"Victim is Anton Komack. Lived in Westlake. Single gunshot wound to the upper torso. Large caliber round," Jemma said as they walked over the body on the subway platform.
"Whatcha got, Stiles?" he asked the other detective.
"Looks like three shots fired. One through the skylight, one through that guy's celo, and one into Mister Lucky here, which fragmented on the wall. The transit police said he was running. They stopped him on the platform," Stiles told them. "He was agitated, saying 'they're gonna kill me'."
"Three shots, no one saw a shooter?" Leonard asked.
"Correct. And we only recovered one bullet," Stiles said.
Leonard raised an eyebrow, "One bullet?"
"It is possible that a single bullet was responsible for all three impacts. If fired from the perfect angle and traveling along a consistent trajectory, I believe a bullet could have cut through the skylight, continued through the celo, bounced against the wall, ricocheted to the floor, and penetrated the victim's chest cavity," Stiles' VX said.
"Let me get this straight. You're suggesting that a single bullet came through the skylight, ricocheted and bounced its way through the subway, and then just miraculously hit a man square in the chest, who was, according to witnesses, running and screaming 'They're gonna kill me'?" Leonard asked the synthetic.
"While the likelihood seems improbable, there is a point zero-zero-four percent chance that a shooter firing with this morning's five miles per hour northwesterly winds, would release a bullet that would only increase speed until hitting the skylight, where the trajectory would change nominally and the bullet would increase velocity due to air conditioning within the station. A temporary deformation, coupled with inertia and the molecular structure of the wall, the celo, and the floor, would inevitably allow for a fatal impact," the VX said.
"Makes sense to me," Stiles quipped.
Leonard looked at his partner, who was examining the slug, "What do you think?"
"Obviously, this is just a first look, but it appears that there's only residue from the skylight, and residue from the celo. Yet there's no residue from the floor, making the likelihood that it bounced or ricocheted unlikely," Jemma said.
"Detective McCoy, I appreciate you seeking multiple scenarios as to how this homicide occurred. And I understand your partner is trying to assist you. However, I must remind you that your partner is a JTK. A discontinued..." the VX started but Leonard put his hand over the android's mouth.
"Please, Jem, do continue," he said.
"If you look here, there seems to be some sort of circuitry embedded in the slug," she told him. "Now, we can't be sure until we a get a full analysis but these markings don't look like scratches from a bullet hitting a wall."
"Again, Detective McCoy, your JTK is inferior. Its computing power is eighteen billion trilihertz less than my own." That thing did not just call Jem inferior.
Jemma ignored the VX, "It's not something you see every day. On top of that, I genuinely believe that one bullet did do..."
"It does not have the ability," the VX cut her off.
"…all of this damage…" she tried to continue.
"…to rationalize, analyze or deduct. Her intelligence is subpar…" the VX kept talking over Jem.
"Just not a ricochet, as suggested by VX-three-oh-two," Jemma said.
"You are damaging your incident arrest quota. By having an obsolete JTK, you are continuing to listen to a retired old system, believing the rambling and illogical theories of your appropriately canceled partner. If you would like, I can put in a request for you to be partnered with a VX," the thing said and that was it. Leonard drew his weapon and put a bullet in the VX's head. Everything above the neck shattered in a mess of blue and purple pieces.
"What the fuck, McCoy?" Stiles said.
"Jemma, you were saying."
"Are you out of your mind?" Pike asked him. "You do not draw your weapon, let alone fire it in a public place unless you're in danger!"
"Doesn't fire his weapon? Who cares about him firing his weapon? He's fired it at my VX!" Stiles yelled.
"Come on. Since when do you care about a VX?" Leonard asked.
"What if I put a bullet in Jemma's head?" Stiles said, putting his hand in Leonard's face.
On instinct, Leonard reached out and grabbed it, "Don't look at Jemma! Don't even think about Jemma! Maybe you should've told that damn thing to shut up. My partner may not have his processing power or whatever the hell it was but she's saved more lives in the last month than that thing has since it was activated, including yours."
"Hey, nobody is shooting police officers," Pike said.
