Title- Becoming John Connor
Chapter- 9/?
Author- Dekardkain
Date- 03/10/10
Rating- T
Category - Action/Character study JC/C
Archiving- Would be an honor, just ask.
Warnings- Violence/language
Disclaimers- I don't own this, no money, yadda yadda. (yeah, I yadda yadda'd a disclaimer)
Summary: Facing one's fate is the measure of a man. Changing one's fate is the measure of a hero.
Chapter 9 - "Fun and Games"
Tech-Com HQ (Temporary)
Southwest of Bakersfield California
October 31st, 2027
2135 hrs
The first sign you'd hit the tunnels was always the smell. Cooking fires, unwashed bodies, and the human waste you'd rather dump inside than give away your position disposing of properly. After a week on extended patrol though, it only smelled like one thing to the haggard scout sniper - home.
Apparently Amanda wasn't the only one who thought so. Duke was straining at his leash as they rounded the final bend into the complex proper and O'Brien couldn't say she blamed the mutt. Seven days with only herself as company and she'd be probably be ready for a change of pace too.
Two hulking guards now stood where twelve had just three months before. They didn't bother to salute and neither did she. Amanda would take two in the skull before she ever raised a hand to metal.
Ten minutes of winding and ever-descending passages found the gang, for lack of a better term, was exactly where she expected them to be huddled in a tight circle just outside the entry to the Command Complex already well into their Saturday night ritual. Amanda was glad she hadn't missed the fun as she was pretty sure she'd win this week, and even if she hadn't, it was still worth the bragging rights. Duke on the other hand was just happy to see Allison. He was always happy to see Allison. Finally giving up the fight the Private released his leash and let him bound the last thirty feet to the girl's side, his arrival eliciting a flurry of greetings she was too tired to do much more than grunt at.
Glancing to the small piles of black CPU's sitting in front of everyone but Allison she frowned, "Am I too late?"
Derek motioned towards the decrepit lawn chair Corporal Nelson had dug from the rubble a few days before but no one had actually been brave enough to sit on yet. "You're just in time O'Brien."
"Sergeant." Freeing the tangled mass of red she only jokingly referred to as hair from her knit cap Amanda slipped into her customary seat next to her best friend who was currently still fussing over her partner. "It's nice to see you too Ally."
"You might get more attention if you tried licking her face." Reese's smirk lasted just long enough for the younger woman's hat to bounce off it.
Allison scruffed the fur on the sides of the dog's neck, laughing while he made short work of the grime she'd built up on her cheeks the last few days. "I know that look Amanda. How'd you do?"
Slipping down into the rusted old lawn chair beside the girl with more than a little trepidation, O'Brien was pleased when the two or three nylon filaments still holding the damn thing together didn't snap outright. Reaching into her pocket with an infuriatingly smug grin she tossed ten small black CPUs onto the dusty ground in the center of the group. Hers were as usual slightly more charred than the others, but you really couldn't blame a sniper for an overabundance of head-shots. "Read it and weep bitches. I bagged my limit."
"No fuckin' way." Hendrix glowered from the other side of the circle, leaning closer to examine the young woman's take for himself. Huey had the lead until she'd shown up, which easily explained his attitude.
Amanda smirked, "Now there's ten of 'em there Mikey so you're gonna need to use all your little piggies to count 'em."
"Looks like we've got ourselves a winner." Derek just quirked a brow before shaking his head and handing off the small plastic milk jug full of moonshine. "Nice haul Private."
"Ah, thank you." Amanda fired off in her best Elvis voice. "Thank you very much."
"Aren't we proud of ourselves?" Allison rolled her eyes, "No credit for your better half over here?"
O'Brien chuckled while taking a quick pull off the jug, only partially stifling the inevitable coughing fit. "Hey, he just sniffs 'em out. I'm the one who's gotta bring 'em down."
Running a hand along the dog's ribs Allison frowned. "He's lost more weight Amanda. Have you been feeding him enough?"
"He eats better than I do." O'Brien glowered while handing the bottle back to Reese. "Not all of us get proper food Ally."
Or get to avoid combat. The second part might have been unspoken but the Private's pointed glance at Allison's lack of a pile hammered it home enough for the girl to look away sheepishly. Amanda could feel the anger drain out of her almost immediately but before she could apologize a haggard Corporal came bolting out of the Command Center and right up to their circle.
The runner glanced quickly around the group, "I'm looking for Young. They said she was around here. Private Allison Young?"
