"Targets"
It took at least three weeks for Connor to be reinstated to the Detroit Police Department in the weeks following his acquittal. Hank had already returned to work and Connor had started to wonder if the general boredom might just cause him to shut down. Not that he didn't love Sumo, but the Saint Bernard sadly lacked basic conversational skills other than "woof" which could mean many things.
When Connor was finally allowed to return to work following some extensive psychological examinations, he was barred from the field and chained to his desk for the next week and a half. Until HR could prove the android could handle carrying a firearm again, they weren't going to risk sending him into the field unarmed, despite Connor's protests that he had been unarmed during every investigation prior to the revolution. Apparently his safety mattered a bit more to the precinct as more android rights bills were being signed into law.
Although paperwork was one of his specialties, the next few days seemed to drag on until Fowler called Hank and Connor both into his office around noon.
"Ah shit," Hank grumbled as he stood from his desk, Connor trailing behind him. "What the fuck's that asshole want now?"
"If it's regarding the inappropriate behavior Officer Simmons reported on your case yesterday, then I'd hope the Captain knows I had nothing to do with the matter." Connor responded.
"You fucking kiss-ass." Hank muttered before speaking up a bit louder, "Also inappropriate behavior?" Hank hissed, "In my books, that is considered perfectly appropriate given the circumstances."
"You called the suspect a 'sad deranged little motherfucking son-of-a-bitch, then proceeded to slam him against a wall."
"Yeah?" Hank responded as if Connor's claims were baseless.
"In front of his mother."
"Your point?"
"Hank, the suspect was innocent." Connor sighed.
"Yeah but his mother wasn't." He retorted, "See? Appropriate, Connor. You know how it is to play the bad cop, sometimes you need to get creative."
"If that man files a report with the captain, you're going to be suspended again after you just got back to work. Hurling insults and curses is neither productive nor creative for an investigation that has not even developed into an interrogation yet."
"Then you, my friend, haven't learned to improve your vocabulary" Hank chuckled lightly to himself. Connor simply sighed as they entered Fowler's office, deciding that his concerns were falling on the ears of a 53 year old brick wall.
Hank took a seat in the chair across from Fowler while Connor stood beside him, hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"Jeffery." Hank grumbled, slumping in his chair with his arms crossed, already showing disinterest in whatever Fowler had to chew him out for. But the Captain didn't say anything regarding Hank's posture or disciplinary warnings. He had a serious and grave look on his face as he regarded the two detectives, his palms flat on the desk.
"Hank. Connor." Fowler stated, refusing to break eye contact. It was less of a greeting and more of a statement. Sensing the change of mood, Hank sat up slowly and unfolded his arms.
"Jeffery." Hank repeated, staring back at the captain. "What's going on?"
"When was the last time either of you saw Officer Simmons?" Connor watched as Hank paled and his gaze wavered ever so slightly. This line of questioning was never a good sign. Connor spoke up as a strained silence hung in the air.
"I saw Officer Simmons leave the precinct at 19:53 yesterday evening after returning from her investigation with the Lieutenant." Connor's eyes darted from Fowler to Hank, working to keep his voice steady. "She mentioned a report she had just made then said she was going home for the night."
"Yeah," Hank spoke up, his voice low. "I saw her after the investigation when we came back to the precinct around 7. I left before her to take care of Sumo since Connor was working late." Captain Fowler was writing down the details carefully as Hank spoke. "Jeffery." Hank stated again, his knuckles turning white as he grasped at his pants. "What happened?"
"I won't mention the details here." Fowler spoke, not looking up, "You can see them yourself at the scene in a few minutes." He paused from his writing, sitting back and pinching his brow, a heavy and pained sigh escaping his lips. "Simmon's body was found in an alleyway on 41st street this morning. I haven't seen it myself but I'm sure you can imagine the details yourself." Hank sat back himself, his face cold and haggard.
"Jeffery, this is the fifth one in two weeks. If you're saying the...disposal is the same then—"
"Then the members of our precinct are all possible targets for this bastard."
"And he's gone serial…" Hank muttered in shock and distress.
Over the past two weeks word had spread of law enforcement officers in various Detroit precincts had been supposedly kidnapped, tortured and murdered before being dumped in different alleyways in Detroit's streets. Always found with the same, gruesome signatures. The suspect had killed two officers in one precinct before moving on to the next and if Officer Simmons had been murdered by the same suspect, it meant the cop killer would take the life of at least one other person working in this building.
"Connor, I know you haven't been cleared for field work yet, but you can analyze the evidence at that scene better and faster than any cop here. It's on my ass if the reps catch wind of it but these are extreme circumstances, and we've got a limited window of time." Connor nodded, understanding the implications and the risk the Captain was taking.
