Fort Carson
Three billion human lives had been extinguished on Judgement Day; hundreds, thousands of cities across the world had fallen victim to devastating nuclear attacks. Skynet launched a second wave of chemical attacks on the remaining population centres; preserving their infrastructures for Skynet's use whilst wiping out any chance of resistance from their human inhabitants, rendering them ghost towns, deathly silent and devoid of any life.
Fort Carson was one clear exception, however; silence replaced by the constant thrumming of engines, the clacking of combat boots on tarmac, and the echoing slams of crates and boxes being unceremoniously dumped into the backs of numerous cargo trucks. Fort Carson, unlike most places now, was full of life. A dozen men worked to load precious cargo into the backs of as many trucks, bound for resistance bases hidden among the ruins of several cities and towns in Colorado. Above the background noises of a base in operation was the sound of numerous voices, chatting loudly as they worked; unafraid of being discovered, since under Connor's lead they had cleared Fort Carson, Colorado Springs, and the surrounding areas, and made them probably the safest place on Earth.
"Seriously Sarge," one voice sounded above the others. "I'm tired of all these damn supply runs. When are we gonna bust some metal?"
"When you learn to hold your gun properly, Parker," Burke shot back at the new recruit, prompting him to hold his rifle in both hands instead of lazily leaning it over his shoulder. Burke couldn't blame the man for being antsy; most people – both soldiers and civilians- had lost someone on Judgement Day, and there was no shortage of those who wanted vengeance of some kind. The upshot of that was they had plenty of new, eager recruits; the downside being that some were a little too eager and wanted to run before they could even crawl.
While Connor was fighting Skynet in Nevada, Ellison had most of the remaining squads in Cheyenne on supply runs to and from Fort Carson; keeping the mountain base supplied and also distributing ammunition to nearby resistance units. While Connor had been healing from his gunshot wounds, Captain Perry had led numerous attacks on Skynet factories, and had captured plenty of ammunition in the process; they'd captured almost a million rounds of 7.62mm ammo and crates upon crates of the heavier 30mm rounds which they could use for the Sentry guns that Cameron had made.
Ammunition wasn't going to be a problem for a good, long while. Something Burke was grateful for, as only a day after Connor had left, a recon patrol in Pueblo County had spotted another factory that had sprouted up from nowhere and needed to be taken out. The new recruits had gotten wind of the discovery in Pueblo and many wanted a piece of the action, despite being barely trained.
"Aw, come on, Sarge, I'm getting sick of these milk run missions," another newbie chipped in as he loaded a box of grenades into the back of a cargo truck.
"Let's see how 'sick' of them you are when you're pinned down by HKs and your friends are getting slaughtered next to you!" Burke snapped at them. He'd never say it to them but he desperately wanted to be out on the front lines as well; not babysitting half a dozen barely trained 'cadets' on a supply mission. "Get back to work; I want those trucks ready to go in five minutes."
"Aw, man! We're not even half done yet," another conscript moaned.
"Then I suggest you double time it, maggots," Burke answered. "And the next one who complains is walking home!"
The trainee soldiers muttered to themselves but picked up their pace and started to load crates of ammunition, food, and medical supplies into the trucks; none of them doubting the sergeant's threat for a second. Burke watched as they worked; he too wanted to get back into the action. He'd not shot at any metal for nearly a week now and it was driving him crazy. He knew the only way for them to learn how to fight was to give them some real experience, but there was little in the immediate area for them to take on; Skynet hadn't sent as much as a single machine on patrol in the area for days.
The biggest threats were now further afield; Denver was slightly safer since Connor had taken out the airfield near Aurora, but was still full of Skynet's ground units. Since Connor had captured Area 51, only hours ago, James Ellison had already used the satellites to take photos of large parts of Colorado, and the news wasn't good. Pueblo County, Gunnison County, and Fort Collins were all confirmed to have numerous factories in place, churning out more machines. Ellison had found nearly thirty other suspected Skynet sites dotted around Colorado. Whilst John had been beating the tar out of Skynet wherever he went, the AI had been busy elsewhere, building up its forces in secret, right under their noses.
