I'd restrict auto-aiming weapons for a few reasons... availability, cost, and gameplay reasons, too.
The gauntlet things sound highly impractical, but possible. Eh. Seems more like they'd get in the way.
Jane rummaged through the crates. Ah, there. She ripped off her prison jumpsuit, not caring about the others, sliding on some camouflage clothing. Knee pads over trousers, a light bullet-proof vest under a dull green t-shirt, a DPM army smock left open above that. She saw the foxes with impractical looking gear, so kind of ridiculous gauntlet. Worthless.
A knife went into a sheath on her boot. She liked to cut things. More satisifying than a gun. She made a spark jump down the steel, and nodded in satisfaction.
A study extendable steel baton. She clicked it out to a full length, as long as her forearm, and repeated watching the spark dance along the length. She collapsed it back and into her pocket.
A handgun. She'd not used them much. Not many around the UK these days, for civilians. She knew roughly how to use one. She looked at silencers, shook her head. She knew from experience the name was a lie of Hollywood: A drop of thirty decibels from 130? Not worth it for a loss of power and accuracy. A holster under her arm is where it went.
Finally, a rifle. Long, heavy barrel. Collapsible stock. Study, accurate, high power. A side-scope, so iron sights were still available. That went on a sling over her back.
Finally, grenades. A pair of smoke. A pair of flashbangs - she recalled the police using those of her. A pair of fragmentation. Heavy metal orbs and cylinders.
She had enough. Strong enough to carry them, yes, but the more you weighed the more noise you made, The more unbalanced you were.
She heard the foxes - the prey - talking, and cast a glance their way. Cannibals, to hear them talk. What vile creatures. She wondered what they'd be like to cut. She sat, leaning against the crates, and watched the others with her unblinking blue eyes.