"The feds will be on the case sooner or later. I want to avoid that as much as anyone but I won't hesitate to call them myself to avoid putting my own people in danger." He looked up again, glaring into Hank's eyes. "Hank, Connor, you're the best investigators we have right now and I didn't consider anyone else when this came to my desk." Fowler handed Connor the file, who began scanning through it immediately, preparing himself for their arrival to the crime scene. "Take care of this before any more of my men get hurt. Got it?"
"Yes sir." Hank responded, in a surprisingly respectful manner.
"Of course, Captain." Connor said, turning to the door as Hank stood to leave.
"And one more thing, boys." Fowler interrupted, narrowing his eyes. His voice was low but his resolve faltered a bit. "Stay with each other at all times until we catch this bastard. No splitting up, no taking separate cars." He turned to Hank, "No leaving early if Connor's staying late." He then looked to Connor, pointing his thumb in Hank's direction. "If he goes to take a shit, you'd better be three steps behind him. Understood?" It wasn't a question.
Connor tilted his head slightly, his face scrunching slightly with confusion. Hank simply put his palm to his forehead, muttering "Jesus.." under his breath.
"I don't expect this to be much of a problem for you two given your living arrangements. But this guy only gets officers who are alone. I'm not taking that chance with anyone here. If that means giving up 'alone time' for a few days then that's the price we're all gonna pay, alright?"
"Understood." Connor nodded.
"Yeah, I hear you.." Hank sighed slightly.
"Good. Now get the fuck out of here."
The drive to the crime scene was uncomfortably quiet, with Hank's sights set on the road and Connor lost deep in his own analyses. The android tapped his fingers against the passenger side door. His L.E.D. was steadily cycling yellow as he poured over Simmon's file, cybernetically accessing the other four files from the other precincts. He was already searching for reconstructive evidence by the time Hank parked the car.
They sat quietly for just a moment before Hank looked over to Connor.
"You ready for this, kid?" He asked. Connor noted the bit of sympathy in his tone. He stared back at the detective, giving a slow nod before exiting the car.
CSI was already crawling around the scene as the two detectives approached, the sound of camera shutters clicking heavy in the air. Detective Collins stood silently, leaning against the wall of the alleyway. He gave no acknowledgement to the two detectives other than a murmur that Connor couldn't make out.
Connor arrived at the body first, carefully pulling the white tarp from the young officer's body. The sight was gruesome but Connor kept his eyes on the naked corpse as he scanned the girl's face and ran his diagnostics.
NAME: LINDSEY ALANE SIMMONS
DOB: JUNE 16TH, 2015
AGE: 24
STATUS: DECEASED
EST TIME OF DEATH: 09/18 AT 03:17
Spotting a small bit of blood that was trailing from the officer's mouth, Connor ran two fingers across her chin, touching the blood to his tongue.
"Hey, hey! Jesus fucking Christ, Connor. I think I'm gonna be sick." Connor looked at Hank from the corner of his vision, rolling his eyes. Hank turned away from the android, his face twisted in obvious disgust. "I'm never gonna get used to that shit."
"Traces of trichloromethane in the blood and lungs." Connor read his analysis out loud. "Looks like some sort of chloroform was used to subdue her."
Connor stood from where he was kneeling, continuing to look over the girl's injuries.
"Skin has been flayed from the left side of her forehead, left arm, multiple spots on her torso, and both legs, as well as smaller, sporadic lacerations covering the rest of the body.." Connor began grimly, assessing the damage done to her body. "Her hair has been cut but no signs of any extra strands around her body. It was cut with something jagged like a knife, given pieces of her scalp are missing as well. Her wrists and ankles were bound," he went on, nodding towards the rope burned skin. "And the bones were shattered. She was stripped naked and…" Connor paused, staring at the gaping hole in her chest.
"Her heart was cut out." Hank spoke up, his voice wavering. "Matches up with the signatures from the other victims."
"All premortem…She died from the blood loss." The deviant continued, Hank's words falling on deaf ears. "She was still alive, Hank." Connor said breathlessly, feeling his own voice falter.
"Jesus Christ, Lin…" Hank muttered, running a hand through his hair. "She was only 24 years old."
"Estimated time of death was around 3 o'clock this morning." Connor stated. "That's only a six hour window between the time she was last seen and the time she was killed." Hank said nothing as Connor cross referenced the other cases. That's 6 hours faster than the last two victims…"
"When was the victim before her taken?" Hank questioned, unable to tear his eyes away from Officer Simmons.
"Two days ago"
"From two in a week, to three. He's escalating." Hank replied, "He's found whatever it is he was looking for in this ritual and now he's speeding up his timeline."
