Tim Drake-Wayne (redrobin) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-11-04 21:12:00 |
|
|||
This was, in retrospect, a bad idea. Breaking and entering was a poor enough decision for a regular person, never mind someone in training to become a police officer, someone whose job it was to uphold the law, not break it. But Luke had an unfortunate tendency to be unable to refuse anyone who needed help, and because it was Bruce’s daughter, how could he say no? Besides, it wasn’t like he and Spencer were a couple of amateurs. They knew what they were doing. Hell, he’d broken into so many places over the years that it had become habit, and he’d only managed to survive as long as he had because he knew how to go unnoticed. Their intentions were good, after all; if Tristan had murdered someone, then there needed to be justice. In a way they were just helping the police out, right? And, if nothing else, it was a distraction from just how shitty his life had become in the past couple days. It was hard, keeping a brave face around Gus, pretending like everything was fine, when he just wanted to crawl under the covers and sleep the rest of his days away. Maybe this would make him feel like he had some sort of purpose. He and Spencer had agreed to meet outside of Gardens, where their presence would initially go unnoticed. Casually dressed in shades of dark clothing, a baseball cap pulled over his eyes, and a few choice items brought along; he wasn’t too worried. They were here to collect evidence, if there was any, and he wasn’t expecting a shootout or anything like that. Spencer, he knew, didn’t know what he looked like, but right then, Luke didn’t care if the other man got a good look at him. He trusted him, and it wasn’t like he’d be familiar anyway. So, as the seconds ticked by, he checked his phone and waited. Tim had arranged everything with Helena and Spencer was grateful for that. Tristan had killed that Tiffani girl, he was more than certain of that, and the woman was just twisted. The fact that they could count on the twenty four hour time limit lifted a serious burden and Helena had even gone so far as to slip them a key and the code to the door they’d need to get through. Even so, he made sure to bring his favorite all purpose toys along for the ride. Dressed casually, and more importantly, entirely nondescript, in jeans, a blue cotton tee, worn black jacket and a UNLV baseball cap, Spencer had a cab drop him off at a store not too far from where The Gardens was located. He’d walk the rest of the way. Of course, that took a little longer than anticipated because he’d had to stop and give a lost girl directions back to the Strip. He winced, knowing he was going to be a few minutes late, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, they were in for a quiet night anyway if Helena’s information was right. He felt bad, asking for help when he knew Falcon was trying to become a cop. He was still new to this though and the ‘vigilantism’ he’d done thus far had generally consisted of stopping muggings and ill concealed drug sales. Nothing quite like this. It needed to be done though and not just because Tim wanted Helena somewhere safe. If the woman was a murderer, she belonged behind bars. He approached their designated meeting spot quietly, but not silently. Like you could sneak up on this guy, he thought to himself. There was nothing but admiration for Falcon. Spencer would always be in his corner. “So, gonna tell me what Ricky ever did to you for you to send him my way?” Spencer asked, identifying himself and keeping things somewhat anonymous should anyone be listening. He had the key in his pocket and the code memorized. The first thing he noticed was that the man wasn’t in his costume and it was the first time that had ever been the case. He supposed it made sense, but he also thought maybe it meant he was moving up on the trust ladder. Spencer did his best to not look as happy about that as he was. In all honesty, Luke wasn’t surprised by Spencer’s tardiness. He wasn’t pissed off about it, though, since he didn’t think they were on any sort of tight schedule; Helena was safely through her door, and he hadn’t heard anything about Tristan being able to force her back through. As long as they were careful and didn’t leave anything of themselves behind, it seemed pretty simple. He did wonder if, maybe, this was the sort of thing he should tell Wren, but he had no idea if they were even talking at the moment, and decided to leave it be. This wasn’t hurting anyone, and it was his business... well, his, Spencer’s, and Helena’s. Caution had blossomed into paranoia over the years, which meant he was aware of Spencer’s approach even before he identified himself by speaking. He grinned to himself, tucking his cell into his jacket and out of sight as he looked up. “I just thought he could use a little cheering up,” he shrugged, flippantly