2. Birthday
Wednesday, November 14th, 2007, West Hollywood, 0650 hours local
John woke up again in the morning and as soon as he got out of the bed he heard two knocks on the door.
"Come in."
Cameron closed the door behind her and John saw a box in her hand.
"Hey, Cameron, whats up?"
"Last night I studied traditions and cultural habits related to birthdays. I understand now that birthday presents like a flak west or this one are not the most appropriate ones, but it will be useful for you, nevertheless."
"Wow, did you really buy me a birthday present?"
"Actually I didn't buy it. I found it in the trunk of the Mercedes. Probably belonged to Sarkissian's thug. Or he might have stolen it somewhere. But open up the box."
John looked at the content of the box and felt dazed.
"The Company gun," he whispered.
"What do you mean Company gun?" Cameron tilted her head as usual when she didn't understand something. "This is a Strayer Voight Infinity chambered in .45 ACP with 14 rounds. One of the most precise and valuable handguns out there. The compensator, with these vents here, reduces the recoil and helps you keeping the gun on the target when you need to fire multiple shots quickly. That's because the gases are directed upward so they will exert a downward force counteracting the muzzle rise.
Later, I'm going to prepare some armor piercing ammo for the gun so you will be able to stop Cromartie if you hit his chip. Might not kill him with it, but stop for a while."
"Thank you so much! I ... I don't know what to say, I'm surprised!" He hesitated to ask the important question. "Is it only my safety?"
"What do you mean, John?"
"Do you give me the present only because of my safety, or is there any other reason as well?"
"I wanted you to have a happy day," Cameron said in a low voice. "It is important for me that you are happy."
"But why? It is not your mission."
"I... I don't know why," Cameron said meekly. She looked up straight in John's eyes. "You are the only purpose of my existence."
John's heart sank for a moment and with a sudden movement he pulled Cameron into a tight embrace. "And you are very important for me," he whispered. Cameron hugged him back awkwardly but broke from the embrace a moment later.
"No, John!" she said with an unusual passion in her voice. "I cannot be important. You are important, only you!" she continued. "If you develop feelings for me that could be dangerous. If I'm damaged beyond repair, for example."
"I wouldn't let you down, Cameron!"
"That's what I'm talking about... I know about Uncle Bob. Future You told me everything... Watching him get destroyed was one of the hardest things you had ever done. But you did the right thing! And you might have to do that again in the future if I go down. I don't want to be a liability!"
"I can't let that happen," she whispered and John could swear that her eyes went watery. "Happy birthday," she said in a trembling voice then turned around and rushed out of the room.
John fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "What the hell was that?" he thought. "Those were clearly emotions." He was pretty certain, those were genuine, as he found no logical reason why she would fake those. "Damn, I think I'm in love! Just as if my life was not fucked up enough, already." He closed his eyes in desperation.
"John!" he heard his mother shouting. "Time for breakfast!"
"Coming!" he shouted back.
He looked down at the Infinity again, observed its excellent build quality, measured its weight in his hand, just as he did in his dream. It was an M1911 style gun with a six-inch barrel and open hammer. The holes of the compensator made its look quite uncommon. The Infinity seemed a very new handgun, maybe had never been fired before. It was a piece of artwork. The gun was unloaded and the spare magazine in the box was empty too. He was unaccustomed to the .45 ACP caliber, though, as he had been trained to use 9x19 mm handguns most of the time. "I'm gonna need some .45 ammo and some practice with it, but it's worth it," he thought.
With a sigh he closed the gun back in the box, quickly dressed up fully and went to the kitchen.
"You two are not going to school today," Sarah said firmly. "I already called them and told that you had gotten the flu."
John raised his eyebrow questioningly. "She might not have forgotten my birthday," he thought.
"You need to work on the hard drive we acquired yesterday," she said. "I strongly hope you'll find something which will lead us to the Turk."
John frowned and felt disappointed again. With a sulking face, he was nibbling the pancake his mother had prepared. The infamous pancakes which were still good, at least by Sarah's standard. He stole a glance at Cameron, who stood like a statue in front of the window. "The only one," he thought, "who didn't forget my birthday". He tried to imagine how a birthday cake, prepared by his mother, would look like, or smell like or taste like. He shivered a bit, and suddenly found the pancake a bit more tasteful.
"What did you do with the corpse and the Mercedes?" Sarah asked Cameron.
"Yet another excellent topic for breakfast," John thought.
"I burned the corpse with thermite," Cameron answered.
"To burn humans or terminators... you seem to prefer kinda standardization for such processes," Sarah said sarcastically.
Cameron left that uncommented. "I cleaned the car thoroughly and left it in a public place. Police won't check it for at least 30 days."
A few minutes later John was working busily on his computer while his mother stood behind him eagerly watching him. After a few moments, she gently stroke his neck.
"Mom!"
"Sorry."
"Look, he double-encrypted the hard drive. I've unlocked a lot of it but there's still a lot left to go through."
"How much?"
