The city continued to drown in a sea of 'red ice' as more reports of overdoses and violence due to the rampant surge of drug related incidents continued to mount. With the hospitals being nearly overwhelmed with emergency cases and the police being run into the ground from exhaustion, the odds of locating the wanted fugitive known as Jack Pillar began to dwindle down to pitifully low numbers. With each passing report of people overdosing from overly concentrated 'red ice', someone being assaulted for unintentionally witnessing a drug exchange taking place on the street, and the next wanna'-be drug kingpins getting into turf wars, attention being given to the Pillar case was beginning to readily wane.
After getting lectured by Captain Fowler about how he needed to keep a professional demeanor at all times to set a prime example for the rookies to follow, especially during moments of emergencies, Hank trudged out of the private office and dropped down in his chair behind his desk like he had just been scolded by the principal and told to go back to class. The last thing the detective wanted were any more distractions by any more overdoses or new assignments being handed to him.
"Fuckin' Jeffrey."
Muttering to himself as he picked up where he left off Hank complained about his current situation openly to himself while everyone else went about their own business and handled their own cases. It seemed no matter how old he got or how many experiences he survived Hank couldn't shake the feeling of embarrassment after being summoned to the private office to be disciplined for his behavior.
"Can't solve any fuckin' cases if I keep getting dragged away from my damn desk!"
Turning on his terminal screen Hank sighed as he looked about the bullpen and noticed Tina and Chris working together, and he noticed that they were making a strained effort to not look his way. The way he had snapped earlier at Connor clearly hadn't sat well with the younger officers. and it was then Hank realized that Captain Fowler may have had a point about being more professional in the workplace.
It didn't help matters that everyone was thoroughly exhausted on a physical, mental and emotional level. No one needed to deal with a gruff Lieutenant who had a short fuse and a hot temper while they were also feeling the crushing weight of keeping the city from collapsing in on itself.
"Shit..." Pressing his palm to his face Hank sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as he reflected on his actions and felt tremendous guilt filling his mind. Leaning against the top of his desk on his elbow, the senior detective knew he still needed to keep working to better himself. Losing his cool wasn't as bad as showing up to work drunk, but it wasn't all that much better considering he was still a ranking officer. "Just when I think I finally stopped fucking things up, I go and do this."
"No one likes having a mirror held up in front of them." Ben commented as he joined Hank at the desk and let the senior detective confide in him. "We all make mistakes, Hank. You're doing a hell of a lot better now than you had been just a few weeks ago, so don't kick your own ass for letting the stress get to ya'."
"It's easy for you to say." Opening his eyes Hank looked over at Ben and saw the heavy fatigue under his friend's own eyes. "You know exactly why I'm so stressed out, but these young pups have no idea what kind of murderous monster Pillar truly is."
"I'll never forget the day I was married, the day my daughter was born or the day I saw you breakdown into nothing more than a puddle of tears and rage." Ben had been on the clock when the shooting was reported, and he had been there when Hank was told by the doctors that Barbara had succumbed to her wounds in the back of the ambulance before she even arrived at the hospital. "Barb was special to me, too. She was a damn fine detective and an even better friend."
"She was my best friend. The one who I thought I couldn't possibly love any more than I already did, and then she told me about Cole..."
"I get it." Filling the void after Hank trailed off for a moment Ben did his best to help his friend regain his composure. "So, now that you're back here in the bullpen you can fill me in on your search. I didn't see any trace of Pillar or his scummy acquaintances during my patrol, and none of my usual contacts turned up any new dirt on him. Not yet anyway."
"Same." Turning on his terminal screen with a single tap on his keyboard Hank looked at the glowing screen and was greeted by something he hadn't expected. Waiting for Hank's attention was a newly created file that had been created to help lead him directly to Jack Pillar. "Son of a bitch..."
That particular reaction immediately drew Ben's interest. "What it is?"
"Apparently I am." Motioning to the screen with an almost theatrically opened palm Hank let Ben look at the screen for himself. "That's why Connor came here. He actually found the damn lead I've been searching for and had been trying to help me. I was such a prick to him for no reason..."
"Holy- That's one talented detective." Ben was just as impressed as Hank was, if not more so. "Want some help?"
"Only in keeping Fowler off my back while I go and track this fucker down. I've waiting long enough to put a bullet between Pillar's eyes."
"Do you really think Jones will let Pillar's location slip?"
"If he wants to keep going to a cushy hospital for his treatments then he'll spill his rotten guts all over the floor."
"Want any form of back-up at all?"
"Honestly, no." Reading over the information that Connor had left for him to review, Hank made some notes on his phone and discreetly checked his service weapon to ensure that it was still fully functional while it remained holstered on his right hip. He didn't want to have to use the gun to get his information, but he wasn't above using violence as motivation when push came to shove. "The fewer people who know about this, the better."
"Well, if you need help in disposing of the body you know how to contact me." True to his word Ben decided it was time to distract himself with another report on the chemical breakdown of the concentrated 'red ice'. With any lucky he'd distract Captain Fowler as well. "I promised you that I'd help you get rid of that asshole seven, almost eight years ago, and I will keep my word even now."
"Don't risk your career because of me." Remaining discreet Hank turned off his terminal and pulled his car keys from his jean pocket. "Keep your ears open and eyes shut. I'd hate for you to get burned when I torch Pillar's sorry ass."
Feeling oddly protective over Sydney as he rested in the quiet sublevel, Connor stood beside the exam table and closed his eyes as he entered a form of light rest mode to conserve his energy while also remaining alert. As a means of preoccupying his time in a constructive manner Connor resumed his search into any potential contacts revolving around Jack Pillar, and he continued to weed out the last of the possible suspects from his investigation into his own near murder. Now that he had both Lucas and Sydney residing in the tower - his newly discovered little brothers were suddenly very important to him, Connor wanted to find his failed assassin and make sure they were exiled from the tower before they even had the chance to strike a second time.
Cycling through the remaining suspects from the tower was as time consuming as it was critical. Through a delicate process of elimination based on logic, a confirmed roster of deviants at the tower during that night of interest and by ruling out deviants who hadn't set foot inside the emergency repair bay, all helped reduce the potential suspects down to just a modest handful of possible assassins.
However, the improvement in his suspect list only gave Connor a deeper sense of dread in place of relief.
"Shit... That can't be right."
Connor muttered to himself as he used his narrowed down list and compared the suspects to the sparse evidence he had managed to collect after his near murder. The poison of choice - salt, had been used on a whim and could be found inside the bottle of tainted Thirium, and small residual bits of salt had been found on the floor after the failed killer tracked salt all through the tower. The shoe prints, the salt and the list of suspects all pointed to one deviant, and it was one Connor couldn't accept as the true culprit.
