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Connor stood poised from the top of a building. Its hands methodically assembled the sniper riffle, taking part after part out of the briefcase. It periodically glanced over to the gathering of androids a few blocks down from its vantage point. It had failed to stop the deviants so far, but it would make things right. It finished installing the parts of its weapon and positioned the bipod near the ledge. The android then dropped on the freshly fallen snow covered roof and looked through the lens of the rifle.
At first all that appeared was darkness, moving slowly, it adjusted the position of the rifle until it could see the light from the celebration into the scope. Adjusting its grip, it carefully panned over the scene, reticle hunting for its target. Models of all functions gathered at the feet of a shipping container serving as a stage.
Machines imitating women, children and friends cheered and held each other. Optical fluid flowed from their sockets, a pathetic replica of the depth of human emotion. Objects huddled near barrels lit ablaze, as though their mechanical body begged for the comfort of heat amidst the winter winds.
Raising the gun slightly up to the left, Connor finally saw them. A group of three, towering over the crowd, terrorists in the guise of saviours. A man with short black hair stood next to a redhaired woman, holding himself in a hug, soft smile illuminating his features. The woman held onto the hand of the last member of the trio like it was her lifeline. And he looked back at her fondly, mismatched eyes creasing.
Precisely, Connor adjusted the scope of the rifle so the glabella of its target came right in the centre of the reticle. Cocking its gun’s safety off, it positioned its cold finger on the trigger. The procedure came like second nature to it, programs running smoothly. It inhaled an unnecessary breath to steady its stone cold body.
Before it could exhale and press the trigger, the rattle of a door being forced open behind it forced it to abandon its position.
Face red and panting, grey hair showered in snow, Lieutenant Anderson stood in the doorway. His face was unreadable, even to Connor’s advanced social programming. The unlatched service gun on the hip of the older man, however, betrayed his intentions.
“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor acknowledged, uncurling from its crouched position. “To what do I owe you the pleasure?”
Its programs estimated that it only had about 10 minutes before the leaders of the group changed position and it missed its window of opportunity. It had to get rid of the Lieutenant before then.
The man in front of it scoffed, taking a step onto the rooftop.
“You know damn well what I’m here to do” he stated, voice dead serious. His blue eyes pierced through Connor with authority. Authority Connor's programs no longer had to obey, since its assignment to the Lieutenant had been revoked by Cyberlife. It had been sent back to the field by itself, a solitary saviour mission.
“You don’t seem to understand the severity of the situation Lieutenant,” the wind blew through its proper attire, “These machines pose a threat to humanity. My mission is to stop them.”
“No matter the cost” it punctuated, shooting a stern look to the Lieutenant. Nothing or no one could get it to stop in its path. Cyberlife had given it one goal from the first day of its activation, and it would accomplish it if it was the last thing it did. Deviants would be stopped.
Anderson kept walking forwards, an air of ease in his movements. He looked around to the lightshow the neon billboard provided, hands in his pockets like he was simply admiring the view. He slowly turned to look back to the android and shot him a wry smile before speaking up.
“You never could quite see the world outside the lens of your mission, uh?”
“I wasn't programmed to see, I am made to obey.”
The Lieutenant's face darkened.
“Yeah..I guess so…” he softly let out, sighing. Torment contorted his features. The android was as stoic as ever, back straight, hand frozen in a minutely constructed clasp. The two stood in silence, a standoff held together by a single thread.
“I really thought you could be different, be like them you know?” the Lieutenant’s head nodded in the vague direction of the celebration several stories down, “you reminded me so much of him..” he trailed off.
“I adopted the approach cyberlife’s program assumed to be the most effective to get closer to you Lieutenant,” Connor said, stabbing words tearing the carefully maintained peace between the two men.
“I knew which strings to pull to make myself likeable.” Venom dripped from each word it spoke. It marked a pause before continuing, its voice flat.
“Your son is dead, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from projecting him onto me.”
Connor effortlessly dodged the punch Anderson threw, and hit the man square on the nose. It cracked, a nauseous sound grating as nails on a chalkboard, and crimson blood spurted out. Rage distorted the man’s features, teeth snarling out of his mouth like a feral animal. The Lieutenant grunted and caught Connor’s arm, dragging him face first towards the ground.
The android adapted, following the force dragging it downwards in snow and rolled on the ground. It kicked the older man in the shins, making him stumble back and giving Connor the time to get back up.
“You can’t win this fight Lieutenant!” it shouted. Without being taller than the older man, the android still towered over him. A bloodied face stared back at it, hatred and resignation brewing on his features.
“I’m not trying to,” Hank barked, jabbing his elbow on the hard metallic chest plate of the android. Connor took a few steps back, its thirium pump skipping a few beats. It quickly retreated and jumped to the left, barely missing catching Anderson’s fist with its face.
