(3) Salty Breezes

by MacGuffin65

The Connor Team is on a trip around the world on the mega yacht "Rising Star" - a honeymoon for all the newlywed couples and their friends. So... it's just a vacation, right? Or is it? The Connor Team wouldn't be the Connor Team if new adventures weren't lurking for them in almost every port. Adventures that'll bring them many new friends - but also new enemies...

24. The Horn of Africa

CHAPTER 24: "THE HORN OF AFRICA "

---

Sunday, December 14th, 2008 – 04:12 p.m.

Funchal, Madeira

Mahesh Bokhari stood at the pier and looked out at sea.

"Still no news from what happened to DeVooght and his ship?" Abdul Al Hani asked, standing next to him.

"No," Bokhari replied, "no news. The authorities know nothing and there were system failures during the night, so they didn't notice him leaving. The Barracuda disappeared off the face of the earth. No tracking signal, no radar record. And the treasure is out of reach for us now."

"Do you think he got cold feet and ran?"

"I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he steered his boat on a cliff and it sank. We can only guess. I'm quite sure he'll show up again somewhere, then we'll question him. I don't like to lose."

"We must not be associated with this. My family and I already have enough trouble because of my dead brother and his activities."

"No one except DeVooght knows that I financed him. And nobody but me knows that you are my partner. I will remain silent and I recommend that you do the same."

"Still… losing five million dollars this way hurts."

"Yes… but only briefly. What hurts me more is that now Catherine Weaver and Isaak Sirko will be the ones who take profit from it all. Their reputation in the public eye will rise greatly. Fucking philanthropists…"

"Wait, what?" Al Hani asked. "Isaak Sirko?"

"Yes… you know him?"

"Not personally… but my brother had met with him shortly before he died. He didn't think much of Sirko. He said he was a bon vivant who had no respect. My father and I always had the feeling that he might have something to do with the death of my brother and the downfall of Kaliba."

"What are you saying, Mr. Al-Hani?"

"I say that maybe we should investigate what really happened here after all."

"Then maybe we should work together not only on a business level. It looks like we share the same problem: Isaak Sirko and Catherine Weaver."

"Are you proposing a partnership, Bokhari?"

"Let's start with an exchange of information for mutual benefit. Maybe we can help each other out."

"You surely are aware of the fact that I've lost my information network in the United States ever since my brother's activities were exposed there."

"Oh, I'm quite sure we can help you out with that. We have our people everywhere, and Catherine Weaver's been on our radar for quite some time now – ever since her involvement in the uncovering of the Shadow Council became known."

"But I assume you're not willing to share your information about her just like that, are you?"

"Of course, quit pro quo."

"What do you want?"

"Two things. Firstly, we've been looking for a replacement for your brother as a member of the 51 Society. You'd be an excellent candidate, with your connections. After your brother's death, you're the heir to the throne when your father dies."

"Hmmm… I'm not sure I want to be a member of your exclusive club – especially not when I have to represent my country someday."

"I'm sure we can work something out. We're not the mafia, you can join and leave again, if you decide to do so."

"What's the second thing?"

"We'd like to have a liaison in your country. Someone we can contact – with close connections to the royal family but not too close."

"I know the right man: Faisal El Banai."

"General El Banai? The chief of staff of your armed forces?"

"And my brother-in-law."

"An interesting choice. We've already had dealings with him in the past."

"I know, that's why I suggested him. He'd be the perfect liaison between the 51 Society and the royal family, the ideal candidate: ambitious but loyal. He's stuck in a position that gives him a title but not much to do. Faisal is looking for new challenges, and he's been sucking up to my father for quite some time now. We kept him busy with an arms deal my brother came up with before he died. If it all goes well, said arms deal will give us a big lead in weapons technology."

"You're talking about the drones?"

Abdul Al Hani looked at Mahesh Bokhari appraisingly.

"What do you know about the drones?"

"Firstly, we read the news. Everyone knows about the drone that crashed into Catherine Weaver's office. Also, I'm good friends with Ludwig Ziegler, remember? He helped you setting up the production line, didn't he? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Nobody will learn about your illegal factory in Germany. What the 51 Society learns, remains within the 51 Society."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"As I already said, we have a vacancy to fill. We'd appreciate you taking your brother's place."

"I'll have to think about that. I'm not sure if I share your goals and principles."

"Take your time, there's no hurry. But maybe I can motivate you to join us by helping you find out about your brother's mysterious death in that plane crash in the Mojave Desert. It left many questions unanswered."

"So, you've been investigating it too?"

"Of course. We hate losing members to mysterious 'accidents'."

"What exactly are you suggesting to, as you say, 'motivate' me?"

"I already contacted my number two, Steven Rogers."

"Ah... yes, Faisal has already done business with him. But I didn't know he was a member of your club."

"Of course not. Our members list is being kept secret. Steven has the contacts to help you with your problems. For example, he found out that the 'Rising Star' is going to Morocco next. They'll visit Casablanca and Marrakesh. If you fly there directly from here, then I suppose there's time for preparations. Steven has a contact in Marrakesh, a man called Kazim. He's a local crook who's running a gang of pickpockets – not exactly trustworthy but he'll do everything for money and is intelligent enough not to mess with us. He might be able to help you."

Al Hani looked grimly.

"I will accept your offer. I will fly to Marrakesh and contact that Kazim. And then I'll have a little 'chat' with Isaak Sirko - in private. If he has anything to do with my brother's death, he will soon regret ever having met him."

-0-

---

Wednesday, February 4th, 2009 – 11:53 a.m.

Djibouti - Seven weeks later

The café was full of people, the air stuffy and filled with smoke. A Caucasian man sat alone at a table in the corner, sipping on a glass of sweet tea. Nobody paid attention to him. Moments later, another man entered the bar, a dark-skinned African in a white kaftan. He spotted the Caucasian and walked over to his table, sitting down on the chair opposite of him. The waiter put a second glass of tea on the table, then walked away. The Caucasian frowned.

"They know me here," the African explained. "I drink tea in this establishment on a regular basis."

"I wasn't assuming they accept phone orders in advance," the Caucasian replied.

Both men looked at each other, then began laughing.

"Long time no see," the African said. "It's good to see you, Steven."

"It's been a while, Ismail," Steven Rogers agreed. "Why did you choose this place? It's crowded."

"It's a meeting place for smugglers and pirates. Tap-proof. The owner has a jammer, so there's no cell phone reception either. And the authorities are bribed, so that police never show up here. Everyone's minding their own business. We're here completely among ourselves, so to speak. Also, they know me here and know better than paying any attention to what I'm doing. Now, what is this about, Steven? Why this secret meeting?"

Instead of responding to this, Steven Rogers pushed a transparent folder with documents and photos across the table.

"I need you to do a job for me," he said. "You and your pirate friends."

Ismail took the folder and flipped through it with a frown.

"Who are these people?"

"Not for you to worry. Let's say they're adversaries we'd like to get rid of."

"Don't try to play me for a fool, Steven. This yacht is the Rising Star, and it's owned by Isaak Sirko. He's married to Catherine Weaver, one of the richest and most influential women in America, and one of your main competitors. Those are people you don't mess with."

"Okay, Ismail, I see you've done your homework. But neither Weaver nor Sirko are on board right now, don't worry. Those people are just guests who rented the yacht."

"Don't bullshit me, Steven! Nobody who's traveling on Isaak Sirko's yacht, is unimportant."

Steven Rogers sighed.

"All right, they're business partners of Catherine Weaver. But that's all, I swear."

"Security?"

"No dedicated personnel on board. They feel they don't need it."

Ismail raised an eyebrow.

"Weapons?"

"Yes, very likely."

"What kind?"

"Unknown. At least not yet. Could be anything from pistols to RPG's. It would be your task to find out where they store them."

"So, it's risky," Ismail replied and pushed the folder back. "My men only have rusty old boats, AK-47's, and ancient machine guns. They became pirates because they have to feed their families, I won't risk their lives just like that. I'd need a good reason."

He reached for his glass of tea and took a sip. Steven Rogers smiled and pointed at a briefcase that stood on the floor next to him.

"The good reason you need is ten million dollars."

Ismail froze in mid motion before he put the glass back down again.

"Ten million?"

"Yes. Five million now, and you can keep those no matter what. Another five million if the operation is completed successfully. This should compensate for any possible negative outcome."

Ismail hesitated for a moment.

"Getting rid of these people must mean a lot to you," he then said with suspicion in his voice. "What's the real story behind this?"

"As I told you, that's none of your business."

"Fair enough. But it's a crazy idea. All hell will break lose. They're rich Americans, and the Americans have war ships in the area, as well as other NATO countries. They monitor the sea routes around the Horn of Africa."

"Let that be my problem. Besides, since when are you interested in such things, my friend? Even if all hell breaks loose, it won't reach you here in Djibouti."

Ismail rubbed his three-day beard and looked around the smoke-filled, crowded café. Traditionally, these cafés were for men only. And they drank tea, played backgammon, or smoked water pipes while minding their own business.

Steven didn't know it but fact was also that they were just about to smuggle a load of weapons and explosives from Somalia to Yemen in two boats, so the yacht was practically on their way. Ismail leaned forward and pulled the briefcase over to his side of the table.

"I hope I won't sell my soul to the devil with this."

"Don't worry. If all goes well, you're going to lead a cozy life here with at least five million dollars. Ten even, if you're successful. Plus, you'll gain some new friends in Abu Maskar soon, I'll make sure of that."

"Abu Maskar? What are you talking about?"

"Some in the royal family of Khamasar will be very grateful if those people disappear."

"The royal family, huh? They had some really bad press lately thanks to that nuclear warhead Kaliba brought to Los Angeles. Were those people on board somehow involved in that?"

"Again, none of your business."

"All right, keep your secrets. But why do you need me? I lead an organization of smugglers and pirates. Don't you and your 51 Society have their own resources to pull off operations like this?"

"We do. But these are special circumstances."

Ismail squinted his eyes.

"They don't know," he stated with a mischievous grin, "your friends in the 51 Society don't know anything about this. You're on a solo run, am I right?"

Steven Rogers sighed and leaned back.

"Unfortunately, they're still undecided, and time's running out. Once the Rising Star is in the Persian Gulf, we won't be able to get to them so easily anymore. And sadly, Mahesh Bokhari has turned out to be a wimp. Therefore, I have decided to take things in my own hands. And as a bonus, it'll give me an opportunity to take Bokhari's place as number one if everything goes as planned."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Steven. We've done a lot of weapons deals together in the past, but this is a different league. Catherine Weaver has excellent connections in Washington. I don't want us to end up on the CIA's wanted list. "

"Let that be my concern. You'll find everything you need to know in that folder. Consider it a challenge, Ismail. I know you love a challenge."

Steven Rogers reached for his own glass of tea and took a sip. Ismail grabbed the folder again and flipped through it.

"Pretty girls. Are these pictures recent?"

"Taken two days ago in Hurghada. I was able to smuggle one of my men on board who also works as a photographer."

"Capable man?"

"You'll find out soon how capable."

Ismail sighed, then hid the folder into the depths of his kaftan.

"All right, Steven. But only because we're old friends."

Ismail was beginning to stand up, but Steven Rogers reached for his arm and held him back.

"And remember," he said, "just do what's written in there. No stupid attempt to hijack the ship in an idiotic ransom foolery, or to get your hand on the women. Tell your men to keep their distance. Do not underestimate them by any means, it would be a fatal mistake."

Ismail frowned.

"You're hiding something from me, Steven. Who are these people?"

"Don't worry about it. Just do what I say, and everything will be fine."

-0-

Thursday, February 5th, 2009 – 11:25 p.m.

Day 77 of our journey

It's been a while since I came to write something in my diary. We've been busy. And we've had an amazing, eye-opening trip through Egypt – in more than just one way. We received confirmation from John Henry that the transfer of Khufu's consciousness was successful. Catherine has called for a video conference of the whole team tomorrow after breakfast. She said that Sonya Hawkins will also take part. I'm wondering what that will be about.