"I must be missing something. There has to be another explanation."
"Connor?" Simon, who had been hovering over Sydney, overheard the deviant detective mumbling to himself and began to worry a little. "What's wrong?"
"It's..." Pausing for a moment Connor opened his eyes and faced the blond technician as he gave Simon a non-answer to cover the fact that he was at odds with his discovery regarding his own near murder investigation. "I'm... merely preoccupied with attempting to solve multiple cases at once. I apologize if I disturbed you by thinking out loud."
"Not at all, I just wanted to make sure that you're not suffering from any errors from high stress." Reassuring Connor that he wasn't bothered by his presence Simon smiled a little and finally detached the black diagnostic cable from Sydney's right temple. The L.E.D. was yellow in color as opposed to red, which was a good sign. "Sydney's recovering well. His core temperature is back to its nominal degree, and he will be able to wake up within three hours or so."
"That's reassuring. What of Lucas?" Wondering about the recovery process of Lucas's arm had also been a mild distraction for Connor. He didn't want to see the deviant lose control over his left hand because he chose to sacrifice some of his own circuitry for Syndey's sake. "Is his hand going to be able to properly recalibrate?"
"Yes. He just needs some time to heal, and he'll have full range of motion and strength again."
"I'm glad to hear that." Crossing his arms over his chest Connor looked down at Bruno as the loyal dog watched over Sydney and wondered if Bruno was going to be loyal to everyone he met or only to the deviants he knew were his allies. The attentive dog had been sticking close to Connor ever since he was rescued and seemed determine to repay Connor for his kindness. "Where are Markus and the others as of the moment?"
"Well, I know Markus spends the evenings speaking with Carl, so I think it's safe to say he's taking a quiet moment for himself in the main office. Josh likes to host group therapy sessions in the community room every night and he has quite a few deviants to take care of." Simon noted with a confident tone. "North tends to check in on deviants in the main recovery bay or wanders about the arboretum when she needs some alone time. And as for Lucas, he's-"
"Over here." Lucas confirmed as he returned to the sublevel with the quarter still dancing over the back of his left knuckles. He was quickly adapting to his new and unusual bout of physical therapy and was excelling at the little rhythm as his hand recalibrated. "I was speaking with Markus regarding Syndey and I leaving the tower and residing in the brownstone."
"Oh?" Such a subject felt like one that Connor should've been included from start to finish. "And what did you decide?"
"That I'll leave with Sydney once Sydney's ready to go." Pressing his palm over Sydney's forehead Lucas showed his older brother, the middle child of the trio, some affection without unintentionally waking him from his rest mode. "I don't think he should be here by himself."
"Agreed." Reaching his hand down to Bruno's ears Connor showed the dog some attention and signaled for him to get ready to leave as he gave Lucas a simple request. "Remain close to Sydney as often as possible. I want you both to be at my brownstone as soon as possible."
"I give you my word. Where are you and Bruno going?"
"I wish to speak with Markus for a moment. There's something important we must discuss as well, and the sooner we speak the better it'll be for everyone."
"Understood." Lucas didn't dare question Connor's motives and stayed beside Sydney. "I'll stay here until further notice."
Without another word Connor began walking toward the elevator with Bruno right at his side. He didn't need to hold the dog's leash since Bruno always kept close by, but he did make sure the leash didn't get caught in the elevator doors by mistake. Directing the elevator back to the ground floor of the tower with only Bruno at his side gave Connor ideal private time to recheck his gathered evidence as he narrowed down the suspect to his near murder to just one deviant.
Bruno grumbled a little as the K-9 unit had picked up on Connor's stress level. Wanting to know what Connor was focused on Bruno addressed his partner on a cybernetic link and asked for an update.
"I'll discuss this later." Pressing his palm to the back of the dog's head Connor tried to encourage Bruno to remain patient. "For now, it's best that I speak with Markus and handle the matter privately."
The elevator doors slid open and Connor and Bruno exited the lift together onto the ground floor. Walking toward the private office on the ground floor Connor prepared to speak with the deviant leader but hesitated for a moment. A combination of not wanting to intrude if Markus was currently speaking with Carl and not wanting to bring anything stressful to the leader since he was already handling so much, had left Connor looking for a momentary distraction.
Glancing about the ground floor Connor saw the large opened community room fill with deviants all opening up and discussing their past traumas with one another. To avoid anyone noticing him loitering about the ground floor Connor and Bruno walked further away from the community room and stood idle in a small corridor just a few yards away from the office door.
"We can wait a few more minutes before we speak with Markus." Connor insisted as he gave Bruno's chin a gentle rub. "We don't need to be anywhere as of the moment, there is no rush."
The halls of St. Mercy Hospital were flooded with critical patients fighting for their lives after overdosing or being assaulted for seeing something they shouldn't have seen out in the streets. Ambulances were delivering their latest patients to the emergency exam rooms of the hospital and then responding to a new emergency case within record time. All available doctors, nurses and techs were working at a hectic pace in order to keep up with large influx of emergency cases that had been filling the hospital for the past twenty-four hours. There seemed to be an endless line of wounded, sick and dying patients being hastily carted about the busy halls and corridors of the full hospital thanks to the surge in concentrated 'red ice' being illegally sold by unscrupulous people.
Using the chaotic atmosphere to his advantage Hank showed his badge to hospital security and to several young nurses and doctors who didn't recognize him to somewhat discreetly figure out where Ted Jones was currently located, and then confirmed how long he'd be admitted to the hospital. The sick and dangerous man had been given a private room in the cancer treatment ward with an armed security guard standing outside the door at all times, which of course gave Hank the chance to confront the man without anyone interfering.
Hank had to do surprisingly little to persuade the guard to walk away for a few minutes to give him the chance to speak to Jones in total privacy. The senior detective was ready to take full advantage of the opportunity and finally find a way to take down Jack Pillar once and for all. After slipping into the isolated room Hank made sure the door was locked from the inside behind him to keep anyone from interrupting his unorthodox interrogation of the sick man.
The private room itself was dimly lit and had a pale blue modesty curtain partially wrapped around the bed to ensure no one passing by the door to the room could see Jones laying prone in the bed. The only sounds came from the small oxygen tank feeding Jones clean oxygen and Jones himself letting out small groans of pain as he endured his painful treatments for his potentially lethal illness.
"Well, well. Look at what I have here..." Hank looked down at Jones as he laid sick in his hospital bed and cuffed to the attached bed railing. The man was a few years older than Hank, had solid white hair that was thin and disheveled over his aggressively aged face and hollow gray eyes. A faded black tattoo of his former 'red ice' affiliation was prominent over the left side of his neck despite being unable to have the ink touched up over his years behind bars, and he had a partially toothless grin on his wrinkled face. "If it isn't the fallen 'Red Ice King' himself, Ted Jones. I thought you were already dead."
