Voss froze. His head whipped toward her. In the glare of the patrol car’s light bar, his face was a mask of terror, not malice. His hands shot up—empty.
They arrived in two minutes. The street was empty. Rain hammered the awning of the “Quick-Stop.” Through the steamed glass, Lena saw a figure in a hoodie—hands deep in pockets, shoulders tense. Police Force-FASiSO -PC-
Lena smiled, turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s hope it learns slow. I like being the one who gets to say no.” Voss froze
Match found. 2147 hours. 8th and Main. Subject: Elias Voss. Probability of armed robbery: 97.4%. Recommend immediate interdiction. His hands shot up—empty
“I—I’m just buying milk!” he stammered. “My kid’s sick! I swear!”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “The one run by Mrs. Kostas? She keeps a baseball bat under the counter. Let’s go.”
Lena ignored the AI. She stepped closer. Voss was trembling. A carton of milk lay on the wet pavement by his feet—he’d dropped it when she yelled.