Episode 16-3: Downpour

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: City Public

(10:43 Hours)

"Look, the shops don't even open until 11:00. We've got a bit of time to do some building perimeter sweeping before anyone notices," Clyde says, pulling out a device loaded up with the evidence we collected last night. He sets it down on the ground next to him, and it slowly deploys into the shape of a mechanical pooch. "Alright IsPup, find what you can."

I look down at the work of Amelia; a robot dog with high efficiency for forensic investigation. She was so proud of her first IsPup that she had to go and make IsPup Version 2 for us to take along for our missions. Although we didn't tell her that we were using it for a mission belonging to the Hartford quadrant. I'm sure she wouldn't mind.

"Lookit that," I begin, "a dog doing what its master says. Isn't it ironic, pup?"

He looks at me with a distaste for my attempt at humor. "Do you ever stop to think that maybe your jokes could be offensive?"

"Sure, when I'm talking to sensitive people. Are you turning into one?"

He scoffs, "Ha! Just hold your muzzle shut and let IsPup work."

The dog pretends to sniff the ground with its metal nose, detecting that the same aroma from the crime scene matches the location. He whirls around on his wheels for feet and darts off between the two buildings.

We follow the dog through the alleyway watching its colorful lights illuminate the dark corners it ran past. It came up to a set of stairs lifting up onto a small back patio for one of the stores. It was the flower shop.

I smile. "What? All that technology shoved up in you and you can't climb some stairs?"

IsPup barks happily and turns back to the stairs, clearing all of them in a single jump. Well, it was more of him hovering above them rather than jumping. Then he turns my way and barks again.

"Ah, screw you too."

"Enough," Clyde says as he steps next to the door that IsPup was scratching at. He grabs the knob and tries to turn it, but to no avail. "Locked."

I give him a slow clap. "Great work, detective! I would've never guessed a closed store would have all its doors locked."

He smirks. "Sounds like someone's in a good mood. Just hurry up and do your... thing."

I step up next to him and nudge his arm gently. "Alrighty, please make way for the expert in infiltration."

"It's a simple lock, a 2-bit thug could do what you do."

"Do you see any 2-bit thugs around here? I bet most are only worth a ha'penny." I raise my hand next to the lock and bring out a single manicured claw. It slips in easily, and it took me little effort to feel the tumblers and learn the way they like to be touched. A satisfying click meant a job well done. "There we are. Okay, Jarhead, you wanna take point or let that pile of scrap in first?"

"IsPup has dibs. Let him in."

I step aside and watch IsPup roll in. His blinking lights faded away as he entered stealth mode. I have to admit that his adaptive A.I. helps out in a pinch; he just knows when it's time to go quiet.

Clyde pulls out the remote for IsPup. "I can see what he picks up with this forensic interface. Anything worth our time will be highlighted and analyzed on the spot. Saves us the hassle of contacting Amelia for evidence."

I nod my head. "No kidding? Gosh, this is a huge step up from Hartford's technology." I lean against the wall and keep my eyes on my watch. "Tell me if you find anything, we don't have much longer to be here."

He squints at the HUD screen. "Alright IsPup, let's get started."

"Don't talk to it like that, it might become sentient." I watch and listen to its whirring sound as it slides across the store floor sniffing like crazy. I switch my view from looking outside the front store window to watching IsPup roam around so fluently. "Anything yet?"

"No. You said to tell you if I found something, I haven't found anything yet."

"Ooo, someone's getting feisty."

"Yeah, and I have every right to be. Just keep quiet and watch out for anyone heading in our direction."

"Okay, okay. You won't hear another peep out of me."

Footsteps. Coming from upstairs?

"Clyde, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he asks, not even taking his eyes off IsPup's HUD.

"We gotta go-"

"Stop right there!"

I freeze in place, and so does Clyde at the sound of a new voice. There was an upstairs. How could two highly trained Ispio agents not notice an entire unexplored floor above their heads? A hefty-looking ox holding a pistol was standing at the top of the stairs, still dawning his pj's. This must have been one of those 'shop-and-home' types of buildings.

"That's not good," Clyde mumbles to himself.

The ox walks down the rest of the stairs, and IsPup backs into a dark corner out of view, his lights shutting off. He has the gun aimed at Clyde, but his eyes dart between the two of us. "I'm calling the cops...don't move," he tells us.

Great! Just one more thing to set us back!

Clyde shoots me a wink, letting me know that I should try and use my persuasion powers to help us out of this jam.

My hands were already beginning to raise, so I raised them up higher and shifted my feet to face the ox. I try my girl voice just to see if he'd be more merciful. "This...really isn't what it looks like."

He ignores my words but keeps his eyes on me. I could see a phone on an end table he was inching towards.

"I can promise you that we weren't trying to steal."

He stood up straight. "This isn't some movie, there's only one reason to break into a shop."

"No, no sir," I inch my way towards him, but that only made him point the gun at me at lightning speed. Lightning speed usually means a twitchy trigger finger. Twitchy trigger finger usually means accidental discharge of a weapon. I'm guessing he's never actually used the pistol and has little to no experience with firearms. I'm inching my way towards a ticking time bomb. Gotta be careful.

