The streets were relatively empty, it was 9pm but this was not an area frequented at night, quiet, residential, respectable. The few people who passed the unremarkable figure gazing up at one of the tower blocks barely glanced his way. They were all too familiar with droids, they worked with them and under them, some even afforded their own domestic version. They hurried on their way, he lingered. His attention lay not on the building but on the scene within flat 247.
He observed the occupants, all the while gathering information, cross-referencing matching, adjusting. He could see their expressions as clearly as if he were in the room but expressions did not register. In fact they hindered identification, slowing the process. Later models would evolve to eliminate such hesitations but he had been programmed. Satisfied that he had identified his target he walked towards the communal entrance.
In an adjacent flat a man scribbled his latest report long hand. He had long ago ceased to commit any of his thoughts to a computer. This piece was not going to earn him any money, it's reading, like its writing, would merely endanger, still he felt compelled to share what he knew. He folded the paper, stuffed it in his pocket & left, passing a droid on his way to the lift. He looked at it nervously, knowing what he did, he had reason, but the droid passed him pausing at his neighbours door. Stepping into the lift he missed seeing the droid knock politely and wait. His neighbour's wife rose with a quizzical look at her husband- at this hour, a visitor and one who had not used the intercom system. Still she opened the door.
The droid could have eliminated his target without ever entering the building but these were the early days of development, when stealth and discretion were required. The very existence of such drones was still denied and executions needed a plausible human explanation. Quietly, efficiently, using just the optimum force he fulfilled his mission, did a last scan for life forms, finding none he left closing the door behind him.
Of course there was going to be collateral damage in the early days of development but letting that journalist slip past them set back the project by years, and the loss of a key member of the assassin droid design group in that way, inexcusable! No one wanted to hear excuses about programming errors none were heard.