Weapon of Choice

Authors Note:

Rated T , Drama/Mystery
Complete one-shot. TSCC universe, in the future, after Kyle sent back, before Derek sent back.
Features mainly Derek/John

Chapter 1 : Martyrs

"Think of it as an honour. The greatest honour that any soldier can be given." Martin Bedell said. His voice breaking the painful silence that had fallen when John Connor had given his orders to Derek Reese and James Daus.
This was the first time that Derek had received orders directly from Connor. Before now he had always been a step removed down the chain of command. When he had been called to see Connor and Bedell he had been excited. Derek had confidence in his own abilities, he knew that he was a good soldier, knew that he could be a leader of men. Up until now he had been kept in the background, kept away from the danger areas. He had thought that it was because Connor was somehow guilty over the death of Kyle, who had disappeared several weeks previously, and was rarely talked about. Derek had walked into the room with eager anticipation. Only to be met by this.

He looked around the room again, this was not his first time in there, but it was the first time that he had received a mission briefing there. It was commonly used for planning and preparing the squads for special missions. It held four bunk beds next to the walls, luxury compared to some of the crowded corridors he had been living in. At the far end were equipment lockers, a table and two chairs. In front of the table, on the floor, was a narrow metal cone. About a metre long, painted in a dull khaki. A rucksack had been prepared, and was leaning against one of the lockers. Another had been adapted with a harness, apparently to carry the cone. On the table were some simple provisions, and two small bottles of beer. Luxury indeed. They were being spoiled, as was only right.

Derek turned to look at John Connor, who had been staring at him.

Connor lowered his eyes. Then looked up at Derek. "There are so few people I can trust with a mission of such importance. We can only send two people, any more would attract too much attention. We have sent a party of two before to recon the route. So we know you can get through." His gaze was steady, and Derek could sense the self belief. The conviction that Connor had, that what he decided, was correct. He continued, "The two of you can carry out this mission. You can complete it successfully. Of that I am certain."

James was still too stunned to speak, but Derek stirred and said, "With all due respect. Sir. Were you this certain when you sent Kyle out?"

"No." Connor was unaffected by the implied criticism. "I am far more certain of this." He moved to the far end of the room. "Look here."

He bent over the metal cone. "Listen and watch carefully. Insert the key. Turn a quarter turn clockwise. That arms a one hour timer. It cannot be revoked. If you need to, you can make it go off with a five second timer. Just pull this tab out, after you've turned the key." His fingers touched the controls as he explained. "This switch controls the yield. At the moment it is set for primary only. Marked with a single 'I'. If you turn it to the double 'I', then the whole package will be utilised. Only do this if you are able to get very deep into the complex." He stood up and returned to Derek. "Here. Take the key." The key was on a chain. He reached up and placed it around Derek's neck.

Bedell spoke up again. "It weighs about forty kilos. We were going to send a metal in with you to carry it, but it would be detected by their perimeter sensors. You should be able to carry it for the distance needed. We have had you training for this these last months." Bedell grinned at them, a false grin, strained. "And you thought we had you carrying the squads ammunition for the hell of it eh?"

The weeks of training that Derek had completed made sense now. He knew the plans for the complex so well that his dreams had been filled with repetitions of his training, Running through corridors. Playing 3D games, in simulations of the labyrinth of interconnections. They had questioned what they were learning. What place it was. Now they knew. Good men had died to retrieve the plans. So many sacrifices for a final assault on the central nexus of Skynet.

Connor clasped his hands behind his back. "We will mount a diversionary attack on the Coltan depot, led by Martin. A light assault, but it will draw forces away. Our main force, led by me, will then attack the main triple eight construction factory. This will draw much of their remaining forces away, opening up enough holes in the defences to allow you to infiltrate the main Skynet facility." His voice was clear and precise, his explanation sounded reasonable, so full of promise and hope. "If you carry this off, Skynet will be destroyed. It is a risky strategy, but so many lives will be saved if we pull this off."

Bedell spoke up again, "We will be taking heavy casualties on the diversionary raids. This has to work. There will be no going back if things go wrong. If the situation looks desperate, just explode the damn thing if you get far enough in."

"We only have this one." Connor continued. "We will get no other chance. The main groups will be leaving shortly, you can leave at 05:00. I apologise for the short notice, we know that we have a spy in the camp. We cannot take a risk of the information leaking out. Tell no one of this, for now it is between us four only. I suggest the two of you write any last notes or messages to loved ones that you have to make. But, I do understand if there are people you need to speak to. For all our sakes, tell them nothing. It may be best for you to get an early night." He picked up the squat green bottles from the table. "I've been saving these. Only one each, we don't want you to get a hangover tomorrow." He smiled as he handed them over, "Good luck. Our thoughts are with you." He held out his hand, grasped first Derek, then James. A strong handshake. Then he and Bedell left the room.

James sank onto one of the chairs. He had been quiet through all of the explanations that John and Martin had been giving, but now he spoke up. "So this is it."