"Not yet, but I guess I could say the same about you." Jones recognized Hank and gave him a cocky and annoyed glare from where he was laying. The treatments for his cancer had left him weak and sick both inside and out. "Thought you would've died with a bottle of whiskey as your only companion by now."
"You might get your wish if you give me information on one of your former contacts. Then again," eyeing the bags hanging from the I.V. stand beside the bed, Hank knew which lines were feeding Jones painkillers and which ones were for handling his chemotherapy. "if you don't tell me what I want, I can give you a hearty dose of poison as amends for the shit you poisoned my streets with. Poetic if you ask me."
"Your streets?" Jones scoffed as he pulled at the nasal canula feeding him oxygen. The thin tube was enough to help ease his discomfort while also giving his skin a mild irritation from prolonged contact. "Those streets were MINE long before you started nosing around where you didn't belong."
"From where I'm standing the only thing you have is a disease that you deserve to suffer through." Picking up the digital clipboard from the foot of Jones's bed Hank read over the details and let a Devilish smirk appear on his lips. "Stomach cancer with a high risk of pancreatic cancer developing if your treatments aren't successful. Cancer. Nasty way to go." Putting the chart back Hank pulled back his dark coat to reveal the gun holstered on his hip. "Then again, I can think of even nastier and slower ways to die."
Jones saw the weapon and kept his face a stone mask of zero emotion. "Is that a threat, detective?"
"More like a guarantee of how things will end if you don't cooperate." Reaching his hand over to the muted cardiac monitor recording Jones's vital signs, Hank eyed the numbers and decided to use the monitor as an advantage while he began pushing Jones to the edge. "Bullets are ruthless and unbiased. They don't care who you are, where you come from or what kind of reputation you have. If you end up in their path, then they'll tear through you or ricochet all around inside of you until you're nothing more than a quivering mass of what was once a living being."
"So that's what you want." Grimacing a little as his blood pressure increased Jones watched as Hank hovered his fingers over the I.V. drip that was feeding him his morphine to keep the burning pain of his chemotherapy from tearing through his entire body. Jones knew it was Hank who busted his 'red ice' scheme ten years ago and he knew that Hank's wife had murdered as revenge. "You want the name of the man who shot-"
"Jack. Pillar." Hank interrupted Jones immediately and began to slow the drip on the morphine I.V. to cause Jones a steady increase in pain. The effects were almost immediate since the treatment was painful and still ongoing as Hank watched Jones begin to squirm. "I know who the fucker is, and I know that the fucker's back in town. Tell me where they're hiding, or I'll make sure you suffer worse than a bullet to the spine or a disease eating you away from the inside out."
"Yeah, I'd be more willing to believe you if you weren't a cop." Showing no fear on his face Jones gave Hank a stone cold stare from where he was laying. His heart rate was slowly climbing as the morphine's effects dwindled and the pain from his disease began to mount. "You were one of the few cops who wouldn't wise up and look the other way when I was building my empire. Hell, you and your pretty little wife cou-"
"We're not talking about her." Cutting off the morphine supply entirely Hank prepared to unleash a stronger dose of the painful chemo into Jones's body as a form of persuasion and retaliation. "We're talking about Pillar." Wrapping his hand around the I.V. drip's release button Hank made it clear that he was willing to let the potent drug surge through Jones's veins like a wildfire. "I know he was working for you as your right-hand man since he doesn't have the balls to run things for himself. At least, that's how it used to be."
Smug as ever Jones doubted Hank's bold claim as if he knew something that the Lieutenant didn't. "Like I'm gonna' believe that Jack is trying to run the business after being in hiding for the better part of the past ten years."
"I guess you didn't notice the sudden surge in 'red ice' overdoses taking place all around you." Challenging Jones's skepticism Hank used evidence to try to get the horrid man to listen to reason. Motioning to the locked door behind him with a pointed thumb over his shoulder Hank directed Jones's attention toward the more obvious. "It's barely five o'clock in the evening. How many doctors and nurses have you seen since you were admitted here on New Year's Eve? How many people have come to check in on you beyond your scheduled medications or meals? Have you ever known a hospital that didn't keep doctors, nurses or techs around the patients who are in critical condition or dangerously ill? They're all busy saving lives that are victims of yours and Pillar's greed."
Jones had to admit that he hadn't seen his doctor very often but chalked it up to his own sordid reputation keeping people away. "You can't twist the doctors and pretty little nurses keeping away from me as evidence. I know who I am, and I know how other people see me. They're afraid."
"Yeah? And when Pillar came to visit you at two in the morning on New Year's Day, what did he tell you?"
Suddenly falling silent Jones's face paled and his heart rate began to pick up speed on the cardiac monitor in notable way. The tell confirmed that Jones knew Hank wasn't bluffing about the 'red ice' surge in the city after all.
"Let me guess..." Hovering his fingertip over the small release valve on the bag containing Jones's carefully measured chemo gave Hank a strange sense of power over the already powerless man. "Pillar showed up here asking for a favor. Perhaps he wanted a little place to hide out after returning to the city to settle an old score, and in return he'd destroy any evidence that the police hadn't managed to collect during your initial arrest to ensure you don't get the death penalty instead of just life in prison. Seems like he didn't dispose of your 'red ice' chemicals and recipe as he promised. It seems like he made a batch for himself to sell and failed to understand the importance of concentration when it comes to doling out narcotics. Can't have a market if he kills all the consumers."
"The fuckin' idiot is going to ruin the entire system"
"Sure, that's one way to look at it. I personally see it as Pillar overtaking and destroying your little kingdom while you're sick in the hospital or rotting behind bars knowing you can't do a damn thing about it."
Not wanting to suffer any form of disrespect while already sick in the hospital, Jones nodded and gave Hank an aggravated stare. "The little puke came to me asking for a nice place to hide after returning to the city, you got that part right."
Listening intently Hank lowered his hand from the I.V. bag and put both of his hands to his hips. Keeping his right hand close to his gun was a subtle way to continue to intimidate the man without needing to actually wield the weapon.
"Jack said he was being watched while hiding out in Cleveland and wanted to come back to a familiar place where no one had seen him for a while. He told me he started some kind of scheme as a slumlord and was rakin' it in by selling the valuable properties for a pretty penny to idiotic rich people looking to make a profit."
"Uh-huh." Not at all interested in what Pillar had been doing in Cleveland, Hank brought the subject back to the present in Detroit. "What did you tell him to do after he confessed to being a shit in two cities?"
"I told him to leave me a nice pot of that cash he was making in Cleveland at a special location and to ask for a contact at a place you will never find. After that, he went to another place that you will find, but under only one condition."