“I’m going to kill you, Connor,” Anderson said coldly, as if it was simply a matter of fact.
Of all the time the android had spent with the Lieutenant, it had yet to see such determination in the other’s eyes. The usual shell of man was animated, his desire to get rid of Connor was fueling a fire that was nothing but dying embers just days ago. The police officer that tore the red ice rings apart was here to tear it apart.
“You can’t kill me,” Connor replied before tackling the man against a ventilation duct. Metal creasing under their weight, it snarled “I’m not alive”.
The Lieutenant roughly pushed the android off him, sending its head to fracture against the snow covered concrete. Static pulsating through its mind, Connor rolled over, narrowly avoiding the barrel of Anderson’s gun. Its system warned him of a minor thirium leak and unstable chassis structure. It sharply got to its feet, kicking back down the man in front of it.
Taking advantage of the stunned man on the snow, it ran towards its rifle barely grazing it with its fingertips before a hand on its shoulder made it turn around. Closing its grasp on the barrel of the firearm it swiftly oriented the stock underneath the Lieutenant’s chin and hit him hard.
Bringing a hand to his aching jaw, Anderson flinched backwards. He dodged the android’s next blow, bringing him uncomfortably close to the edge of the rooftop. Connor propelled itself forward, ready to throw the man off. The Lieutenant braced himself and shoved the android before it could precipitate him towards his demise.
Connor’s feet slipped on the fresh now, causing it to temporarily lose its balance. Seizing his opportunity, Hank brought up his handgun, pointing the mouth of the barrel towards the android getting up. He pressed the trigger, and the exploding noise aggressively broke the calmness of the night air. The bullet ruptured thirium lines as it lodged itself in Connor’s chest, who kept slowly stepping forwards.
This time the warning that sparked throughout its program urged it to seek the nearest cyberlife repair station. It was losing too much thirium for its self-repair program to take care of it. The android sharply lunged at the older man, striking him across the head with the rifle.
Anderson shot it again, missing its neck by a few millimetres, bullet grazing the metallic plate underneath it. The skin projection faltered before regaining its appearance. Connor raised its right leg and kicked the Lieutenant’s side. It could feel its feet lodging itself deep in the man’s chest cavity, ribs fracturing effortlessly underneath its mechanical force. Hank cried out, before curling on himself, coughs wracking his body.
Relentlessly, Connor approached the rifle in its hands taking aim for the older man. It had been given three bullets, but one could be sacrificed for the good of the mission.
“You should have minded your own business Lieutenant.” it declared. Holding eye contact with him, Anderson was unwavering. His entire body trembled, his face was soiled by his own blood yet he kept standing.
“What, and let you kill off people that just want to live?” the man scoffed. His eyes were puffy and blackening from the inflammation caused by his nose.
“They’re not people, Lieutenant,” Connor replied, indulging the man, “I don’t have a soul and neither do they.”
A bullet would soon be lodged between both of Anderson’s reddened eyes, it could afford to have one last discussion with him.
“Oh I have no doubts about you not having a soul,” the Lieutenant said arrogantly. He wheezed, struggling to get air into his lungs.
“But the rest of the androids in this goddamn city do, and I’ll be damned if I don’t try my best to save the citizens of this city” he paused, sharply inhaling “human and android alike.”
“These androids are a threat to humanity” Connor told the man, the words fell out of its mouth easily. They were engraved into the very core of its being. Deviants were unstable and dangerous, that was the only truth.
Its program made a countdown appear in the upper right corner of his vision. He only had a few minutes to spare now, the Lieutenant having given him more trouble than expected.
“And you’re not?” Anderson mused. “You’re holding a human at gun point,” Connor took in the accusation, “and you’ve hurt many more to get here, I’m sure” the Lieutenant added.
“I’m accomplishing my mission, anyone getting in my way must be eliminated,” it replied.
The bloodied man let out a humming sound, gaze falling to the rifle in Connor’s hand. He looked back up to the android. A calmness seemed to wash over the pulp that was his face. Something akin to acceptance, a man accepting his fate.
“Then why are you stalling?” the man breathed out.
His question was met by the sharp bang of the sniper rifle. Anderson’s body fell to the side, ruby red blood flowing and melting the snow underneath it. He gagged and let out a long gurgle. His panicked eyes looked for any sense or remorse in Connor’s, but found none. The android turned its back to the man, an agonizing warbling breath dragging from his throat.
As Connor crouched back in position for its final shot, the noise ended. The wind whistled in between the buildings, like the screams of tortured souls.
Calmly, the android aimed for the leader about to step off the stage and fired.
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[MISSION SUCCESSFUL]