Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.

Chapter Two

Attack at TechNoir

May 13th, Sarah and Ginger's Apartment

Sarah hummed softly to herself as she dried her wet hair. Unlike most women nowadays, she hadn't bothered with a perm. It was a ridiculous waste of money, in her opinion. And no doubt the fashion would pass quickly enough. All fashions did. Sarah would rather save her money or spend it on things that she genuinely needed than waste it on a hairstyle. She knew how do to her make-up and such, but fashion had never been a priority for her. She was, above all, practical.

Ginger, dressed in a short, silky purple dressing gown with her headphones on as per usual, bumped into her, and they muttered quick apologies to each other. Hair dried, Sarah unplugged the hairdryer and started brushing her hair into a simple chignon, before putting on a small amount of make-up.

Ginger grinned and wrapped an arm around her when she finished. "Better than mortal man deserves!" the enthusiastic young woman declared.

Sarah chuckled and squeezed her. In Sarah's opinion, she wasn't particularly beautiful, but she garnered her fair share of looks and date requests. Currently she was dressed according to the TechNoir dress code for employees in a pair of low-slung black skinny jeans with a silver belt, low-heeled black pumps, a navy top that clung to her, showing off her athletically-toned body, and she would finish the outfit off with her well-worn black leather jacket. A pair of silver hoops pierced her ears, matching the silver bracelet that had once been her mother's on her wrist.

"Have you seen Pugsley?" she asked as they headed into the living room area of their shared apartment and she noticed the empty tank. Ginger shook her head, adjusting an earring.

"No, sorry. Did you check the messages?"

"No, I thought that you did," Sarah answered, glancing under the couch in search of her pet iguana.

Ginger didn't reply, instead pressing the button on the answering machine to listen to the messages waiting for them.

"Hey Ginger, Amy here," the first one started. "I need you to cover my class on Thursday, please? Mike's parents are coming for a visit, and they're taking the two of us out for dinner. Thanks, I promise that I'll make it up to you."

"Hi, Sarah, Leo from the YMCA," the second played a moment later, just as Sarah found Pugsley. "Just calling to remind you that the under-tens kickboxing tournament is tomorrow and you agreed to chaperone. Remember that you need to be here at twelve, because the tournament begins at two and we need to set up. Also,don't forget that you agreed to buy some crisps on the way. Alright, see you then. Thanks again."

"Kickboxing," Ginger grimaced. "I dunno how you can enjoy spending so much time doing different types of fighting. This violent streak of yours doesn't say good things, hun.."

Sarah smirked at her friend as she closed Pugsley's tank firmly. "Ah, but isn't it better that I take it out on punching bags and idiots than people I like such as yourself and Matt?"

"Fair enough," Ginger laughed. "Have a good night at work."

"Enjoy your evening with Matt," Sarah replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading out the door. She made her way to the parking lot and got on her bike, pausing to look around with a slight frown.

She felt as if someone was watching her, but she couldn't see anybody. Shaking her head, she dismissed the feeling and kicked her bike into gear.

She didn't notice the car that peeled out of its' space a moment after her, tailing her closely.


Kyle followed her discreetly. He was still debating how to approach her, and he'd come to the conclusion that, despite the risk, he needed to wait until the Terminator approached her. He needed to know what his enemy looked like, and that was the only way.

Sarah abruptly pulled over, and he copied her. Thankfully, she didn't notice him, distracted by crouching down to check her front tyre, which seemed to have gotten a flat. He carefully climbed out and ducked behind a nearby corner, sticking his head out slightly to watch as Sarah grimaced, straightening and kicking the bike irritably.

"Stupid thing," she grumbled, before adjusting her bag and securing the motorbike. Then she began walking, Kyle still trailing after her.

Several times she glanced over her shoulder with a wary frown, and Kyle did his best to appear to simply be going in the same direction as her. She quickened her step, eventually ducking into a building with a glowing red sign above the doorway.

Kyle walked past, then doubled back and slipped inside.

"Four dollars for entrance," a woman with spiky blonde hair drawled at him, looking bored.

Kyle grimaced and pulled out the money he'd taken from the gun shop he'd robbed. He pulled out a bill, uncertain and indifferent to whether or not it was enough, passed it to her, and hurried past before she could delay him further.

Inside was a large, open room with smoky air. There was a large space filled with people dancing, music booming out loudly. Around the sides of the room were several small tables and chairs, and a long bar was at the far side. Sarah was behind it, no longer wearing her jacket and handing a glass of something to a man.

Kyle found a suitable spot to keep a discreet watch on her and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and feeling his stolen shotgun pressed against his chest.

The Terminator would attack soon, Kyle was sure. And he would be ready for it when it did.


Sarah lost herself in the familiar rhythm of preparing and serving drinks and snacks, bobbing her head in time to the beat of the music. The time passed quickly, as the customers and drinks blurred into one, which was just how Sarah liked her shifts to go.

She used her break to dial her apartment phone, huffing in resigned amusement when she only got the voicemail. "Hey, Ginger kiddo, it's Sarah," she said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "I'm just on break now. My front tyre got a piece of glass in it, and it's gone flat. Can you and Matt come and pick me up when my shift ends at six? I'm really sorry about it, I promise that I'll pay you back. Love you kiddo. See you in the morning."

That done, Sarah replaced the phone and turned to head back to the bar. She paused, feeling like someone was watching her intently, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. She had gotten the same feeling several times that day, but hadn't seen anybody when she'd checked.