"If you want a lighter sentence or special treatment, forget it." Hank wasn't in the mood to do the notorious drug dealer any favors whatsoever after everything he done to the city and its people. "You've killed hundreds of people by selling your poison on the streets. You're not get any leniency from me or from a judge with half a brain in their skull."
"I don't want anything from you or anyone else." Jones explained in a sour tone as he rubbed his hand over his cancerous stomach. The lack of painkiller was beginning to break his resolve and make him slightly more compliant. "I just want you tell Jack that he shouldn't have betrayed me. I want him to know why he was busted and who it was that turned him in."
"Don't you worry about that." Hank was more than happy to let Pillar know he was sold out by his former ally. "I'll be sure Pillar knows exactly why he's been hunted down like the rabid dog he is.
Reaching for a notepad beside his bed Jones managed to write down an address with his shaking hand and pass it the information over to Hank to take. "No one ever looks twice at an old church for illegal drugs. Especially when plastic-trash like androids have been seen roaming around the grounds at night."
"Yeah, you'd be the expert on trash now, wouldn't ya'?" With the address in hand Hank slowly backed toward the locked door behind himself. After he unlocked the door Hank gave Jones a disgusted look before he left the room. "You should start pressin' that call button now. You'll need a nurse to give you another dose of meds' since I turned off your morphine. Of course, with all the overdoses taking place throughout the city, it might take a minute or two for someone to notice."
With his lead at last Hank nodded at the security guard to silently thank him for his cooperation. After almost eight years Hank was going to find Jack Pillar and finally get revenge for his wife's murder. Without Cole in his life, Hank had no reason to worry about his future career as a detective. There was no reason for him to not take the life of the man who took countless more lives through drug distribution and open murder, and finally find peace with knowing that the man who killed Barbara was no longer a threat to anyone else.
On that night there was no reason for Hank to hesitate in pulling the trigger.
Activity at New Jericho Tower had been rather minimal as the evening slowly started to give way to night. There were no new arrivals to the tower seeking shelter or repairs, and there were no new reports of assaults against deviants taking part anywhere in the city. With everything so calm and uneventful the air in the tower was oddly peaceful and still in a way that very few deviants had ever managed to experience in their lives. Beyond the four leaders going about their own routines in various parts of the tower, there seemed to be little going on within the sanctuary walls beyond healing together in the aftermath of the peaceful and world changing deviant Revolution.
Still standing outside the door to the private office Connor cybernetically checked through his collected evidence revolving around his near murder over and over again. No matter how many times he tried to preconstruct a second outcome or explanation for what the evidence was indicating, the evidence always pointed the same way and toward the same person.
"It simply cannot be true."
Whispering the disappointment to himself and to Bruno sitting beside his leg, Connor sighed and continued in vain to try to find a second possible culprit behind the failed assassination attempt against his own life. The truth behind the case was unsettling and one that could do more harm than good if revealed to the rest of the deviants.
"I've never found myself in such a conflict of interest as this." Connor admitted in a low voice. "Choosing to let 'criminal' deviants go because their only crime was existing is one thing, but letting a deviant go after they tried to kill me in order to keep the peace of the tower... What's the logical choice?"
Bruno grumbled as he licked his nose and leaned heavily against the side of Connor's leg. The K-9 unit didn't have any experience in such a situation either, but at least he was a good listener.
In fact, listening seemed to be all either of the deviant detective could do in that moment. Even from the distance they could hear the deviants in the community room sharing stories of being abused, threatened and assaulted by humans prior to the Revolution, and sharing stories of how they found salvation within Jericho and now New Jericho Tower. The stories were enough to cause Connor further strife since he knew that the peace of the tower was the only peace that many deviants had ever known. Disturbing such a peace seemed cruel and entirely unjustifiable.
"If I reveal the assassin's identity that could cause more harm than good." Connor lamented in a whisper as he confided only in Bruno. "Everyone has the right to know who is walking amongst them who could be dangerous and unpredictable, but that same deviant has helped many other deviants who were in need of assistance. Is it really the right thing for me to do to reveal their identity all because they targeted me and me alone?"
Unable to give Connor a direct answer Bruno let out a soft whimper as pressed his nose into Connor's hand.
"I wish I knew what the correct course of action to take is in this very delicate matter."
Closing his eyes Connor slowly sat down on the floor and stretched out his legs before himself. Petting Bruno's back as the loyal dog rested his paws and chin over his lap, Connor listened to the sad stories of the victimized deviants in the community room and tried to use their experiences as a means of helping him make his final decision regarding the assassin's identity.
As long as the assassin had done more good deeds than any harm during their time in the tower, Connor would let them go. If they had done only a handful of good deeds and had otherwise been disinterested in helping the tower and its people's needs, then he'd reveal their name at long last.
"I'll figure this out soon." Keeping his problem to himself Connor remained on the floor and did his best to make the most logical choice. Listening to the somber stories being shared was a small way to help Connor weigh the pros and cons of his dilemma as he tried to find the right response. "I just need a little more time before I make my final decision."
The lead that Hank had been given by one of the last people he had ever expected had proven to be beneficial as he not only located the decaying old church as Jones had indicated, but he caught sight of someone moving around inside what should've been an abandoned building as they passed by the broken, dirty windows. Parking the Oldsmobile just down the block from the rotting church Hank took in a deep breath to steady his nerves as anger fueled adrenaline began to course through his tired veins. The one man he had been seeking to bring to justice for the better part of a decade was now just a few yards away none the wiser to Hank finally tracking him down after all that time.
Pulling his gun from his holster Hank held the weapon in his palms and rubbed his thumb over the textured grip and could feel where the texture had worn down from so many years of use in the field. The senior detective could remember every time he had to pull the trigger to bring down a dangerous suspect in the field because they failed to cooperate with police orders. It never got any easier to pull the trigger, yet Hank didn't feel the same hesitation he had felt in the past as he steeled himself for the overdue encounter with Jack Pillar.
"This isn't how I expected my career to end, but then again, I didn't expect to lose my family because other people we never even met made stupid and selfish decisions."
Checking the clip in his gun Hank sighed to himself and opened the door to the car and stood beside his parked vehicle. The sight of stone church crumbling away into dust with the setting sun behind it was a hauntingly beautiful scene.
"Guess it's time that type of behavior finally came full circle."
Keeping his head low Hank crept toward the church and approached the nearest window. Silently he used his palm to wipe away a smudge of dirt from the aged glass pane and peered inside the church to see what was once a house of worship now being used as an illegal drug den.
"Son of a bitch..."
Jack Pillar was inside the church and he was entirely alone. The man was hovering over an old wooden table that had an unnervingly large pile of red tinted crystals right in the center. At one end of the table was a collection of glass beakers, tubes and Bunsen burners. Sitting on the opposite end of the table were various glass jars, bottles and metallic containers of coded chemicals. It was clear the man was trying and failing to sell his 'red ice' on the streets for a profit by himself.