"I didn't shoot a police officer. I'm a police officer. You're a police officer. As much as it pains me, Stiles is a police officer. Jemma. Jemma is a police officer. Now, you can dress these damn VXs up to look like cops. You can program 'em to drive a car and shoot a gun like a cop. But they're not cops. They don't think or investigate or have an intuition. They're bullet catchers. And if you force me to work with a faulty machine, then I will dispose of it with the same degree of compassion that I would a toaster that burns my toast."
"What the hell am I gonna do with you, Leonard?" Pike chuckled.
"I could give you a list of things I'd do with him," Stiles said.
"John. I do know what I'm doing," Chris said. "Go grab another VX."
"Wow," Stiles shook his head. "You better watch your ass. Your partner better watch her ass, too."
"Out," Pike ordered. Stiles glared at Leonard again before he left the room. "We've got a problem here, Leonard."
"Yeah, I agree. I mean, what do you think he wants to do to my ass?" the detective asked. He was trying to inject some humor into the situation. Leonard knew that what he did was against policy but it was morally right. You defend your partner. If Phil was still around, he's get a kick outta the whole thing.
"Hardy har har. You know, your anger issues and your short fuse are known way beyond this precinct. You were supposed to participate in therapy, not go and tell Dehner that everything is awesome."
"I didn't say that. I said I was doing good and I am. I am not, however, gonna stand there and let someone disrespect Jemma any more than I would let someone disrespect you."
"You know I'm gonna have to give you a write up for discharging your weapon."
"I know."
"Was it a good shot?"
"Right between the eyes."
"I swear, you're givin' me gray hair. Get back out there, I understand Jemma found the victim's girlfriend. See what you can find out. And don't shoot anymore VXs."
"No promises." Leonard left the office and found his partner waiting for him. "Whatcha got?"
"The victim's girlfriend is Kira Larsen. They've communicated one thousand and three times in the last twelve weeks. She works at Trope Software, same as the victim," Jemma told him.
"Let's go," he said and the pair walked out to the car. As they drove, Leonard could feel her eyes on him. "What?"
"Are we gonna talk about it?" she asked.
"What?"
"You shot a VX for insulting me."
"No. I shot the VX 'cause it wouldn't shut up."
"You do know that I can tell when you're lying, right?" Jemma asked just as his phone rang.
"What's up, Scotty?"
"Jemma was right. There is a power source in this bullet. There are definitely, uh, micro-electro-mechanical systems embedded in the bullets. Active aerodynamics, which can alter the course of the bullets in flight. I've never seen anything like it," Scotty said over the speakers.
"Do we have any idea who might've made it or where it was manufactured?" she asked.
"Not yet, but the MEMS circuits are highly specialized. Whoever fires this can control where this bullet goes. It could literally chase you around a corner. If the shooter wants you dead, the bullet will find you," the engineer told them.
"Thanks, Scotty," Leonard said.
"No problem, laddie. Just do me a favor and do not destroy any more VXs."
"Well, program them not to insult people and we'll be fine," Leonard told him.
"People… You mean Jemma?" Scotty asked. When Leonard answered in the affirmative, Scotty laughed. "Well, then. Nice shot. Don't do it again."
"You were saying?" Jemma asked as soon as Scotty cut the connection.
"I didn't say anything."
"Actions speak louder than words. And bullets… they talk a lot."
"Anton would never hurt anyone in his life. Who would want to hurt him?" Kira asked.
"Was he involved in any underground activities? Black market? Drugs? Did he owe any money?" Leonard asked. He and Jemma split up, he's talking to the girlfriend while his partner gets everything she can from the bosses.
"No. Nothing like that Anton was a gamer. The most trouble he got himself into was playing MMOs," she told him.
"We're trying to find out information about the weapon he was killed with. When was the last time you heard from him?" he asked.
"Uh, he left me a message," Kira told him as she accessed her voicemail.
"Hey, K. You must be asleep. Uh, of course you are. Anyway, um, forget looking for the bio-stamp on the, uh...on the three-eighteen liquifile. I found it. It's on my arm. Anyway, uh…" There was knocking. "I gotta go. Love you. See you tomorrow." That was the last message from Anton.