Glancing up from the dog who still had his muzzle nestled on her lap, Allison quirked her head to the side in confusion. "Yeah?"
"Connor wants to see you." The man looked infinitely relieved to have found her, no one liked keeping the General waiting. "Said something about a debrief and it seemed mighty important to him. I'd move my ass if I was you."
Blushing three shades of scarlet Allison nodded quickly, "Thank you. You can tell him I'm on my way."
The runner was gone almost before she'd finished the sentence, leaving the young woman to shrug apologetically to the group while rising from the cinder blocks she'd been using as a seat. "I'll catch up with you later Amanda."
"Ally..."
"I said I'll catch up with you later." Patting Duke on the head one last time Allison turned to head for Connor's quarters in the Command Complex. She'd made it no more than ten steps when a hand on her forearm brought her to a screeching halt. Turning back to face the pissed off redhead glaring up at her she just sighed in resignation. "What?"
Amanda shook her head in disbelief, "Is this really what you want? To be another one of his whores? You told me this was gonna stop."
"I know." Pulling her arm free Allison ran her fingers along the silvery material of the bracelet that John had given her self-consciously. "I lied."
"Look... Ally." O'Brien took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing. "I know it's gotta be nice being with him. Decent food, clean clothes, probably even a bath before he...."
"It's not like that! You think I care about the food?!" Allison growled, squaring off against the soldier with a gleam in her eyes Amanda had never seen before. "John needs me!"
"Connor," Amanda corrected her sternly, "Don't need anyone. The sooner you realize that the less it's going to hurt you when he moves on to his next piece of ass."
The crack of Allison's hand tearing across her cheek reverberated through the tunnels, though it was easily drowned out by the ringing in her ears. "Fuck you O'Brien."
"Ally..." The older woman reached for her friend but she just brushed her hands off and stormed past the guards into the compound swiping feverishly at her face. The compound Amanda wasn't allowed inside.
Shaking her head O'Brien sauntered back to her seat and collapsed with a weary sigh. Noticing the quickly reddening welt marring her porcelain skin Derek leaned across the circle and handed off the jug of hooch with a sympathetic smile.
Tossing the Resistance fighter a grateful smile that didn't reach her eyes Amanda could only shake her head. "She loves him..."
Derek nodded as sagely as his inebriation allowed. "They always do."
Connor Compound
Pueblo Colorado
Feb 25th, 2011
1055 hrs
Running his eyes over the white-board one last time before scanning the faces around the table for any sign of disagreement, John let out a weary sigh. "It's a good plan."
Sarah frowned down at her now lukewarm coffee, "We still don't have any idea what we're going to do if this thing's netface..."
"Okay." John pinched the bridge of his nose in barely contained frustration. "At this point I'm convinced you're doing that on purpose. It's 'network interface' and it's Wilson, not 'this thing'."
To her credit, Sarah just quirked a brow at her son. "Who pissed in your Cheerios?"
The younger Connor's shoulders drooped visibly as he drew a few deep breaths to force a calm he definitely wasn't feeling at the moment. He knew very well why he was so protective of Wilson and it had little to nothing to do with the cyborg's physical resemblance to Uncle Bob. Every insult and implication could just as easily have been directed at Cameron. Every time they asserted he wasn't a person. Every time they insinuated he didn't have a soul... God dammit, I am not fucking a toaster!
It had been irritating when he'd thought it didn't bother her. Now that he understood how deeply she was capable of feeling it killed him to watch as she stoically accepted everything they dished out. Cameron would have told him that only his opinion mattered to her. He knew better. At least she wasn't here to have to listen to this.
"It just bothers me when you do that. He's a sentient... being! Alright? He's served the Resistance for years and I just think he's entitled to a little bit of basic fucking dignity." There. Calm, concise, and even a little eloquent if he did say so himself. Well, with the exception of the F-bomb.
Private O'Brien rolled her eyes from the other side of the table while tapping her pin idly across the knuckles of her other hand. "I believe the term you're looking for is basic human dignity, sir. Human being the key word there."
A strange look stole across John's face as he turned to face the woman. O'Brien was one of his best, thus the reason she was sitting at this table in the first place. That and the fact she would be playing a pivotal role in the attacks. She'd never questioned him before...
"Fine John." Sarah tossed her hands in the air, not willing to fight over this... at the moment. "We still don't know if Wilson's network interface is going to work! Better? Can we actually address the problem now or do you feel like having another Midol moment?"
