Chapter 7: A Leap of Faith

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Terminator. This work is not for profit.

A/N: I hope this chapter doesn't feel rushed. My schedule's gotten more demanding and I want to finish as much as I can before the season ends. And I'm hoping against hope that the character death I have planned doesn't happen in the show.


Over 200 channels and nothing to watch.

If he didn't find something soon he'd be forced to do something productive. On his day off.

What was the world coming to?

Not that he didn't have errands to run. At the very least he wanted to stop by the grocery store. It wasn't his turn to make dinner but he wasn't working today, Michelle was. It'd be a nice surprise.

Speaking of Michelle, she knew something was wrong. He hadn't told her about the last time he saw Sarah, Derek, and the other probably crazy guy with a gun. It was only by the sheer grace of god that she was dragged into a double shift that night.

But with the way he'd been acting since…distant, jumping every time someone rang the doorbell.

She was a smart woman and he was a bad liar.

The doorbell rang.

Charlie jumped.

He took a minute to mentally prepare himself for anything, scary robots, or more visitors from the future.

"Mr. Dixon. What's it been, eight years?"

Ghosts from the past.

Agent James Ellison hadn't really changed. He was a little older, maybe a little worse for wear.

Charlie moved aside. Ellison cleared the doorway when something caught his eye. "Hmm, I see you're a man of faith."

Tracking the other man's gaze, his eyes fell on the crucifix mounted on the wall.

"Oh no. My wife's a catholic. It's her mother's."

He wasn't a religious man. It wasn't because of his job. Being a paramedic had a tendency to leech a lot of that out of a person. It just wasn't part of his childhood.

Charlie sat down in the brown pilot's seat, his favorite chair, the one Michelle wanted to throw out. It was old, more than a little ratty, and familiar. It was perfect. He motioned for Ellison to have a seat. This wasn't like their last meeting. He wasn't in a police station being blindsided by a government agent holding all the cards.

This time he knew Sarah wasn't crazy.

The agent didn't appear to hear him. "Do you know the story of the rapture, Mr. Dixon?"

No he hadn't changed, same slightly condescending attitude.

Charlie didn't like where this was going. "Like I said, my wife."

Again, Ellison pretended not to hear him. "And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. And I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, 'come and see'. And I looked. And behold, a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was death. And hell followed with him. The book of revelation."

And he still had a taste for theatrics.

Eight years and Charlie still didn't like him. He didn't hate the guy, not like he used to. But after their past encounter, he wouldn't mind if he never saw the agent ever again.

Time to cut to the chase.

Charlie hid his irritation as best he could. "What is this?"

Ellison smiled, as confident as ever. "I've seen some things, Mr. Dixon. I've seen some things with my own eyes, and heard them with my own ears. I've beheld. And upon my beholding, I've come to the conclusion, while new to me, might be old hat for you."

Definitely more than a taste for theatrics, the guy had a problem.

So much for cutting to the chase.

He didn't bother to hide anything this time. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Sarah Connor's alive. And I think you know where she is."

Finally. For a man who claimed to have been converted, who wanted something, he was as demanding as ever. And a little stuck up. That probably wasn't the guy's fault. He'd made a career out of talking to criminals.

"You're crazy."

Ellison never missed a beat. "If Sarah is alive, and I believe she is, we are working in a realm where much, perhaps anything, is possible. Robots... soldiers from the future, Skynet."

That was one hell of a sales pitch. The confession, the complete reversal, took most of his anger.

But could he afford to trust the guy?

Charlie still didn't like him; didn't completely believe him.

Better to play this close to the vest.

"If... Sarah was alive, I'm sure she'd like to hear you say that."

If Sarah believed him. After a lifetime of being doubted, after actually being committed, Sarah didn't trust so easily.

Ellison wasn't buying it. "Come on, tell me what you know."

Damn. He really was a terrible liar.

Charlie had to admit he was tempted. Ellison was good at what he did. But they weren't old friends. They weren't even new friends. For all of the man's new found conviction… he had sounded just as sure of himself the last time they met, back when he'd said Sarah was insane.

The there was nothing left to say.

Ellison followed him back to the front door, a rueful smile on his face. He didn't look upset, not even disappointed. He was far too professional for that.

Crossing the threshold, the agent turned back, offering a business card. He was still smiling, though not nearly as self-assured. "If you change your mind."

Charlie took the card; flipped it over in his hands.

A world where anything is possible…

"So you believe her… the things she said?"

Ellison's expression was more patient. He was going for a lighter touch. "I might."

"What about John?"

"John?" He questioned?

"Yeah. What about the things Sarah said about him?"

Understanding dawned. Some of that earlier bravado returned. He smiled, nodded towards the crucifix.

"Mr. Dixon, I'll look to the Lord for salvation."


They'd been watching the place for almost a week.

It had taken a while to convince his mom to let him help. It was always a battle with her, whenever he wanted to get involved. He knew it was hard for her but it wasn't like he wanted to help storm the place.