"He seems distracted," Leonard said.
"That's how he always is when he's working," Kira said, getting lost in her thoughts.
"Kira, I need you to think. Were there any new people in his life?"
"He doesn't know a lot of people outside of work," she said.
Leonard nodded, "Anything out of the ordinary?"
"He'd been meeting with a headhunter."
"Was he looking to change jobs?"
"No, when you have skills like Anton, you have options."
"Do you remember the name?" he asked.
"Um... he, uh... It was a woman. I think her name was Natalie. She worked for a recruitment company called Kinsey."
"I think I know how Anton Komack was killed," Jemma said as they walked out of the building. "Anton's software exploits an obscure bug in the location-tracking protocols used by nearly all sensors. Phones, cameras, retinal scanners, bio-stamps, even DNA readers, enabling them all to communicate in real time to precisely track virtually any person at any time."
"So Anton created the guidance system for the bullet?" he asked.
"That's what it looks like," she said as they got in the car. "Scotty's calling me."
"I have some information about where the bullet came from," the engineer said over the car's speakers. "According to Interpol, the MEMS circuit in the slug was a Russian Army design. A batch was stolen from a Ukrainian armory three months ago. And the theft was linked to a group called Terra Prime. A new weapon for the black market. Self-guided bullets that can track down and kill anyone."
"Anton sold his software to arms dealers," Leonard glanced at his partner.
"And they killed him with it."
Scotty sighed, "Aye, what a world."
"So, Anton sells his genius tracking software to gun runners," Stiles said.
"Who take it and use it to create a guidance system for a new kind of bullet that can track down anyone wherever they are," Uhura added.
"And once they get what they needed from Anton, they kill him with it," Leonard finished.
"How do we know they haven't mass-produced them already?" Stiles asked.
"We don't," Leonard sighed.
"Well, they just killed the man who designed the guidance system. They wouldn't have done that unless R & D was already done," Uhura pointed out. "We need to find these dealers and contain this."
"We've already notified the FBI and DHS," Jemma told them.
"I'll check Anton's financials. Maybe we can find out who he sold the software to, but I'm not optimistic. He was in tech, he'd know how to hide money," Uhura said.
"I'd be happy to help," Jemma said.
"Don't stress yourself, bot," Stiles said sarcastically before looking at Uhura. "There's an easier way. Your daddy's really good at hiding money, right? Why don't we just ask him how it's done?"
"Stand up when you say that," Uhura told him. "Oh, wait, you are." Leonard was gonna have to buy her a drink for that one.
"Yeah, well, my parents didn't have the money to make me taller. Or pretty," Stiles told her.
"Even if you were genetically enhanced, you would only be a taller jerk," Uhura replied.
"Anton's girlfriend said he'd been meeting a headhunter from a company called Kinsey. It was the only new thing in his life. All we have is her first name, Natalie." Leonard looked at his partner, "Can you check it out?"
"There's no Natalie currently employed by Kinsey," she told him.
"Maybe Kira got the name wrong," he said, mostly to himself.
"Or maybe she's lying," Jemma said. Of course she heard him. "Let's go ask her."
"Let's."
"Kira. We need to talk. We suspect Anton was selling your company's tech to people who killed him with it. The headhunter you mentioned, Natalie? We checked at Kinsey, she doesn't exist. You sure you got her name right?" Leonard asked. Kira was outside the office getting coffee.
"No, I'm not absolutely sure," Kira told him.
"How did you get her name?" Jemma asked.
"I bumped into them on the street near our office, a couple weeks ago. They were coming back from lunch. She had blonde hair, Slavic accent. Anton introduced her," Kira said.
"Could you identify her if you saw her?" he asked.
"I think so, yes."
"Bones…" Jemma said, she was looking past him.
"What?"
"Get down," his partner yelled, pushing him to the ground and shielding Kira with her body. Both women hit the ground half a second later.
"Kira, you okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Jem, talk to me."
"I'm okay," Jemma said as she pushed herself up. There was a single gunshot wound to her side. "I guess we know who our bad guys are after now."