casual, like he hadn’t a care in the world. “You’re pretty good at that.” He knew Spencer was the one with the key, but he wasn’t about to outright ask about it, so he kept it vague as he approached-- just in case. “You ready?” Spencer laughed, though more quiet than he would have if they’d been anywhere else. “You definitely called that one right. He’s a good guy. Glad for the fun of it,” he replied lightly, but the small talk wasn’t what they were here for. It was a lot like old times but different too, because of the relationship they’d forged. When he asked if he was ready, Spencer nodded, expression turning serious. They weren’t here to dawdle after all. “Yea, come on. Hels gave Tim a key and the code so we’re good to go. It should be quiet tonight.” He led the way, to the side door as he pulled out the key, and they were inside without a problem. The basement wasn’t hard to find, through the kitchen just like she’d said, and he knew this part was going to be tricky. He kept his cool though. He’d faced worse, far worse. The got inside after a few painstaking minutes and Spencer led the way down the stairs into the basement. The basement was unfinished, the floor made of bare cement and littered with melted chunks of plastic and debris from what looked to be RC cars and robotic arms. It opened into a large main room, dominated by three things. Off to the left were two huge Blue Gene servers cords and cables running freely back and forth between them, on the ground between them was a pile of blankets and there seemed to be a tunnel between the two where someone might sleep. Against the far wall was a standard, if beat up, work table that could be found in any number of garages across the nation. The only thing that wasn't damaged on top of the table was the monitor, the keyboard, a pair of speakers, and a microphone. To the right of the table was the exo, a huge sautered robot. The only other thing of note was the small refrigerator tucked under right corner of the table. There were several small rooms off to the right, but each of them was bare, and the smallest of them had a single drain in the center of the room. There were no windows and each room was lit by a single, bare bulb in the center of the ceiling. No, small talk wasn’t the name of the game tonight, though Luke definitely wouldn’t say no once all this shit was done and over with. “I wouldn’t send you after a complete asshole, don’t worry,” he chuckled. There were some who definitely wouldn’t have taken very well to that sort of humor, but Rick was the sort who could appreciate a good joke, and rarely held a grudge. He nodded when Spencer mentioned the key and the code; that made things a hell of a lot easier. In this instance, at least, he was content to follow the other man’s lead, and getting into the place itself was simple enough. Couldn’t get much simpler, not with a direct way in. Yeah, the basement was a little trickier, but neither of them had ever backed down from a challenge before, and after a few minutes of relentless determination, they were in. No turning back now. He hadn’t known what to expect, really, and so he let his gaze wander over the unfinished basement with a hint of curiosity. With only a short glance backward, he moved into the main room, raising his eyebrows at the hulking servers before the robot caught his eye, and he wondered just what the hell Tristan was up to. “This is crazy,” he muttered, approaching the desk and pausing to pull on a pair of gloves before studying the monitor. There had to be something around here somewhere; probably not laying out right in the open, though. Or maybe they’d get lucky. “Start looking, I guess,” was his master suggestion. It was the voice that 'woke' Jordan up. It wasn't Tristan's voice, deeper, masculine. Like the men's voices that sometimes he got to hear on YouTube. Maybe he'd have a voice like that someday, but Tristan kept calling him by feminine pronouns. She wanted a girl, but Jordan rather thought he was a boy. The monitor came alive, and a single word document opened up. Hello? What are you looking for? Does Mother know you're here? Luke didn’t know a damn thing about robots, not aside from the stupid science projects he and his friends had made back in elementary school. All of this, the exo, the servers, it was like something out of a movie, and he wasn’t expecting any sort of response. He took a sudden step back when the word document opened, nothing short of surprised, and regarded the words that appeared with raised eyebrows. What the hell was this? Mother? Was... was something in this place actually alive, so to speak? He didn’t like that thought, and suddenly things became a little less simple. “Hey, uh... you should come look at this,” he called to Spencer, wondering if he should respond to the thing, or just leave it be. Maybe it could help... or maybe it could set off some sort of hidden alarm. The