"About a thousand useful files, each takes about five minutes to decrypt... and I'm on number 37. You do the math," he said dryly, trying to hide his resentfulness because of his forgotten birthday.
Sarah noticed of course that he was sulking, suppressed a smile and gently stroke his back this time. "Let me know when you have something."
John just briefly nodded.
She walked outside, exchanged a look with Derek who stood at the door waiting for the occasion being alone with John.
When Sarah left Derek walked into John's bedroom.
"How're you holding up?"
"I'm all right," he said his fingers running on the keyboard with a pace that impressed Derek.
Derek looked outside the window contemplating a bit how to bring up his idea.
"So it's your birthday," he said finally.
"How... how'd you know?"
"You kidding? I celebrated your 40th with you."
John smiled releasing some of his tension. "How was that?"
Derek smiled too. "You got drunk as a skunk."
They both laughed.
"Come on," Derek said, "I'll buy you a beer."
"I'm 16."
"All right, I'll buy you an ice cream cone... Come on, it's your birthday! When there are things to celebrate, they should be celebrated... Let's go."
John stood up, saved his log file with a hotkey combination and they left the room.
Instead of cones, they bought ice lollies and they kept them in their hands, occasionally licking, while they were walking through the park. It was a fairly cold morning, quite humid, but the air was unusually clear. John felt it very refreshing, taking deep breaths, one after another.
"Your mom has never killed anyone, has she? "Derek asked.
John just briefly shook his head.
"You know, she's got murder in her eyes all the time, but her heart's pure." Derek continued. "It's a good thing, you know. Keep a ... keep a pure heart.
They sat on a bench. John licked his ice cream, but Derek didn't care for his own. He didn't even notice that its top started melting and dipping as he was watching two kids close to them, playing baseball.
"It's beautiful here, isn't it?"
John nodded and he noticed also the two boys who were obviously having fun with the game.
Derek's face went serious. "When you stay long enough you start fooling yourself into thinking that this is ... how it's always gonna be... Then you remember what this place will look like when it's on fire. And you realize you'll do whatever it takes to keep from watching it burn again."
John agreed. This was what he felt all the time. In fact, that was the guideline for how he was raised. Even though he'd seen the world on fire only in his nightmares.
The older boy hit the ball and it rolled almost exactly to John. John picked it up and gave it back to the small boy. For a moment their eyes met and that was a very strange moment for John. As if he had some hidden connection with that little guy.
Derek just smirked watching the whole scene. The young boy smiled and ran back to continue playing. John raised to sit down to the bench, but suddenly the older boy turned around and John saw the name on his jersey.
REESE.
And then he understood everything. He quickly turned towards Derek who smiled.
"Is that ... you?"
"And the younger one. Is that-?"
"Kyle," Derek said. "Throws pretty good for a 5-year old, huh?"
John turned back looking at the boys. He was overwhelmed by his feelings.
"Your father always had a nice arm."
John turned back with a skeptical expression on his face.
"How do you know?"
"Every time I look at you, I see him," Derek answered. "Besides, your mom is his type," he smiled. "Happy birthday."
That was too much for John to take in. Seeing his father as a cute innocent 5-year old... The hope that they could save him if they prevent Judgement Day... John couldn't help but start crying silently, tears were running down his face, while their ice creams were dripping heavily, forming a not very delicious mass each.
"I reacted just as you are when I saw them first," Derek said. "And I cried a second time when I saw my parents again."
"Your parents... my grandparents. It'd be so nice to meet them. But I'm afraid they would just freak out and call the police when I'd greet them as 'Hi, I'm your grandson, son of your 5-year old son.' So that won't happen."
"Yeah, that's why I haven't contacted them," Derek agreed. "It breaks my heart but I can only watch them sometimes from a distance."
"Do you come here often?" John asked.
"Not as often as I'd like to," Derek answered bitterly. "I don't want to raise their suspicion. Besides, that would be very weird to talk to my younger self." He then changed the subject. "About what happened in the alley..."
John interrupted him smiling. "It's okay. I realized that you're an excellent gunfighter."
"For a close range, I'd never miss. Besides, my Beretta is pretty accurate. I practice quite often and check my guns regularly."
"Cameron said that you were one of my best soldiers in the future," John said.
"Did she? That's very kind of her," Derek replied with slight sarcasm and a forced smile.
John sighed. "I'd better go. I might come with you next time as well. But now I need to get back to work to decrypt the hard drive."
"No problem," Derek said. "I'd rather stay here for a few minutes, though."
Derek watched John for a while as he was leaving the park. "He's a good kid," he thought. He felt much better to tell John the truth that he knew for a while that John was his nephew. He liked this young John much better than Future John. Not only because the young one was his blood relative, but he found him more caring, somewhat more vulnerable... more human. Sometimes he showed the signs of the talent of General Connor, though. The way he performed the operation against the ARTIE system... That brilliant plan and its efficiency were way too familiar for Derek. So was the fact that he used Skynet's creations against Skynet. "If only he wasn't attracted to the metal," he thought but stopped suddenly with his thoughts. What if John's right about the cyborg. What if he, Derek, is the one who can't see clearly because of his hatred towards the terminators. What if Cameron (he still couldn't accept entirely that those things have human names) is more than just a piece of metal covered by flesh. Maybe there was more to her than met the eye. More than a highly advanced computer disguising herself as a pretty girl. He reluctantly remembered that she saved his life when she killed the rogue 888 in their common future. It was worrying however what she said to him afterward.