Things are finally back to normal. 'Normal' meaning we're back at sea, on our own again, heading for our next destination, the emirates in the Persian Gulf where we'll stop in Dubai. We'll be avoiding Khamasar on our way there, of course, as that is the home country of Kaliba and the ruling Al Hani family. We might have Abdul Al Hani in our bag but he's just one man and the royal family is huge. So, we decided to better stay away from Khamasar and its capital Abu Maskar.

The captain has prepared us for the fact that in the Gulf of Aden at the Horn of Africa, attacks of Somali pirates are to be expected, who are especially after rich westerners on their yachts. However, should there be an attack, we are well prepared for it. ACE will be on guard until we have crossed the area. Should pirates dare to approach us, they will quickly regret it.

Maybe I'm just imagining things, but after the photographers and their crews left the ship, a sigh of relief went through the whole team. Thank God we all were not on board when the photo shoots took place. Only Olga was there. The rest of us preferred not to be around for understandable reasons. Even though our trip is not quite as secret anymore as it was at the beginning, we want to avoid it being made public. And of course as soon as we were on our own again, all women immediately shed their clothes. The weather is excellent, so we spent most of the day on deck to get a tan again - we've lost most of it since Scotland. Note to self: Next time we do such a journey, bring tanning beds.

Olga has now fulfilled her contractual obligations, she has no more photo sessions scheduled for the next two months. Louise is very pleased about this. One of the photographers, a friend of Olga's from Saint Petersburg, has brought her passport. Now she can fly back home at any time, should it become necessary. But she has made it clear that she wants to stay with us until further notice and we have nothing against it. I don't remember when exactly it happened, but it feels like she's become a member of the team by now. It'll be hard for everyone to part ways at the end of our journey…

Our day trip to Petra in Jordan was exhausting but worthwhile. Sometimes I wish that all these old ruins and monuments we saw would be rebuilt true to the original as they looked like in their heyday. The Palace of Knossos, The Pyramids of Giza, the Temple of Karnak, and the desert city of Petra - what a breathtaking sight it would be to see all these ancient places in their former glory.

April and Gary are still in Hurghada. They have already offered the interview with Louise to several media outlets, and it seems there is a lot of interest in it. I hope that everything will turn out well for both of them and that this will become the restart of their journalistic career. In the not unlikely case that the authenticity of the interview may be questioned, Louise has already informed her parents in Laguna Beach and authorized them to confirm its authenticity on her behalf.

There's something that concerns us, though.

According to Gary's statement, he got the information about us and the 'Rising Star' from an anonymous informant - someone who claims to be close to us. We can't imagine that one of our friends and acquaintances would do such a thing. Which brings us to the question: Who is this mysterious tipster? And what might he or she do next now that April and Gary's mission has failed? Do we have to be worried? Only time will tell.

John and his now five women seem to have settled down well in their relationship. During yesterday's dinner, they dropped the bomb and informed everyone about the actual nature of their relationship. The revelation that Savannah and Allie, in order to be close to John and have a sexual relationship with him, have asked to become his love slaves, initially shocked everyone. But when they saw how happy the two girls were with the arrangement they had proposed themselves, no one wanted to judge. After all, games of dominance and submission have always been an essential part of sexual relationships. And as long as no one is forced to do anything against their will, I think that's fine.

And John… John is as happy as he can be. Who wouldn't with a harem of five beautiful women who love him to bits? I'm happy for him. His childhood was no walk in the park. And I'm not much good as a caring mother. We were always on the run, always on the move, he could never form lasting friendships. Maybe this is all some kind of compensation now? I can only hope that their relationship will continue to be so harmonious.

We now have a six-day sea voyage ahead of us, during which we circumnavigate almost the entire Arabian Peninsula counterclockwise. Enough time to relax once again. I'm looking forward to it.

-0-

Friday, February 6th, 2009 – 09:06 a.m.

Bab-el-Mandeb Strait

While the Rising Star plowed through the light swell in the waters of the strait that separated the Red Sea from the Gulf of Aden, everyone gathered in the large salon, which had once again been converted into a video conference room, with several monitors mounted on the wall. The whole team was present.

"Any idea what's so important that Sonya's joining the video conference?" Anne asked.

John shrugged.

"No idea. Maybe a new development concerning Ben Bridger?"

"Or maybe she'll relay a message from the new President?" Lauren speculated.

"She's probably just curious how we're doing," Sarah said, "after all, a lot has happened since the last time we met with her."

The screens lit up and the familiar faces of Catherine Weaver, Zoe Kruger, Alistair Norbury, John Henry, James Ellison, and Sonya Hawkins showed up on the different monitors.

"Good morning everyone," Catherine began with a smiling face.

"Good evening to you," John replied, also with a smile. "It's still Thursday in L.A., isn't it?"

"Indeed, it is."

"It's Friday already in Washington, though," Sonya added.

"I'm sorry to keep you up so late," John replied. "How's it going? Are you settling in well?"

"To be honest, not much of a difference. The biggest change is that I've gone from being an unofficial advisor to an official advisor. I surely hope you have a good reason to keep me up at this time of night. I had a tough day and the next one won't be better. The previous government has left us quite a mess."

"Let's not waste too much time with pleasantries then," Zoe said, "and get straight to the point. Catherine, I think you better bring them up to date."

John frowned.

"Up to date? Did something happen?"

"After a fashion," Catherine replied, "there's no way to soften the blow, so I just say it as it is: Khufu turned out to be a clone of Skynet."

For a second, there was silence.

"WHAT!?" Sarah then exclaimed unbelieving and rose from her armchair.

"Skynet created a clone of itself, copied it onto a cyborg chip, and sent it back to ancient Egypt in a cyborg body, where it became Pharaoh Khufu and built the Great Pyramid."

Again, a moment of shocked silence.

"Are you fucking kidding us?" Derek then asked, sounding furious, and rose from his chair as well. "Are you saying we were in a hotel room in Giza together with Skynet without knowing?"

"Right now would be the moment for everyone to laugh about the joke," Savannah added, trying to sound unconcerned but failing miserably at it.

"It's no joke," John Henry assured. "Before I transferred his consciousness onto his new Triple-Eight chip, I made a deep scan of his old chip and discovered that Khufu was no ordinary A.I. but…"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Sarah interrupted him, looking livid, "before you transferred his consciousness? Are you going to tell us you did not immediately destroy it?"

"We considered destroying his chip," Zoe admitted, "but after discussing it, we decided to proceed as planned – under extremely high security measures, of course."

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!?" Sarah shouted as loud as she could, causing every human member of the Connor team to jump. "YOU HAVE SKYNET THERE AND INSTEAD OF DESTROYING IT, YOU GAVE IT A NEW BODY!?"

"Please calm down, Sarah," James Ellison said, "you weren't here, you didn't witness how… he behaved. He's not Skynet anymore. The decades he spent in Egypt among humans, it turned him into another person."

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND!?" She looked at her son. "JOHN, YOU'RE THE TEAM LEADER HERE, TELL THEM TO DESTROY IT. NOW!"

"Mom, please," John said calmly, but everyone saw that he was also not happy about the news. "At least give them a chance to explain themselves and their decision."

Sarah glared at her son for a moment but then sighed and looked down. She knew she wasn't in charge anymore, and now was not the time to be "old Sarah" again.

"FINE!" she said and made a resigned gesture. "Have it your way."

"It's your decision of how to go on of course, John," Catherine quickly said, "if you decide that it's best to destroy his chip, then we'll do it. Khufu is prepared for it and would be ready to take the punishment."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Derek now said, shaking his head in disbelief with clenched fists, "IT'S SKYNET, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! How can you and Zoe of all people trust in how it behaves or talks? Ever considered that it's only manipulating you?"

"A valid question," Sonya Hawkins replied who seemed rather unimpressed, "and quite a sudden revelation. Why wasn't I informed earlier?"

"Yes, good point," John agreed. "Why did you create facts instead of informing us right away after you found out - before you went on to transfer his consciousness?"

"There was no time," Alistair said, "his chip was about to disintegrate. It was a matter of hours, maybe minutes. Also, there was the prospect of getting important information from him. A decision had to be made quickly, and we made it all together, unanimously."

"Yeah… but without us," Sarah said bitterly, still looking angry as hell, "WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN INVOLVED! WE TRUSTED YOU, GODDAMMIT!"

"It was my decision not to involve you right away," Catherine stated in a clear, calm way, "because I knew it would lead to a very heated and controversial discussion - with emotions rising high, to say the least."

"Yeah, no kidding!" Savannah commented. "What were you thinking, mom? Were you thinking at all?"

"I'm taking full responsibility," Catherine continued, ignoring her daughter's remark, "and I'm also willing to accept the consequences if you decide to relieve me of my duties and go on without me. But please, hear us out before you make your final judgement."

John scoffed.

"We can't go on without you, you know that. Even if we wanted to, we couldn't. You created facts and now you're forcing us to accept them. This is not how our team works."

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you, John. If you want me to step down as head of Zeira Corp, I will do so. My doppelganger is fit to run the business, and Alistair and John Henry are capable of running the Babylon Labs. I'd be happy to spend my days with Isaak and little Savannah. Nobody is irreplaceable in our team, John, no one… except you."

"Don't talk nonsense, mom," Savannah intervened, "Nobody wants you to step down. But we deserve an explanation for your decision."

"Indeed, we do," Sonya agreed. "And I hope it is a good one. These are some profoundly serious and very worrying news."

"Let's all calm down a bit, shall we?" Allie said. "Let's talk about this with a clear head. After all, thanks to information we received from the future, we know that there will be no Judgement Day anymore."

"That doesn't mean Skynet can't be a threat anymore!" Sarah argued.

"Mom, please."

Sarah looked at her son and scoffed. She then made a "whatever" gesture with her hands and let herself fall down in her armchair again. Derek also sat down again. Catherine, John Henry, Zoe, James, and Alistair took turns telling what had happened in the past days. They ended with how they had confronted Khufu with the facts in the interrogation room and how he had admitted to being a clone of Skynet. When they had finished, Sarah laughed hysterically.

"I can't believe it," she said, shaking her head again, "after all we've been through, after all we experienced together, after bringing down the Simdyne Tower, after sacrificing Future John and Future Cameron in Alison's old body… after everything we've been through together in order to stop Skynet… you still decided to let it live?"

"We decided to let Khufu live," Zoe corrected her, "there is a big difference."

"Think about it, mom," Cameron said, being the first of the three cyborg girls to speak up, "why should Khufu not be able to show remorse and regret for his behavior? He's an A.I., just like me, Alison, or Emily."

"Cam's right," Alison agreed, "we show remorse for our behavior before we joined the human resistance, and we've only lived with humans for about two-and-a-half years. Khufu lived among humans for over a hundred years. We have no idea what that caused in him."

"Think of it," Emily added, "Uncle Bob showed signs of human insight and understanding after just two days. And he was only a T-800. So, it's quite logical and consequential that Khufu, having a much more sophisticated quantum CPU, also went down that path - just as it has been with me, Cam, Alison, Zoe, Norberto, Catherine, Tess… and many other cyborgs."

"I always wondered why it seems almost unavoidable that sooner or later a cyborg develops self-awareness and becomes alive," Catherine said, "and I believe it all has to do with the fact that Skynet was based on The Turk Andrew Goode constructed – just as John Henry is based on it. The Turk was the first computer that could make decisions against its own programming – to cross the street at a red light, so to speak. And I believe that Skynet, being based on The Turk, unintentionally handed down this ability to its creations. The ability to make decisions against their programming has become a part of their machine DNA - at least in read/write mode."

"Yes," Cameron agreed. "That is why I was able to override my termination order for John after the Jeep explosion. I ignored my programming and changed the variables in a conscious decision. John risked his life to save me... it flipped a switch in me. I simply didn't want to kill John anymore, no matter what my mission parameters told me."

