The switchblade clatters to the floor, his targeting reticle following it to the pavement. Next comes a ticket and a wallet that slaps down with the sound of old leather. With the way Andy fumbles it out of his pocket, Alex figures it's not likely his - he doesn't pull it out like he's used to doing it day in and day out. There is the history of theft, after all. It's likely he pickpocketed it.

He'll have to return it to its owner after this.

Alex steps forward with the gun still trained on the boy's chest. It's set for tasering because he's not programmed to consider complete pacification of minors unless necessary. Andy is being cooperative, therefore he doesn't get shot. The visor stares at Andy and the way his eyes dart despite himself, the little beads of sweat on his forehead that would be normally too small to see at this range without magnification. Nervousness and fear. Moving slow enough to telegraph he doesn't want to be pacified.

So far, so good.

With Andy's troubled history, it's probable he is armed with more than a switchblade. He'll likely find something on a pat-down. "Hands on your head." It's only a matter of time before he finds that revolver.