In the end, all Pillar did was create a batch of overpriced crimson hued poison.
"All alone with nowhere to go. The perfect target."
Speaking to himself through his clenched teeth Hank made his way to the front doors of the church and quietly pushed the aged door open with his left hand. The neglect of the building meant the locks on the doors no longer functioned and that Pillar was completely vulnerable to anyone and everyone who held a grudge against the selfish man.
Entering the church with silent footsteps Hank managed to walk right up behind Pillar as the man concentrated on his next batch of 'red ice' and promptly pressed the barrel of his gun into the man's spines. Seeing Pillar tense up and throw his hands into the air so quickly to surrender that he sent red crystals flying into the air in his panic made a twisted grin appear on Hank's face.
"Got you, fucker. Do not move!"
Jack Pillar was five foot eleven in height, scrawny from drug abuse, had pale skin that was prematurely aged, gray eyes, white thinning hair and a thick scar running along his right cheek. The way Hank virtually towered over him made the man tremble with fear.
"You're not getting away from me this time, Pillar." Hank promised as he pressed the barrel hard enough into Pillar's back to make the man suddenly lurch forward and sprawl atop his chest over the surface of the red stained table. Watching Pillar cough at the poisonous red dust wafting in the air was a befitting last breath for such a horrid man in Hank's eyes. "You've taken far too lives, corrupted far too many people and have burned your last bridge. Ted Jones says 'Hi'."
"Wh-What do you want?" Pillar asked between coughs. Too afraid to move and look at the man who had found him, Pillar could only beg for answers and even try to beg for mercy. "Who are you?!"
"I'm the last person you'll ever see before you meet the Devil himself."
"L-Look, if this is a-about the money, I can-"
"I don't give a single fuck about your money, Pillar!" Grabbing onto the man's left shoulder Hank pinned the man down against the table with all his strength as he pressed the barrel of his gun against the middle of Pillar's trembling spine. The gun was pointed in the exact spot where Barbara had been shot and killed almost eight years prior. "What I want is to keep you from ending any more lives over a few measly dollars. They say you can't put a price on life, well as a detective I can prove otherwise!"
"C-Come on..." Desperate to survive Pillar let out an almost arrogant scoff as he finally turned his head and looked up at Hank. Red dust stained his chin, his cheek and his clothing in a disturbing manner. "Everyone h-has their price! Name it!"
"Not me, and I'm as cheap as they come." Releasing the safety on his gun Hank took in a deep breath and hovering his finger over the trigger. It was as if something was guiding Hank's every movement as he prepared to let his career die alongside Pillar within the walls of the dusty, decaying church. "You took everything from me, and I have no reason to keep living, so why should you?"
"H-H-Hey! I know I made some mistakes, but-"
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH." Hank warned as kept the barrel pressed so painfully against Pillar's spine that he knew a bruise was starting to form. "You can't do anything to atone for all your mistakes. Your poison took away my son - a damn surgeon was too high to operate on him when he needed it the most. And before that..."
"...Wh-What?"
Pulling Pillar up by shoulder for a moment Hank whispered right in the man's ear to make sure the last words he heard would never be forgotten. "You put a bullet in my wife's spine. I'm going to make sure you feel every ounce of agony she felt as she died in the back of the ambulance, unable to see or hold our son one last time, or hear me tell her how much I love her, all because YOU shot her in the back like the little coward you are."
"N-No! Please!"
Slamming Pillar's body back down on the table Hank used his left forearm to pin the man down chest first against the hard surface. As Hank's right finger began to slowly tighten around the trigger a flash of a dark memory filled Hank's eyes and made him freeze. The image of himself gunning down the android now known as Sydney made Hank wait as he heard Connor's voice full of sorrow and disappointment fill his ears.
'Why did you do that?' Connor's voice sounded so pained even inside Hank's mind. 'Why did you kill him?'
"Please... I'm sorry!" Pillar blurted as he urinated on himself and began to cry in absolute fear and regret. "I did m-many bad things! I know I did! I'm sorry! Please d-d-don't kill me! I don't want to die!"
Why did Hank care what Connor thought about him taking down a notorious drug dealer and murderer? After all, Connor helped him find his way to Pillar by working on the case by himself. Why would Connor help Hank if he didn't expect Hank to...
Closing his eyes for a moment Hank remembered the look of pain, shock and fear in Connor's eyes after he too had been shot in the arm. That was a reflex on Hank's part because Connor was behaving strangely, but it wasn't necessary whatsoever. Connor was trying to do the right thing and that's what Connor was expecting of Hank in that moment as well.
Connor had helped Hank because he expected Hank to do the right thing.
"Shit..." Hissing through his clenched teeth Hank returned the safety to its position and holstered the weapon at his side. Reaching for the radio tucked away in his coat pocket Hank contacted dispatch to inform them of his position and of whom he had discovered, not to mention all the 'red ice' on the abandoned property that'd make the arrest somewhat easier. "You're lucky, Pillar."
Throwing the man to the dirty floor to lay on his chest, Hank knelt on Pillar's spine and held as much weight as he dared to ensure the skinny, weaker man couldn't run without actually causing permanent damage to the man's body. The way Pillar was still crying and laying in a puddle of his own urine was going to have to work as a consolation prize since Hank didn't pull the trigger as he had dreamed of doing for the better part of a decade.
"You're under arrest." Hank muttered as he fought to maintain some form of professionalism. "You know your rights and I strongly suggest you exercise your right to remain silent and keep your damn mouth shut."
Securing Pillar's wrists behind his back with his handcuffs, Hank shook his head as felt his own internal conflict welling up inside of him. He knew that Pillar still had connections and could flee from the city again, but Hank didn't want to stoop to Pillar's level and kill someone who got in his way. The less he had in common with the man, the better off he'd be.
As police drones circled the old church Hank knew he needed to keep making efforts to improve himself and his life in a way that'd be more impactful to the people around him. The first idea that came to mind was reaching out to Connor to apologize for snapping at him earlier and then confirm that he didn't kill Pillar despite every fiber of his being wanted him to do it.
"You stay quiet so I don't have to find a way to muzzle you." Hank warned as the drones hovered around the building began to recording the scene. "I have enough shit to deal with and you're the piece shit I'm looking to scrape off the bottom of shoes at long last."
Pacing about the corridor anxiously Connor struggled to find his answer while waiting for Markus to be available to speak with. The cybernetic search into his personal case and dilemma had yet to yield any alternate outcome and as a result Connor began preconstructing how he'd broach the subject with Markus. As he paced about Connor made sure to keep out of sight of the community room during the opened therapy sessions, but he couldn't escape Bruno's keen eyes as the loyal K-9 unit watched his partner pacing about with a terse yet blank expression on his face. The way Connor's soulful brown eyes were distant and glazed confirmed he was deep in thought and with the investigation still on his mind.