Factories seemed to be popping up everywhere now, but the survivors in those cities lacked supplies, training, and weapons to really do much about them. With Connor and the bulk of their force in Nevada, they lacked the manpower or the resources for a full scale assault. So Cheyenne Mountain maintained a defensive status whilst still fulfilling its role as the hub for worldwide resistance communications, and the remaining soldiers were kept busy running supplies to outlying resistance units, beefing them up so they could send out patrols and launch attacks of their own.
Until Connor came back they were stuck on supply duties, which although Burke knew were necessary, also proved to be extremely tedious. He had to grin when he thought about it; all the soldiers in Cheyenne Mountain wanted to fight, when most people simply ran and hid when the machines came. All the soldiers under Connor's command relished the opportunity for a fight. And it was entirely because of John Connor; wherever he went, people seemed to rally behind him. He'd given them all something that many had lost on Judgement Day. Hope. He'd shown them that the machines could be killed, that Skynet wasn't invincible.
Minutes later, several of the trucks were full, fuelled, and rolled out to their various destinations, along with their escort vehicles – armed with .50 cal machine guns and Stinger missiles. Burke noticed recruit Parker and a few others had seemingly decided they'd earned themselves a break and sat down to take swigs of water from their canteens. Burke decided to let it slide, just this once. They'd been working around the clock lately; if they weren't on duties like this one, they were stripping down their rifles and learning how they worked and how to clean them. And if they weren't doing that then they were subjected to longlectures on the various Skynet machines and how they operated.
"Sarge," Parker strolled up to the man casually, as if they were old friends. "So tell me, sarge, when do we get our first real mission?" Burke smiled again at the man's eagerness, but the grin was wiped from his face as he heard a faint, high pitched droning sound in the air.
"Shut up," Burke answered as he strained his ears to listen better.
"C'mon, Sarge, you can tell me."
"Quiet!" Burke growled. Parker saw the grim expression on his sergeant's face and fell silent. Burke recognised the sound after a few seconds; he'd heard it enough times in Afghanistan to recognise it anywhere. "Incoming," Burke spoke to the recruits as well as into his radio to the squads providing cover at the base perimeter. "Everyone inside, now!"
One thing Burke didn't need to teach any of the recruits was how to run and hide; they'd all survived in the ruins of Colorado for some time before either being rescued or making their way to Cheyenne Mountain, and had all learned fairly decent survival skills in a very short time. So he had no problem getting them all sprinting inside the nearest building; the dilapidated officer's mess which had been shot to pieces in the Fort Carson battle several months ago.
All the trainees – most likely out of instinct – bolted into the building and got down on the floor in the first room they entered; what had used to be a common room that now looked like a bomb had gone off inside it. Armchairs, sofas, and tables had all been shattered and debris was spilled across the floor. A pool table at the far end of one room had been split in half, most likely hit by a single 30mm round that had gone right through and exploded against the wall behind. The walls had large chunks gouged out from multiple 30mm hits and provided little protection from T-1s or T-2s. But they weren't what had Burke so worried.
"This is Sharpe; both squads have fallen back to the armoury. What's going on?"
"Predator overhead," Burke replied. "Stay indoors and don't move until I say. We can't let it see us."
"What's the big deal?" One of the recruits asked. "If it's only a Predator, it's probably unarmed. We've got Stingers; why not just shoot it down?"
"Because that gives us away to Skynet, idiot," Burke hissed. "Shooting it down tells Skynet we're here. Those things use infrared; you go outside and it'll see you before you even..." Burke trailed off mid sentence as he realised the trucks outside would still be hot from their engines being on; they'd be lit up like a Christmas tree to the Predator and Skynet would realise without a doubt that Fort Carson was still in operation. Burke switched his radio channel to talk with Cheyenne Mountain.
"This is Burke at Fort Carson. We've got a UAV overhead and I'm pretty sure it knows we're here. Tell Lieutenant Ellison that Fort Carson is compromised."