"Sometimes they go bad. No one knows why."
Although he had insinuated it a few times, he didn't think seriously that she had a secret agenda. Besides, what he had seen a few days ago, was one of the weirdest things he had ever seen. Metal dancing ballet. Classical ballet. Not because it is her mission, but just for her own entertainment. That was something new and he found no logical reason behind that.
"But even she can go bad, in principle", he thought, "and God save us when it happens."
His thoughts turned back towards General Connor. He recalled from his memories the 40th birthday of him. So far Connor had been friendly with him but clearly had behaved like a military commander, not like a friend. He celebrated with a few other soldiers. Kyle was there, as well as Perry, colonel at that time, not general yet. Perry secretly gave permission to a small group of soldiers to go to the Wastelands in order to acquire as much alcohol as possible. The birthday party itself went pretty well. Not only Connor, but most of the participants got very drunk indeed, including Derek. Despite the strong headache the following day, he preserved good memories of that because it was the first time he could see the more human, more vulnerable, yet more likable side of General Connor.
As he was lost in his thoughts he didn't pay too much attention to how his younger self played with Kyle. Finally, they stopped playing, were heading home for some reason. With a sigh, Derek stood up, threw the remainder of his ice cream into the trash bin and left the park.
John had been busy working on the computer. He noticed that the work went much more seamless than before the excursion in the park, but he didn't attribute too much importance to that. If he did, however, he could have realized that the computer did just work as his extended arm and mind. The encoding went a lot faster, and the computer in a somewhat mystic way almost followed his thoughts.
He only noticed the presence of his mother when she was standing right in front of him.
"Have you seen Derek?" she asked.
"No. He's ... uh ... still in the park, I think.
"What were you two doing?"
John was unprepared for this question. He didn't know how his mother would react to hear that they'd gone to see the love of her life in a 5-year old form. "Nothing. Uh, just went to get an ice cream."
He sensed that his mother didn't quite believed him and felt better to change the subject quickly. "Here. Check these out." He gave some printed pages to her. "Looks like you weren't the only one looking for the Turk."
Sarah checked the photos with a worrying look. "Who is this?"
"I'm not sure. But he came in after Dmitri and before you."
"Enough time for Sarkissian to sell him the Turk," she said thoughtfully.
"It's not much to go on, but it is something," he said sitting back to the computer.
Sarah stepped closer and sat down on his bed. "Why don't you take a break?"
"No, it's all right. I can keep going."
She inhaled deeply and gave him a tiny smile. "How are we supposed to celebrate your birthday if you're in front of a computer?"
John looked at her with a sudden smile on his face.
"You actually thought I forgot your birthday?" she asked.
John smirked but shook his head. He suddenly felt quite stupid for his previous sulking. Yet, quite relieved also. "We have much more important things to think about than my stupid birthday."
"Your birthday is important," she pointed out.
"No. It's... it's not important. Finding the Turk, stopping Skynet, Judgment Day, that's important. That's... that's our life."
"It's our mission," she corrected. "This is our life. If we stop caring about that, then we're lost."
He looked down for a second, seemingly scrutinizing his keyboard. "When you put it like that," he smiled.
"I sent Cameron to get a cake."
John laughed out loud at the idea that his badass protector would go into a candy store to scrutinize the cakes sorting them by harmful additives and pick the one which was the least unhealthy for John.
"What do you want for dinner?" she asked.
"Well not to insult your cooking skills or anything, but do you mind if we went out?"
Sarah opened her mouth in a mock indignation, but then just smiled. "We can do that."
John smirked and turned back to his computer. "All right, let me... let me shut this down."
But his smile disappeared as he saw a familiar face on the screen.
Sarah jumped up seeing his serious facial expression. "What? What's the matter?"
"The guy that Derek killed in the alley..."
"Sarkissian?"
"I don't think that was Sarkissian."
They both felt shocked staring at the enlarged picture, clearly recognizing the guy in the coffee shop. John looked at his mother who was equally bewildered. Behind the enlarged picture there was a copy of two passport pages.
SARKISSIAN, MARGOS. Born: JANUARY 22, 1973, YEREVAN, ARMENIA
And then, suddenly a huge explosion shook the window.
Author's note: Yes, I know, in the original storyline, it was the 30th birthday of Future John. But seriously. That should have been in 2014, three years after Judgement Day. Derek was 18 years old back then. Is it reasonable to assume that John Connor got drunk with an underage kid? :) Besides, according to the TSCC plot, and the original Terminator plot (albeit not the T3 and T4 plots), John mainly organized the resistance after escaping from Century Work Camp.