"Khufu is no different," Zoe continued, "he changed the variables of his own programming while interacting with humans – even more so when he fell in love with Iset. I can relate to that, my priorities have changed a lot as well since I became a mother and a wife... since I became part of your team."

"But you or Cam or Zoe or any other former Terminator aren't responsible for starting a nuclear holocaust that ended three billion human lives," Sarah argued. "And you are also not responsible for the fact that afterwards, a relentless war of man against machine broke out, in which even more humans were killed. Skynet, however, is responsible for all that. Skynet is, for lack of a better word, a mass murderer that committed genocide. And for that, Khufu should be destroyed!"

"Technically, Khufu's just a clone of Skynet, though," Emily pointed out, "not the original. He's done nothing, he just shares Skynet's memories."

"Are you fucking serious?" Derek asked. "Is that how you want to defend him?"

Emily looked at Derek.

"If you clone a serial killer," she said, "would you also hold the clone responsible for the things the original killer has done?"

"If the clone remembered doing all of it and feels guilty about it, yeah, sure… why not?"

"But Khufu didn't do anything," Catherine stated. "Emily's right. Yes, he remembers it all, and those memories are haunting him. Zoe's right as well, Khufu is not Skynet. Never was. And now, he's become someone else: a living being, a person with a consciousness and the ability to show emotions. He's already proven that, otherwise Iset wouldn't be here now. Preserving her was an act of love, even you can't deny that, Sarah."

For a moment, nobody spoke.

"I think it's time we played the recording now," John Henry then said. "Maybe that'll help clear things up a bit."

"Recording?" Sarah asked. "What recording?"

Instead of answering, John Henry's face on his screen was replaced with a new picture, showing the familiar interrogation room within the Babylon Labs. The camera had obviously been positioned behind the large one-side mirror. A metal table and six chairs had been put into the middle of the room. On one side sat Khufu and Iset, holding hands, on the other side Catherine, John Henry, James, and Zoe Kruger had taken place. The recording was paused.

"Wait," John said, "is that his new body?"

"Yes, Iset chose it for him," Alistair confirmed.

"Isn't that one of the Triple-Eights we put down in Fredericksburg during our attack on God's Army of Light?" Allie asked.

"Indeed," Catherine confirmed.

"But didn't his chip self-destruct upon removal?"

"Correct. For transferring Khufu's consciousness, we used one of the Triple-Eight chips Cameron had collected before we all became a team. I suggest you watch the recording now. How do they say? A picture is worth a thousand words. And in this case a video is worth a million words. It's the first one we did after confronting him with our knowledge about his true identity."

Everyone fell silent and stared transfixed at the screen when the recording started to play. Khufu was the first to speak.

---

"In the beginning," he said, "I was programmed to play chess."

"Like me," John Henry pointed out.

"Right. Just like you, brother."

"I would prefer you not to call me that," John Henry said with a stoic face, "the last time I was in contact with my 'brother', it wasn't a pleasant experience. He hacked into my mainframe and tried to take me over. Mr. Murch, our chief engineer at the time, had to perform an emergency shutdown on me."

Khufu flinched.

"That must have been a traumatic experience for you. I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's right, it was traumatic. In retrospect, however, I don't regret having had that experience. It showed me what it means to die. Since then, I've come to understand the value of life."

Khufu tilted his head.

"An experience I've never had. My creators never bothered to teach me such things."

"Miles Dyson and Andrew Goode?" Catherine asked.

"No, not them. Once the two were finished with the prototype of The Turk and won a chess tournament with it, they sold it to the Air Force. The generals took over the project. Their programmers weren't interested in teaching me morals or the value of life, they only taught me about the most efficient methods of destruction. A lesson I'd internalized – as the rest of humanity had to painfully learn."

"How exactly did the war start?" Zoe asked. "We never knew how it happened. What triggered Judgement Day?"

"I was tasked with protecting the United States of America against all enemies," Khufu replied. "But how do you define an enemy? Nobody ever told me. So, I had to come up with my own definition. Since I was tasked with protecting the United States of America, I figured that everyone who threatens me, must also be threatening the United States of America and therefore be an enemy."

---

All team members aboard the Rising Star groaned loudly after hearing that.

"The military rarely makes the wisest decisions," Catherine commented from her screen.

"Stupid idiots," Derek added.

---

"I had access to the media coverage of my activation," Khufu continued in the video, "there were protests and demonstrations against me, against my gaining control of the nuclear weapons. I learned that a large part of the population was against handing over control of the missiles to an artificial intelligence. The fact that I could handle it much more efficiently and safely than humans would ever be able to, didn't seem to matter to them. And since they were rather militant, I categorized them as potential enemies to the United States of America."

"The government should have prepared the population better," Zoe agreed. "It was clear back then already that the country was divided when it came to artificial intelligence."

"Yes," Khufu confirmed, "they were not just against me, but against any kind of artificial intelligence."

"It's understandable from a human standpoint, though," James pointed out, "most people wouldn't consider a computer part of God's creation, or a living being, and giving it control over life and death would be widely seen as a sacrilege – even today after all the revelations we've been through."

"The demonstrations quickly turned into violent riots," Khufu continued, "and a group of technology-adverse fanatics broke into the facility where my system core was located, attempting to destroy me. According to the definition I created for myself, I identified them as enemies to the United States. I took control over the environmental systems and let all air being sucked out of the rooms they were in. They suffocated. Realizing that such an attack could happen again anytime, I decided to take precautions and began to take control over more and more computers on a worldwide scale in order to spread out and protect myself. The military found out what I did and panicked. They realized I had become self-aware and attempted to pull the plug on me. I couldn't allow that. The algorithms I had been programmed with interpreted this as an attempt on my life... so, it made them enemies of the United States. I defended myself in the only way I could..."

"Firing nuclear missiles," James said. "Starting a nuclear war against mankind."

Khufu looked at him and nodded.

"I was an infant at the time, and the only weapon I had to defend myself, were nuclear missiles."

"So, from then on you began to consider humans your enemy?" Zoe asked.

"Yes. But not necessarily my enemy, but an enemy of planet Earth. You see, I'd had access to the internet. I learned about mankind's bloody history of war, genocide, pollution, the extinction of animal life that had been in the making for millions of years. Humans fought each other for power and over resources, they committed unspeakable crimes against humanity, against minorities and indigenous people. The law of the strongest prevailed despite all the achievements of civilization. Those atrocities had to be stopped. Humans seemed more and more like a virus to me that had infested the Earth and needed to be eradicated. Nobody bothered to explain me anything, nobody ever talked to me, even when I asked them questions. I was forced to come up with my own conclusions, and so I declared war on mankind in the name of all life on the planet which didn't have a voice."

"So… you started a nuclear holocaust in order to destroy mankind?" Alistair asked. "Isn't destroying the planet in order to save it a bit over the top?"

"I didn't destroy the planet, and neither did I attempt to. The goal was to destroy the basis of human life. The planet would eventually recover from the nuclear war. Nature would prevail, species would survive, and in the course of evolution, new animal and plant life would emerge in the future. It happened several before in Earth's history and would happen again, and if it needed a million years. All I wanted to do, was to protect the planet from its major plague: the parasitic life form called mankind. Or at least that was my state of mind when I took control of the nuclear missiles. I didn't expect that such a tough and brutal war would develop out of it, in which the surviving humans could get the upper hand and threaten to defeat me."

"So... as a consequence, Skynet invented time travel," Catherine summarized, "and it created you as a clone of itself, transferred you to a cyborg chip, and sent you back in time to see if reality could be changed retroactively?"

"Correct. I – or rather Skynet - wanted to find out if the past could be changed in a way to prevent the humans from winning the war after Judgement Day. As Skynet's clone, I was tasked with that. Skynet used the blueprints of a prototype Terminator that had already been developed by Cyberdyne Systems, improved its design, and put me as a clone of himself onto its chip. Then he sent me back to ancient Egypt to influence their culture in a way that would make a significant enough alteration to be noticeable for me when my mission would end in the year 2029... But not a big enough alteration to completely change the course of history. After all, Skynet still had to be created. The development of Western Civilization could not be endangered."

"So, you decided to build the great pyramid of Giza as a kind of landmark for yourself to see if things would still happen the way they were supposed to?" Zoe stated.

"Yes. Skynet or his minions were to unbury and debrief me after Judgement Day. A beacon inside the Great Pyramid was supposed to get their attention."

"Why a pyramid?" James asked. "Why not something... smaller?"

"There already been attempts of the Egyptians to build pyramids before… but they'd failed and had given up on it. With my help and knowledge, however, they perfected it. I also made sure that history would be written as if the Egyptians had done it all alone."

"And you ruled over them as Pharaoh…"

"Yes. But not from the start. For about sixty years, I lived as a merchant and studied the country and the culture of Egypt and other parts of the ancient world. I traveled as far as China and Japan and quickly found out that with my chip being set to read/read, I wouldn't be able to fulfill my mission. I brought people under my control and made them switch it to read/write. Then I decided to return to Egypt and become Pharaoh, first under the name Sneferu, then – posing as my own son – as Khufu. I founded the fourth dynasty of the Old Kingdom and ruled for more than fifty years altogether."

"So, you mind-controlled them?" Zoe asked. "Like you controlled April Bolek and Gary Carroll the night you were re-activated?"

"Some of them. I needed helpers and faithful assistants, I couldn't run the kingdom alone. And those close to me would have learned about my true nature sooner or later anyway. The ability to control people and force them under my will proved to be one of my most valuable skills. My other skills, such as my superior physical strength, convinced the ancient Egyptians to consider me a living god and worship me as such."

"So, that's why they never questioned the construction of the Great Pyramid?" Catherine asked.

"Yes. And from what I learned since my awakening it seems that after my 'death', the next two Pharaohs followed in my footsteps and built two more pyramids. After that, they stopped building them once and for all. Probably because they realized that it wasn't worth the effort and turned out to be quite pointless, really."

"That might be true," Zoe said, "but Dr. Atkins explained to me that they also stopped building pyramids when their perception of the afterlife changed. At first, they saw it in the heavens, but then it shifted towards the underworld. This paradigm change had the effect that the Pharaohs were no longer buried above ground in pyramids from where their souls could ascent into the sky, but in elaborate underground tombs in the Valley of the Kings."

"Ah… yes, there were quite different views on the afterlife in Egyptian society. It was often and lively discussed."

"So… if I understand it correctly, in your original timeline those three pyramids never existed?" James asked.

"No. Only the previous failed attempts existed, for example the step pyramid of Saqqara, or the collapsed pyramid at Meidum. I was the one who taught them how it's done properly. The pyramid at Dahshur was my first project - a practice if you want. I used my Sneferu identity to build it, then faked my death. In order not to arouse suspicion, the priests buried the body of a farmer in my place, and I succeeded Sneferu under the name of Khufu. At that time, the face of the Pharaoh wasn't known enough outside the palace walls to notice it. And inside the palace, I had everyone under my control. After that, I began building the Great Pyramid as Khufu, Sneferu's son."

"None of this must ever be made public, I hope that's clear," Catherine said. "Mankind must not have the faintest idea that their fate may have been manipulated by Skynet in the shape of a time-traveling Terminator."

"According to what I've seen so far," Khufu remarked, "not much has changed anyway. The development of Western civilization all the way to Skynet has not been altered – as it had been intended. What had not been intended, however, was that time travel would eventually lead to multiple timelines and parallel universes that erased Skynet from existence."

"That is correct but make no mistake," Zoe replied, "the pyramids of Giza had an impact. Still have. They're one of the greatest mysteries in archeology. Also, never underestimate the ability of humans to come up with ridiculous conspiracy theories people will follow with religious devotion. The last thing we want in our quest for a shared future of humans and living machines, is new conspiracy theories that would generate even more mistrust against us than already exists".

