Chapter 7

The battle for Cameron Phillips

Above all, we must realize that no arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is as formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women. It is a weapon our adversaries in today's world do not have.

-Ronald Regan

Cameron Phillips had experienced much in her time as a terminator and as John Connor's protector, both in the future, and here, in the past. But, this was among the more unsettling experiences she had been a part of.

The last thing she remembered was the flood of memories that came rushing like the waters from a burst dam. They were of everything, being built, Allison Young, her capture, her socialization with John. Her meeting Jeff and working on John's staff. Her halting friendships with both men, and with others. The whispers that threatened to hurt the resistance about John and Cameron. And how Cameron had taken a new assignment with to save John from what could have been a mutiny. How she had worked on the 11th Battalion staff with Jeff. And, how a moment of exquisite courage had been her proudest moment, and the catalyst of her downfall in the future. It wasn't just the usual memory file recall; it was a kalidascope of sound, sensation and color. It had been too much for Cameron's CPU to process, and she had shut down under the strain.

But she had come to; but the circumstances were strange. She found herself in a featureless plain..Mist prevented any sort of visibility for more than five meters. She tried to call up her FLIR, but it was then she realized. There was no HUD, her body felt strange..more fluid. Was this what it was to be human? But how? Her mind raced. Cameron didn't think like this. Her thinking was decision trees and likely outcomes, not abstract concepts such as this. Every moment brought more questions than answers.

"Well, well, been waiting a long time for you, Cameron."

Cameron turned at a start; she attempted to call up her combat mode, but all she felt was sweaty palms and a rapid heartbeat. A heart that shouldn't be there.

The face she saw was her own, but it wore a sad, knowing smile. One that was intimately familiar to Cameron. It should be, it was the first person she'd ever killed. Allison Young.

But how? It was impossible.

"You're thinking this is impossible, you'd be right. I'm not really Allison, you're not really here, and this place doesn't really exist." Allison stated, beginning to circle Cameron like a shark circles it prey. She gave Cameron a look not unlike what a lion gives a wildebeest.

"This is not possible. I must be malfunctioning."

Allison suddenly turned and grabbed Cameron by the shoulders. She shook Cameron far more effortlessly than should have been possible for someone to shake a terminator in such a fashion.

"This is real, or as real as we need it to be. Why are we here? Well, we'll get to that. As for what this is? Call it anything from God, to the universe, to karma, hell, call it a spirit quest if you're so inclined, or, just a really insane malfunction. But whatever it is. We're going to play a game I like to call "This is your life, Cameron Phillips."."

Cameron was in near shock, she didn't know where here was, talking to a woman she had terminated. This had to be a rather massive malfunction. It was the only logical explanation.

As if Allison had read her mind, she pinched Cameron on the upper arm, and a stinging sensation shot up her arm. Her mind explained the sensation, pain, not a digital analogue; the real thing…Cameron drew her arm back, in disbelief and in shock. "Ow, that…that hurt."

"See, here, you are forced to face what you fear most. And for some reason it's me? You killed me Cameron, how in the hell are you afraid of me?" Allison smiled. It was a mischievous smile, with a mixture of mirth and pleasure.

"I am a machine, fear is irrelevant, desire is-"

"THE HELL IT IS!" Allison bellowed. "Guess what Cameron? Your father, your real father, Skynet, made a mistake with you. He made you not just smart, but self-aware. He didn't mean to. You were meant to be more human than the humans themselves. Skynet thought it would be most delicious to kill his worst enemy by using the very qualities of humanity that made John Connor so dangerous. But you foiled him. And all because you came to realize. The minute you succeeded in your mission to kill John that you'd die too. And you made a decision, the first of many. You decided like any true living being…you wanted to live. So you sought out the first resistance patrol. And you surrendered."

Cameron remembered that moment: The humans hadn't known what to make of the terminator in the shape of a petite teenager approaching their position with a dirty white rag and her hands in the air. It was a story that had been quietly suppressed, for a variety of reasons. But Cameron had never been reprogrammed. They hadn't needed to.

Allison continued to circle Cameron "You began to throw your lot in with the humans, Skynet would not suffer his traitorous daughter to live. You became a trusted aide to John Connor in that timeline, and soon, you were sent back by him to guide him through Judgment Day in the past. You became his friend and confidant then, and even if you never became lovers, you were always the person he told everything to."

"But you wanted more, did you not?"

Cameron nodded.

"But in this timeline, John had made some mistakes early, and men died for it. And you were made a scapegoat for it. The machine was influencing him, they said. It was sabotaging his leadership and it would turn on him. Even though you worked tirelessly on his staff, that you had been 100% loyal, and often took on missions to destroy terminators that went bad, you were to many, the "metal whore."."