Patience had been in increasingly short supply around the Connor household since the attacks. You knew it was getting bad when even Cameron was being snappish. When he'd come down the stairs that morning she'd had a bowl of cereal waiting for him, which was tossed unceremoniously into the trash, bowl included, when he'd explained he wasn't hungry.
Considering the day he'd had since, it had turned out to be a pretty spot-on omen of things to come. John had the distinct impression Cam and Sarah had it out the other night, but neither seemed willing to elaborate and he knew better than to push.
Sarah had managed maybe four hours of solid sleep in the last three days, keeping watch over Derek like a disheveled and slightly smelly sentinel. John was starting to wonder if they were all about to travel down the same road they'd been on three years ago if she didn't get her shit together ASAP. The last thing he needed at the moment was an already pissed off and possibly hallucinating Sarah Connor. He needed her strength now more than ever.
The basic problem he faced was that there was nothing more annoying in this universe or any other than a group of people all trying to blame themselves for the same thing. His mother blamed herself for 'letting' he and Derek expose themselves needlessly. Cameron blamed herself because she hadn't been standing like a statue in front of their hotel window all night. Derek blamed himself for 'dragging' Sarah out with him to the bar like you could actually force her to do something against her will and still remain in possession of your testicles.
For his part, John was convinced only he understood the truth - it was his fault. Even if he hadn't insisted on going alone with Cameron to set up the safe house. Even if he hadn't been more interested in making his new girlfriend's eyes glow than preparing for Judgment Day. Even if his lack of basic freaking security precautions hadn't possibly cost Derek the use of his arm. He was John Connor.
It was his fault. That's just the way things were.
He wasn't measuring up and they were already starting to question his judgment. The problem was that John was convinced this was the one issue he couldn't budge on. They needed the machines if they were going to win this war and survive the aftermath. If he couldn't convince them of that fact... there wasn't anyone else who could. It had occurred to him more than once that when the Dark Side looked like Cameron it really shouldn't have been this tough a sell.
Shoving his chair back from the table with his good arm, John's glower was enough to bring the smattering of conversation around the table to a screeching halt. It was time to start laying the new ground rules. "There's no way to know if it will work until he's jacked into the up-link. Am I happy about it? No. Would I feel more comfortable with a dry run? Hell yes. But there's really only one question we need to answer Lieutenant. Does anyone have a better plan?"
Scanning the table again he was pleased to see he'd made his point. Only Sarah, Cameron, and Ellison actually had the fortitude to meet his eyes. "Didn't think so."
"So, lets move along to team composition. Lieutenant Baum, you'll be taking Alpha. " Flipping the board on it's axis John nodded towards the names scrawled across the other side it in blue marker. "Alpha team is going to take and hold the satellite uplink station. Our friends in the future were thoughtful enough to outfit Wilson with the closest thing to Plug and Play we could ask for short of a USB port so we shouldn't have any problems there. Regardless I'm sending Specialist Austin with you in case unforeseen technical problems arise mid-mission."
"You won't be coming with us?" Sarah did not look happy. John sighed, tough shit.
"No. With Derek out of commission we're short a team leader." Motioning to the diagrams he'd handed out earlier he continued, "This station is in Bum-Fuck and the scanning process is non-invasive so the authorities should be none the wiser. This is the linchpin of the entire operation people. Wilson is the only chance we have of locating these Triple-8's. Skynet has never trusted it's machines and for once that's going to work in our favor."
John shook his head. "While they set their field units to 'read only' when they're sent out, Skynet isn't stupid enough to completely sever them from it's network. That connection is always present when they're within broadcast distance so it can relay new orders or..."
Sarah snorted, "So it can self-destruct them if they go rogue."
Her son raised his eyebrows in surprise. His mother's insight never ceased to amaze him. Nor did her ability to boil a situation down to it's bare bones. "Exactly. Now most terminators are only outfitted to receive but like I said, the Resistance outfitted Wilson to be a transmitter. He doesn't have Skynet's processing power which means we can't flat out hijack their systems or anything, but he can initiate a self-diagnostic which will send all of the unit's Situational Data back to 'Skynet', or in our case, our friend Wilson who's gonna be posing as Skynet. What's more, it's set to do so without consciously alerting the unit, which means the Triple-8s won't have any idea they're being pinged."
"Situational Data?" It was his mother's turn to shake her head, "How does that help us?"
