He hadn’t thought that they would go after a cop but that was to be expected. The Dollhouse might be run by some of the smartest people on the planet but sometimes they were complete idiots. They made their livings from giving people what they wanted, yet they couldn’t see that drawing the first blood was just going to make Ballard that much more relentless? Even plain old, original Connor could have told them that. After all, Angel had been a lot like that.
He didn’t want to worry about the FBI guy, had wanted to believe that because he was a cop, a Federal Agent
, he would be safe to dig and pester all he liked. Now, he had to worry about Faith, Dr. Saunders, who may or may not be Fred, Echo’s new handler who was looking to be an okay sort of guy, and trying to remember how to get into contact with the people he needed to back him up plus
one man whose passion for the truth, vengeance, and vindication burned brighter every time he was mocked and thwarted.
He narrowed his eyes as Ballard’s neighbor awkwardly tried to talk to him. She was familiar and therefore a problem. A little thankful that Brinks, in all his egotistical glory, had made Alpha technically savvy, possibly more so than Brinks himself, he scanned Neighbor Lady’s face off of the video feed and started running it through the Dollhouse database that he’d hacked into at first opportunity, while digging through the tenant list of Ballard’s building. To a man whose brains were scrambled, a familiar face was suspect, after all. He’d already pinpointed one Active roaming around Ballard, Victor.
He left the program to sort through faces and moved on to trying to hack into Fred’s computer that he’d stolen from the Hyperion. Brinks might be good, but Fred was better and getting through her passwords and encryptions was turning out to be trying. Fortunately, one of Alpha’s imprints had been a sniper, so he knew patience. Connor was a man of action. He needed that temperance.
Finally, though, he was in and it was everything he needed because right there was Angel Investigation’s contact list and Willow Rosenberg was a name Connor recognized. She was the redhead. He added her to his search, wondering what the ‘W’ beside her name stood for.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling tired. He’d been testing Echo, trying to see how much she remembered, and so far, even if Echo wasn’t remembering anything, Faith’s instincts were still ticking right along. Between the testing, though, and digging up dirt on the Dollhouse employees and watching over Ballard’s eager, driven hide, and
trying to hack into Fred’s computer, Connor was tired. Connor, the one who was made of demons and built to destroy things, was weary.
His computer dinged behind him and he twisted to see that Ballard’s neighbor was indeed part of the Dollhouse’s database. November. An Active that usually handled softer activations instead of the bloody ones. His throat tightened. Cannon fodder, every aspect of him agreed. Apparently the Dollhouse really didn’t give a shit about their Actives, to set one so close in such a vulnerable state next to such a questionably unstable man.