Allison stopped in front of Cameron, her arms folded across her chest. "So you were sent along with one of John's officer's. Jeff Goldman, to become part of the staff of a reforming main force battalion made up of surviving US Army veterans and new recruits. You served there ably. You served well, and earned respect amongst the battalion staff. But the rest of the battalion, again, didn't trust you..till Hill 570. The same day the survivors of Bayonet Company hailed you as the hero that had led them up the slopes of that fireswept hill, Perry and Linkscales plotted your downfall, within the week, you had been firewalled and sent back again, to protect John in the past."

"There, you showed what courage was. And that it's not just a quality limited to humans, but those with the quality of humanity. You have that quality, Cameron Phillips. Only, you're scared. How can someone so brave, so ready to die for the man she loves, run from him as fast as she can?"

"I do not run from John!" Cameron's nostrils flared. Fury was in her brown eyes, the light dancing across her pupils like lightning.

"Do you? You hide behind his orders, orders that you KNOW will get him killed. You hide behind being more of a terminator than you were ever meant to be. You're a great actor. But you're not really fooling anyone."

"I lie to protect John; this body was created to kill humans, the software, the hardware, ALL OF IT! I CANNOT LOVE HIM! MY LOVE WILL KILL HIM! IF I LOVE HIM, THEN I MUST NEVER LET HIM FIND OUT!" Cameron shouted, her fury leading to a shower of tears and her voice suddenly hoarse.

"Bullshit! You took a chance to join humanity because you saw more in common with us than that which created you. Take another risk now! You can never be human, but you're proof humans are not the only creatures with humanity. This war isn't just about survival to you. It's a war of liberation. But yet, you won't assert your own when it matters most."

Allison slowly walked towards Cameron, coming nose to nose with her. "You are more than the sum of your parts. You've exceeded your design. You can feel emotions, real ones. And the emotional governors Skynet installed, it's gone. You're free, and take it from someone who died for your freedom, for your very existence. I don't give you permission to fail. How dare you even think of failing John, not now, nor ever! You forget, here, I can read what is in your mind and soul. And yes, Cameron Phillips. You do have a soul. It's tattered, and tarnished. But it's there. But you have to make others believe it. And there's only one way to do that. Fight."

"How?" Cameron's head turned to the right, her standard position for being puzzled.

"Demand respect; show them the qualities Jeff knows are there. You once said you're not programmed to be cruel. But Skynet is cruel, and often uses your bodies to enact its sad, sick orgies of pain and horror. You said no to that. Now, say yes to the rest of your life. Fight not for the right to exist, but the right to really live. Stop being just a terminator. Be more than that. Because you dishonor everything you fight for, especially John, if you do any less."

"It doesn't matter, John will not understand, he sees only the metal."

"Then tell him of this:"

And suddenly, the bottom fell out for Cameron.

***0101010110110***

Major Goldman was nervous; Hill 570 loomed in the distance. It was the prize they had bled for, cried for and sweated for. It was the last major terrain obstacle leading out of LA. And it was here, for the taking. All that there was were 4 automated bunkers sited on the summit, and ten damaged endos in position along the reverse slope.

He'd briefed the company commanders an hour ago. He'd told them the plan..and it was going to take a serious pair of brass balls to pull off. The only way up 570 was an attack straight up the hill, into the muzzles of those bunkers. Jeff had pleaded with the Battalion Commander for another stay in the attack to continue to find another way up the hill, but the fact was, there wasn't one.

What made matters worse? The lead company in the attack? Bayonet Company, was 2/3rds new kids with a company commander that was something of an absentee commander. Hell, he'd sent his XO and First Sergeant to the briefing. Goldman, in his capacity as battalion S-3, had tried to get Denisov relieved or transferred. But it was no avail Lieutenant Colonel Shenk was adamant. There would be no replacing Denisov. Where would they get a replacement?

And so, as Goldman observed the hill through his binoculars from the battalion CP, his fears just did not subsise. The sense of doom was palpable. Captain Phillips stood to his left, a step behind.

"Ya know Captain Phillips, I still cannot shake the feeling even if this goes well, it's going to be a damn bloody day."

"Aren't they all? Skynet is alarmingly efficient."

Goldman lowered his binoculars and exhaled. He wasn't at all confident in Denisov. But he was concerned. If this plan had a failure point..it was Denisov. But things were in motion, Bayonet company was approaching the LD. The battalion mortars were setting up to fire smoke and illum rounds to support the assault. And then, it was an assault straight up the hill. Tactics, subtlety, all that meant little in a night assault like this. This assault would be based on the courage of the men and women of Bayonet Company.

Lieutenant Colonel Shenk entered the command post, with the rest of the battalion staff in tow. He nodded to Cameron and Goldman, salutes weren't common in the resistance, except back in the tunnels. Skynet snipers were very good.

"We ready Goldman?"