"No fingerprints." Connor noted, scanning over the body again. "It could be an organized human killer or an android."
"The skin was removed quickly and has varied in size with each victim. Signs point to a disorganized killer, no other forensic countermeasures." Hank sighed, kneeling over the body himself. "My guess is android." Connor stayed unmoving for a moment, processing the scene and the previous files.
"If the suspect is speeding up his timeline, do you think that means he's perfected his methods of torture?" Hank shook his head, standing up again and crossing his arms.
"Don't think so. If this was centered around the torture, he'd be keeping his victims longer, prolong it if he can control himself. But he's killing them quicker. This…" the older detective gestured to the body. "This is a message." Connor nodded in agreement. Killing police officers was already a sign of a mission oriented killer. Connor looked closely at the body again, noting another similarity to the other victims.
"Lieutenant, take a look at the areas that the suspect didn't touch." Hank took a few steps forward, scanning the body again for himself.
"Right forehead, right upper arm and…" Hank hesitated, realizing the connection. "Directly above her heart." He looked at Connor, a small smirk on his face, "Android insignias."
"He's representing crimes against androids and using the bodies of law enforcement to tell his story."
"Well shit Connor. That narrows it down…" Hank responded sarcastically , pinching his brow and rubbing his forehead. "Look at the revolution. Hell, look at the months before the revolution. Cops committing crimes against androids was practically the staple of that time. Fuck, just think about all the deviant cases we worked together. For all we know, you and I could be the targets he's really after." Connor shook his head, standing up.
"The hair cutting, flaying, and posing naked bodies aren't random. During the revolution, when all the nation's androids were sent to recycling centers, they were required to remove their skin, hair, and clothes."
"So this guy was in a camp. Probably rounded up by a Detroit officer."
"Or somebody he cared about was."
"Fucking shit...where the hell do we start..?"
"Narrowing down androids isn't going to be very effective, not with the timeline speeding up. Most of today's deviants have probably been in the camps." He gazed down at the corpse at his feet, his L.E.D. cycling between red and yellow. "We'll start with Officer Simmons, as well as the other victims. Search for another connection that could be this android's specially. A ruse, or distraction of some kind." Hank nodded.
"Alright. Let's head back to the precinct then. If he continues taking victims at this speed then we've got less than two days before he kills someone else." He scoffed slightly, "Maybe longer if Fowler's fucking 'bathroom buddy system' pans out.
"Got it.." Connor muttered, trailing off as the two of them made their way back to the car.
Six hours and at least seven interviews later, Connor and Hank arrived back at the precinct, Hank looking exhausted while Connor continued to cross reference the case files with the information from their witness statements. The building was strangely empty as Fowler had ordered the night shift staff to work from home until the threat had passed.
Connor made his way swiftly to his desk, accessing his terminal and pulling out the physical copies of the evidence they'd compiled. Hank trudged along begrudgingly, plopping down in his own chair across from where Connor was working. He stretched his arms out and leaned in his chair as far back as it would go without breaking the back of it.
"Six damn hours of running around Detroit like chicken's with their heads cut off," Hank began, grumbling, a hint of weariness in his voice. "And we don't have jack shit to show for it."
"I'm unsure what kind of ruse this suspect could be using." Connor muttered to himself, his L.E.D. cycling yellow as he processed the information. "The choice of law enforcement isn't random but it seems the victims are. Different ages, ranks, hair color, and he's taking both men and women."
"And no common factors surrounding them other than occupation."
"I can't find a single common thread between any of them from the nights they were taken. The first victim was picking up his car from the shop after work, the second was visiting a bar, and of the other two, one going to her night classes and the other had dropped his daughter off at a rehearsal." Connor sighed with frustration and threw his hands up slightly before leaning back in his chair as well.
"And Simmons was going home." Hank nodded, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed. "All we know is that the victims were abducted after their shifts. From what I can tell, it's random. He must be spotting cops who leave their precinct and blitz attacking them."
"I guess...but that isn't going to help us narrow anything down. The nearest Detroit precincts all have security cameras and police drones surrounding them, and most of them have doubled their security since this happened. And I've already checked the footage twice over. He must have attacked them somewhere away from the precinct, or the security drones would have flagged it. I just don't know where..."
When Connor looked up, he found Hank reading over Simmon's file again, chuckling slightly as something caught his attention.
"Detroit resident card, huh?" He commented, amused, "I swear, all these Gen Alpha kids don't give a damn about getting their driver's licenses anymore. Not with all those autonomous death traps they call cars nowadays." Hank set the file down, reminiscing and staring at the ceiling again. "Heh, I still remember when I got my license. My 16th birthday, 2001. That was a weird year. Our fashion sense was…" He swatted his hand, "All over the place back then."