"Don't move!" he barks, but I'm not about to quit just yet. I've still got some leverage, I just can't think of what it is right now.

"Okay, I'll stay right here," Now to try something risky. I turn around slowly with my hands still above my head so that my back, and more importantly my butt, were facing him. My form-fitting jeans allowed my body to show a little curviness. I start to wag my tail, then slowly I get my hips involved. I place my hands behind my head so it looks less 'hostage' style and more' sexy dancer' style.

"What the hell..." I hear the ox say.

I couldn't see his face, so I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I could see Clyde's face, and he seemed to be studying the ox's reaction. He starts moving his fingers on the HUD again, making sure that he wasn't moving enough to be caught. I had the shop owner distracted, now it's up to Clyde to-

"AHH!!!" the ox screams.

I quickly turn to see, and the small glimmer of sunlight bounced off the protruding metal stick that was now stuck in his neck. His muscles went from contracted and tense to loose and relaxed. He fell over, not moving a single centimeter.

"Clyde, what did you do?"

"I had IsPup shoot a tranquilizer at him while you were dancing. Nice moves by the way."

My cheeks feel hot. "T-Thanks."

"We have to move now, there's no way this is a safe zone now."

"Wait, did you collect anything?"

"No, but we can't now. The area's been compromised." He moves to the back door where we came from with IsPup trailing behind him. I take one last look at the ox, feeling a bit sorry that maybe we could've avoided all this if we just checked the place for any heat signatures.

*** *** ***

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Hearth & Barker Residence

(14:55 Hours)

I sat there with the file in hand, rereading everything over and over again.

"You still reading Archer's file? If we didn't find any algorithms the first hundred times, what makes you think you'll see something now?"

I wanted to tell him 'We have to try' or 'Giving up is never the answer' or something cheesy like you always hear the heroes say on t.v, but that just wasn't the case for me right now. "I dunno, nothin' else to do." The radio kept blabbering on about sports or something, not sure what Clyde had it tuned to, but it was starting to aggravate me. "Could you turn that junk off already? You're not even listening to it."

"Fine, how about some music?"

"No. Off. Now."

"Whatever," he says in a mocking voice. He touches the dial but didn't click it off. A loud emergency broadcasting signal stopped him. Once the beep was over a reporter began talking at rapid-fire speed.

"Behind me is the aftermath of the Ox and The Tulip flower shop from this afternoon's fire. Police have released a suspected arson case for the building, also piling on 1st-degree murder with the victim being the shop owner, Alex Garner, who lived inside the residence of his merchant building.

"It seems that he didn't make it out in time, as the police found his body at the front entrance of his shop. Of course, they'll proceed with the autopsy as is standard procedure in case the victim was exposed to chemicals or if any other suspicious markings could be found. The series of-"

Clyde shut off the radio, his face keeping the same cool he always does. I wish I had as much discipline as him, but here I was, staring mouth-open at the radio.

"Clyde..."

He stayed silent.

"He died. He died because he was tranquilized. By us!"

"No!" he screams at me, his cool face melting away. His true wrath was a sight to behold, I felt like I was in the presence of someone who would do real damage to me. "Archer killed him! We didn't kill him! We didn't set the building on fire! Archer did! He killed him!"

I tremble under his towering figure, his piercing eyes drilling into my own, his violent energy washing over me in this cramped room. I can't breathe! This isn't Clyde! Where's the Clyde that makes me feel safe? Where's the Clyde that tells me everything will work out, and we're going to go home in one piece? This... this is completely foreign to me.

"Clyde, please. C-Calm down. We don't even know if Archer had anything to do with the fire."

He freezes, his gaze sticking to me like one of his targets. Then he stands up straight, giving me back my personal space. "Calm down? Yes, I need to calm down."

"Um, Clyde?"

"This is just another factor to add to the mission summary. A number to count. A small sentence to explain the event. There's never anything sentimental about these assignments, so we just gotta keep a clear head about things and go on."

No, I don't want the stoic Clyde again. I just want... I don't know what I want.

*** *** ***

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Unknown Location

(17:00 Hours)

The room is well lit, the monitors and the light bulb both turned on. Archer and "Chief" both sit at the table, Chief with his back towards the screen, Archer facing the screens. He had to watch, he needs to know everything.

"I knew Alex Garner," Chief says, his eyes puffy and red from his recent crying, "and I know that he didn't deserve this."

"I'm sorry," Archer apologizes, "it's tough; going through a friend's death. You're strong, Chief, don't you forget it."

"Going through a death is one thing; being the reason why they're dead is another. I don't think I'll ever be the same man I once was."

"Maybe not, but maybe you're a stronger man now. You'll pull through this, I know you will."

Chief shifts his eyes down to stare at his hands resting on the table. He could still see the small gasoline stain on his glove when he accidentally spilled a drop on himself setting up the next phase of the plan. He trusted Archer to know what he was doing, but Chief didn't bother trying to keep up with him.

But Archer's plan was working. The agents were beginning to feel the guilt of the deaths. Just a few more steps, Archer told him. It was always just a few more steps.