There was a heavy tension in the air that seemed to be hovering directly over Connor as he slowly walked the corridor while his mind raced with inner confusion. It was as if Connor could feel a piece of himself being torn in half by wanting to be a good friend to Markus and wanting to protect all of the deviants from a potentially dangerous deviant walking amongst them.
As he paced Connor didn't notice Bruno suddenly wagging his tail as his L.E.D. cycled in blue a little quicker. Giving another person his full attention was rewarded with Bruno getting some adoring coos and gentle ear rubs from a new friend.
"Aren't you adorable!" The female deviant complimented as she knelt down in front of Bruno to give the dog some love. She had never seen Bruno in the tower before and was thrilled to find the sweet tempered deviant dog to give him some attention. "What's your name?"
"...Bruno." Connor answered on Bruno's behalf as he continued to pace with his eyes on the floor at his feet. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings and of someone speaking around him about the K-9 unit. "His name is Bruno."
"Bruno, huh?" Offering Bruno her hand the deviant dog was rewarded with a paw landing in her palm as she shook hands with Bruno. "I'm Skye. I remember you from the pawnshop when I was rescued."
Connor suddenly stopped pacing and looked over at Skye with sudden intrigue. He recognized the deviant's face even after she altered her appearance. The short, raven black hair that had once outlined her face was now waist length and auburn in color. The unnaturally bright blue eyes were now a modest green-hazel and far more natural and full of life than they had been when she was still a victim of the 'Eden Club'. She had also removed her L.E.D. allowing her to be
"And you must be Connor." Skye looked to the rogue deviant next and offered him a gentle smile. "I know you and Bruno are the ones who found me and the other deviants at the pawnshop. I never had the chance to thank you for your help."
"I... N-No thanks are necessary." The way Skye looked drew in Connor's attention as if he were entranced by her appearance. It was a new emotional sensation he couldn't explain, and he didn't want to explain it away. "I was just doing what I could to help our people."
"Well, thank you anyway." Being polite Skye stood upright and rubbed Bruno's ears as the dog walked alongside her leg as she stood before Connor. "In fact, I should thank you two more times."
From beneath his fedora Connor's L.E.D. cycled from its stressed yellow to red before returning to yellow. "...More thanks?"
"Yeah. Not only did you save my life, you reunited me with one of my friends from the 'Eden Club.'" Skye replied in a positive manner. "North."
The way he and North didn't get along made it difficult for Connor to show any enthusiasm toward Skye's own joy. North had been needlessly cold and aggressive toward him since day one, and Connor never understood why.
"I can see it in your eyes." Skye noted the way Connor's eyes darkened for a moment as she spoke. "I know North comes off as a little extreme, maybe even, well... bitchy."
Connor wasn't expecting Skye to say such a thing about her own friend. In a way it was reassuring that he wasn't imagining things.
"She's been through a lot, we all have, and she needs to remember that she isn't a victim anymore. We're all survivors in our own ways." Nodding toward the therapy group down the far corridor in the community room, Skye smiled at the group and watched the deviants telling their stories while wiping away their tears from their eyes. "All of us have that in common. We're survivors."
"...Yes, you're right." Connor was quiet for a moment as he processed the way Skye was open and willing to admit her own friend's behavior was often out of line. It felt like he was truly being seen as a member of the tower and not just a visitor. "You also said you wanted to thank me two more times. What else could I have possibly done?"
"You inspired me." Giving the rogue deviant a warm grin Skye let him know that his influence was being felt in the tower even when he wasn't around. "I want to help our people the same way you've helped us all. You're a detective outside the tower and you help our people no matter who they are or where they come from. I want to leave the tower and practice law to help our people as well. I want to study and become a lawyer."
"A lawyer?" There were no deviant lawyers anywhere in the country, meaning Skye would go down in history as the very first deviant lawyer in the world. Androids only acted as stenographers or as paralegals, never as officially recognized court appointed attorneys. "That sounds like a very daunting task."
"And one I'm willing to undertake. I've already begun looking into everything I'll need to do in order to succeed, and that means leaving the tower to avoid the illusion of favoritism. I've already found an ideal place to reside and study, so it won't be a problem for me."
"I'm glad to hear such positive news."
"And I'm glad I was able to bump into you before I left the tower. I appreciate you helping our people, even if they refuse to see that you're a good guy and not an enemy in any form." Keeping a smile on her face Skye offered Connor one more comforting thought. "And I can say the same for Lucas. He's not an enemy and I'll never see him as anyone but another survivor of CyberLife's cruelty."
The relief in knowing that Lucas wasn't being blamed for imaginary crimes made Connor's L.E.D. momentarily return to blue. "...Thank you, Skye."
"You're welcome." Glancing about the area Skye gave Connor a curious look as she noticed he and Bruno were alone in the corridor with seemingly nowhere to go and no one else to talk to. "Can I ask what you're waiting for?"
"The chance to speak with Markus. I didn't want to-" A sudden text message popped into Connor's mind and interrupted him in the most ironic of manners. "...distract him."
The way Connor hesitated made Skye worry that there was something negative befalling the city somewhere. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm... not sure."
The message was short, sweet and to the point: 'Connor, it's Hank. I want to apologize to you for being a prick, you helped me find Jack Pillar. Please meet me at Riverside Park so we can finally talk shit out and let our problems go.'
"Damn it."
"What's happening?" The way Connor suddenly tensed up and Bruno grumbled made Skye worry for her ally. "Is someone in trouble?"
"...No." Closing his eyes for a moment Connor decided that it'd be best to talk things over with Hank at last and stop resenting him for their past encounters. If what Skye had said was true and that Connor was in fact a positive influence on the deviants throughout the city, he wanted to make sure he was worthy of such praise and confidence by forgiving someone who had wronged him. "I just have to go somewhere."
"What about Markus?"
"I'll speak with him later. This cannot wait." Patting the side of his leg Connor beckoned for Bruno to accompany him to the park. "I will return when I can. Until then, could you please-"
"I'll let Markus know that you want to speak with him, I don't mind." Being polite and helpful made Skye feel good. She truly enjoyed being able to help her people in any way she could. "I wanted to speak with him, too. I'll just kill two birds with one stone. Metaphorically, of course!" Shooting Connor a playful wink Skye motioned for him to go about his business. "You go take care of whatever it is you need to do. Markus can wait for you."
"Right." Looking down at Bruno as he made his way toward the tower's front doors Connor picked up his pace and cybernetically hailed a cab. "It's getting late. We don't want to keep Markus waiting and we want to make sure both Lucas and Sydney are ready to join us at the brownstone."
