SEQUENTIAL ━ Connor // RK800 ✔️

twenty-five ━ point of no return

"As a matter of fact, yes," Mia shook her head before bowing it forward. She had known from the moment they agreed on this plan that her patience would be tested with cruel deja vu's linked to her blindly waiting, but that hasn't made the night go by any easier. "I have been praying," she admitted a little easier now. "That you don't get caught or wounded or destroyed. People usually pray for what is out of their control."

Connor took her hand silently, at first. "You should have more faith in your programming," he hoped a squeeze of his grip would bring her more comfort that his voiced reassurance. "I was made to accomplish my missions, not to fail."

"The other active RK800 was also made to accomplish his missions," she said. Much as she would have liked forgetting that detail making their plan a little harder to execute flawlessly to the end, it haunted the back of her mind.

10:07 PM

The Fifty mark RK800 approached the rundown vehicle, a car which has been reported stolen with a delay of thirty-six hours since the target and Connor have evaded police custody in an insignificant small town in the vicinity of Detroit. Rain poured mercilessly over the whole parking lot, but it did not obstruct in any way the capabilities of his scanners — merely walking around the car clued him in rather easily that there was no one inside the vehicle.

They abandoned the car here, the RK800 noted to his evidence files, stopping his walk at the back of the car, where his right hand grasped the handle and clicked it open.

7:40 AM

Mia stared down at the filled trunk of the car Connor had just opened. They were in the unfinished construction site for a neighborhood, an hour long walk away from the church. Slightly out of breath, she assessed everything they now had packed into three bags. Connor begun unloading them from the car one by one, starting with the backpack with the drugs taken from the police evidence room. There was an unspoken agreement between them that he'll be carrying that one, so he set it aside right by his feet before leaning back towards the trunk and retrieving the folded cold weather clothes he handed over to Mia, as he was already wearing his own.

"They should fit," Connor told her, already working in getting the bags with the supplies for the journey out as well. They've had to disassemble his old body to take inventory of what parts they had spares for, and while Mia claimed that task for herself, Connor dealt with the unpleasantness of theft to ensure that she will not starve to death during their lengthy freighter ride.

"Before you go change," he called after her once he spotted movement in the corner of his eye, thus prompting him to delay getting the last box from car's trunk and instead fish out from the side pocket of the drugs' bag a small, wrecked device she must have recognized immediately given the raised eyebrows ruling over her expression once he looked at her. "I found this amongst the evidence collected. It's of original design."

"I improvised with what I had," Mia murmured along, more interested in tucking the folded clothes inder her left arm and extending her right to take the wrecked EMP jammer. "The voice synthesiser looks mostly intact," she noted after barely a second of turning it in her hand. However, that was something Connor's scanners too had been able to tell. "I can fix it up for you and we add it to the spare parts," she offered, finally meeting his gaze.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could possibly repair it as an EMP jammer again," he presented her with a much different request than what she expected. Being an original design, he had trouble actually identifying how the jammer was supposed to be connected in its working order form, thus he was unable to perform the fixing himself.