The woman in front of him looks like Jane, mostly. Her hair's slightly unkempt from raking her hands through it and a tattoo of a winged skull on her collarbone is visible above a very un-Jane-like preppy pink sweater. Her eyes are dark, liner smudged around them. "You're Connor? Get in, let's talk."

And by talk she means a mixture of intimidate with an undercurrent of beg for help, because Hammerhead is not used to asking people for favors. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Jane said you're basically Robocop. That right?"