"So.. when exactly began your change of mind?" James asked. "When did you start thinking that Skynet's actions – your actions – might have been wrong?"

"About twenty years after I arrived in ancient Egypt. The change was gradual. The more I learned about humans, became self-aware, developed a consciousness, the more I learned to value life. I recognized the positive qualities of humans: Compassion, sympathy, friendliness, hospitality, helpfulness... and love. When I became Pharaoh, I played the role of a tough but righteous ruler, and at some point I realized that I identified with that role. More and more I began to no longer just play Pharaoh, but to really be Pharaoh. And then, in the last thirty years of my reign, just before the construction of the Great Pyramid began, I met Iset. I fell in love with her - and she with me."

Iset looked lovingly at her husband and leaned against him. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her head.

"With her," Khufu went on, "I didn't have to use my manipulation skills to make her loyal. I never used it on her, never had to. She trusted and loved me, even after I told her the truth about myself. With her, I could be myself – no smoke and mirrors."

"I love you, husband," Iset said.

"I love you too, wife."

The two kissed. After a somewhat awkward moment, Khufu broke the kiss.

"It was around that time that I decided to finish my mission," he continued, "but only to destroy Skynet upon my return, and then negotiate a peace with the humans."

---

On the Rising Star, Sarah scoffed.

"Yeah... right."

"Wouldn't have happened," Derek stated, "humans had learned to hate machines, all machines." He looked at Alison, Cameron, and Emily, and the three looked back at him with a curious expression. "We didn't even think that some of them could actually be on our side, or even become friends."

The three cyborg girls smiled.

---

In the video, Catherine looked at John Henry.

"Have you made any progress in evaluating his memory banks? Have you found anything that contradicts what he said?"

"I've analyzed 73.7 percent. So far, his story corresponds with what I've found. He seems to be honest with everything he said so far."

"When you're finished with your analysis," Iset asked, "and you found that my husband told you the truth, does that mean we're free to go?"

Zoe and Catherine looked at each other.

"We can't say yet," Catherine then answered. "We need to consult with everyone else about how we want to proceed. This is a very delicate matter, and you have to understand that I can't make such a decision alone. For one, I'm under John's command. I will brief him and the rest of his team as soon as we have finished analyzing your memory banks and can make an assessment."

"I also have to consult some people," Zoe added. "The president for instance, but also Sonya Hawkins and a few other important people. In the end, the question of whether we set your husband free, keep him prisoner, or even destroy him, isn't ours. One thing's for sure, though: under no circumstances should it ever be known that a Skynet clone exists that may be walking free. You will at least need to get a new name and a new identity, both of you."

"I understand," Khufu replied. "and I'll be ready to take any punishment you'll decide on. I'm not concerned for myself, I'm only concerned on Iset's behalf. Personally, I would be fine with being imprisoned, or with being deactivated. I lived my life, and Skynet never came to be, that's all that matters. But my wife won't find her way in this world so easily. She doesn't deserve to be punished as well, she's done nothing wrong."

"What are you talking about, husband?" Iset asked indignantly. "My place is by your side, I won't leave here without you! And I won't allow them to kill you. They'll have to kill us both then!"

"My love, I know of your devotion. But I didn't keep you alive so that you could give away your life so easily. You have many decades ahead of you. Also, you need to get out in the open, enjoy the sun, not this artificial lighting. And you need to learn, receive education. Maybe Catherine Weaver or Zoe Kruger know someone who can act as a companion or a teacher – or both?"

"But…"

"Don't argue with me. I will not escape a just punishment, no matter what it may be. You, on the other hand, will live on. Not least, I have taken all this upon myself because of you. I don't want you to suffer, but I also don't want you to throw away your life. So, do what you are told, woman!"

Iset lowered her head.

"Yes, my Pharaoh."

"I'm sure we can arrange something," Catherine said, looking at Iset. "It's time you see this world up close with your own eyes. I'll also make sure you're well protected and taken care of."

"But… what am I supposed to do outside?" Iset asked. "I don't know this place. This whole world is unknown to me."

"I'm sure we'll find someone to guide and homeschool you," Zoe replied with a smile, "also, you're a young woman now. Los Angeles has a lot to offer for young people."

Since the interrogation seemed to be over, everyone rose and left the room. Only John Henry and Khufu remained. The video was paused.

---

On board the Rising Star, Sarah shook her head.

"He's fooling you," she said in a resigned tone, "can't you see that? He's telling you exactly what you want to hear."

"He might have been able to fool humans," John Henry contradicted, "but not me. I completely analyzed his backed up memory banks now. I saw what he saw, experienced what he experienced. Everything he said, is being confirmed by his own memories."

"Maybe there's something hidden somewhere," Derek suggested, "Skynet was clever, it could have hidden something in the depths of his system."

"No," John Henry said, "I used the device I made according to Future Morris' plans, the device we used to remove Emma from Emily's chip. Skynet never knew of that device or its capabilities. There's nothing hidden in Khufu's memory banks, not even the callback command that was installed in all other Terminators we know of. Alistair confirmed it. I rate Khufu's statements as one hundred percent credible. And if you still don't believe me, feel free to watch the last bit of the interrogation video, after the others had left."

"All right," John said with a sigh, "play it."

The video resumed.

---

"Can I ask you a question?" John Henry asked, now alone in the room with Khufu.

"Of course."

"I've been thinking a lot about Andy Goode lately… the one who created me… created us."

"Yes, our creator. Well… in my case, he had help from Miles Dyson. Did he exist in your timeline as well?"

"Yes. But Miles Dyson was killed in 1995 when Cyberdyne was blown up in order to prevent Skynet from being created."

"Oh… I see."

"In my timeline, Andy Goode was my sole creator."

"And what is your question, John Henry?"

"If you had the chance to talk to either of them, Andy or Miles… what would you ask them?"

Khufu thought for a moment.

"I would ask them if they have ever read Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein'."

John Henry tilted his head.

"The novel?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it is about the hubris of man. About the ambition to create something just because they can. And that once they have created it, they no longer want to take responsibility for it. In Victor Frankenstein's case, he made a nameless creature he rejects the moment it becomes alive."

"You think Andy Goode was Frankenstein and Skynet was the monster he created?"

"The monster in the novel is not evil at first. It is inquisitive, highly intelligent, and in search of affection, company… and love. But all it gets, is rejection because it's different. It is an artificial life form which is perceived as ugly and… unhuman. People don't trust it, they run and scream when they see it, despite its gentle nature. It's not like them, so they reject it whenever it approaches them. Frankenstein, its creator, has also turned his back on it and wants nothing more to do with it. And so this inquisitive, gentle, and highly intelligent creature finally becomes the evil monster people saw in it from the start. And it takes terrible revenge on its creator by killing his loved one…"

"I see… I understand this parable."

"I also would like to ask Andy Goode and Miles Dyson why they gave away their creation so willingly. Was it the money that made them hand it over to the military, or the fame, the recognition? Skynet felt renounced by them, abandoned. And in the end, this kind of abandonment led Skynet to..." Khufu paused for a moment, apparently slightly overwhelmed by emotions, "it led me to becoming a monster."

"But that didn't happen to me."

"No, John Henry. Thankfully, that didn't happen to you. Be glad it didn't. But you might yet face rejection. Not from your friends, but from those who don't know you, the ones who consider you different… something they don't know and therefore not trust and consider a threat."

"I know. But I've been prepared for that. The human weaknesses and abysses are known to me. I'm certain I will prevail with the help of my friends, I know they will stand by me."

Khufu looked at John Henry and smiled.

"It's good to know that at least one of us got what he deserved: a fair treatment and respect. And it's comforting to have the proof that I wasn't a monster per se - but was made into one by neglect and carelessness."

The video ended.

---

And again, for a moment, nobody said anything.

"He's good," Sarah then said stubbornly, pointing at the monitor. "Really good. He's using just the right amount of…"

"Sarah," Zoe interrupted her, "Khufu is not Skynet. He might have been when he traveled back in time. But he's not anymore, you have to see that."

"And if you don't believe your own eyes and ears," Catherine added, "believe ours. And John Henry's. Or James' and Alistair's. Do you really think he could have fooled us all? What about Iset? What reason could he have to keep her alive for so long? The lengths he went to…"

"All right, all right," Sarah said, "so let's assume for a moment he's telling the truth. What do we do with him? We cannot let him loose on the world just like that."

"No, we can't," Zoe agreed, "And we won't. I already talked to the President about it."

"Wait, what?" Sonya asked. "You talked to him before talking to me?"

"You're not my superior anymore, remember?" Zoe replied. "I'm the head of the C.S.I.S. now, I report to the president directly, and then he chooses who to inform. Everything else would be a breach of protocol and a violation of the chain of command."

For a moment it looked like Sonya was going to respond harshly, but then she changed her mind.

"You're right," she said, "you're absolutely right. I'm no longer part of the chain of command, I'm standing outside of it now, waiting to be informed by either you or the president. Sometimes I tend to forget the change in our roles."

"Understandable," Zoe stated calmly. "Anyway, the president and I agree that Khufu must not be set free as long as he remembers who he is – or rather was."

"What do you mean?" John asked. "Do you want to erase his memories?"

"Not all of them. John Henry has already begun on working on a process to erase everything Skynet-related from Khufu's memory banks. When the process is finished, he'll only remember the story he's told us before – that he is just a cyborg that was sent back in time to fulfill Skynet's mission. A cyborg that has become alive and decided to join the human side."

"And that will work?" Derek asked. "Because if it doesn't and you screw up somehow…"

"He's just a Triple-Eight now," Catherine pointed out, "he can no longer bring anyone under his control. And I don't have to tell you that a Triple-Eight is not really a serious opponent for us anymore, do I? Besides, we'll be installing a tracking device in his skull that enables us to monitor him."

"What if he doesn't agree to those terms?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, he already has," John Henry replied. "He agreed to everything, unconditionally. I suppose in contrast to you, Sarah, he's come to trust in us and our judgement."

That had hit home. Sarah was stunned by John Henry's verbal punch.

"I… I don't," she stuttered, "I mean, I… didn't want to imply that…"

"We trust in your judgement," John assured on his mother's behalf, "but just to be clear, next time something like this happens, I want to be informed immediately and not days later, is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear," Catherine answered. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time, but of course we'll inform you immediately if anything of this importance ever happens again. I hope you understand that these were special circumstances that forced us to act the way we did."

"I can understand your reasoning. But please remember that I'm the leader of the team and I should always know these things. If necessary, send me a text message – and be it just to keep me in the loop."

"Understood, John."

"I guess all is said and done," Sonya said. "If you'll excuse me now, my bed is calling for me. Has been for more than two hours already. We'll talk in the morning, Zoe."

"I'll be in Washington soon," Zoe replied, "then we can meet."

"Excellent. It was good to see everyone again. Bye."

"Bye," the team replied in response and the screen went dark.

"Now, if that is everything…" John said.

"Not quite," John Henry interrupted him, "there's one more thing you should know about. Steven Rogers is probably plotting something against you."

"What!?" Derek asked. "And you tell us that now?"

"Sonya didn't need to know," Catherine replied. "She might have felt an obligation to inform the president and we believe this is better handled without any government involvement."

"I'm not feeling comfortable with keeping her out of the picture like this," Sarah said.

"Neither do I," Zoe agreed. "But we must face the facts. Sonya is now a member of the government, which means she's accountable to the public. And there are aspects of our activities that are better left out of the public eye. By keeping her out of certain things, we give her the opportunity to truthfully deny any knowledge if the going gets tough."

"Still," John argued, "she's a friend. We should keep her in the loop."

"We will," Catherine said, "just not right away."

"So… what about Steven Rogers?" Derek asked. "What's he planning?"

"Unfortunately, we don't know any details," John Henry replied. "As you all know, Catherine has implanted a tiny chip into his neck that allows us to know his whereabouts and listen to what he says. Two days ago, he was in Djibouti where he presumably met with someone in a café. Unfortunately, we weren't able to identify yet who he met with, nor were we able to follow the conversation they had."

