Partners [Path Unlocked 🔓]

Chapter 4 - The Assignment

Amanda Stern was a justly named woman from what HK800 - Well, Hank now, he supposed - could gather as he entered the moderately sized, glass office and pulled the large see-through door shut behind him, though why anyone would design a private office with crystal clear glass windows for walls, the android would never know. Privacy was apparently not in the department's dictionary.

Not that the glass walls had anything to hide. The room was frugally decorated, only two file cabinets stationed in the far corners of the office to speak for wall cover and nothing but the large desk situated in the center of the empty area to stake claim on the unused floor space. A small television hung from a metal arm of sorts lowering down from the ceiling just against the wall running longways undisturbed by the glass doors, the station tuned to the news channel where a blonde woman was speaking.

Amanda sat with a straight backed posture to rival that of an android, her hands clasped neatly before her atop her desk where only a single pale blue vase housing an individual rose was left to cover the sleek, white surface, her scarlet nail polish catching the cold, white lights poised along the ceiling and reflecting the sheen back with vicious strength. With black box braids dotted throughout with brief segments of robin egg blue and a dash of purple here and there styled neatly into a tight french twist, the police captain wore a simplistic black dress suit with little to accentuate it save for a white drape tossed stylistically across her left shoulder and a large necklace composed of a few dozen cubes of varying sizes threaded together in a geometric array with a matching bracelet of similar make wrapped about her right wrist.

Captain Stern's face was not twisted into a scowl of anger nor were her gloss stained lips pulled downwards in an obvious frown, there was absolutely nothing dramatic or emotional about the way she regarded Connor as he moved across the room and slowly lowered himself into the white padded chair poised across from her on the near side of the pristine desk. However, somehow the slight, barely discernible glint of disapproval in her eyes as she scowled down at the man who lowered slightly under her cold gaze seemed far worse.

"This is the third time you've been late to work this week, Connor." Captain Stern spoke coolly, her flowing voice carefully measured in an emotionless tone that gave absolutely nothing away.

"I'm sorry, Amanda." Is all Connor had to offer, the detective keeping his gaze locked firmly downwards and his head slightly ducked so his curling hair fell over his face and almost obstructing his soft features from where Hank stood unobtrusively at the far wall, head held high and hands clasped behind his back in silent observation.

"Is there something bothering you, Connor?" The police captain prompted, softening her voice some and extending a hand to gently brush away the wayward hair fallen over the detective's face, causing him to slowly pull his gaze back up from the floor to meet the chief's.

"No, Amanda." Detective Anderson replied a bit too sharply, lips tugging downwards in the beginnings of a disgruntled frown as his eyes met the woman's and determination hardened his soft gaze. "It won't happen again." Connor promised solemnly, remorse and conviction alike both clearly visible in his unwavering expression as Amanda nodded once and pulled back to her original position.

"Good." The woman replied firmly, the softness present in her tone a moment before glaringly absent once more to be replaced by utter coldness as she straightened her back and flicked her gaze to the television still playing softly in the background.

The woman on the screen, a Rosanna Cartland according to Hank's instantaneous facial scan, was giving a dramatic rundown of a confrontation between a famous artist's household android and the man's son. There honestly wasn't much to report, the son, Leo Manfred, had shown aggressive behavior towards his father and the android had shoved the younger Manfred in a sudden outburst of deviancy. The police had arrived, the deviant had been shot, and both humans had survived with little injury to speak of. Rosanna, however, was making the minor altercation sound like a walking doomsday warning and if the pessimistic frown Amanda Stern was fixing the monitor with was anything to go by, the police chief agreed with the overdramatic newscaster.