"Included in that," John's smile was ear-to-ear as he retook his seat. "Is their GPS coordinates. Doesn't get much easier than that now does it?"
"It could." Cameron provided helpfully as she rounded the corner into the dining room and greeted John with a small smile. "If you had GPS-guided missiles we could simply..."
"Rhetorical, Cam." John returned her smile.
"Of course. Sarah." The cyborg greeted the woman with a cool nod before slipping into her customary place at John's side. "Private Reiger said you requested my presence."
"Perfect timing as always Cam. Grab a seat." He waited for her to sink down into the chair to his right before continuing. "I want you at these meetings from now on, alright?"
John might have been oblivious to the looks crisscrossing the table at his words but Sarah picked them up instantly. His soldiers were finally picking up on an unconscious, but very telling, trait he'd developed in his interactions with the cyborg. Cameron was the only person John did that with. It was never an order. Always a request.
Looking a little confused but more than willing to comply the cyborg nodded. "Alright."
"Good. Now that Cameron's here we can move on to phase two." Flipping through the legal pad in front of him John drained the last of his coffee with a grimace. It had gone cold thirty minutes ago. "Now we don't have much time to complete this OP before Judgment Day which narrows down our options considerably. The limited time-frame, our smaller pool of manpower, and the fact we'll have to hold the up-link station for the duration means we need to focus on speed. Quick, devastating strikes are going to be the order of the day on this one."
"Two strike teams, designated Whiskey and Tango, will be dispatched to deal with the two closest targets," Tossing a thumb over his shoulder John pointed to the map of North America on the wall with pins connected by various colors of yarn adorning it. "We just don't have enough troops to hit all three at once so after neutralizing the first two targets we'll regroup and take the last one at full force."
Sarah nodded along. So far it seemed reasonable. "Why not just send one of the teams after the last target? We'll be stuck at the up-link for the duration, if everyone else is hunting terminators who's going to set up the safe house?"
"No time." John shook his head. "The Triple-8's may have no idea we're locating them but I'm assuming they'll have help in this time line, most likely grays who've set up front corporations. They're bound to notice when two of their most valued assets get knocked off in short order."
Cameron frowned, "And elevate security around the last terminator accordingly."
"Which is why we'll need everyone for the final assault." John agreed with a smirk. It's like they didn't expect him to have thought of this himself. "Each team is going to be packing for terminator. Remember though, try to disable them if you can, the data in those chips could do a lot of good in the right hands."
"You mean in our hands." Ellison eyed the young man pointedly from the other side of the table. The former agent didn't pipe in often, but when he did, he got everyone's attention.
Connor just rolled his eyes. "Same thing. But as long as it doesn't end up in Skynet's we'll call it a victory."
"Whiskey is broken down into two, four-man squads." Returning everyone's attention to the white board with a wave of his hand John ticked off the names, "Reed will be heading up Whiskey Two with O'Brien, Carmack, and Coons. I'll take Whiskey Lead with Cole, Reiger, and Huey."
John made it a point to ignore his mother's glower and Cameron's unflinching stare. He knew they were all going to be discussing his decision... in detail. He just hoped they were both smart enough to bring their concerns to him in private rather than air them in front of the rest of the group. In fact he'd kind of been counting on them being smart enough, thus the reason he'd broken the news to them during the meeting. If Sarah thought she was pissed of now though...
"With Derek wounded Tango's going to have to be cut down to a single six man squad." Taking a moment to adopt what he hoped was a passable facsimile of his future self's 'don't fuck with me' stare, John powered ahead. "So I've decided you'll need every extra advantage you can get. That's why Cameron will be taking over Derek's command until he's back on his feet."
Silence.
Complete, total, awkward as hell, silence. Even Cameron was looking at him like he'd grown a second head, most likely because he'd just told her in no uncertain terms that they would both be going into combat at the same time and she wouldn't be there to protect him. Not exactly the 'thanks for having confidence in me John' he was hoping for, but not entirely unexpected either.
Power through Johnny. "Since Tango is going to be smaller and I'm stealing our only scout sniper for Reed's squad, there's a much higher chance of up close and personal combat with that Triple-8. Cameron has more experience than anyone else here dealing with that kind of fight, I trust her to get you all out of there in one piece."
"Cam," John turned to face her only to be greeted with the emotionless facade she usually reserved for others. "Corporals McGhee and Lorne will need to be brought up to speed when we're done here. Raid the armory and get them acquainted with the new 40mm launchers."