Las Vegas
John stirred slightly as he felt movement next to him, but remained asleep. Locked into Cameron's embrace; their arms wrapped around each other, he always felt safe, secure. The happiest, most blissful moments of John Connor's life had been spent with Cameron in his arms. Cameron heard several pairs of boots stomping on the ground, approaching their room. She disentangled herself from him and pulled away, sitting upright before getting to her feet and smoothing her clothes down to get rid of any creases. It was better, she thought, to appear as machine like as possible and let the other soldiers think of her as little more than a drone; they'd see her as less of a threat that way. The other soldiers would be able to understand her standing guard over John, but they'd react badly, she knew, if they suspected her and John being intimate.
"Cameron?" John mumbled, still asleep as he grasped at where she had been moments ago, instinctually reaching out for her.
Cameron unceremoniously tugged on the zip to his sleeping bag and pulled it open, the rush of cold air into the bag instantly awoke him and he sat bolt upright. "Cam, what the..."
"Someone's coming," Cameron said as someone banged loudly on the other side of the door. John shot up and stumbled out of his sleeping bag, trying to make himself look a bit more presentable and less like he'd only just woken up.
"Connor! Open up!" Perry's voice boomed from the other side. John glanced to Cameron, wondering what this was about now. Their eyes met and for once he couldn't read her expression; she was blank as a slate. He hated when she did that, even if she felt it was necessary. John opened the door and found himself face to face with Perry
"What, no goons this time?" Jon smirked, noting that Perry had come alone for once. He dropped his grin when he saw the deadly serious expression on Perry's face.
"Connor, we need to talk," Perry replied. John moved aside and let the captain into the room. Perry sat down on a chair next to the desk, while John sat on the couch they'd slept on until a moment ago. Cameron chose to stand. "Lieutenant Baum was attacked last night." John's face dropped like a stone as he took in Perry's words.
"Is he..." John couldn't even finish the question; not caring if he was showing any sign of weakness in front of Perry this time.
"He's alive, just," Perry answered, noticing the slight sigh of relief from John; he knew Connor and Baum were close. Their relationship was almost as much of a mystery as John and the machine that stood stock still next to him.
"What happened to him?" John asked, getting over the shock that Derek had been attacked.
"She did," Perry glared at Cameron. "She beat him almost to death last night; he never stood a chance. I told you she's dangerous."
"If I attacked Derek, he'd be dead," Cameron countered, saying nothing else to defend herself.
John grimaced in annoyance at Perry, bringing up the same argument yet again; the man was like a broken record. John was sick of people having it in for Cameron; baying for her 'blood' and now blaming her without anything to go on, just because of what she was. John realised that even though he'd felt hurt at Cameron pretending there was nothing between them when he'd wanted to have it out in the open, he realised now that she was right. They wouldn't have had a chance.
"I'm getting pissed off at the same old story, Perry," John groaned. "You come in here and shout off a load of crap without anything to back it up. She was here all night, with me."
"She was seen last night looking for Derek," Perry interrupted. "Private Benedict from Utah National Guard spoke to her last night; she was looking for him. Five minutes later, Benedict heard gunfire and ran outside to find Derek in a heap on the ground." Cameron could tell John was angry, even if he hid it well. His jaw had set in stone, nostrils flared and his eyes had narrowed after Perry had told him this new, incriminating, information.
"And you just assume it was Cameron," John countered.
"Who else is it going to be?" Perry demanded. "I'm not a moron, Connor; we all know there was no love lost between them – not that that thing can love. And I'm guessing Baum knew she was a machine all along as well. Who else would have attacked Baum, really?"
"I wouldn't put it past you or Ryan to pull this kind of stunt to set her up," John said coldly as he stood up.
"Goddamn it, Connor," Perry shouted at him, exasperated, as he rose out of his seat to meet John. Perry was actually offended that John would accuse him of sinking that low. Ryan was ranting about a coup, taking command himself because he was convinced Connor's judgement had been compromised. Although Perry agreed with that somewhat, he'd come alone and unarmed, hoping to make Connor see sense and do what needed to be done. "Baum wasn't just beaten up; he had the shit kicked out of him! He's barely alive. He fired off half a clip before he went down; no blood, no bodies. Yesterday I saw her take a blast to the face from one of those machines' mini-guns and it didn't even slow her down. Who else, Connor? Who else could have done it?"