This time, however, she did. Leaning against the far wall, wearing an intimidating scowl that was making everyone steer clear of him, was a man with blonde hair, wearing a dark green trench coat. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his gaze was fixed on her.

Sarah shivered, feeling prickles going up her spine. Her father had always taught her to trust her instincts, and right now they were screaming at her that that guy was dangerous. She didn't need the menacing scar on his face to tell her that. The intent way he was looking at her made her feel nervous.

She had never considered herself to be particularly pretty, especially when compared to Ginger who could probably be a model if she hadn't decided to go for a career in music, but Sarah had garnered her fair share of admiring looks and phone numbers over the years. And she felt no shame in flirting to get extra tips, or to get out of trouble. If you had a resource, there was no point in wasting it, after all.

But the guy wasn't looking at her like he thought she was hot. Sarah wasn't sure what he saw when he looked at her, but she wanted his gaze off her. It was too intense, making the urge to flee flare in her stronger than it had ever been before. Her stress increased when she realized that she had seen him before, at least twice that day, including in her apartment parking lot. Was he following her?

Swallowing, Sarah hurried to the backroom and retrieved her bag before going back to the bar, stowing it underneath. That way, if the guy hadn't left and was still watching her, she could leave quickly as soon as her shift ended. Never mind waiting for Ginger and Matt. Sarah needed to escape that deep gaze, which was still fixed on her.

Unlike the first half of her shift, the second half seemed to drag on forever. Sarah was incredibly aware of the man watching her, and he didn't bother to look away whenever she glanced at him. She debated calling Roger, the bouncer, over, but dismissed it. From his menacing air, Sarah guessed that he was probably a gang member. He had that hard air around him.

She wouldn't be surprised if he had a gun, and she didn't want to risk a shootout in the middle of the crowded nightclub. Better to simply wait until her shift was over and hurry home.

She was so distracted by worrying over the guy watching her that she didn't notice the small commotion at the entrance as a large man in his late thirties, tall and powerfully built, shoved his way inside without paying, moving with graceful precision. He turned and knocked Roger to the floor with a single punch, making Stacey, who collected the entrance fees, scramble towards the phone with wide eyes.

Meanwhile, the man had made his way straight to the bar, where Sarah was mixing another drink, her brow wrinkled with stress.

"Sarah Connor?" he asked, coming up to the bar and reaching into his coat.

She turned, responding automatically to the sound of her name. She frowned at unfamiliar man. Something about frightened her even more than the other guy.

It was his eyes, she decided. They were intense, blue and depthless. And utterly emotionless. Nobody could completely hide their emotions. There was always something, in their expressions or body language or tone of voice, that gave something away.

But not this man. There was nothing in him to show that he felt anything at all. It was disturbing.

"Yes?" she said warily, her already on-edge instincts shrieking at her to run.

Her heart seemed to stop as he pulled a gun out of his grey jacket and pointed it straight at her head. It wasn't her first time, people had tried to mug her twice and she'd been caught in gang fights a few times. LA was not a particularly safe place for a young woman to live, especially her area. But she had never expected someone to try and shoot her specifically, let alone in a room full of people.

Still, survival instinct kicked in. Even as the man pulled the trigger Sarah was throwing herself onto the floor, flinging up her arms to shield her head from the glass that shattered when the bullet meant for her went through it.

More gunshots sounded, but Sarah recognized them as coming from a shotgun rather than her attacker's handgun. She could hear people screaming and stampeding from the entrance, but she didn't dare try to leave the bar. She'd never make it to the door without being shot.

Still, she was desperate to understand what was happening and why her attacker hadn't tried to shoot her again, so she cautiously poked her head up enough to see over the bar top.

The room was almost empty, save for herself, a few terrified customers trying to escape without being hit and two men. One of them was, obviously, the guy who had tried to kill her. The other was, shockingly, the guy who'd been watching her. He was pumping a shotgun, a determined expression on his face as he advanced towards his opponent.

But the gun fight wasn't what horrified and terrified the young woman. She had seen more than few, and with the shock fading was able to think clearer. What did terrify her, however, was the fact that, despite each of the guy with the shotgun hitting her attacker in the chest, the guy stayed upright. He didn't even seem to be in pain, although Sarah could actually see the bullet holes in him.

Both men were focused on each other, ignoring Sarah crouching behind the bar. She swiftly crawled out and scrambled towards the door, staying on her hands and knees to avoid being hit. Unfortunately, another woman running to escape got caught by a riocheting bullet, and her body fell on top of Sarah, pinning her place. She was struggling to get out from underneath the body when the guy trying to kill her spotted her.

Ignoring the other guy, who was frantically reloading his shotgun, her attacker stalked towards her, raising his gun again. Knowing there was no way out for her, Sarah stopped struggling and defiantly lifted her chin to glower at him.

Then suddenly he staggered, as more shotgun bangs cut through the chaos of the room. Her would-be murderer staggered as a series of bullets sent him crashing backwards out the floor-length glass window to lie on the street. Sarah had no chance to take a breath, however, as the blonde guy grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her to her feet.

"Come with me if you want to live!" he ordered.

He wasn't really giving her the option to refuse, however, as he began dragging her towards the back exit.

Sarah automatically began struggling to escape his grip, but then she spotted the other guy again.

Despite having multiple gunshot wounds, he was struggling back to his feet, ignoring the bloodstain growing on his shirt.

Sarah's blue-green eyes went wide, and she stopped struggling, instead scrambling to keep up with the man's long strides. Gun-wielding stalker or not, Sarah would rather be with the lunatic who'd saved her than the one who'd tried to kill her.