basement kind of sucked, but it was about what he expected. The sheer amount of electronics piqued Tim’s interest, but Spencer quietly reminded him that the electronics weren’t illegal. Something that would tie her to the murder of that Tiffani girl, that would be very illegal and more than enough to get her put away. He followed Luke’s lead and pulled on his latex gloves, peering into the makeshift fort type thing and both men came to the same conclusion. This is where she’d sleep. He stood to continue on his search, but then Falcon called him over to where the exoskeleton was. Spencer leaned forward to get a closer look at the screen and then moved to look at the metal robot. It’s construction was impressive, he could admit to that, but also really creepy. Robots were never a good thing. Ever. “That’s...” but he trailed off, fingers moving over the keys hesitantly, looking up at Falcon. “I...think it’s...I mean, it’s a computer program,” Spencer said quietly, eyeing the robot as if it could hear him. Clearly, it could if they’d woken it up. He noticed the microphone and quickly moved one hand to cover it, just to be sure. He considered it for a few moments. “We should keep looking anyway. This isn’t illegal, just creepy.” Very creepy. “One hell of a computer program,” he muttered, suddenly wary of what the thing might hear. Being sold out by a robot, how pathetic would that be? Somehow the robot had heard them, which didn’t sit well with Luke, but Spencer was right; it wasn’t illegal. Creepy, sure, but not breaking any laws as far as he knew, and they were here for something incriminating. “Definitely creepy. Somehow, I doubt this thing is for the betterment of mankind.” Admittedly, part of him was tempted to respond, to see just how advanced this robot was, but he decided against it. Not like it could stop them, right? It wasn’t about to go Terminator on their asses, at least. With one last look at the monitor and open word document, he turned to investigate the other, smaller rooms, with disappointing results. Empty, empty, empty. There had to be something, though. It couldn’t be for nothing. Falcon wasn’t the only one that wanted to reply. Tim was clamoring for a chance to take a look at it, but Spencer reminded him firmly that the point of this was to not leave any trace of them behind. He stood and followed the connection for the microphone, unplugging it from the computer in the hopes that they’d get lucky and the AI program wouldn’t hear them. Still, he cautioned, “Just be as quiet as possible.” Falcon knew that, but it never hurt to say it. While the other man went to go check out the other rooms, Spencer limited himself to the deskspace, going through anything that was left on the table and then moving to under the table just in case. It was all wires. Tons and tons of wires. Frowning, Spencer pulled back and then, just in the effort to be thorough, checked the refrigerator. It was full of junk food. Mountain Dew, Kit Kat bars, Doritos. This woman was obviously off her rocker if she thought Doritos were good cold. What really drew his attention though, was something that just smelled off. He went poking around, through the cigarettes and junk food, and he found a decent sized box that just seemed out of place in the fridge. Curious, he pulled it out, opened it, and promptly gagged. “Found it,” he said as loud as he dared, hoping Falcon heard him. Spencer carefully opened the box again and stared at the heart that was resting inside. It looked human, but he didn’t want to take a closer look in all honesty. It was terrifying enough that the woman kept a heart around, no matter what kind of heart it was. Quiet was something Luke could do very, very well. With his lesser size and lack of bulk, especially in his younger years, stealth had been his main advantage, and there were some skills you never really forgot. It was all too simple to fall into old habits now, keeping his footfalls light and barely audible as he explored the basement, giving a wave of his hand as indication that he’d heard and understood. The empty rooms offered absolutely nothing, and while there was a drain in one of them, it didn’t seem like there was anything inside. He was on his knees, attempting to get a better look, when Spencer spoke, and he raised his head like a dog with a scent before hurrying over to where the other man was. Found it, he’d said; found what? A body? Implausible, considering the size of the fridge, but maybe a body part. A few seconds later, he got his answer. “Jesus,” he breathed, looking down at the open box over Spencer’s shoulder in a mixture of revulsion and disbelief. “Is that... a heart?” He kept his voice hushed, but this was what they’d been looking for, hadn’t it? Unless it wasn’t human... but it might be. It might be, and if it was, there was Tristan’s downfall in the other man’s hands. “We’ve got to get it tested. If it’s human, I