques smiled.

"Ahh...Smuggler how is he these days?" Jacques smiled.

"He is..." Decker started.

"Cut the crap! Can you supply us with arms? Yes or no?" Erin shouted startling both Decker and Young; she even took the arms dealer by surprise. His smile had dropped, and his face turned serious.