Derek leaned on the edge of the table. He had had plans for the future, things he wanted to achieve. All now was dust. "I'd always dreamed of the day where we would beat Skynet. Crush it into pieces. Now we are so close to doing it, and I don't get to see the results." He breathed in deeply, held it for a second, then let it out in a deep sigh. "I used to talk with Kyle. We had plans for what we were going to do. He was going to get married and have kids. I wanted space, wide open plains, mountains, grass. Now we are at the end of the line. No more Reese brothers." He stared off into the distance, as if trying to claw back dim memories. "Our mother used to...." His voice trailed off.

"Have you got any children?" James asked.

"No." Derek replied. "Nor did Kyle. Who'd bring a kid up in this hell."

"I did." James said, his voice a whisper. He pulled a photo from his pocket, looked at it for a few seconds, then handed it to Derek. "I had a wife and son before the war started. Shelley and Joe. There was a raid on our bunker, in about the second year. They were taken to a work camp. I escaped the raid and came here. I always thought they would survive. That one day we would be reunited. And now...."

"You should write them a letter." Derek said. "If they do survive, they need to know about you. When the kid grows up, he needs to know about his father." He looked towards James. "Survival rate for a work camp is not good, but if we pull this off tomorrow, they'll be fine." He held James' eyes without blinking. "What we do tomorrow, we do for them. It's their best chance. Their only chance."

James leaned forward to take back the photo, looked at it, then returned it to his pocket. "I'd do anything for them. Anything. I think that's why I've been picked for this. John must have realised that I could do this. I love Shel and Joe to bits. I'd never let any harm come to them. With this chance I can pay Skynet back."

James pulled out a pocket notepad and pencil. The notepad was well used, only a few pages remained, the rest torn out, and the pencil was little more than a stub. He started writing, pausing every now and then to talk with Derek. "Do you think this plan can work?" He asked.

"Yes." Derek replied. "Say what you want about Connor, but his plans always seem to work out." He paused, then continued. "He is never afraid to...."

"Sacrifice people?" James finished for him. "Like he did with Kyle?"

Derek did not reply to this. James tore off the note, and replaced the pad in his pocket. "Too dark in here, I'd like to read this in a better light. I'll be right back." He got up and headed to the door.

"We should stick together." Derek said, and followed him out of the room.

They passed a soldier in the corridor, who lowered his eyes as they walked past. Once they had passed Derek thought he heard the soldier spit.

"Seems that word has got around." Derek said. "I thought it was supposed to be secret?"

"In here." James said. He led the two of them into a store room. He turned on the light, held his note up and read it carefully. Having finished he grimaced, and screwed the paper up. Then he thought better of it. Pulled a lighter from his pocket, an old Zippo. It sparked up first time, and James dropped the burning fragments of paper to the floor, then ground the black ash under his foot. "Another time." He said.

They passed more soldiers in the corridor. There was a lot of activity. The raids the next day were taking almost all the soldiers from the bunker.

Back in the room. They sat on one of the lower bunk beds. Derek took a beer, opened it and handed it to James, then took the other and opened it. They clinked bottles.

"Here's to the future, whatever it may hold." James said.

Derek sipped the beer, and looked down at the bottle in disappointment. "Even the beer tastes off. Bit flat too."

"We should rest, tomorrow will be a tough day." James said.

Derek looked up at him, "'I will sleep when I'm dead.' Do you know who said that?"

"No?" James looked surprised. "Should I?"

"It doesn't matter. It means that you should live whilst you're still alive. These past years, they always seemed like hell to me. I never realised till now that I was so alive. That I still had the chance to do so much, so many things. Maybe not to live my dreams, but still to do so much of what I wanted. 'Live each day like it is your last.' And now, I don't even get that chance. My last day will be crawling through the worst place on earth, with Armageddon strapped to my back."

James did not seem to be listening, and said, "I'm kind of tired. Wake me when it's time. OK?"

"Sure." Derek replied. He too felt tired, and lay down on the bunk. Setting the alarm in his watch.

Despite the stress, Derek fell asleep quickly. His dreams were more vivid than usual. He was on the back of a horse, surveying his troops before a battle, a cavalry sword in his hand. He was on a stage, addressing a room full of soldiers. Outlining his plans. The troops were wearing a very old style of uniform, they were applauding his every word. He was being led through the tunnels. There were wounded soldiers, fresh from battle. One of them grasped at his hand, was crying out, even though he appeared unhurt. He struck the soldier across the face with the back of his hand.

A thudding, clanging sound interrupted his dreams. A metal mug was being hammered onto the door of the room. Outside in the corridor there was the sound of shouting. Derek struggled to wake up. Not just shouting, more like cheering, even laughter. Then the door to the room was flung open. Martin and John walked into the room, switching on the light. Martin was wounded, a bloody bandage around one arm, which was in a sling from his neck. His face pale and drawn. There were soldiers behind them, some followed into the room. Derek's head was throbbing. Beer did not affect him like that, never used to. He looked at his watch, he had overslept the alarm, it was well past midday.