There was another stretch of awkward silence while John silently pleaded with her using nothing more than his eyes. Finally deciding he would face enough obstacles in following through with this decision without her adding to it, Cameron nodded. "I'll take care of it."
"Good." The young man exhaled a little more forcefully than he'd intended. Running an eye over the faces surrounding him at the table, John figured he should get the hell out of here while he was still ahead of the game. The boiling point didn't appear far off and it would probably be best to give everyone some space to cool off and let his reasoning sink in. Slapping his good palm down onto the table he did his level best at channeling his mother. "Lets get to work people. Alpha departs in forty-eight hours."
Location Unknown
Newark, New Jersey
Feb 25th, 2011
0730hrs
Arte had never been to the United States before, but so far she had to say it looked pretty much the same as any other industrial area in Eastern Europe. Perhaps a bit cleaner, but she assumed one warehouse was the same as any other, regardless of where they were on the planet.
Dimitri was at her side as they passed line after line of nondescript shipping containers, two of her father's most trusted men traveling in lockstep a few feet behind. Arte had known most of them since before she could walk, 'Uncle' Dimitri in particular. He had visited their home often when she was a child, always with a smile and a bar of contraband Western chocolate. It wasn't until many years later she'd realized he worked for her father at the KGB.
Contrary to the vision of the warm and friendly man she knew as a child, Dimitri was a cold-blooded assassin who had earned his high position by virtue of surviving when all of his compatriots had not. There was something to be said for that sort of accomplishment, especially in the kind of world he and Pezevenk Sarkissian inhabited.
Trying to hide her nervousness by clenching her hands behind her back Arte turned to her father's oldest friend, speaking in Armenian on the off chance someone nearby might overhear. "You have a plan, yes?"
"My intelligence team have located the targets, little one." Spotting the container number he'd been looking for Dimitri guided the young woman around the corner with a hand at the small of her back. Warming a bit at the smile she gave him when he used her childhood nickname, he continued. "Your father was right, this is not our average quarry."
"If it were, he would not have sent you." Arte insisted.
"Da little one. You share the General's sharp insight." Stopping in front of a massive blue boxcar the assassin eyed the serial number one last time before nodding to the men behind them. "Nikolai, this is it."
Guiding Arte back from the door while the soldier sliced through the locks with a pair of bolt-cutters, Dimitri shook his head. "Your father has already dispatched ten more men, they will arrive tomorrow night. This compound they live in is impenetrable. If we attack them head on we will lose many men and still likely fail in the end. We will wait and watch. Patience will provide us with an opportunity to destroy them in the open, it always does."
There was a sharp 'pop' followed by the clatter of the lock and chain crashing to the asphalt. Nikolai hammered the handles to the side with the bolt-cutters before yanking the locking bars upwards and swinging the massive steel doors open.
Arte chocked back a gasp as the early morning sunlight poured through the opening to illuminate row after row of weapons and ammunition stacked to overflowing inside the nondescript shipping container. Noting her shocked expression Dimitri ran his flashlight over the back of the container revealing a pair of Jeeps already outfitted with perfectly 'legal' New Jersey plates. "The United States likes to believe they are secure, and for the most part they are. It is virtually impossible to get such weapons on a plane."
"With a few weeks and a little forward planning though...East Coast ports are one of the most crooked enterprises known to man." Dimitri's grin was barely contained. "Organized crime here is almost as efficient as it is back home. Though they still have much to learn."
Running her fingers over an RPG-7 on a wall rack Arte frowned, "Is all of this really necessary? You have enough weaponry here to mount an invasion."
"I do not like to do a job half-way, little one." Motioning for his men to start loading the Jeeps Dimitri pulled the girl's hand away from the tank killer with a chastising smile. "Didn't your father teach you not to touch such things?"
Her reply was cut short as a pair of voices approached from outside the container bringing all action inside to a screeching halt.
"Hey! I'm talkin' to you jackass!" The thick New York accent echoed off the metal making it even more annoying as two dock employees in coveralls and hardhats stormed towards them. "This is a restricted area, comprende? You understand 'restricted area'?"
His friend shoved his chest out as they rounded the edge of the container, "Translates roughly into homeland security beatin' on your ass good and proper for bein' where you're not supposes to be."
Admittedly, English wasn't Dimitri's first language, but he could have sworn the word 'supposed' had a 'd' in it. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is all big misunderstanding. I have all documentation necessary right here."