John was speechless for a moment. Perry had a point there. Derek was the most experienced soldier in the resistance; the veteran of two Judgement Days, with enough training and skill to put most special forces to shame. It would have taken two or three men to take him out and he'd have put up a hell of a fight before going down. It didn't look good for Cameron; he didn't want to admit it but everything pointed towards Cameron being guilty. Naturally, everyone else on the base would have already come to that conclusion. Despite what John had said a moment ago, he couldn't imagine Perry going that far to get rid of Cameron. Ryan would in a heartbeat, John knew, but Perry wouldn't have stood for it. The fact that he'd come to John alone had told him that much. As much as Perry wanted Cameron gone, John knew, he wouldn't break the rules in order to do it. Perry was a nothing, if not a straight arrow.
"Connor, we all know she did it; why are you defending it? She's a liability, she's compromised. She attacked one of your best men, and you don't think we should scrap her?"
"We don't do summary justice," John answered. "And I meant what I said last night; she's the greatest asset we have, she's taken out more machines than any five guys you can name." John looked at Cameron from the corner of his eye. She just sat there, unmoving, not saying a word to defend herself. He wished she'd say something, anything, to contest Perry. Not that Perry would believe anything that came out of her mouth, but the fact she didn't even try made her seem guilty; something she didn't seem to understand. He'd have to defend her from the troops, just as she did him from the machines. It was a fair trade, he guessed.
"I'll find out what happened," John said blankly to Perry as he gestured for the captain to leave. "In the meantime, keep the troops – and Ryan – in line. Don't let them do anything stupid. I'm holding you responsible if anything happens to Cameron."
"Yes, sir, Perry answered, rolling his eyes at that last part. "Just keep that thing on a short leash," Perry grumbled before he left the room and stormed off elsewhere.
John closed the door after he'd gone and turned round and picked up his assault rifle and cleaning kit, and sat down on the couch in silence as he worked; taking the weapon apart before wiping grit and carbon residue from the moving parts and then cleaning the barrel. Cameron watched him as he worked, confused as to his silence, and the fact that he didn't even look at her while he cleaned the weapon. She knew she'd made him angry; he never spoke when he was angry or upset.
"You've not spoken in eight minutes," she said nervously.
"Why, Cameron?" John said simply. Cameron stood in front of him and took his hand in hers, which he pulled away from. "Why did you sneak off last night?"
"I spoke to Derek."
"About what?" John asked.
"Last night."
"What about last night, Cameron?"
"When you defended me from Lieutenant Colonel Ryan and Captain Perry, Derek refused to help you. You were distressed because of him; I couldn't let it continue."
"So you decided to sneak off in the middle of the night – without telling me. And now Derek's been beaten almost to death..."
"I didn't do it," Cameron cut him off before he could say anything else. John said nothing more until he finished cleaning and oiling his rifle and had it reassembled.
"I'm going to see how Derek is," John finally said to her as he went to leave. Cameron got up to follow him but he turned back and stopped her. "I want you to stay away from Derek," John told her, ignoring the hurt look on her face as he spoke. Cameron didn't know what to say; she'd done what she thought was best for John, to stop Derek from causing him pain and distress. She hated seeing John upset or angry; John being unhappy made her unhappy, and her trying to help had made it worse.
John opened the door and came face to face with Davenport, hand still in the air from where he was about to knock.
"Sir, there's an urgent call for you on the radio. It's Ellison from Cheyenne."
"Thank you, Davenport," John replied. "I take it you heard about last night?"
"Yeah, it's spread round the base like wildfire," Davenport said.
"What do you think?"
"I don't buy it," Davenport said truthfully. He'd gotten to know Cameron, as much as she'd let anyone other than John know her, that was. He saw what John had meant by her being more human than he'd have ever thought, he saw how willing she seemed to make John happy, and he couldn't imagine beating the crap out of his uncle would make him particularly pleased. His gut instinct told him Cameron didn't do it, even if he couldn't come up with another explanation.