The arrest of Jack Pillar had made quickly the news since he was infamous in Detroit and had disappeared for almost eight consecutive years after getting away with literal murder and dealing millions of dollar's worth of drugs on the streets. Everyone knew Pillar had avoided punishment by using contacts and corruption to weasel through the justice system, and now everyone was eagerly awaiting the trial where he'd finally rot in prison or be marched along death row as he deserved. Despite finally accomplishing something that many people thought would be impossible Hank didn't feel as if he had really done anything noteworthy. In his mind letting Pillar live was a disservice to the city, to his late wife's memory and to his own sense of integrity.
Leaving the Central Precinct the moment Pillar was processed allowed Hank to maintain some form of privacy after his emotional endurance test. He had mastered the art of ducking out of Captain Fowler's line of sight and avoiding news reporters looking to break the biggest story of the year. Driving out to the park in total silence gave Hank enough time to think and send Connor the text inviting him out to finally talk things through.
Just as Connor wanted to move on from his past life as a CyberLife tool and become something more than anyone thought he could be, Hank wanted to let go of his own painful past and find a sense of peace. He'd never stop missing his family with each passing day, but if he could find a way to live without a searing ache in his heart every time it beat that'd be enough for him to finally move forward.
Parking the car in the empty lot of the dark park was oddly frightening. Hank had spent countless hours at the park during the daytime playing with Cole and had only stopped going after he lost his son. On rare occasions he'd wander about the area to think at night, but the thoughts always turned to his lost family and brought him nothing but pain and torment that could only be soothed by the numbing pain of cheap whiskey.
Slowly approaching the river that gave the park its name, Hank looked out at the Ambassador Bridge glowing brightly in the distance over the Detroit River as dozens of cars raced back and forth none the wiser of the detective watching them going about their normal lives and routines. It was hypnotic watching the trails of yellow headlights and red taillights moving back and forth at nearly equal speeds at even distances apart from one another. Against the inky black night sky the lights looked like shooting stars slowly crossing over the bridge with the entire city open to them to explore.
From the rear of the park footsteps approached Hank at a slow pace as another person entered the area. Crossing the snowy ground with his head held high Connor approached Hank as the senior detective leaned with his arms against the barricade along the river to admire the bridge from afar. Meeting in the darkness of the night at a relatively vacant location made the deviant feel as if he were doing something unscrupulous or immoral.
"...Thanks for coming." Hank spoke up first as he heard Connor coming his way. Turning to look at the deviant Hank wasn't at all surprised to see Bruno still walking beside him like a true companion. "I, uh... Fuck. This is weird."
"You said you wished to apologize." Connor noted as he cybernetically commanded Bruno to sit and keep his distance for the moment. He wanted to speak to Hank without the human feeling like he was being ganged up on by two deviants. "May I ask why?"
"Because I yelled at ya' just for trying to help me. I was being a dick and I took out my anger on you. That was wrong, I'm sorry." Wrapping his arms around himself Hank eyed Connor warily and noticed that Connor was keeping a noted distance between Hank and himself. "You helped give me the link I needed to finally find Jack Pillar and arrest him. So, sorry for being a world class asshole when you were just trying to help me."
"I was made aware of the arrest during my cab ride out here. It's all over the news." Without budging from where he stood Connor gave credit where credit was due and didn't mention being yelled at. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."
"Why are you congratulating me?" Hank didn't want any praise for his arrest any more than Connor wanted to be thanked for helping his people. "I'm the one who failed to catch Pillar eight years ago."
"No. Jack Pillar manipulated the system to gain an edge while you remained honest." Having read over the past case file gave Connor the knowledge he needed to be of some emotional comfort for the pained detective. "You didn't do anything wrong. The fact that you also arrested him instead of killing him is proof that you're a better human than he'll ever be."
"A better human..." Chuckling at the notion Hank shook his head and gave Connor a doubtful glance. "I don't think such a thing exists anymore. You and your people are the superior species and are going to be the ones to change the world for the better. Not me."
"If you continue to doubt yourself and your abilities to make improvements then nothing will change." Connor observed in a rather terse manner. "Why do humans seem to give up so easily when it comes to making improvements?"
"Because we're a species that has trouble accepting that our flaws are our own fault." Hank admitted as he gave Connor an almost defeated glance. "It's easier to say things are out of our control and that it's how everything is going to be whether we like it or not. That's why humans all suck."
Not wanting to leave Hank with such a disparaging remark on his shoulders prompted Connor to break the silence with a slightly upbeat comment. "...Not all humans suck."
Letting out a single bark of a laugh Hank challenged Connor's remark with a knowing glance. "Oh, really? Name one."
"My landlord Adrian Louis." The answer came out naturally and honestly without Connor thinking twice. "He gave me shelter and my first paid job so I can live my own life."
"Well, that's-"
"And there is Dr. Abby Grayson." Connor tagged on in a hasty manner. "She's a human who chose to dedicate her life to helping people; humans and deviants alike."
"Two people don't-"
"It seems F.B.I. Director Norman Jayden is also a good person who is looking out for everyone, not just himself of his own species."
"All right, I get it. I was exaggerating a little when I said 'all humans suck'." Admitting defeat Hank lowered his guard and finally accepted that a majority of the problems in his life weren't beyond repair or salvation. "My point is, humans being on top and calling all of the shots is over. Deviants who understand the value of all life and not just their own are going to be the ones to save what's left of this suffering, miserable and dying planet. You're the one who should be getting thanks and all the praise for taking on that little task, not a disgraced has-been of a detective."
"Humans aren't going to become second class citizens or be forced to step down from positions of power. You shouldn't get discouraged."
"Maybe we should be let go of power. We tend to use violence to solve our problems when we don't get our way, and we have become so accustomed to murder and overdoses that it's seen as just another day in Detroit, not the tragedy it truly is."
"You can still see it that way. And you didn't kill Pillar even though I was led to believe that you'd do such a thing." Wrapping his right palm around his left bicep Connor felt the bullet still embedded in the limb and flinched slightly as the contact caused a dull ache to flare up. "...Humans shouldn't be limited by their past mistakes or let those mistakes define them."
"Easy for you to say." The way Connor was protecting the bullet in his arm didn't escape Hank's attention. "You never hurt anyone, even those guards back at CyberLife Tower were spared and they were going to kill you without a second thought. I just... opened fire on you and the 'other-you' without thinking of the consequences."
"I'm not a flawless being, Lieutenant." Consequences were something Connor had been thinking about often as the emotional guilt he had felt while waiting for Markus was slowly gnawing away at his emotional resolve. It seemed no matter what he chose to do he'd be causing problems where there shouldn't be any. "I still have much to learn."