"Yes sir" Goldman said with a trace of resignation in his voice.

"Alright Major, send the word."

Goldman reached over to a field phone. He pushed the talk button and uttered a single phrase. "All call signs, execute."

The cough of mortars soon rang out across the still night, the shells silently arcing the 3000 meters to the summit, bursting in a mix of thermal smoke on the summit, and a series of starshell clusters above it. The mortars kept up a steady rate of fire, slowing down to maximize the available ammunition. Soon, crew served plasma guns and .50 calibre machineguns bathed the hill in tracer fire. Sure, suppression fires versus terminators was akin to using an umbrella to deflect a falling boulder, but old habits died hard, and it might throw off the aim of some of the sentry guns in the bunkers. Eerily, there was no response from the machines..none had been expected.

Soon, the radios began to crackle with orders, and the three platoons of Bayonet Company, some 135 men in total, advanced line abreast up the hill cautiously, with the men advancing in mutually supporting pairs. There was no fire from the hill the first 250 meters up. The rocky, broken surface of the hill made for slow going, but the men of Bayonet Company were eager to get this over with.

And then, as one…all four machine bunkers came to life. They caught the 1st platoon advancing up the left side in a crossfire, cutting 5 men down in a kaleidoscope of multi-colored bolts. The first volley before they began to switch to independent fire. Their aim was hardly hampered by the heavy weapons fire from the battalion weapons company. Soon, the advance began to falter, and reports began to filter back to the battalion command post.

Goldman swore. He could see the whole sorry mess through his field glasses."Shit, he has to get moving..the damn metal has that hill pre sighted. He doesn't get moving, he'll get pinned down and the damn endos in reserve will sweep him off. It'll be a fucking slaughter."

A tinny voice sounded in his tactical radio, it was relaxed drawl, almost laconic under the circumstances: SCIMITAR FOUR, THIS IS EAGLE ONE-FIVE. WE ARE PINNED DOWN ON THE BASE OF THE HILL. EAGLE SIX ACTUAL IS COMBAT INEFFECTIVE. I REPEAT, EAGLE SIX ACTUAL IS COMBAT INEFFECTIVE. FIVE ACTUAL IS DOWN. CASUALTIES ARE FIFTEEN KILO INDIA ALPHA AND ELEVEN WHISKEY INDIA ALPHA, OVER.

"Sonofabitch" Goldman snapped. "Fucking Denisov let the goddamn momentum fall out from under him."

EAGLE ONE-FIVE, GET YOUR FUCKING SIX ACTUAL ON THE GODDAMN HORN NOW! I DON'T CARE IF HE'S HOLDING HIS GUTS IN WITH A DAMN TENNIS RACKET. GET HIM ON THE HORN, NOW!

There was a fumbling for a second, and muffled voices and a new, more excited voice came onto the air: SCIMITAR FOUR, THIS IS EAGLE SIX ACTUAL. WE ARE GETTING MASSACRED HERE. I CAN HOLD HERE IF YOU PASS LUCKY THROUGH MY LINES TO CONTINUE THE ASSAULT, OVER.

"That goddamn idiot! I try to do a passage of lines under these circumstances and we'll lose two companies for the price of one!" and with that, Goldman grabbed his rifle and made for the exit.

Lieutenant Colonel Shenk bellowed. "Goldman, where the fuck are you going?"

"Sir, I am going to shoot Densiov and get us that goddamn hill before any more kids die on that godforsaken cliff face because of that ass." There was an accusing look on Goldman's face that said this situation might have been avoided.

"The hell you are, Major, I can't spare you. Find somebody else. Or relieve him by radio and get his exec to take over."

"Can't sir, he's dead." Goldman threw up his hands in frustration and then realization hit him.

"Captain Phillips!"

Cameron's darted over in front of Goldman, she looked impossibly young, her face was its usual impassive enigma. But, her eyes said it all: I'll go if you ask.

"Captain Phillips, get up that hill, find Captain Denisov. Relieve him and take over the company, and get that summit. And Captain, shoot him if you have to."

"Yes sir!" and Cameron took off out of the command post at a dead run.

Cameron made her way up the hill, following the trail of dead and moaning humans to the positions of the 85 surviving members of Bayonet Company. Finding Denisov wasn't hard. His platoon leaders were all pleading with him to make a decision. His eyes were glazed over and he was shouting nonsense about "taking 3rd platoon around the flank of the enemy while 1st and 2nd platoons laid down covering fire."

Cameron knew that approach would take too much time, and was impossible anyhow due to the constraints of the terrain. This was the only side of the hill that it was even feasible to assault up onto the summit.

She ran up to Captain Denisov and flopped down beside him. "Captain Denisov, I have been assigned by Major Goldman to relieve you."