"Good, you stay here and guard Cameron," John said as he handed his rifle to Davenport before he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.
Davenport sat down on the couch, placing the rifle on the floor as he set his sight on the coffee machine on the desk. Cameron had made it for John before she'd climbed back into his sleeping bag, as she did for John most mornings; but with Perry's arrival earlier she'd not even had the chance to offer him any.
Davenport took the mug from his canteen and poured it full of the hot black liquid, taking several packets of sugar from his own pack and emptying the contents into the brew. Davenport was considered somewhat a freak by the other soldiers, because he was the only one who actually liked army issue coffee. The others all complained it was bland and tasted like liquid cardboard, but Davenport couldn't get enough of the stuff. He had no problem admitting to anyone he had a mild caffiene addiction, as well as his well known sweet tooth.
"Want one?" Davenport raised the mug to Cameron, realising she hadn't spoken since he'd arrived.
"No," Cameron replied blankly as Davenport took a sip.
"Your loss," Davenport shrugged, taking another hit from his mug and finishing it in one go. "So..." he started, trying to make conversation with her but not knowing what the hell to say. Even now he still felt awkward around Cameron; less because she was a machine than because she was so hard to have a conversation with. He didn't know how John managed it; he guessed she only opened up when she was alone with Connor. "Looking forward to going back home?"
Cameron looked at him briefly before turning away. She didn't want to talk to anyone but John. John didn't trust her, she knew. She could see on his face and in his eyes that he didn't trust her. She realised his facial expression and the tone of his voice had been similar to the weeks and months after she'd tried to kill him. He'd been cold and impatient towards her then, but she'd been unable to fully understand his resentment at the time. Now she knew why John was angry, why he didn't trust her. But she didn't know how to make it right. She turned away from Davenport so he wouldn't see the single tear rolling down her cheek.
John marched into the airport's control tower, unconsciously returning the enthusiastic salutes the soldiers gave him. Despite everything that had happened since the end of the battle in Area 51- all of it concerning Cameron, and despite dissent amongst Perry and Ryan, the rank and file soldiers all seemed to revere John; his victory in Area 51, capturing a major Skynet base and foiling Skynet's satellite plans, stuck out to them more than any higher echelon arguments over Cameron.
"General, your Lieutenant Ellison is on the line," a corporal gestured to a seat near a large bank of radio equipment. John sat down and picked up the microphone.
"James," John started.
"Connor, glad to hear your voice," Ellison replied, the transmission so clear that he could have been in the same room as John acted as testament to the success of the Area 51 mission. "We've got a problem, Connor."
"What's up?" John asked, wishing Ellison would just call him 'John.'
"You want the bad news first, or the worse?"
"Tell me what's going on, Ellison," John grumbled. He'd only been up a few minutes and it was already a crappy day; he couldn't see how things could get any worse. He wasn't in the mood to play games.
"Okay, here's the bad news; we managed to hook into the satellites you and Cameron reprogrammed and found what looks like Skynet factories spread all over Colorado. We've confirmed eight smaller factories already and we've got teams out trying to confirm the rest. Skynet's been building them right under our damn noses. We've also lost contact with Jessica Morgan's unit in Denver, so we've got no news on Skynet from there."
"And what's the worse news?" John asked, dreading what the answer could be.
"We have reason to believe Fort Carson is compromised. A recon drone flew over last night and might have seen our men during a resupply operation."
Crap, John thought; the only word that fit the situation right now. He'd been stupid to think things couldn't get any worse; the Area 51 mission had been screwed from start to finish. Over sixty dead, Cameron's true nature exposed, Derek being beaten nearly to death, and now this. John felt it all piling up on him; he didn't know how much longer he could keep going like this. Since he'd left Cheyenne Mountain things had gone from bad to worse and he felt himself losing his grip on everything. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, and then spoke.
"Did the supplies go out?"
"Yeah, we sent them out once the drone had gone. But if Fort Carson's a bust, it's only a matter of time before Skynet figures out we're in Cheyenne."
