Chapter Text
The station got a phonecall. An elderly woman reported noises from a flat above hers that repeated over the course of five days.
,,Lieutenant Anderson, we have a case." Connor put the case file on Hank's desk. Hank frowned.
,,Distressed neighbour? What is that?" he wasn't very pleased with it. They didn't usually get these cases.
,,Mrs. Pierce reported unusually loud noises, like crashing furniture and shattering glass, coming from flat 265. She also stated that the flat is supposed to be vacant and is not being for sale." Connor explained the situation. ,,An armed robbery is the probable cause of the noises."
Hank nodded slightly.
,,Riiight." reluctantly, the lieutenant got up from his chair with his hand on the case file. ,,Let's go then."
On their way to the designated crime scene Connor was the only one talking, with Hank's occasional hum of approvement.
,,We're here." he announced and parked in front of the complex.
The elevator ride to the eighth floor was silent.
,,Oh." Hank almost cursed when they got to the flat - the door seemed to be kicked open as almost half of it was laying inside the room, bits and pieces of wood chips scattered all around the place.
Hank pulled his gun out of the holster and went inside very cautiously, with Connor at his back.
The room was dark and the lights weren't working. In the kitchen there were leftovers and crumpets of various food, hinting at possible squaters occupying the place. The only noises now heard were those of Hank and Connor's steps and...
Without a word the two crept to the nearest closed off room, from where they overheard a ragged cough and some hushed voices.
On three Connor opened the door and Hank sneaked inside, only to be hit hard in the head. He stumbled backwards, outside of the room, then blacked out.
Connor, a little shocked, quickly checked his partner's vitals and went to investigate himself.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold he was attacked as well, by a metal rod, but he managed to catch it. The attacker didn't waste a second, dropped their weapon of choice and engaged in a hand-to-hand combat. Connor, if he would say, had plenty to do, as the assaulter was swift, strong and precise and everything hinted at the possibility that he's fighting an android.
A second of scanning cost Connor precious second of defense, which the attacker took in their advantage and through a series of movements got him on the ground below themselves.
Connor could feel certain weight being pushed onto his chest, where he was defending himself with a hand, when suddenly there was a knife being pushed towards his head. He identified it as a special task forces knife used by agents from Washington D. C. There were no records of androids being implemented into their ranks.
,,Put that away." a click of a gun made the attacker stop. Hank was standing above them, ome hand holding his head, the other pointing his gun at them.
,,Get up." he ordered and the person did as they were told. ,,Give it here." Hank took the knife away, then nodded at Connor. ,,You OK?"
Connor dusted his suit and agreed.
,,Yes, thank you." he then checked for the lights and found out they should be working again.
When he switched the lights on, the surprise was unmeasurable.
The attacker turned out to be a woman of rather weak physique, and there was another woman slouched in an armchair, sleeping heavily.
,,Who are you?" Hank growled in annoyance. The woman who attacked them was silent.
,,Hank, the other one is fataly wounded." Connor informed him after his scan. ,,If she's not treated right away she will die."
Hank leaned to the side to take a look. It was a dark-skinned middle-aged woman with raven hair and she had a loose grip on her belly.
Out of blue, the woman closer to them turned around and snatched Hank's gun away. A mildly angry woman, couldn't be over thirty, was looking at them with greyish blue eyes.
The two men froze in their movement.
,,What is your serial number?" Connor spoke up in a calm voice. His scanners told him she is no human.
,,I don't have a number." she replied softly, her voice not showing a trace of nervousness.
,,That is impossible." he frowned.
,,Sorei, stand down." suddenly, a tired female voice echoed through the room.
The girl, Sorei, relaxed in her stance and lowered the hand that held the gun. The woman in the armchair woke up. ,,The hell are ya?" she grumbled angrily and tried to stand up, but Sorei kept her sitting.
,,Ma'am, you should get medical help, immediately." Connor repeated his earlier observation. He got a mean look as a response from the injured woman.
,,He's right. C'mon, you two, we'll get y'all to the hospital and there you'll tell us what we need to know." Hank agreed with Connor, but they were met with resistance.
,,No, we can't go there." Sorei was standing protectively between the two and the injured woman.
,,That wasn't a question." Hank retorted with a strong hint of annoyance. ,,Get in the car so we can get goin'."
Something flickered in Sorei's eyes that Hank didn't notice and Connor couldn't understand.
,,We're not going." she growled in an in-human voice that made them shiver.
,,Tell us who you are. Then we'll decide." the injured woman decided.