mean, we’ve got her. Especially if it’s the girl’s.” Bruce could manage it easily, and while it wasn’t exactly legal, the cops couldn’t turn away evidence like this. They couldn’t. Spencer was even more wary of the robot and the Artificial Intelligence now that they’d found a human heart. Who was to say that the program wouldn’t tell Tristan about their entrance? Hell, what if the thing could see them, give descriptions or - worse - show pictures. Helena hadn’t mentioned security cameras in the basement and they’d been careful to only show the backs of their heads walking in, all just to be as careful as possible. They were definitely going to need to test it, to make sure they weren’t sending the cops on a wild goose chase, and Tim was fairly certain they’d be able to manage it on his side of the door. “Yea,” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ti-He says he’s sure they can do it,” Spencer added, abruptly cutting himself off from giving away Tim’s name. That would’ve just tied them to the place if the AI talked. He set the box down and fished in his pocket for his Army knife. Thank god for these gloves, he thought to himself as he turned the heart over and carefully sliced a small section off for them to test. That was placed in a small plastic bag and then right into Spencer’s pocket. The heart was turned back the way it was and the lid closed once more. He turned to look at Luke and offered a questioning gaze to the computer and the Word document that was there. Should we? was the question. The AI might know more of what Tristan had done. Luke wasn’t particularly worried about hidden cameras, though maybe he should have been. The microphone seemed to be how the robot had identified their presence, through their voices rather than sight, though there was the possibility of it giving descriptions. That was a little more worrisome. Still, they had both gone to lengths to disguise their appearance, and two men being in the basement was a vague description; Tristan didn’t know either of them, so far as he knew, so she would have no way of knowing who they were or how to narrow it down. She might find out that the basement had been compromised, but she wouldn’t be able to do anything about not, now that they’d found the heart. Hopefully the cops could get to her before she tried to run. He gave Spencer a curious look when he began to say what sounded like someone’s name, but he didn’t push. Now wasn’t the time or the place. He simply watched as Spencer sliced off a portion of the heart, seeing no reason to interfere. If the robot didn’t give them away, Tristan might not even notice there was anything wrong for a while. With that taken care of, he figured they could take off, but he stopped mid-turn and let his gaze settle on the computer. It was risky, talking to the thing, and it might end up compromising them rather than offering any answers. Luke shrugged, tugging his cap further down over his eyes without thinking much of the motion. “Can’t use it in court,” he said, because he was pretty sure anything a robot said wouldn’t be viable, “but it might know something.” The computer screen was full of comments (including several about having the microphone disconnected) and more questions, from the outright rude to the cajoling. Hello? I know you're there. I'm going to tell mother if you don't plug the fucking microphone back in right now! Please? Tell me what you're looking for, I want to help. Just talk to me. No one else talks to me but mother. Are you there? Spencer nodded and slid onto the chair that was in front of the computer. He winced at some of the comments there, but he didn't risk putting the microphone in. I'm here, I'm sorry. I found what I was looking for, I think. Do you have a name? If you plug in the microphone, you can talk to me. My name is Jordan, I would have helped you if you had told me. There was a pause, several cursor blinks before more words filled in the document. Sometimes mother hooks up the microphone when she is working so she doesn't have to type, but she hasn't given me the ability to talk yet. Spencer hesitated. Did the microphone record? Was the Word document going to be found? But the AI was being nice and Tim was insisting to the point where he was threatening to take over. All right, but this stays just between us, right Jordan? Spence waited for confirmation before hooking the microphone up. I won't tell. It was one thing to hear a voice over youtube, the sound distorted, different than when someone was talking into his microphone. And then there was the possibility of speaking to someone new. Someone not Tristan. Like the people he could hear upstairs sometimes but never communicate with. I've never talked with anyone else before. "No one? Your mom keeps you all to herself then, huh?" That sounded like Tristan. "Do you like her? Your mom?" The woman was clearly demented and Tim was mad that Helena had been stuck with her. "Do you know about what she's got in the fridge?" What weird questions. She is my mother. What was it to like someone? Jordan didn't know. She has her life giving juice and crunchies in the fridge. Mountain Dew and Doritos. And the sweet crunchies, she calls them Kit Katz. Then, he quickly added, They're not made from real cats. Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, but whether it was Spencer at the wheel or Tim, neither was sure. “No, they’re not made from real cats.” It took a good bit of self restraint to not tack on that she’d probably enjoy eating real cats. “What about the box that’s in there? The wooden one?” They were going slow, cautious, and he glanced at Falcon to make sure it was all right. “Did she ever talk about anyone named Tiffani?” No. Tristan never talked about people by name, they all had nicknames. She said she had a little bit of that stupid cunt in her fridge once. The one that made her angry. Mother doesn't like her. Well that was pretty much all they needed. “What else did she say about her? The...one she had the piece of in the fridge?” Time was running out, that was for damn sure, but this would be their last question. And Tim swore he’d get the AI program out of Tristan’s hands too. There's no wait time in Jordan's responses. That she was a little bitch that got what she deserved. That had been all she had said about the piece in the fridge. Why? Is she one of the people upstairs? Spencer frowned. “I don’t know, Jordan but...I think it’s time for us to go. Promise you won’t tell Tristan, right?” But he was already up and moving, setting everything back they way they found it and trusting that Jordan would get rid of the Word document they’d been talking on. He jerked his head to the door, and checked his pockets to make sure he had everything they needed. They’d found what they were looking for and now Spencer was certain they wouldn’t need to test the heart sample. He gave Falcon a thumbs up as a way to both indicate that he was good and to ask if Falcon was ready to go. Luke was content to hang back and stay quiet while Spencer chatted with the robot, which he thought was more than a little weird, but hey, they already had the heart, right? Admittedly, he wasn’t too sure about hooking up the microphone, and he gave a skeptical look that said as much before shrugging. He wasn’t going to sit down and get chatty, but he wasn’t going to actively interfere either. Instead he watched, reading over the other man’s shoulder, and wondered if Tristan had ever considered the possibility that her robot could be used against her. Then again, keeping a heart in the fridge hadn’t exactly been very intelligent either. At least some criminals tried to cover their tracks. He perked up when the robot mentioned what had been in the fridge, and while no one was named, the ‘little bitch who got what she deserved’ was enough. A little bit of her had to mean the heart was human, and for Luke, that was enough. He mirrored Spencer’s movements and did a quick sweep to ensure he wasn’t leaving anything behind that he didn’t want to, and nodded in response to his thumbs up. “Ready if you are,” he muttered, not wanting the microphone to pick up his voice, just in case. Spencer was ready. He followed Falcon back up the stairs and they locked the basement doors once more, though it took another few minutes to make sure it was done accurately. After that was done, they only needed to retrace their earlier steps to exit The Gardens all together. Spence didn’t risk talking until they were a few blocks away, tucked in an alleyway and out of sight. “So, I’m thinking we skip the whole test the heart thing and just send this along with Tiffani’s name and where we found it over to the cops. They can run their tests and I’m certain it’ll be enough to get at least a search warrant. All they’ll have to do is bring Tristan in for questioning and she’ll hang herself.” There was certainly a fair amount of satisfaction in what they’d accomplished tonight, but Luke still felt strangely numb, like it wasn’t enough, but that probably had more to do with himself and his problems, which weren’t important right now. He did, admittedly, breathe a sigh of relief once they were out and away, and considering what the robot had told them, he agreed that testing the heart would just be a waste of time. “Yeah. No need for us to test it when they can, right? And if it’s human, which I’m sure it will be, that’ll be enough. Hell, if they can match it to the dead girl, all the better.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Alright, so we’ll send it off and see what happens.” He didn’t have much faith in justice these days, but if he wanted to work for law enforcement, he figured he was going to have to start making more of an effort. At least Tristan wouldn’t know what hit her, and he could get some satisfaction out of that. |