John stayed on the radio to Ellison for over an hour; he ordered a search team to head to Denver and discussed bringing in reinforcements from other units in Colorado to bolster the mountain's defences in case Skynet launched an all out attack on the mountain. The only problem with that, John knew, was it led to a siege mentality; they could beef up Cheyenne Mountain's defences all they liked, but it did nothing for their offensive campaign and left Skynet free to roam the rest of the state unchallenged.
Cheyenne Mountain was far too undermanned, and if the civilian volunteers were called on to defend the base now, they'd be torn to shreds by the machines. They needed reinforcements, but pulling in manpower from the other units in Colorado would leave them undermanned and unable to operate properly. John realised he had to return to Colorado. Ryan would be pissed but he didn't care; he was going to go back on his promise to take out Nellis air base, but Cheyenne Mountain was far more important that Las Vegas, or even Area 51. If they lost Cheyenne it would seriously damage his ability to coordinate with resistance units across the world. They'd be just as isolated as if they'd never taken Area 51; back to square one. John couldn't let that happen.
When John returned to his quarters he found Davenport sipping coffee while Cameron stared off into space, an uneasy silence between them. She looked at John as he closed the door and saw the drained, hopeless look on his face appear as soon as the door shut.
"John?"
"Skynet found our guys at Fort Carson," John explained. "Davenport, go find Perry and tell him we're going back to Colorado, today."
"I'm on it," Davenport said as he finished off the coffee and made his way out.
"Oh, and Davenport," John said just before he left the room.
"Yes sir?"
"Thank you." John hoped the lieutenant knew he meant for the night before - defending John and Cameron during the 'debate' with Ryan and Perry – as much as he meant it for guarding Cameron.
"Anytime," Davenport replied as he marched out to find Perry. Once he'd gone, John turned to Cameron again.
"I'm going to see Derek," John said.
"I'll stay here," Cameron offered, remembering that John wanted her to stay away from Derek.
"No, you're coming with me. Cameron, you stay with me at all times from now on," John said coldly.
"You've never given me an order before," Cameron replied, a little hurt. She'd gladly follow any order John gave her, but she'd felt special that he'd always made a point to never order her and treated her as an equal, and now that was gone.
"I've never had to before," John sighed. He was livid at Cameron for going behind his back and taking things into her own hands like that; they'd been a team for so long now, shared everything with each other and kept no secrets – classified future information notwithstanding, and she'd betrayed his trust. He was angry, and very upset with both her and himself. He'd sworn he'd never give her an order; she wasn't one of his soldiers, nor was she simply a machine, like Derek and his mom had always thought. He loved her and saw her as a partner, not a subordinate. He'd crossed a line he never thought he'd cross, and he felt a white hot stab of guilt in his chest because of it. He had to force himself to push it down and ignore it for now; Cameron's feelings were the least of his worries at the moment.
John threw open the door and stepped out into the corridor. Cameron went to grab her rifle and gear when John stopped her.
"No guns, Cameron. I don't want you armed." Cameron's eyes fell to the floor. John didn't trust her anymore, she knew. She didn't know what she'd done wrong; she'd tried to help John, tried to stop Derek from causing John any more stress, and now John didn't trust her. She cared nothing for what anyone else though; only John. His last comment snapped something inside her, however. She shoved John roughly and pinned him against he wall.
"What the hell?" John asked, incredulous.
"You don't trust me," Cameron said blankly. Her machine eyes glowed bright blue with anger behind the deep brown organic orbs, causing John to swallow nervously. Even though she'd never actually harm him, she'd could still make him hurt badly; he painfully remembered the mother of all slaps she'd given him for getting himself shot, but her anger had been justified then; he'd been in the wrong.
"Why should I trust you?" John asked her. "You lied to me."
"I trust you."
"I'm not the one sneaking off at night, Cameron."
"I tried to help. I spoke to Derek..."
"And look what happened!" John snapped back at her. "Derek's lying half dead in that infirmary and almost everyone here wants you dead."
"I didn't hurt Derek," Cameron insisted. John didn't bother replying; he just pushed her out of the way and walked out.
