Deviacy (Connor RK800 x OC)

The Search

Each rundown building was more depressing than the last. The windows were broken, the doors flapped as they moved in the wind, and the paint was peeling in big flakes. A block away, the sidewalk was crowded with more homeless people. 

Truly destitute ones, those who had no choice but to live amongst the garbage, some of them sleeping on cots set up in an abandoned firehouse. A few had makeshift tents set up around them, and a few were sitting on the steps of the firehouse, staring wearily at the sidewalk. 

She could only assume that they've lost their occupation due to androids running amok, just another day in their dystopian life. Though something inside her told her it wasn't quite that simple.

The sidewalk was slippery with wet asphalt, and the air was cold and damp. Rain was predicted for the afternoon. Emily shivered as she walked along the sidewalk, her hair billowing in the wind.

"Connor," Hank said, as they walked through the alley towards the back, "you sure this is the right place?" His voice was tight, and he looked worried. Worried, and a little out of breath.  

"A high probability, Lieutenant," Connor answered immediately, "That's why I suggested it, given the circumstances."

The alley was dark and narrow, the sky overcast with low-hanging clouds, and the air still. No hint of spring. A bit of a dispiriting sight, that, and the rain that was no doubt about to fall.

"Well, all right then. So what's the plan of action?" She took a turn in asking, looking from one to the other of them as they walked up the alley towards the back of the dilapidated building. Her gaze flickered over the area. It was old and abandoned, a small alley that had once held industry in the 1800s.

The buildings were old, and more than half of them were more decaying than the others. Wrought-iron fences surrounded the area, and old, moss-covered junk and trash crowded the alley.

It was a dismal place.

"We need to search each floor, starting from the first floor," Connor said, his voice sounding with a faint echo. He cleared his throat, "Neutralizing the deviant is the primary objective, of course. Getting back to the precinct safely is a necessity." The plan was simple. Search each floor, starting from the first. It was a long, tiresome, and probably fruitless job.

However, she had to follow through with it, to see it through to the end. Tread lightly on the suspect's shattered psyche, and see what you find.

Hank shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "All right," he said, slowly, "but what if we don't find anything? What if this place turns out to be a dead end?"

"Then it's a dead end," Connor said, simply. "We search each floor, and we move onto the next. Hopefully, we won't have to search too many."

"We take it floor-by-floor," she said, "we could scatter the place with our findings, and maybe find something more in the process. I don't think that there's anyone in the building we can't handle, so long as we stick together." It was a gamble, but a calculated one. In the end, it was the most effective way of getting the information they needed.

The only way to really cover all bases, in the end, would be to search the whole place, top to bottom.

"What are you suggesting, that we split up and search the area?" Hank asked her, in clear doubt. She was far too aware of that look displayed on his face. 

"The building has five floors, Hank," she said, her voice a calm, even tone. "We can divide that up however you want. You take the first floor, I'll take the second, and we'll meet back here. If there's anyone up there that we can't handle, we'll call for backup." A plan had been formed. Now, all they needed was time and patience.