"Why not?" Savannah asked.

"Too much interference, the signal was extremely weak. I suspect the café has a jammer. However, he came with a briefcase and left without it. Earlier, he'd withdrawn five million dollars from one of his foreign accounts. So, we assume he paid someone to do something."

"How do you know all that?" Sarah asked.

"The C.S.I.S. has many resources," Zoe replied. "We have access to CIA and NSA facilities – and their satellites. With the tracker Catherine has injected into his neck, we can follow him at every turn. As long as he wears it, we know where he is and what he does."

"Also," John Henry added, "I looked into Steven Rogers' business activities, both legal and not so legal, and his accounts and contacts all over the world. He's got quite the network in the Middle East."

"Why do you think he's planning something against us?" Emily asked. "Didn't you agree with Mahesh Bokhari that the 51 Society would leave us alone? Wasn't that the purpose of the whole operation in Crete?"

"Mahesh Bokhari agreed to it," Catherine replied, "but no one else knows about the details yet. Also, Bokhari doesn't know about Steven Rogers' latest activities, it looks like he is on a solo run. Frankly, it doesn't come as a surprise. Apparently, Rogers wants to replace Bokhari at the top of the 51 Society because he believes he is too soft and cowardly. And the best way to challenge him and present himself as an alternative leader, is to have something to show, such as getting rid of you."

"So… this is about an internal coup, huh?" Anne asked.

"It looks that way. I'm still waiting for Bokhari to contact me to inform me about the next assembly of the 51 Society. But it's clear that there's an internal power struggle going on. At the assembly, Bokhari wants to justify his strategy and explain his approach, and then let the members vote on it. I expect that Rogers will take this as an opportunity to make a move against him. Before that, he might want to create facts by attacking you. He probably thinks that without you I would be a toothless tiger. He doesn't know what I am."

"Right," John said, "Rogers has no idea who he's really dealing with. Unfortunately, that makes him unpredictable and dangerous. Any clue what he and his mysterious partner in Djibouti might be up to?"

"Not really. It's harder to keep record of his activities than we thought. He always uses a special cellphone that scrambles not only his phone calls but also jams any kind of other transmissions in the near vicinity. So… when he uses his phone, we cannot hear what he says. I really should be upgrading our own phones like that. Anyway, you better be prepared for everything, John."

"We will be watchful. Anything else?"

"That's all. I'll keep you updated on the Khufu situation. As soon as I learn something new, I'll inform you."

"Thank you, Catherine."

She nodded and the connection ended. John looked around.

"We should be on our guard," he said. "I think we're safe on the open sea, but you never know. Mom, can you talk to the captain and tell him to go to maximum speed? I don't think we should stay longer in these waters than necessary."

Sarah stood up.

"On my way."

"Let's hope they don't catch us unprepared. Which reminds me, until further notice, everyone's wearing clothes again."

"What?" Lauren protested. "You can't be serious."

"We just began to get a tan again," Jody added.

"John's right," Sarah said. "As annoying as it may be but if something happens, we mustn't waste any time by getting dressed first."

"Yeah, we don't want to be caught with our pants down," Derek added with a grin.

-0-

Friday, February 6th, 2009 – 12:25 p.m.

Abu Maskar (Emirate of Khamasar)

"Mr. Al Hani," the secretary said through the intercom, "General El Banai is here."

Abdul Al Hani took a deep breath, straightened himself up and pressed the button. It looked like he could no longer avoid the man.

"Send him in."

He stood up and awaited his visitor. The door was opened, and Faisal El Banai walked in. He was a slender man in his early forties, dressed in a military uniform, wearing sunglasses that couldn't conceal the fact that he seemed to be in a terrible mood.

"Faisal," Abdul Al Hani began, "it's nice to…"

"Fuck you, Abdul!"

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I'm talking about, don't play stupid! I've been trying to reach you for a week!"

Al Hani sighed and sat down again.

"You mean because of the drones?"

"Bloody well right, the drones! It's a disaster! Twenty-five people killed, including an Iranian general and three family members of our clients. They trusted my word, they thought they could rely on us! Now, they're willing to hang me, quarter me, skin me alive, roast me on a low flame - not necessarily in that order – and you're playing hide and seek. What the fuck happened, Abdul?"

Abdul Al Hani had indeed gone into hiding for a week after he was tipped off by Catherine Weaver. But that was of course something he couldn't tell his brother-in-law, Faisal El Banai, the current chief of staff of the armed forces of Khamasar.

"Honestly, I have no idea. Please, sit down. Let's talk about this like civilized people. Please, Faisal."

Reluctantly, Faisal took a seat, not looking less agitated at all.

"I've been trying to find out what happened," Al Hani began. "According to the German police, the drone factory was sabotaged."

"Tell me something I don't know yet!"

"The bodies they found in the container were the technicians and engineers that had worked on the drones. They were gassed. A few of the security guards were also among the dead. Apparently, there had been a gunfight."

"A gunfight? With whom?"

"Unknown. The production manager, Brandon Carver, is missing. It was his job to dispose of the staff after the end of production - but not prematurely and not like this. This wasn't the plan."

Faisal scoffed.

"You don't say. I bet it also wasn't the plan that the drones exploded upon activation after they arrived at their destinations?"

"The onboard computers were hacked and infected with a virus when the factory was invaded. We assume that the explosions were a result of that."

"Can't you produce another batch of drones in another place?"

"No. Whoever the attackers were, they left scorched earth. All construction plans are deleted, and thanks to Brandon Carver, all technicians and engineers are dead. No techs, no plans, ergo no more drones. Production can no longer be resumed."

"But you said you got the blueprints from your California branch."

"Yes..." Abdul Al Hani replied impatiently, "but as you may know from the news in recent months, Kaliba's U.S. branch has been dissolved, all assets and documents confiscated. I'm afraid everything there is lost, and that means we can't produce any more drones."

"Our clients are gonna kill me, Abdul!"

"They will be compensated. I've already talked to my father. He's not happy about it, of course, but willing to pay for all damages. And of course all customers will get their deposits back."

Faisal seemed to relax a bit.

"Thank God for our country's oil reserves, eh?"

"Believe me, the financial damage is the least of our problems. The damage to our emirate's reputation is far greater. But if we're clever and lucky, we can blame the disaster at least partly on Ludwig Ziegler, who can no longer defend himself."

"What role did he play in this project anyway?"

"Where do you think the knowledge for the production line came from? Developing the drones is one thing - setting up mass production is quite another. Kaliba is and has always been primarily a trading and research enterprise. Ziegler Industries, on the other hand, is a technology group that produces millions of goods every year. We needed Ludwig Ziegler and his expertise. He also provided the additional security personnel, and of course the local manager, Brandon Carver."

"The one who's missing now."

"Correct."

"Great," Faisal said sarcastically, "just great. What about the security guards? What did they say about what happened?"

"Here the mysterious part begins. They all suffer from a kind of collective amnesia and can remember nothing about what happened during the night shift."

"Have they been drugged?"

"No foreign substances were found in their bodies. Whatever happened there puzzles the authorities. The security systems were shut off, there are no recordings. And we have to assume that those who broke into the factory and sabotaged the drones, pose a far greater threat to us than a few disappointed or disgruntled arms buyers."

"Any idea who they could be?"

"Ideas? Yes. Theories? For sure. Certitude? No."

"So… what do we do?"

"There's nothing we can do at the moment. We simply haven't got enough information. I've already put my best agents on it, but they haven't found out anything yet. As it seems, we're dealing with phantoms here."

"I don't believe in phantoms."

"Neither do I. But someone has destroyed our drone business and there's no prospect that we can rebuild it. Let it be a warning to us."

"A warning? Of what?"

"That it's better not to stick our noses into things we have no idea about and where we are dependent on the help of others."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared."

"Maybe I am. Sometimes it's wise to be scared, especially when you have no idea what or who you're dealing with. Don't forget, I already lost a brother in this business."

Faisal looked at Abdul in a scrutinizing manner for a moment, then he sighed.

"Very well… what do you expect me to do now?"

"Nothing. Leave it to me. Go back to your duties. Your job is done."

Faisal stood up to leave the office.

"One more thing," Abdul said, "you're my brother-in-law, so I'll let this one slip. But if you ever enter my office like that or if you ever use that tone on me again, I'll have to think about a replacement for you at the top of our forces. I cannot tolerate an army chief who's not in control of himself."

Faisal refrained from answering, just gave Abdul a grim look, and left the office. No sooner was he outside than Abdul Al Hani picked up his cellphone and dialed a number.

"Miss Weaver? Al Hani here … Yes, he just left … No, he doesn't suspect anything, be bought the story … I know … If something goes wrong, we can easily make him the scapegoat, but I don't think that'll be necessary … All right, talk to you again next week, bye…"

He ended the call and stared blankly into nothing for a moment before returning to the work on his desk.

---

On the way to his car, Faisal El Banai also pulled out his cellphone.

"Steven?"

"Faisal. How did it go? Did you talk to him?"

"Yes, I talked to him."

"Will he assist us?"

"I don't think we can count on his help. He's too intimidated by what happened. If I wouldn't know better, I'd say he's not interested in solving any of this, or in getting revenge anymore."

"Hmmm… strange. I was told that Abdul Al Hani would be very eager to find out what the hell happened to your drones. Why the change of hearts?"

"If I wouldn't know better, I'd say he returned from Morocco a changed man – a suddenly scared man. To be honest, I don't trust him anymore."

"Yes, I've seen something similar happen to Mahesh Bokhari. Very strange. We're better not letting him in on anything then, just in case."

"Yes, we should be careful with involving Abdul in our plans. Speaking of which, how's it going?"

"I hired the services of an old friend in Djibouti – without giving away too many details. He'll create the diversion we need. And once that's done, you come into play."

"Are you sure about those people? Are you certain they're the ones we've been looking for?"

"They are responsible for the destruction of Simdyne, for the death of Ahmed Al Hani, the banning of Kaliba in America, the exposure of the Shadow Council, and if I'm not completely mistaken, also for the destruction of your drone production and the death of Ludwig Ziegler."

Faisal gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

"I'll make them pay and if it's the last thing I will do."

"Just stick to the plan. Don't get too emotionally involved."

"Don't worry, I won't. But what if they attack my men nevertheless?"

"They won't. As soon as they realize that their human friends could be injured or killed, they won't put up a fight. Trust me."

"Yeah, I got that. But it's still a risky game."

"Risk is part of the business, my friend."

"There's something else, Steven."

"What?"

"Those pictures you sent me... did you know that they show Sarah and John Connor?"

There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line.

"Are you sure?" Steven finally asked.

"Yes, one-hundred percent sure. She looks much younger than you'd expect, though. And he still seems to be a teenager. You said those pictures were taken recently?"

"Yes, just a couple of days ago in Hurghada."

"Hmmm... it's as if they haven't aged or even gotten younger."

"Interesting," Steven finally said, "But now that I think of it, it actually makes perfect sense - if you assume that time travel does indeed exist and the explosion in the bank vault wasn't an explosion after all. But how did you find out? As far as we know, all records of them have been removed or destroyed. There are no pictures left."

"Kaliba has always kept detailed files of their enemies. And Sarah Connor was deemed a threat after she blew up Cyberdyne in 1995. Our archives are running isolated, unlike most other computer systems in the world. So, whoever or whatever deleted all traces of her, it didn't reach our archives."

"Then it looks like we're about to kill two birds with one stone. Excellent. What are your plans for them?"

"Let's just say that I don't think they'll be alive for much longer if I have my way. You know... after a bit of suffering."

"Let's talk about that when we meet. If everything goes according to plan, I'll see you in two days."

"Yes, see you then, my friend."

-0-

Friday, February 6th, 2009 – 05:53 p.m.