"I don't care if you've got a backstage pass to the next Springsteen show you commie fuck..." Catching sight of the inside of the container the man's eyes bulged in a mixture of shock and terror.
Teddy Scarborough never got to finish his final xenophobic thought. Dimitri pulled the silenced 9mm from the shelf beside him and with as much emotion as most people exhibited stepping on a bothersome insect placed two rounds into each man's chest. He would have preferred a single shot to the head but was unsure of the effect the mens' hardhats might have had on the trajectory of such a low caliber round. Best to be sure.
Eying the pistol for a few seconds while checking it's heft, Dimitri smiled in approval before slipping it into his bag. Arte was beside herself while his soldiers calmly dragged the bodies to the far corner of the shipping container.
It took her a few moments to compose herself before she was able to keep her voice down to an acceptable level. "Was that really necessary Dimitri?"
"No." The man admitted with a shrug, "But I despise bad diction."
Connor Compound
Pueblo Colorado
Feb 25th, 2011
2100 hrs
Derek Reese absolutely hated being laid up. Hated everything about it.
He hated the way you had nothing to focus on but the pain and the feeling of hard-earned muscles slowly deteriorating from lack of use. He hated the fact you had nothing to do but think. He hated the way those thoughts almost always revolved around what you'd done to get your sorry ass in this position in the first place.
Of course he'd never never had an ample supply of top-of-the-line painkillers and a Playstation 3 before either, and he had to admit, it made all the difference in the world. Having been regularly trapped inside his own home by a monster John referred to as GI Sarah, the kid had more than a few good ideas when it came to keeping yourself occupied while stuck on your back. Derek had a few good ideas too, but no company of the female persuation to try them out on.
At least Sarah had finally left his side for a while. The attention was appreciated and everything but the woman was a mess and frankly... getting kinda smelly. He'd thanked Gods he hadn't talked to in years when he'd heard her shower kick on a few hours before.
So John had thrust the distracting little contraption on him when he'd caught his uncle re-categorizing the supply cache list... for the third time. In Derek's defense, he'd been reshuffling from alphabetical to geographical location, which he'd thought the Boss would have appreciated.
Apparently not.
It wasn't his fault a post-apocalyptic Resistance didn't have a lot of paperwork. Hell, towards the end there weren't many left who could have read it anyways. Literacy isn't a very high priority when you're fighting for survival. He knew for a fact that both Carmack and Lorne were functionally illiterate, which John had insisted they work on.
It had taken him a while to figure out how to operate the controls with only one properly functioning arm, but a little persistence and a lot of boredom had proved a lethal combination. Just goes to show that there isn't a machine on this Earth Derek Reese couldn't make his bitch. An authoritative knock at the door had the Resistance fighter pausing Madden 2011 and tossing the controller to the foot of the bed. "It's open."
Backing in with a tray of food perfectly balanced in one hand and a large glass of orange juice in the other was the last person... cyborg, he corrected himself with a mental slap, he had been expecting to see. Using more grace than he usually associated with metal Cameron pulled his door shut behind her with her foot before approaching his bed with a neutral look. "I've brought food."
Derek smirked, "I can see that. Why are you bringing it?"
"John asked that I check in on you." Setting the stainless steel serving tray down on the nightstand beside the Resistance fighter's bed, Cameron handed off the orange juice along with three large white pills. Realizing at the last moment that he couldn't hold the pills and the glass at the same time with only one working hand she actually looked a little sheepish as she set them down beside him on the bedspread. "He was also insistent that I watch you take your medication."
"Was he now?" Rolling his eyes at the pills next to him Derek took a swig of the orange juice before handing it back to her. "If he cares so much why the hell didn't he bring the food?"
Cameron frowned pointedly, "He's busy briefing his squad for the..."
"Bullshit." Derek tossed the pills into the back of his throat and dry-swallowed them, cringing a little at the bitter aftertaste. "He can't handle seeing someone who was wounded under his watch. He needs to get over that shit, wasn't his fault. And I imagine it's going to be happening a lot over the next twenty years or so."
"I understand that." It surprised him that Cameron appeared genuinely troubled by his words, "John does not."
"He can be thick-headed." Shaking his head Derek grabbed the orange juice and took a long swallow hoping to banish the bitter aftertaste of the pills. In actuality it just mixed together and made everything worse. Kind of like this conversation. "Just like his father."
