The Bomber

"He's heading toward Cottonwood Avenue," said Detective Manning, turning the neighborhood corner. Paul Dawson was about a block or two up the street. Manning had been chasing him across the country for the last two days and finally had him in sight.

There were children playing in the road, riding their bikes and skateboards on homemade ramps.

The detective leaped over one of the children with ease as if skipping a step on a staircase. The children watched with awe as the metal man landed and continued chasing Dawson.

Through training, Manning's mechanical system was put through challenging tests, allowing him to run faster than any human. 

"We're coming," said his partner, Danny, in his head. Before they released Manning for duty, all police, detectives, and federal agents were off finding the main terrorist who pulled the strings. Manning's job for this case, however, was to find those who were involved. Paul Dawson was the last person on his list.

Soon enough, he caught up to Dawson. When Manning was in reach, he took hold of Dawson's arm and stopped running. Dawson fell to his knees. He tried to tear his arm free from Manning's strong grip. When he realized this was futile, he pulled out his gun from his back pocket and shot the detective in the chest.

The bullet ricocheted and hit Dawson in the side. Blood oozed out of his wound, causing him to let go of the gun as he reached for his side. It hit the ground but thankfully, it didn't go off.

"You should've thought that through." Although the detective was only a machine, he had a sense of humor. A little bit, at least. The older version was less human-like and that made both their associating co-workers and civilians uncomfortable. With the new model, they were able to interact with humans and seem more normal.

A weird, warm feeling tickled his insides. Maybe it was satisfaction of finally capturing Dawson?

"You asshole," spat Dawson.

Manning just smiled. "I got him. Sending you my location." The detective went through the GPS that was implanted in him and sent his partner what he needed, all in a matter of seconds. Manning could hear helicopters from nearby. The reporters, he thought as he turned his head to view a closeup on the flying machines. Not to mention, he could hear the sirens that were coming from a few blocks away.

Dawson wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, so when he yelled, "Aren't ya gonna help me? I still have rights ya know; you can't just let a man die!" Manning quickly denied his request, knowing it wouldn't matter. Dawson knew he wasn't going to get off with a simple warning and Manning could see the wound wasn't that bad. The bullet had just passed through the flesh, not hitting any important organs on its way through. Once his partner arrived, they could send him to get fixed. However, he would still be sentenced to death for what he did. 

"For someone who helped in a bombing, killing almost a thousand people? I can and I will."

Not long after, police cruisers and the SWAT teams came speeding from all directions. The children from before ran to the sidewalk, getting out of the way of the vehicles. Manning saw Danny getting out from one of the cars and walk toward him with handcuffs dangling from his fingers.

"Took you long enough," said Manning, a grin plastered across his metal face.

"Sorry. We stopped for donuts." He smiled, placing Dawson's arms behind his back to handcuff him and reading him his rights. It surprised Manning that even though it had been a long day of work, his partner could still make a joke at a serious time like this. 

They escorted Dawson to the car, opened the door, shoved him in the backseat, and slammed it.

"Ya know," began Danny, "I could get used to this."

"Used to what?"

"Having someone like you on the team. I thought adding Androids was ridiculous because y'all would just take over my job, but I realized that ya could help . . . especially when it deals with not getting shot at." Danny laughed, shaking his head. "I'm glad you're on the team." He patted Manning on the shoulder and walked away.

"Well, thanks . . ." Manning said to himself. If he had the ability to blush, his cheeks would be full of red. But all he could do was smile with wide eyes. With his new capabilities, this was something that made him realize that he wasn't a mindless robot that served humans. He had a purpose, a reason to be functional. He helped solve crimes that other detectives couldn't. That was what he wanted to do the most. Although he thought humans were helpless in some aspects, he noted that they were intelligent creatures, creating remarkable things.

He'd caught Dawson. Who knew what else Manning could do, who else he could catch that hadn't been caught yet? He had access to every camera in the world, knowledge of where every car was headed whether or not it had GPS. There were so many features that the detective had at his disposal that the possibilities were endless.

He had the opportunity to prevent chaos from happening.

But his grin faded as he remembered that it hadn't happened for his first case. If only he was operating two months earlier. Back then, he would've been able to find Paul Dawson before he set off the bombs.

"Another bombing went off in Times Square . . ." a voice echoed in his mechanical ears. He was picking it up through the radio. From the distance, he saw Danny turn to face him and Manning knew that he had heard the news as well. His expression told Manning what was going to happen: they were going to travel across the country again for a new case.