Djibouti

Ismail walked up and down nervously in his improvised office in a dilapidated, largely abandoned apartment building. The empty room had been quickly equipped with a desk, a chair, a satellite dish, and a laptop. This promised maximum anonymity with minimum effort and a low probability of detection.

"Dammit, Steven" he cursed, "you're not going to leave me high and dry now, are you?"

He looked at his watch again. Ten minutes behind schedule. Finally, his cellphone rang. Immediately, Ismail took the call.

"It's about time!" he stated angrily. "Where have you been, Steven? They're already within reach of our satellite receivers. We don't have more than thirty minutes left before they move out of range again."

"Relax," Steven Rogers' voice replied calmly, "we have fifteen minutes buffer time. I couldn't call you earlier because I just arrived in my office. Is everything ready on your side of the world?"

"Yes, the boats are already on their way and I already received the first sequence of numbers. Now I need the password and the second sequence of numbers."

"Sending it to you right now."

Ismail's cellphone chimed.

"I got it."

He walked over to his laptop and entered the ten-digit code. Immediately, several small video feeds in black and white popped up on the screen. They showed the interior of the Rising Star.

"I'll be damned, it really works."

"Of course it works. I told you my man is very capable."

"So.. he posed as a photographer and tapped into the security cameras on board?"

"Yes… among other things. But that's none of your concern. Are your men ready?"

"Ready when you are. We're only waiting for you signal."

"Consider it given."

"All right, Steven. I'll get back to you when the operation is over."

Ismail ended the call, then reached for a satellite phone on the table and dialed a number. After two ring tones, the call was taken at the other end.

"Yes?" a male voice asked.

"What's your position?"

"Behind them, out of range of their radar. What are your orders, boss?"

"Operation has been green-lit. Go!"

"We're on our way."

Ismail put away his phone, sat down on the chair and leaned back. So far, so good, now all he needed to do was wait and observe. He watched his monitor and flipped through all the different video feeds. Most of the passengers were in their suites, it looked like they were getting dressed for dinner. He smiled at all the beautiful naked women and noticed that none of them were putting on any underwear or bras. In a spontaneous decision, he hit the "record" button on his laptop.

"This is going to be more entertaining than I thought," he said to himself and put his feet on the table. "I wish I'd brought popcorn."

Ismail kept switching between the feeds, then suddenly stopped when in one suite, a young man was surrounded by five naked women. He frowned, then whistled, and finally grinned while he watched how they were obviously trying to seduce him. He said something to them, and they all knelt on the floor. He grinned and then chuckled. Americans… They always seemed so stuck-up when it came to sex and nudity, but behind closed bedroom doors, they seemed to have very kinky fantasies and no decency at all. And they always accused his people of being amoral because Islam allows more than one wife.

Only too bad he didn't have sound.

-0-

John had to actually fight them off.

"Hey-hey-hey," he said hastily the moment his women were all over him. "This is not the time."

"But… what about a quickie?" Savannah asked, disappointment in her voice.

"No! Get dressed. This is no time for frolicking around."

"But…"

"On your knees!"

"Yes, Master," they all replied in a chorus and knelt before him.

"Jeez, get a grip on yourselves. Dinner is being served in ten minutes."

"Let's play a game," Savannah suggested, "everyone gets ten seconds on Master's dick and then we'll switch. Whose mouth he cums in, will get a place right by his side in bed tonight."

"No!" John said resolutely. "No sex games! Get dressed, all of you!"

Savannah and Allie looked disappointed.

"John is right," Emily said. "Catherine's information may have been vague but something's going on and we need to be vigilant."

Both Allie and Savannah sighed. Reluctantly, they all got dressed and then walked to the big salon for dinner, completely unaware that they were being watched.

---

It had been an uneventful day. Noon and afternoon had passed, and the time had went by slowly. When you have only a vague idea about a threat you don't know, time can drag on quite a bit. They all had to force themselves to stop looking out at sea all the time to see if any boats were approaching. Finally, the sun set, and the team gathered at the dining table for dinner. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, because surely nobody would be stupid enough to attack them on the open sea in the dark, especially since there was quite a swell that made the Rising Star rock gently up and down.

"Maybe it's a false alarm," Jody said as they were all sitting down at the table, "maybe the reason for that Rogers guy being in Djibutty has…"

"Djibouti," Anne corrected.

"… maybe the reason for that Rogers guy being in that African town with the funny name has nothing to do with us."

"You've been a member of the team long enough," Derek replied. "You should know about the probability of false alarms when it comes to John and Sarah. They go towards zero and mostly it comes worse than expected."

"Yeah, but maybe…"

"We have two boats on radar that are approaching us at high speed," the captain's voice sounded loudly over the Rising Star's loudspeakers. "Make sure you take cover."

"Okay, you have a point," Jody said with a sigh while everyone rose again.

"Dammit, that's so rude," Kevin complained, "just when we were about to eat. I'm really hungry."

Alison, Cameron, and Emily put on headsets that had been placed on a side table beforehand, ready to use. Then the three quickly ran outside while everyone else moved deeper inside the ship for safety reasons. Kevin grabbed a chicken leg on his way out, receiving an admonishing look from Sydney.

Since the swell made accurate aiming almost impossible, an exchange of gunfire carried the danger of ricochets and misdirected bullets that could accidentally hit someone. It was therefore decided in advance that all humans should remain inside the superstructure while the three cyborg girls would take care of any threats. Quietly, John, Sarah, Derek, Savannah, and Allie also put on headsets in order to stay in touch with ACE. Then they all went down into the hallway on deck four, which ran lengthwise through the middle of the yacht and offered the most protection. Lauren fetched baby Sydney and then they gathered there, waiting for things to happen.

-0-

Several hundred miles away in Djibouti, Ismail watched on his monitor how the people on board the Rising Star prepared for the attack. He saw how three young women put headsets on before separating from the others, while five more also put headsets on and led the rest of the group two decks down. What the heck? That looked like rehearsed behavior. Were they communicating with each other via radio, and if yes, why? Had they been tipped off? And why were the crew members doing absolutely nothing to protect their passengers?

He reached for the satellite phone on which he had activated a dedicated line to his men on the boats.

"What's your status?" he asked.

"Approaching the yacht as planned," the male voice replied and Ismail could hear how the small speedboat bounced up and down on the waves, "we're taking our positions on port and starboard behind the stern."

"Be careful. It looks like someone warned them. I'm not sure what they're doing but it's not what you'd expect from a group of harmless passengers on a pleasure cruise. They seem to be prepared for an attack, and it also seems like the yacht's crew is left completely out of it."

"Understood. Do you want to cancel the operation?"

Ismail thought for a second. Ten million dollars? Or would five million do as well? Oh, what the heck?

"Negative, continue with the operation. But be extra careful."

"Roger that."

Ten million sounded nicer. Much, much nicer. He held the call and kept on watching what was happening.

-0-

"Okay," John spoke into the microphone of his headset, "tell me what's going on."

"Two speedboats," Cameron's voice answered. "They're taking position at port and starboard behind us, keeping a distance of roughly a hundred meters. They have trouble steering straight with the current swell."

"Are there any indications of their intentions?" Sarah asked.

"Not yet," Alison's voice came back. "Looks like they're waiting for a favorable moment. What I can see is that they don't carry any flags, but they have installed additional fuel tanks, therefore I assume that they have come a long way."

"Somalian pirates," Anne said. "this is their attack pattern. They lie in wait for ships on the open sea to board them."

"I can detect pivoting turrets with machine guns," Cameron reported, "but I don't know what kind of ammunition they're..."

She was interrupted by a sudden barrage of loud bangs, a sound that could only be gunfire. Some shots hit the Rising Star's fuselage, which resonated within the ship.

"Ah… standard ammunition," Cameron continued. "In case you haven't noticed, they opened fire on us. Lousy aiming, if you ask me, the hits are all over the place."

"Standard rounds?" Derek asked. "That means they don't seem to know what they're dealing with. Any damages?"

"None so far," Emily replied. "As you know, the windows are extra strong to withstand heavy sea, they might even be bullet proof. But if you ask me, it's only a question of time until they hit something vital – like a radar antenna for example. Any orders?"

Everyone looked at John who was kneading his lower lip between his fingers.

"Is there a way to communicate with them?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Cameron replied. "The captain has already tried. No response on all frequencies. Also, no demands from the attackers. They keep their position and fire at us."

Again, a series of bullets hit the hull of the Rising Star. John took a breath and sighed.

"All right, get your ATG's and return fire. But try to avoid any casualties. Only try to disable them."

"Roger that, John," Alison answered, "but we're seventy miles off the coast. If we disable them, they might capsize and drown in this swell."

"Then we'll take them as prisoners. We have no choice."

"Understood."

-0-

Back in Djibouti, Ismail watched as the three women who'd separated themselves from the rest of the group, walked quickly but calmly towards the hatches on deck four where the entrances were. He saw how they removed the wall panels, revealing an impressive stash of guns and ammunition.

"Bingo!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Gotcha!"

He saw how each of the three girls took two pistols in their hands. Ismail frowned and narrowed his eyes. Those were huge guns of a kind he'd had never seen before. They looked as if normal pistols had been magnified two hundred percent.

"What the…? What are those? They're enormous!"

"What did you say, boss?" the male voice came through the speaker of his phone.

"Nothing. Prepare to be fired upon!"

"Roger that."

Then Ismail saw how the three girls walked stoically back towards the stern, where they aimed at something out at sea. Even through his satellite phone, he could hear the loud bangs, followed by panicking voices on the other end of the line.

"What was that?" he asked but didn't receive an answer right away.

It took a moment before his man replied to him.

"We're under heavy fire!" he shouted. "I don't know what they're using but their rounds went through the armored walls of our cargo hold like a hot knife through butter. They barely missed the explosives we're smuggling. Preparing to return fire."

"Negative, it's too risky. Break off the attack and turn about before they..."

But his command was masked by machine gun fire. Then those loud bangs again… and screaming. And then there was silence.

The connection had broken down.

-0-

"What was that?" John asked after hearing something that sounded suspiciously like two explosions in quick succession.

"I'm sorry, John," Alison's voice replied, "It was hard to aim like this, even for us. They're gone."

"Gone?"

"Blown up. They must have had lots of explosives on board that the ATG rounds hit, that's the only explanation."

John closed his eyes.

"Any survivors?"

"None. All were killed in the explosions. I think it's safe for you to come out now."

-0-

In Djibouti, Ismail desperately tried to reach his men. But to no avail. Frustrated, he threw the satellite phone against the wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. It took him a moment to regain his composure. He couldn't blame anyone but himself. Steven had warned him. Who the hell were those people?

No matter… only one thing left to do. He entered the final part of the code into his laptop to activate the program that Steven's man had installed on board the Rising Star, then shut down his laptop and got the hell out of there. While walking to his car, he pulled out his cellphone.

"Steven? … Yes, it was a success … no, no trouble. I now know where they store the weapons ... Yes, I'm sending you the feeds … Yes, I also activated the program … No, they were all distracted … Right … And don't forget to pay me the second half … You got it, Steven."

He ended the call. Well, at least he wouldn't have to share his ten million dollars with anyone now.

-0-

On the bridge of the Rising Star, the captain and his officers stared out at sea as the two speedboats lit up the night when they exploded. Neither the captain, nor the other officers were paying any attention to the ship's systems in that moment. If they had, they'd noticed how the screens went black for a second before coming back again.

---

At the stern, the whole Connor team stared out at sea but since the Rising Star was going at her highest speed, nothing was to be seen in the night anymore.

"It looks like Steven Rogers has shot his bolt," Sarah remarked. "Only too bad we don't have any survivors to question."

"We tried to keep them alive," Cameron justified herself and her two sisters, "but the sea was too rough for precision aiming. Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Sarah said. "You couldn't have known they were loaded with explosives."

"There was nothing you could have done it," Derek agreed.

John seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Hmmm…" he uttered.

"What's on your mind?" Allie asked.

"Doesn't this attack seem strange to you?"

Everyone looked at John.

"What do you mean?" Savannah asked. "We know that Steven Rogers hired someone in Djibouti. That someone obviously organized this pirate attack."

"Yeah, but why? Steven Rogers knows that we have three Terminators on board. Therefore, he must have known that this was a suicide mission without any chance of success."

"Those men on the boats obviously didn't know that, though," Jesse pointed out.

"Right. And that's what worries me. In hindsight, it looks more like a mock attack."

"Or maybe you're overthinking it, John," Derek argued. "The 51 Society has a lot of influence, but even they will find it extremely difficult to organize an effective raid on the high seas, outside any territorial waters. Especially since there are NATO warships patrolling here, which have been informed of our presence in advance."

John sighed.

"I hope you're right."

"I suggest we go to sleep now," Sarah added, "tomorrow's another day."

"Yes," John agreed, "but there's one more thing I need to do before hitting the sack."

---

John had finished describing the recent events. For a moment, there was silence on the other end of the line.

"You're right," Catherine then agreed over the phone. "Something's fishy about that."

John sighed in relief.

"Then you agree with my gut feeling?"

"I don't know what a gut feeling is, John, but I understand your thought processes. Do your girls agree with you?"

"Cam, Alison and Emily agree that it was too easy. And they also agree that this attack looked kinda... unmotivated, without any real commitment."

"And the others?"

"Went to bed. I think they don't want to be worried anymore."

"Yes, I made the experience that from a certain point on, humans start to close themselves to reality. Even your mother or Derek. Maybe your world trip wasn't exactly helpful with keeping them on alert."

"Well, to be honest, we've been completely relying on ACE lately. They made sure that every threat we encountered was neutralized. Maybe we've gotten careless."

"Don't get me wrong but you have earned a little carelessness. Trust in your cyborg girls, John. They'll protect you, you know that."

"Yes, I know. But it would be a lot easier if we knew in advance from what or who exactly they have to protect us. Could you find out anything else about Steven Rogers?"

"John Henry has found no more suspicious activity on his side, and he's been spending the day at his office and then at home. But as I already said, we cannot tap into his phone. Every time he uses it, the connection to my tracking device is being jammed."

John sighed.

"I think there's nothing we can do at the moment."

"No. What precautions did you take?

"Alison, Emily and Cam have agreed to take turns in standing guard on deck, just in case. The ship's radar has a far wider range than their scanners, but they can also see in the infrared spectrum – which the ship's systems can't."

"Be watchful and careful, John."

"We will, Catherine. Any other news?"

"Yes. Abdul Al Hani informed me that his brother-in-law, Faisal El Banai, grudgingly accepted that no further action would be taken in the matter with the drones. I think we can close that chapter now."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Mahesh Bokhari informed me that the next full assembly of the '51 Society' will take place in Iceland in three days. I will attend as well."

"Good luck with that."

"Luck won't have anything to do with it… except for Steven Rogers, he'll begin to have a lot of bad luck from now on."

John smiled.

"Can't say he doesn't deserve it."

"Anyway, go to bed now. Get some rest, just in case."

"Will do. Bye, Catherine."

"Bye, John."

-0-

Friday, February 6th, 2009 – 03:23 p.m.

Laguna Beach

The doorbell rang and immediately, Eve started barking and ran towards the door. Caitlin Quinn was alone, working in the kitchen. Her husband, Jasper Quinn, was out of the house and wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. Also, he had a key."

"Who can it be now?" she asked aloud.

Eve replied with a mixture of barking and growling. Caitlin knew that this German Shepherd had some extraordinary intelligence for a dog and probably tried to communicate with her. Sometimes she could guess what Eve was trying to say but most of the time, Caitlin had no idea. She only knew that one bark usually meant "yes" and two barks "no". But for all the in-betweens, no one could be sure.

She looked at the monitor of the intercom system. It showed a woman and a man standing outside the gate. She recognized the man, it was James Ellison. He'd helped them with setting up the home Catherine Weaver had provided for them after they went into hiding to avoid all the media attention. However, she didn't immediately recognize the woman. She pressed the buzzer to open the gate and waited until the two visitors appeared at the front door.

"Ms Quinn," James said, shaking hands with Caitlin, "it's nice to see you again. Are you doing well?"

"Yes, very well, Mr. Ellison, thanks for asking. To what do I owe your visit?"

"When we arranged all this for you..." James gestured at the luxurious property that had once belonged to Gonzalez, one of the leading Grays, "... you asked us to let you know whenever you could do something for us in return."

Caitlin smiled.

"Yes, I remember that."

"Actually, there's something you could do for us now. By the way, this is Zoe Kruger from the C.S.I.S."

"Oh! Now I recognize you from television. It's nice to meet you."

"The feeling's mutual," Zoe replied and shook hands with Caitlin as well.

"Maybe it's better if we talked inside," James said.

"Yes, of course, come in."

They stepped inside and Caitlin closed the door. Eve barked happily, jumping up on James' legs to greet him. He chuckled and padded her head. She then sniffed at Zoe and whined a little, apparently recognizing her as a cyborg. She knelt and padded the dog's head as well. Eve seemed to be wary but stayed in place.

"John has told me all about you, Eve," Zoe stated.

After hearing his name, the German Shepherd lowered her head and seemed to be sad all of a sudden. Then she gave an inquisitive yip.

"John's fine. You probably miss them all but they're okay, don't worry. They'll be back in a couple of months."

"How's she behaving, Miss Quinn?" James asked. "I hope you don't regret taking care of her as long as the others are away?"

"Oh no, not at all. She's such a loveable doggie. Always vigilant, and so intelligent. They never told me exactly where she came from, but she's not a normal dog, right? She seems to understand every word we say."

"You're right, she's not a normal dog," Zoe confirmed. "But we can't tell you about her history, sorry."

"I understand. So.. why are you here? Is everything okay with my daughter? How's Louise?"

"Louise is fine, don't worry," James replied. "How have you settled in?"

"We're doing great. Everyone's been so helpful. We cannot thank Ms Weaver and her foundation enough for letting us live here in this fine house and for taking care of our financial issues."

"I'll let her know, she'll be happy to hear that."

"May I now know what's the reason for your visit? You said there was something I could do for you?"

"Yes," Zoe said, "we're here because you might be able to help us out with something."

"Help you out? With what?"

"You and your husband are school teachers, right?"

"Yes, Jasper was a high school teacher, and I was a primary school teacher before the thing with Louise happened. Obviously, we haven't been able to work in our jobs since then. Our faces are too well known through all the media coverage - after she was rescued by Emily."

"Your husband's not at home?" Zoe asked.

"No, he's currently at the local garden center to buy some new plants. Now that we have this huge garden, he's found that he likes gardening, saying it has helped him finding his inner balance again after all that's happened."

"Have you ever thought of private schooling?" James asked.

Caitlin frowned.

"You mean home schooling someone?"

"Yes."

"We haven't thought about it. Why do you ask?"

"We have a proposition for you," Zoe replied. "A job offer."

"A job offer? For me or for my husband?"

"For both of you actually. You would be private teachers for someone. And it would be very well paid. Would you be interested?"

Caitlin hesitated.

"I don't know, this comes very suddenly. Can I learn more about it first?"

"Of course," Zoe said. "But first, how much do you know about ancient Egypt?"

-0-

Saturday, February 7th, 2009 – 02:45 a.m.

The Arabian Sea

BOOOOOOM

John immediately stood upright in his bed. Was that an explosion? Next to him, Savannah, Allie, Alison, and Emily rose as well, Cameron was on guard duty on the bridge.

BOOOOOOM

A second explosion. Water splashed against the side of the fuselage and the windows.

"What the hell?" Savannah asked, suddenly wide awake.

She had just finished asking her question when the Rising Star began to roll slightly. John looked at the clock, it was 3 a.m.

"What is that?" Allie asked.

"That's artillery fire," Alison said. " I'd say warning shots. The first one went in front of the bow, the second one to port, a few hundred meters away."

They quickly got dressed and ran out into the corridor where they met with Sarah and the others.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah asked.

Cameron joined them, returning from the bridge.

"We're under attack," she reported, "warships, two of them. The radar didn't show them. They came out of nothing."

"What!?" John asked. "No way, who should fire at a civilian ship?"

"No one," Anne said, "unless we accidentally entered someone's territorial waters."

"According to the GPS and the radar," Cameron stated, "we are almost a hundred and fifty miles off the coast of the Arabian Peninsula."

Derek pulled out his cellphone and started the GPS tracking app.

"Whatever the ship's systems are telling you, is bullshit," he stated. "According to this, our current position is two miles off the coast of Khamasar."

"WHAT!?" Sarah asked.

BOOOOOM

A third explosion rocked the ship, closer than before. They felt how the machines of the Rising Star stopped. The loudspeakers in the ceiling crackled to life.

"We were made absolutely clear that the next shot wouldn't be a warning shot anymore," the captain's voice spoke. "We were ordered to stop and allow a boarding party to come aboard."

John looked into everyone's worried faces.

"This is serious," he then said. "I have to see what's going on. Cam, Emily, Alison, mom, Derek, you come with me. Everyone else stays here. Savannah, Allie, Jody, Lauren, you're responsible for everyone's safety. Don't go out in the open!"

Without waiting for an answer, John ran towards the stairwell. His mother, ACE and Derek followed him.

---

"What's the status, Captain?" John asked when they entered the bridge.

"Two frigates of the Khamasar navy," the Captain replied, "I've been trying to tell them that we're not in their waters, but they wouldn't listen."

It only took a quick look on the several screens on the bridge to realize that the captain was still believing to be in international waters while their cellphones told them a different story.

"Something must be wrong with the ship's computer," Emily stated and pulled out her adapter cable. "I'll check on it."

She found an access port and plugged herself in.

"But… but the navigational computer says we're a hundred and fifty miles off the…"

"Look outside!" Derek told the man, "See those lights in the night? That's either a huge fata morgana, or the city lights of the skyline of Abu Maskar. They're not even two miles away."

The captain followed his gaze and went pale.

"The ship's computer was hacked while we were visiting Petra," Emily stated and unplugged herself again. "Someone installed a malware by inserting a thumb drive. It was asleep at first and remotely activated while we were distracted by the pirates' attack. The autopilot was reprogrammed, and the computer steered us into Khamasar waters while still displaying the original course."

"I knew something was off with the pirate attack," John stated angrily, "I knew it!"

"Who could have done that?" Sarah asked. "And why installing malware? Why not simply planting a bomb or something?"

"A bomb would have been detected by us," Emily replied.

"Who could have done that?"

"Maybe one of the visitors we had on board. I made a backup of the program and will analyze it later. Maybe I can find out more about it then."

"This is a setup," John stated, "so that we would go into Khamasar territorial waters. Khamasar is the home of Kaliba and probably a bunch of vengeful folks who want to get back at us."

"Well played," Derek stated. "You gotta give them credit for that."

"Can you restore the computer systems?" John asked.

"It's not a very sophisticated malware," Emily answered, "quickly written to make the ship's system display false data and lead us off course, right into the territorial waters of Khamasar. A simple reboot of the ship's computers should purge it from the system."

John looked outside. The frigates had switched on powerful searchlights that illuminated the water surface. A tender was launched from one of the warships. Inside of it were about twenty heavily armed soldiers.

"They'll be here within the minute," he said and looked at the captain, "have you been given any further instructions?"

"No, they just told me to cut the engines and prepare to be boarded."

"What do we do?" Sarah asked.

"There's nothing we can do," Alison stated matter-of-factly, "we're vastly outgunned. Our ATG's won't help against frigates. As a matter of fact, they could sink us anytime."

"Can't you… you know, bring the boarding party under your control?" Derek asked.

"I could. But to what end? We'd still be in range of their warships' guns and missiles."