Cameron quickly followed John and caught up, keeping her face as blank as possible and saying nothing as she fell into line just behind him. She wanted to make it right, to make him trust her again. If he didn't trust her, then he couldn't love her any more, she thought. She ran over dozens of possible scenarios in her mind to come up with a way of making it perfect between them again, but she came up with nothing. She struggled to suppress her tear ducts so she wouldn't cry. John would probably think she was simulating it, anyway, she thought.
In silence the pair marched down to the airport's tiny infirmary, crammed full of soldiers with injuries of varying degrees; ranging from minor shrapnel wounds and broken bones to third degree burns, bullet wounds, and severed limbs; all casualties of John's attack on Area 51 – a painful reminder of how costly this war was already.
None of the guilt John felt at seeing men under his command bloodied and broken even compared to what he felt at the last bed he saw at the end of the room. Derek lay unconscious, beaten to a pulp. His face was a swollen mess of purple-blue bruises and ugly red lacerations. Bandages wrapped around his head indicated some kind of injury, and John could only hope that it wasn't fatal. The rest of Derek's body hadn't fared very well, either. His torso had been stripped of clothing and bandages covered his chest; his right leg was held in place by a makeshift splint and wrapped up in yet more bandages.
John found himself unable to say anything until an army doctor approached.
"Is he going to pull through?" John asked.
"I think so," the doctor replied, causing John to exhale slightly in relief. "He's in a bad state; he's got a major concussion and hairline fracture to the skull, five broken ribs, soft tissue damage all over his body, and his leg's broken in two places. He went down swinging," the medic said, glaring at Cameron.
"When will he wake up?" Cameron asked.
"Why do you care," he snorted in reply, voice dripping with disgust.
"Answer her question," John snapped angrily. He'd had more than enough crap to deal with today without some smartass doctor adding his two cents.
"It could be five minutes, it could be a week. I don't know."
"Did he say anything when he was brought in?" John asked.
"As a matter of fact, he did. He was barely conscious but he was mumbling about 'the metal.' I think we all know who that is," the doctor again glared hatefully at Cameron, who just returned a blank stare to the man until he turned away, freaked out slightly by Cameron's blank gaze. John knew from experience that nobody could beat a Terminator in a staring contest.
Before John could tell the doctor to back off, Ryan – one arm in a sling after Cameron had crushed his hand - burst through the doors and made a beeline for John and Cameron. "Connor! Why isn't that tin can scrap yet?"
"I'm in charge here," John retorted. "You follow my orders!" It wasn't lost on John that he'd had to pull rank more in the few days they'd been in Las Vegas than the three and a half months since Judgement Day.
"What's wrong with you?" Ryan demanded. "That...thing nearly kills one of your best men and you keep it alive? Not only that, but it's not even under guard, for crying out loud."
"We don't know who did this," John said evenly.
"Derek's awake," Cameron said, being the only one to notice his stirring. It took a long moment for Derek to open his eyes; he'd been given plenty of morphine to dull the pain, not that it helped much. He felt like another Judgement Day had gone off, this time located entirely inside his skull. He tried to sit up but couldn't find the strength. He gave up after his second attempt and settled for staying put.
"Derek, you okay?" John asked.
"Where... where am I?"
"The infirmary – or what passes for one around here," John answered, earning an angry stare from Ryan for insulting his home.
"This is the worst hangover I've ever had," Derek tried to joke – a rare occurrence for the usually bitter resistance fighter, but it raised a slight smile from John.
"At least your nose isn't broken this time."
"Must be the only thing that isn't," Derek replied, chuckling slightly until his ribs dug into his lungs, causing searing pain in his chest and forcing him into a coughing fit for several minutes. John moved to help him but Derek feebly pushed him back.
"Derek; what happened last night?" John asked when he settled down again. "Who attacked you?"
Derek closed his eyes, struggling to remember what happened. His head was killing him and he felt nauseous as hell. In all the years he'd spent fighting machines with the resistance in the future, he'd never been hurt so badly before; he briefly wondered if something in his brain had come loose as he tried to remember, but eventually it came to him. He remembered bright glowing eyes moving towards him, lightning quick, striking out with speed and strength far beyond anything human.
"The metal," Derek answered, and all eyes fell on Cameron.