The last time they'd gone after a company like this, it'd been Cyberdyne. John had to admit things had gotten a little messy.

He wasn't tagging along for this one.

"Here you go!"

Their waitress appeared. She was young, about 17, definitely in high school. And she had such a bubbly, perky, personality it was tiring just to watch. She refilled his cup of coffee and placed a bottle of water in front of Cameron. It took him a full five minutes to convince her to order it.

John took a sip. "Thanks. It's great."

It was a hell of a lot better than the freeze dried crap back at the motel.

The waitress flashed a mega-watt smile. "Tarrazu. Fresh pot." Resting one hand lightly on John's shoulder, she continued. "Can I get you anything else?"

She was very friendly. It must have helped with tips.

He smiled politely. "We're fine, thanks."

She smiled again and moved on to check the other tables.

John lowered his cup and noticed Cameron staring at the point of contact, his injured shoulder.

"My arm's fine."

It was getting better. Not that anyone believed him.

He went back to discreetly watching the building, not that anyone would suspect a teenager.

He never saw Cameron stare at the retreating figure of the waitress.

He checked his watch, 11:40 AM. He'd picked the café because it was so close to the Keystone building. Someone from the company was bound to show up.

Turned out he was right. A group of Keystone workers had occupied the nearest table.

"Anything useful?" He asked.

Cameron was sitting next to him. While she wasn't angled towards the table, John didn't doubt she heard everything.

"Very little. It appears they have always rotated weekend shifts."

Not good. That would be a problem. But what could they do? They had their orders, except they weren't really orders. Nothing was ever that cut and dry when it came to his future self.

Davis made him a little uncomfortable. He was a decent guy. It was just hard to get a read on him. Then again, John could say the same thing about Derek and Cameron.

John had to admit, it was nice to be able to ask him questions about Skynet technology. Davis had information and was willing to share it. He wasn't used to his future self being so forthcoming. Future John was more the of the shadowy-puppet-master type.

John didn't like to think about what that made him.

"They're conversation consists mostly of complaints regarding their company. One of the workers is missing her son's baseball game."

John checked the other table. Two of the workers were looking in their direction. One of them, a woman who was probably old enough to have a kid on a team, noticed John and smiled briefly. Then, having more important business at hand; went back to speaking with her coworkers.

A baseball game. Probably little league, maybe a school team.

These were regular people.

Even Miles Dyson had a family. He never planned to end the world.

The road to hell.

He'd thought about that a lot lately.

Derek had meant it along the lines of "shit happens." But Cameron would have wanted another explanation. The whole 'consequences over intentions' thing was the best he could do on the fly.

Miles didn't know his new processor would kick start the apocalypse. These employees didn't know their creations would be hunting down people in 4 years.

Could you blame them for the choices they made?

Could he blame Cameron for following her programming?

Not again.

He'd been down this road too many times. He knew where it ended. He wasn't going to wallow in self-pity anymore.

He needed this, a mission, a target to focus on.

"Destroying the facility is a viable option."

John turned to Cameron. He hoped it didn't come to that. "We need more information. We're flying blind."

"A good plan today is better than a perfect plan tomorrow."

That was unexpected. Old adages weren't really Cameron's style. But she had a point. If they kept waiting for the perfect opportunity they'd be waiting forever.

John wasn't a big fan of them either. Still…

"Cameron. There are no absolutes."

He watched her process the statement. Her facial expression didn't change, not like a human's would have. But her eyes shifted down and away, then the slightest tilt of her head. Her eyes snapped back to his.

"That statement is an absolute."

John grinned. "I know."

He figured that might confuse her. So he spent the next 10 minutes trying to explain; that the contradiction didn't eliminate the statement's merit, that her own adage couldn't be applied universally. In the end she seemed to struggle with it but thanked him for explaining all the same.

And then she disregarded it entirely.

"Skynet will use its unmanned drones on the major population centers, not just military facilities. Successfully carrying out this mission would be devastating to Skynet's operations."

John sighed. "Right."

He couldn't argue with that. That's why they were here.

It was always like this, with Cameron or Derek. It was impossible to win an argument, not when the future was involved. They'd been there. They'd seen it. How do you respond to that?

Cameron surprised him again, this time by grabbing his hand.

She was performing another scan.

"I'm okay." He assured her. He didn't need her hovering too.

"I know." Cameron said softly.

She didn't let go.

John hoped he wasn't blushing.

"I know you're disappointed with me. I'm sorry I lied to you."

She was full of surprises today.

John squeezed her hand gently, as if he could hurt her. "Cameron. I'm not disappointed with you."

He didn't know what to say. She'd never acted like this before.

And she wasn't done speaking. "Your behavior has changed. You speak to me less frequently. At times you are uncomfortable in my presence. Such behavior, while not detrimental to my mission, is unpleasant."

He was leaning forward, whispering. "Cameron, what are you saying?"

"I don't understand it completely." She squeezed his hand. "I want to be closer to you."

Now he was blushing. What was he supposed to say to that? He wished he could be that direct.

