Android Cop

---

- Go.

- Beverly Hills.

This place sucks.

You think it sucks now?

You should have seen it before the quake.

Is that your contact?

- Damn it. Copy.

- This is Hammond.

What the hell are you doing in the Zone?

No, don't answer that.

You got some action coming your way.

Yeah, what kind of action?

It's Dext Muldoon.

You want to take me now or later.

He's in around the dispensary.

We manage to track his vehicle.

We'll be there in 2 minutes.

Be where?

Aye, this guy is just right

where you're standing.

Go!

- Go after Dext!

- Copy.

Central is a quarantine boundary.

Gimme the melard.

Give the overwrite code.

Shut it down.

Got it.

Huh, huh, huh, huh.

What's so funny a**hole?

You're dead.

How many of you officers

have been in this zone before?

That's what I thought. Rookies.

Yeah, it's about time the rookies

busted good cherries in this zone.

Except for you Hammond,

you don't have a cherry.

We're heading into Level 3.

So I have Level 3 protection.

We have counters and breathers on standby.

I don't think we'll be needing em.

Why are they radioactive?

Well the quake took out 3 local

power stations. Fusion reactors.

Fortunately there wasn't a full meltdown.

But they did release some of the bad stuff.

Who the hell would want to live there?

Do the math.

It's like Club Med for criminals.

Some of the people there

don't have a choice.

Entering the dead zone, Sir.

When we hit the ground,

the target is Dexts Muldoon.

The locals consider him to

be some kind of Che Guevara.

Do not be fooled. Take him out.

You take out a one-fifth

of the drug trading zone.

Two minutes landing, Sir.

Let's buck it up.

Check the cameras.

Jones, you're good.

Poschek, good.

Jackson, good.

Hammond! Hammond,

you're not transmitting.

Need another, Sarge.

Little easier to transmit

and I've got a camera, Sarge.

Right. Hammond you're good.

- Looks like we got company.

- Really small fry though.

We'll take care of them.

Gentlemen, start your countdown.

- Yes sir. This is it.

- Let's go.

Too exposed.

We're going through.

What's wrong with her?

She's got ..ginmars..

Radiation poisoning.

Stay too long in the zone,

it can get pretty nasty.

You already had all your kids, right?

Jones.

- That ain't him.

- Keep moving.

That is not our objective.

Woh, woh, woh, woh. Back up.

Yeah, I'm talking to you.

Uh, uh, go on sit down, big fella.

We ain't here for you.

You wouldn't have set up your command

centre a few blocks away if you were.

Think we didn't see you.

Look, we don't care about your business,

alright. We just want safe passage.

You have no authority here.

- What do you want?

- Come again.

You need anything?

Medical supplies?

If there's something from the outside world

that you need, I can get it delivered to you.

- Mills?

- You copy me sir.

Good.

So if you need anything,

have one of your man

contact Sergeant Mills down

at the Command Centre.

And if it's something we

can get, he'll get it for you.

You have my word.

All we ask, is to

pass through quietly.

And what if I don't agree?

- Dammit Hammond! Nicoles call for backup.

- Yes sir.

What if what I want

isn't actually legal?

Go on.

Something from your

evidence room, perhaps.

Come on man.

Do we look like crooked cops to you?

Don't answer that.

Iodine tablets, liquid form too. Cypro,

scotch two cases, hypodermic needles,

entry cases of Mexican, Coca Cola.

- The kind with the real sugar?

- Huh, huh, huh.

I can't get my hands on that...

I mean we can't...

That was my joke.

- Mills you got that?

- Got it!

Sir, you still need that backup?

Yeah, they're not

even in the building yet.

- We got a deal.

- Good.

Freeze!

Alright, let's papparazi that b*tch.

Muldoon, this is the police.

We know you're in there and

we have the place surrounded.

- Mills, see anything?

- Yeah, an ... woman.

Searching.

Over there!

Damn it Jones. Report!

Police. See your hands.

I want you to come out.

Come on. Let's go.

Move, move, move, move.

Out. Move.

I'd like to do it all, baby.

Remember that.

Oh sh*t!

Hammond's gone lone wolf again.

Damn it.

You gotta wait for back up.

You called for back up.

Thank you.

You're dead.

How the hell did you ...?

Doesn't matter.

You have 2 dead cops on your hands.

Do you really want that?

You're in no position to negotiate.

Who said this is a negotiation.

Put down your weapon.

What you gonna do?

You gonna blow both of us up?

Dexts Muldoon, you are under arrest.

You come any closer

and I'll blow his brains out.

Sir, your handheld has been

approved for destruction.

This is not negotiable.

Put down your weapon.

- Who the hell is this guy?

- I have no idea.

You have 3 choices.

Surrender and live.

Shoot Sergeant Hammond and die.

Shoot me and die.

Make a choice.

F*** you!

Marks, Jackson on me!

Now, what the hell was that?

Did you not see me

pointing the gun at him?

What were you doing?

You almost killed me.

Negative.

There is a 73% probability that this

individual would had terminated you

if I had not interceded.

Interceding.

You call that interceding.

If I had not interjected you would

have been destroyed, Sergeant Hammond.

Oh, would I. Ok. Let's see how you like

a grenade blowing up over your head.

He had this on him.

He had a concealed weapon.

Did anybody frisk him?

God damn it.

- You scanned him, right?

- I followed all operational procedures.

Yeah, but you followed them loosely.

Would you like to file

a complaint, Sergeant?

Well, if it is in the form of

punch you in the face, then, yeah.

I would advise against it.

Yeah, I bet you would Mr. Roboto.

One more thing. Who sent you?

I received a request for back up.

I provided back up.

- What the hell was that?

- Our future.

Well, the professionals finally

showed up. How about that?

- Oh, you're in this. Over here.

- Thank you.

- Hey, that's not for you.

- The hell it ain't.

- I made a deal.

- Well, sometimes life ain't always fair.

Tell me we're not in

the wrong run of business.

It's not just wrong.

Chief! Chief!

I'd like to report an incident.

Hammond. I heard all about it.

No, I'm not talking about the suspect.

I'm talking about that supercop.

- Supercop?

- Yeah, you know the guy I'm talking about.

That skin job. That psychopatic soda

machine. That things of men...

Hammond, before you go too far,

I want you to meet your new partner.

Will you give us a minute?

That means, move out of the way.

I know you don't like it, Hammond,

but you're the best man for it.

Well, assuming I've forgotten

about today's nifty events,

after what happened out

there with that autogun

do you think I'd be happy to take

a position anywhere near a machine.

It's an android.

Well, I don't care what you call it.

It's still a machine.

You know how you sound when

you say you don't like machines?

Look.

Somebody programmed that thing.

Just like somebody programmed

that autogun to stop intruders,

yet it missed our call sign, a secure

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