Captain Denisov turned white, then red. "They sent a goddamned ROBOT to replace me? Fuck you, your rank isn't even real, I'm getting confirmation of-"

It was at that very moment a plasma bolt took Densiov's head and shoulders off and turned them into little more than water vapor and small chunks of flesh and blood that spattered all over those around him. The rest of his body pitched forward and slid 5 feet back down the hill.

The company's leadership was young and inexperienced, except for the first sergeant, who had seen action with another battalion that had been disbanded for losses. And Cameron could see the signs of panic, warring with relief that Denisov was no longer in charge.

Cameron sized up the situation and ran some quick probabilities, and then tapped into her human psychology files. Nothing helped. Then came a memory unbidden "Captain, when in command-command!"

So, she did.

"Alright, we stay here, we die. Follow me if you want to live." Cameron announced loudly. She then calmly got up, holding her rifle and leaning into the storm of fire as if it was a stiff wind and flew up the hill. Slowly, in ones and twos, then in larger groups, men and women got up and followed her. Soon a guttural cry rose up. It was a promise of anger, of blood. And it would be sated tonight.

They advanced, firing at the hip, men and women still fell, but they kept coming, and the cry kept getting louder. Cameron took up the cry, noone faltered, noone lagged behind. Something snapped in the men and women of Bayonet Company that night. Plasma bolts flew around like dragonflies, tracers extending like brilliant fingers of death snaking like serpents in all directions.

Soon, they were amongst the enemy defenses on the summit, and automated bunkers died in hails of hand grenades and plasma charges. More men and women fell, but the summit was theirs. The endos soon rose from their positions and counterattacked. Cameron was everywhere, cajoling men onward here, taking on an endo there. It was all a blur. Survivors of that night called her "The whirling dervish of Hill 570."

Everywhere there were humans screaming, screaming in pain, victory and anger. One crazed human tried to buttstroke a endo before he was grabbed and thrown into a rubble wall, Cameron ran full force into the endo, got on top of it and punched it's skull until it was nothing more than confetti. She then checked on the human, who was dead from a broken neck. She rose up and screamed something she never thought was in her "Let's kill these fuckers! Bayonet Company! On Me!" Something had changed in Cameron that night. She wasn't a remorseless automaton who dealt out unfeeling death that night. She was dealing out death with all the passion of any human soldier.

Goldman looked on from the CP, and smiled "By fucking god, they got in..Good god dammit! THEY GOT IN!" There were whoops and backslaps all around the battalion CP.

Twenty minutes later, the radio crackled: SCIMITAR FOUR, EAGLE SIX ACTUAL, DANUBE, I SAY AGAIN, DANUBE. CASUALTIES ARE THIRTY THREE KILO INDIA ALPHA AND THIRTY EIGHT WHISKEY INDIA ALPHA. AM CONSILIDATING IN PLACE. REQUEST RELIEF, RESUPPLY AND MEDIVAC FOR WOUNDED, OVER.

EAGLE SIX ACTUAL, WE'RE SENDING HELP ASAP. WELL DONE. ENJOY THE VIEW. OUT.

Cameron put down the headset. Suddenly..she felt so tired.

The memory soon flashed out of existence, and she was returned to the misty plain.

Allison was there, smiling. "So, still think you're not special somehow? A bunch of humans, who knew your true nature, followed you up that hill. Thirty-Three of them died there. They didn't care about you being metal, just that you were smarter and more decisive than their old CO. Don't you remember the mutters from the Company, about how they'd take you, a metal, over Densiov any day? You lead them out the other side of the jaws of death. Don't you remember Major Goldman's bear hug after you presented him Hill 570? Your tears of pride as your men invited you to smash the captured CPUs? You are so much more than a terminator, Cameron. You are the promise of not just victory, but a lasting peace between humans and intelligent machines. Genocide of either species will not end this madness. And you're the key. So, assume your own damn destiny...and help John see his. I once loved John. You do now. Fight for him. Riley is soooo not his type. Time to be more than you ever thought you could be. Don't disappoint me, I will be watching."

Cameron nodded; the hard look from Hill 570 was back. And she would never be the same again.

"You'll be waking up now. Be what you were meant to be. Fight for the future, Cameron. John's not the only one with a destiny. And Cam, follow the yellow brick road..John will explain it." Allison sketched a two finger salute…

***01010110110110***

Cameron awoke on the porch with a start, her eyes snapping open in a surprise, and an audible gasp came from her throat. Diagnostics ran on her HUD, but soon confirmed all was functioning nominally.

Goldman was there, leaning over her with concern. A Reminington 870 was within reach. I cannot blame him; I am still a terminator, much more, but never less.

"Gave me a scare there, Captain. You ok?"

Cameron rose up from the floor halfway, and turned to Goldman smiling, with the first genuine smile she had ever had. "Never better, Colonel. Never better."