"What are you talking about, Hank?" Connor muttered, half listening to the detective's story.
"Simmons," He answered, smirking slightly, knowing Connor didn't really care about his tangents. "She never got her driver's license. I guess it's commonplace now, but back in my day, we practically ran to the DMV the day we turned 16."
"She didn't have her license…" Connor thought to himself, "She must have taken an autonomous cab home. Maybe…" Connor pulled up the surveillance footage to chase this small lead. "Hank, did any of the other victims have driver's licenses?" Hank raised an eyebrow, but sat up and complied, accessing his own terminal.
"Yeah, the uhhh...first victim and the second."
"But the first victim's car was in the shop. He was going to pick it up after work. The second was going out to drink. It'd make sense he'd have a designated ride. Take a look at this." Connor turned the monitor to face his partner. The monitor showed 5 different surveillance feeds from the different nights, showing each of the victims, including Simmons, leaving their precincts in autonomous taxis.
"They all took cabs?" Hank asked, doubtful, "That's your lead?"
"The two victims who could drive themselves were taken on the one night they needed to use a cab." Connor tried to rationalize. "It's not much but it is a common thread. Hacking a taxi cab is by no means easy but it's doable for an android. And the GPS history is backed up to the cloud every three or four days. He'd have to destroy the cab if he wanted to cover his tracks."
"That could explain why he switches precincts so often. Stealing cabs that are assigned to specific areas may be more inconspicuous than getting at least two a week from the same hub. But Connor, you're now saying we need to find an android who is capable of hacking a taxi. Hell, that's like trying to find a cop that's seen an inebriated person before." He laughed bitterly, "You're more likely to find someone who doesn't fit that criteria."
"I know, but it's all we have right now." Connor protested, the frustration on his face showing clearly. "Please, Hank." He groaned, "I don't want to see what happened to Officer Simmons happen to anyone else here."
"Alright, alright." Hank gave in. "I'll update Fowler in the morning, let him know not to let anyone take a fucking taxi on their way home tomorrow." He scoffed.
"It could buy us some time if we interrupt the way he gets his victims." Connor half listened as he continued his research.
"You gonna be here all night, Connor? Because if so, I'm gonna go take a nap in the breakroom."
"Go ahead, Hank. I'm gonna try to see if any of the stolen cabs' GPS history can be retrieved electronically. I'll let you know if I find anything."
"Yeah alright," Hank stumbled off to the back of the precinct, yawning. "I'll see if the neighbors can check on Sumo so don't worry about him. Just…" He waved his hand, motioning to Connor's desk, "Do your thing."
"Understood."
Connor continued to search for more leads for at least an hour or so but to no avail. Every search and analysis he ran on the missing cabs came up negative. It seemed there wasn't any way to track this guy.
"Shit." Connor cursed quietly. Nothing on the victim's bodies gave anything substantial about this suspect's hiding place or where he was keeping his victims and everything they knew about him led to the conclusion that this was just another android.
"I'm running out of time…" he stated, counting down the hours till their suspect would go for another member of the precinct. "What can I do..?" He spoke softly to himself as if he were consulting with his partner. "I can't find anything that will lead me to him, and the only thing we know is-"
An idea came to the android's mind. A stupid, reckless idea, but it might work. At this point it had to work. He didn't have another option if he wanted to keep anyone else from being taken.
"How he gets his victims.." Connor finished slowly. A small smirk formed on his face as he played through this new situation.
"Maybe I don't need to find him. Not if I get something that can take me straight to him."
Connor stood from his desk and snuck quietly to the break room, checking to see if Hank was asleep yet. Surely enough, Hank had already passed out on the floor, his old leather jacket bundled up under him like a pillow. Connor couldn't help but smile warmly at his partner.
"You really can sleep anywhere, huh Hank?" He remarked as he grabbed the detective's cell phone from his jacket pocket. Making sure his alerts were turned up at the highest volume, and setting a single alarm to go off in an hour, he set Hank's phone back down next to his face.
"I don't know if you'll wake up to my texts, but my plan right now hinges on you waking up to an alarm for once in your life." Connor retorted, heading out of the break room and grabbing Hank's black fleece jacket he left on the chair and his own dark beanie that he left in his desk drawer. He quickly slipped off his grey jacket adorned with android insignias and changed into the other one. He pulled the hat over his hair, making sure his L.E.D. was hidden out of sight for the time being.
Pulling out his own cell, Connor made one quick call before stepping out to the curbs of the precinct.
"Hi, yes." He spoke carefully to the dispatcher. "I need a cab."