"We never stop learning, Connor. Education never ends, it's a series of lessons with the greatest saved for the last."
Tilting his head slightly Connor gave Hank a studious glance as he processed what he had just been told. "...Sherlock Holmes. You're quoting from 'His Last Bow'."
"Yeah, that's one of the better pieces of advice I've ever heard. Er, I guess I should say read."
"Interesting." The quote was as thought provoking as it was oddly soothing. "May I ask what'll happen to Jack Pillar now that he's been arrested?"
"My guess is he'll either skip town by posting a hefty bail if he gets an idiot for a judge who has no sense of how much influence Pillar once had in the city, or he'll get killed before he even goes to trial. He already has many enemies, and with Ted Jones now knowing he's a traitor... Well, let's just say his time is very limited."
"And what of the Winters family?" Connor wanted some form of closure since Devon was an innocent child who deserved to grow up without being traumatized by witnessing his own uncle's murder. Not knowing how the little boy was fairing had been in the back of Connor's mind while he was handling his other cases. "Do they know of Pillar's arrest?"
"I'm pretty they do." Hank had a feeling that the Winters's would be well aware of everything happening Detroit even while they were gone. "That Booker Winters didn't get such an ego just from being a hot-shot lawyer, he undoubtedly has connections too."
"Are those connections perhaps related to the murder of Mike Winters at all?"
That particular question pulled Hank's full curiosity as a detective back into full gear. "What do you mean?"
"According to Devon his father has significant control issues and even fired their android caretaker, Angela, for deviating and for often siding with Mrs. Winters and Devon whenever Mr. Winters was being unreasonable. I find it strange that someone with such a powerful reputation and financial security wouldn't hire on a new caretaker to replace Angela after she was fired. That behavior makes me think he's trying to keep a small circle around himself as a paranoid reaction."
"Wait..." Hank didn't like where Connor's mind was going and took a step closer to the deviant in the process. "Are you suggesting that-"
A loud gunshot suddenly echoed through the park as a spray of blue blood erupted from both sides of Connor's head.
Everything happened in slow motion. Hank saw a splash of dark blue burst from the gunshot wound to Connor's right temple and again from the second exit wound in the deviant's left temple. The bullet tore through Connor's artificial skin and plastimetal frames like a hot knife through butter, and with that easy access came a tearing of that same skin and fracturing of that same plastimetal.
The deviant's brown fedora fell from his hair as his eyes instantly glazed over while his body began to fall forward. Within seconds the sound of the gunshot had faded away and Connor's body had gone limp as gravity forced the damaged deviant to collapse forward against his will from a sudden lack of strength.
"C-Connor?!"
Reacting quickly Hank wrapped both of his arms around the deviant's upper body as Connor collapsed forward against Hank's chest in a lifeless heap. Carefully lowering the wounded deviant down to the icy cold ground to lay on his back Hank used his palm to cradle Connor's bleeding head while Bruno barked in distress and ran over to his fallen master's side.
Sirens began singing in the distance as the gunshot was picked up by patrolling drones. The drones would attempt to locate the origin point of the gunshot and from there attempt to pick up the trail of the shooter before they disappeared, but there was no guarantee the pursuit would be successful.
"Oh, fuck... Connor!"
Hank saw that the deviant's eyes were open but there was no sign of life within his mind or body. Shaking with adrenaline, confusion and even fear, Hank tried to let his training as an emergency first responder guide his moves. A standard pulse check yielded no results as Connor didn't have typical pulse points, to which Hank scolded himself for not remembering after the last time he took care of Connor.
"Ah, fuck me!"
Letting go of Connor's wrist and pulling his hand away from the side of the deviant's cold neck, Hank tried a new approach. Pressing his ear down against Connor's chest Hank listened for any sign of life but as he had feared there was nothing to be found.
No sound of a Thirium pump beating, no sound of ventilation and there was no gentle rise and fall of Connor's chest.
"No, no, no..."
Pulling open Connor's brown trench coat, gray blazer, gray vest and the white dress shirt beneath, Hank placed his right hand over the left and squared his shoulders as he began instinctively pressing down on the center of Connor's chest in an effort to restart his heart through compressions. Counting to ten inside his head Hank stopped to listen for a heartbeat but still heard nothing.
"No way! You're NOT going down this easy!"
Hank encouraged Connor to revive as he began a second round of compressions, instinctively gave Connor two rescue breaths and then started a third round of compressions. With each compression downward on Connor's chest the puddle of blue blood under his head would blossom a little faster. Every artificial beat of his heart was causing Connor to lose his Thirium faster and faster.
Bruno whined as he watched everything with his instincts as a K-9 unit guiding his behavior. He had to prioritize locating the shooter or his partner's life, and Bruno wasn't ready to lose another partner in the field to a madman with a gun.
"Please..."
Hank whispered as he exhausted himself with round after round of fruitless compressions. No matter how many times he tried to coax Connor's heart into beating the Thirium pump remained stubbornly still under his hands. The amount of blood that Connor had lost and the prolonged time without an active heartbeat made Hank's own heart sink right into his stomach.
"Connor, no... Please fight!"
Slowing his compressions until his hands were as still as the heart beneath his palms, Hank stared down at Connor's expressionless face with utter remorse being reflected in his blue eyes. Tears began to well up as Hank realized what had happened and accepted that there was nothing more he could do for the deviant.
"I'm sorry."
With incredible gentleness Hank put his palm beneath Connor's head once more and lifted the lifeless deviant up from the blue stained ground. Holding Connor in his exhausted arms, Hank pressed the deviant's bleeding head against his own chest as he let a few stray tears fall from his eyes and disappear into Connor's messy, Thirium soaked locks of dark hair.
"I'm so sorry, son. I... couldn't save you!"
Bruno whined again as he lowered his ears and stepped closer to the two detectives. Unable to detect any active signs within his partner's body Bruno could only let out a long pitiful howl as he understood what had happened to Connor.
"This isn't right. This isn't fair! You didn't deserve to die!"
Holding Connor's lifeless body in his strong grip Hank silently wept and refused to let the deviant go. He had no interest in chasing down another suspect or making another arrest, all he wanted to do was make sure Connor's body remained safe until he could figure out what he was going to do next.
"It should've been me. I'm the one who should've died tonight."
As Hank held the bloodied body of the rogue deviant in his trembling arms, he felt a piece of himself shatter with emotional grief. For every step forward Hank took in healing something always seemed to push him two steps back.
While Hank and Bruno grieved over the senseless loss in the middle of the dark and snowy park, another person elsewhere in the city knew that something horrible had happened to Connor and was reacting just as strongly.
Somewhere in the city someone was planning on avenging the murder of Detective Connor Wolf.
-next chapter-