"Cameron, I-"

"Can I get you something to eat?"

Their waitress was back, with her ridiculously perky attitude and a pair of menus. John didn't know if her timing was a blessing or a curse. Well, he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He was hungry.

And he may have been slightly grateful for the interruption.

But it was mostly hunger.

Seriously.

A notepad and pencil all but materialized in the blonde's hands. "Our specials today-"

Cameron never took her eyes off John. "No. Leave."


The rest of the afternoon had been less… eventful. They stayed at the cafe for another hour then headed back, making one stop for food. Their waitress hadn't come back to their table.

A quick detour to the local grocery store and John had enough junk food to tide him over for a few days.

John slipped the key out of his pocket; knocked twice and then opened the door.

His mom was standing next to the coffee table, pointing what John suspected was fast becoming her favorite shotgun at the floor.

She never minced words. "Learn anything?"

"Not much."

John walked to what passed for a kitchen, setting down his bag. Cameron had refused to let him carry more than one.

Cameron would fill her in. Not that there was anything to fill in.

John fished a bag of cheese puffs, the crunchy kind, out of the grocery bag. He was starving. Damn waitress ran off like a killing machine was on her ass.

Cameron set the other grocery bags on the counter. Methodically unpacking and sorting each item while reciting what they'd learned. "The rotating weekend shifts are not temporary. They do not like their boss. They have too much paperwork. One of the workers thought John and I make a cute couple."

John ripped the bag in half.

"John." She was grinding her teeth again.

He didn't turn around. Hoping his mother's vision was based on movement; he stood perfectly still and tried to blend in with the wallpaper.


"Soccer? Really?", Derek asked for… well who cared?

Davis rolled his eyes. "For the fifth time. Yes."

Five times apparently.

He'd been giving the guy shit for that all night.

"What were your parents thinking?"

Hey, surveillance was boring.

What else was there to talk about?

"Soccer's getting more popular. It's big now. In a few years everyone's into it."

"Soccer and Judgment Day. I never saw the connection before."

"Don't let the machines take your sense of humor, Reese. Just don't."

He always had a gift for getting under people's skin.

Nothing about their target had changed. Nothing ever changed this late at night.

Now would have been a good time to strike. The employees were long gone. There were two security guards in the lobby, possibly another on patrol. It looked like the janitors worked during the weekdays. That would keep the body count low.

Derek yawned.

He needed something to pass the time. Davis wasn't the most talkative person he ever met, sure as hell not the most interesting. His story was the same as every other resistance fighter he'd ever met. But there was one thing he wanted to know.

"How'd you end up in Connor's camp?"

Presidio was way up north. No one got transferred easily. And tech junkies were scarce, couldn't afford to waste them. They also had a bad habit of getting themselves killed when in the field.

Davis cleared his throat. "My bunker… it went to hell."

"Wiped out?"

"Close enough. Fucking metal was everywhere. Moved me around after."

Derek knew that story too. Secrecy was all the resistance had. Once Skynet had a bead on you, it was over. It didn't need the infiltrators. It sent the meat wagons, the Ogres, and HKs.

"We weren't gonna operate out of Presidio for a while. I got tapped for this. I'm here 'cause I knew Colonel Bennet. And he knew Anderson."

Anderson. The researcher. While Davis might have been talking about the intel, something in his tone said otherwise.

"Sarah. John. They don't have the stomach for this."

Derek shifted to face him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I told you my mission. Destroy the research. Kill the man." Davis fidgeted with the 9mm in his hands. "For Anderson it doesn't end with the HKs. Two years from now he's in Washington."

In Washington… pushing the Skynet agenda.

There was only one way to deal with a threat like that.

And Derek couldn't truly disagree with him.

Sarah. John. They were stronger than Davis gave them credit for. But a job like this wasn't just a matter of strength. How far would you go to stop Judgment Day?

How many innocent lives were too many?

He knew Sarah, knew what she was capable of. She wasn't a killer. It was plain as day. Even when she was screaming at him, with murder in her eyes, he wasn't worried. Not that Sarah Connor wasn't dangerous. But she wanted her threats to sink in, to mean something to him.

No, she wasn't a killer.

The machine was the perfect example. No empathy. Eyes that looked but didn't see.

Derek knew Sarah had it in her. She could kill. And she would, if that's the way it had to be, only if it had to be. One more sacrifice for the sake of stopping Judgment Day.

John was a different story. He didn't have it in him to kill a man. This John still thought he could save everyone. He would at least want to try. It wasn't a bad thing, not in any normal situation.

This wasn't a normal situation. Their lives weren't normal.

"Blowing the place could change things. We don't know what'll happen."

Maybe he'd spent too much time with them.

"Might change everything." Davis agreed. "But he doesn't get the chance. Connor's orders."


A/N: I kind of reached with Cameron this chapter. But I figure terminators would take the direct approach whenever possible. Also, I didn't want to combine a plot that can be slow a times with both Cameron and John being completely oblivious to their own feelings.