Cameron nodded, glancing to the door over her shoulder. "He is making... unpopular decisions."
"Shocker." Picking at the chips on his plate Derek tried to ignore the look on the cyborg's face. She seemed genuinely concerned about the situation and it bothered him more than he wanted to let on. It was days like this he was forced to ask himself how much of her behavior really was just an act. There was no advantage to be had by coming to him with this information. In fact it would probably piss John off if he ever found out. The only reason for coming to him was a genuine desire to make sure he was protected from any danger. Even her.
Tossing the uneaten food back onto his plate he ran an appraising eye over her. "What did he do?"
"He put me in charge of your command." Shaking her head Cameron turned back to him, "He is leading an assault team personally... I won't be with him."
Shit. Derek sighed. It was never an easy problem when it came to Connor.
On the one hand he was sure he was supposed to be doing back-flips that John was breaking the umbilical he seemed to have developed with the machine, but on the other the idea of him entering a potentially harmful situation without her had become almost unthinkable... even to him. He knew how John's mind worked. The kid wasn't stupid. Blind sometimes, but not stupid.
He most likely knew there would be waves when he put Cameron in charge of his squad and had decided to cut the rumors off at the hilt by distancing himself from her. Smart move, but it wouldn't be enough. For all his genius John just couldn't understand how the minds of these Resistance fighters worked. He may very well be able to convince the survivors of this Judgment Day to trust the machines, provided he laid the groundwork of cooperation from the very beginning as he seemed to be planning. But the old salts like himself... there was just no hope. Especially where Cameron was concerned.
Most of these soldiers had seen the end of the war, otherwise John could never have spared so many to send back to the past. They resented the machine that had stolen their General away from them, though Derek had to take their word on that one, the pretty much universal distaste they displayed for her seemed to indicate not everything that had come out of Jesse's mouth had been a bold-faced lie. Then of course were those like him, those who'd known Allison, which added a whole different dimension to the problem.
John had at least assured him he wasn't sleeping with the thing. As long as that was the case Derek would go to bat for him. "I'm sure he's got his reasons."
"He insists it's because of my combat ability against T-888s." Cameron's eyes glowed slightly as she recalled his words when he'd pulled her aside after the meeting, "That my experience and durability would be an invaluable addition to the team."
"Bullshit." Derek repeated with the same finality he had earlier. Machines may be smart, but they could be so dense sometimes. Just because he didn't like it didn't mean Reese couldn't see the truth when it was staring him straight in the eyes. "He put you in charge for the same reason he chose me and Sarah. Because we're the only people he trusts."
Rolling his eyes the Resistance fighter came to a grudging decision. "Don't worry. I'll run a little damage control."
"This time." The edge in the man's voice got his point across.
Knowing better than to express too much emotion around the volatile human Cameron kept her smile to a barely perceptible smirk. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." After a short pause Derek returned her smile. "Seriously. Don't mention it. Ever."
"Understood." Cameron spun on a heel and headed quickly for the door. It was best to retreat while the man was in an agreeable mood.
"You knew him in the future." Derek's voice caught her just as she was clearing the doorjamb, causing her to pause mid-step. Pulling the tray of food off his nightstand and setting it down on his lap Derek tore into his meal. "You know what it means when Connor trusts you."
Cameron nodded once. "I do."
Smirking around a mouthful of rice Derek pointed his fork at her. "Then don't fuck it up."
Stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her, Cameron vowed she wouldn't.
T.B.C.
Author's Note - First I wanna give a huge thank you to my new beta Bigbew who has been helping me out a lot with the next few chapters. It's always appreciated man. If you haven't checked out his stories Just Something I Should Do, and I Wouldn't Be Worth Much If I Couldn't Feel, you should give both a read. Whole slew of Jameron goodness involved.
Sorry about the gap in the updates but I wanted to make sure I had all my ducks in a row for the next few chapters before embarking on this story ark.
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, hope I don't miss anyone: LJM, TK-MR, Nordwest (who was thorough as always so big brownie points there), J3aless, TSCCandTwilightarehebest, Tpolich, Firespray (glad I restored your faith in TSCC fics, they're the shit), Shadow, Morded (who rocked my world with an awesome review), Bigbew, Fullhans1, Lee443, Julian Carax, and finally Kaotic2 who I am totally holding to their promise to give me a better review this time :~)
Anyways. Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, can't wait to see your thoughts on this chapter.