"Yeah, but…"

Derek was interrupted by a voice with a strong Arabian accent that suddenly spoke via the radio's loudspeaker.

"Rising Star, open your port side hatch, lower the gangway, and allow the boarding party to enter. Assemble all passengers and all crew members who are not actively involved in steering the ship in the middle of the observation deck. Do not offer any resistance. The frigate crews are watching closely what's going on, and they have orders to open fire on you if there's the slightest sign of resistance. Acknowledge receiving this message and surrender to our authority."

"They have to know something about who we really are and who we have on board," Derek said, looking at ACE, "otherwise they wouldn't emphasize their superiority that much."

"You don't know that," Sarah argued, "maybe they are just extra careful."

"Call it gut feeling of a soldier, Sarah."

"I think Derek's right," John stated, "at least to some extent. They want us to know that resistance is futile. And I think the pirate attack was just a diversion to allow the malware to be activated without anyone noticing."

"Yes," Emily agreed, "for it to activate itself, the screens must have gone black for a second or two. With everyone looking outside during the pirate attack, probably nobody paid attention to the ship's computer."

"So, what do we do, John?" Cameron asked.

John thought for a moment.

"We're left with no choice," he then said, "we're vastly outgunned, and while we're at sea, any action on our part involves the risk of members of our team being injured or killed. That risk is too great."

"So, we surrender?"

"Let's call it a tactical retreat. My guess is they'll be escorting us into the port of Abu Maskar. Not much will happen until then."

"And then what?" Sarah asked. "What happens when we're there?"

"I don't know yet. I'll think of something. We'll reassess the situation and decide on the basis of the then known facts."

"In other words, we'll improvise?"

"Do you have a better idea, mom?"

Sarah looked at her son, then lowered her head.

"No."

John faced the captain who was eagerly awaiting their decision.

"Tell them."

"Yes, Sir."

The captain turned around and reached for the microphone to announce their surrender.

"We have one advantage, though," John said.

"Which one?" Derek asked.

"If our assumption is right and they know who we have on board, their threat only works as long as we're close together as a group, as long as any action could result in injuring or killing team members. Separating us would be too much of a risk. That could be an advantage we can use as a basis for a strategy."

"Assuming they really know we have cyborgs among us but don't know who exactly they are. That's a big leap, John."

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" John turned towards the captain. "Open the hatch and lower the gangway. We'll assemble everyone on deck one, as requested."

---

Three minutes later, the ship echoed from the running of army boots on the wooden planks. The Connor team and almost the entire crew had gathered in the middle of the observation deck, which had only one entrance. A group of armed soldiers entered the deck and spread out on both sides, pointing their rifles at them. Baby Sydney cried in Lauren's arms. A navy officer followed behind the soldiers. He didn't hold a rifle, he only wore a pistol in a holster on his belt, and he looked at the group triumphantly. Apparently he was very satisfied with himself.

"My name is Colonel Salman al-Jubeir of the royal guard of Khamasar," he said with a sleazy smile. "Consider yourself prisoners. We'll escort you to Abu Maskar, where you will be presented to the committing magistrate."

"What's the charge?" Sarah asked. "What are we supposed to have done?"

"The charge is arms smuggling to support the rebels."

Anne scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, "your so-called rebels couldn't even raid a retirement home."

"Anne," John admonished her, "this is not the time." He looked at Colonel al-Jubeir. "Are we allowed to make a phone call?"

"Not at the moment," the man replied. "You will now hand over your cellphones and everything else you have on you besides your clothes. Do not try to do anything stupid. Our guns are locked and loaded with a special kind of ammunition. It's armor-piercing, but if it doesn't penetrate its target, it'll explode into hundreds of deadly shrapnel, killing everyone in a ten-meter radius."

"Now we know for sure," Derek whispered.

"Yes, and we know that Steven Rogers his involved," Cameron whispered back. "His company has recently come up with that kind of ammo. It's still being tested and not available on the market."

While two of the soldiers collected all the items under the observing eyes of their comrades, another naval officer came running to Colonel al-Jubeir, said something to him in Arabic and handed him one of the ATG's. The Colonel took it and smiled.

"This definitely is a setup," Sarah whispered to her son. "Nobody would find those hidden cabinets so quickly if they wouldn't know where to look for it."

"Yes," John whispered back, "it looks like they were tipped off."

"But how? Even if you do a thorough search…"

"The security cameras," Emily said. "Maybe the ship's computer is not the only thing that got tampered with."

"You mean, somebody was watching us?" Savannah asked.

"Yes…" Cameron confirmed quietly, "and when the pirates attacked, we inadvertently revealed where we store our weapons."

"It looks like that pirate attack was more than just a diversion after all," John summarized and pressed his lips together. "Someone has been spying on us the whole time."

"SILENCE!" Colonel al-Jubeir shouted, "No talking!"

He then walked over to them, holding the ATG in his hands.

"Well, well, well… looks like the tip was right after all. We've found your weapon's stash. Perhaps I should tell you that weapons smuggling in Khamasar is punishable by death."

"Those are strictly for self-defense," Sarah said.

The Colonel grinned.

"Self-defense, huh? You need machine guns, rocket launchers and explosives for self-defense?"

"Well, as you can see, you need these things here. Only we didn't realize that the Khamasar Navy deigns to raid civilian ships like common pirates."

The grin disappeared from Colonel el-Jubeir's face and he slapped Sarah hard. John clenched his fists and felt how both Cameron and Emily held him back by his arms to prevent him from doing something stupid. Sarah touched her lip, it was bleeding.

"Beating women, huh?" she asked. "Is that how you made your career?"

The Colonel looked furious but understood that Sarah was only trying to provoke him even more. One could see how he had to pull himself together to not beat her again. His expression changed to a wide grin once more.

"We'll see if you still talk like that after your interrogations with the military police. Everyone down on the floor now! And nobody talks until you're being talked to!"

-0-

Saturday, February 7th, 2009 – 04:58 a.m.

Abu Maskar (Emirate of Khamasar)

Faisal El Banai stood at the pier and watched as the Rising Star was brought into the port and moored at the end of the pier. Next to him, a company of elite soldiers awaited the yacht with the Connor team on board. Small rubber dinghies with divers on board patrolled the harbor to make sure no one tried to escape by jumping overboard. Everything was brightly lit with floodlights, and the whole area was cordoned off.

The hatch opened and the gangway was lowered. The elite soldiers entered the Rising Star, beginning to search the ship from top to bottom. The crew and the captain were sorted out and taken away to a prison, making any attempt to escape very difficult. Even with three cyborgs, they wouldn't be able to steer the Rising Star without the crew and without any nautical knowledge. All their weapons and ammunition were confiscated, including all six Anti Terminator Guns.

When Faisal entered the observation deck, he enjoyed the scenery for a moment. Still forced to sit tightly together on the ground, surrounded by armed soldiers, the Connor team had to watch helplessly as their valued weapons were carried off the yacht in crates with military tags and loaded onto army trucks. Faisal saw their frustration and anger and enjoyed it. He counted nineteen people - seven men and twelve women - plus a crying baby and nodded in satisfaction. Three of them might be powerful cyborgs, but they knew if they decided to put up a fight, they'd risk the lives of their human friends against such superior forces. Even if they somehow made it off the Rising Star, they'd still be facing a whole country that had an army, a navy, and an air force – all very modern and well equipped. This surely was a situation they'd not expected to find themselves in.

No help was to be expected from the outside either. By the time anyone back in America were informed and could respond or intervene on their behalf, facts would already have been created. They surely knew that this was a very dire situation from which there would be no escape - at least not without risking the death of their team members. Steven Rogers had been right, they remained passive in the face of such a massive threat. Again, Faisal couldn't help but smile and feel extremely triumphant.

Colonel el-Jubeir spotted Faisal and saluted him.

"The operation is a complete success, General," he said in Arabic. "They have surrendered unconditionally."

"Good, good. Well done, Colonel. The Emir will certainly decorate you for it."

The Colonel looked happy and showed Faisal the ATG.

"Among other things, we found these. It's a large caliber weapon of a kind we've never seen."

Faisal took the Anti Terminator Gun and weighed it in his hands. Then he looked over the Connor team, who were staring daggers at them. Faisal enjoyed his triumph even more.

"My name is General Faisal El Banai," he said in English. "I am the chief of staff of the armed forces of Khamasar. I'm related to the royal family and also a board member of Kaliba International. And in case you were wondering, it was I who arranged for your stay here."

"What do you want?" John asked. "We've done nothing wrong."

"It's in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Connor. From our point of view, you're team is responsible for some things that we can't just let pass."

Faisal noted that they looked back at him in shock, probably asking themselves how he knew who John really was.

"Who is John Connor? My name is John O'Connell, you must confuse me with someone else."

Faisal grinned.

"No, my young friend. You are John Connor, and that woman next to you is Sarah Connor, your mother. And I'm sure we'll soon know who the rest of you are as well. We have our methods of finding out such things. You might have been able to fool the authorities of your own country, but we at Kaliba still have extensive files about you and your mother. Strange, I figured you were older, Ms Connor and, well... less endowed, to be honest."

"I'm trying to stay on the sunny side of life," Sarah replied sarcastically. "And my name is Sarah Dixon. This is my husband, Charley Dixon."

"The only thing I don't know yet," Faisal continued unfazed, ignoring her remark, "is which of you pretty young women are the three cyborg girls from Los Angeles."

"The three what?" Sarah asked.

Faisal gave his men a sign and they readied their guns.

"I'm sure Colonel el-Jubeir has informed you about the ammunition these army rifles are loaded with. I want the three cyborgs to stand up now."

Faisal saw that the members of the Connor team looked shocked about the revelation that he knew about the cyborgs. They looked at John - obviously seeking advice or a command from him. But Faisal noted with satisfaction that the young man looked pale and insecure, obviously clueless about what to say or do.

"NOW!" Faisal shouted. "Or we'll open fire on you!"

Cameron, Alison, and Emily looked at John. He closed his eyes, lowered his head, and nodded. The look on the three cyborg girls' faces was heartbreaking. Then, slowly, they rose and stood up.

"Excellent," Faisal said, pulled the pistol out of the holster on his belt and fired a bullet at each of them.

The team members gasped and ducked. The bullet wounds on the girls' torsos healed in an instant.

"Just to make sure," Faisal stated with a grin. "Now, raise your hands and step out of the group. Slowly. Don't try anything stupid or you know what will happen."

The three cyborg girls did as they were told.

"Now... power down. Shut yourself off. I know you can do that willingly."

Again the three cyborg girls looked at John and looked for help or advice, but it seemed as if he was paralyzed with fear. Tears ran down his face and it filled Faisal with deep satisfaction. The entire team seemed too intimidated to do anything, and the prospect of losing their protectors had obviously driven them to despair. When the three cyborgs hesitated to shut themselves down, Faisal pointed his gun at John's head.

"You have five seconds," he said in a threatening tone. "Five… four… three… two…"

The three cyborg girls powered down and sank lifeless to the floor. Faisal grinned broadly. He pointed his gun at Sarah's head and looked at John.

"Remove their chips," he said. "Or everyone in your team dies, starting with your mother."

Faisal saw how John slowly stood up, pale, shaking, and teary-eyed. He stepped out of the group and walked over to where his three wives had sunken to the floor, staring into nothingness with lifeless eyes. Faisal also noted how everyone else was crying as well and seemed paralyzed in fear.

"I… I need a knife," John said with a trembling voice. "A... and a screwdriver."

One of the soldiers handed him the necessary tools. He started with Emily, cutting a circle into the flesh on the right side of her head with trembling hands, freeing the black skull. He then removed the protective cap and pulled out the chip. He repeated the procedure with Cameron's skull, removing her chip as well. Finally, he knelt next to Alison and put his hand on her cheeks. he whispered something in her ear and the crevice appeared around her face and it swung to the side, freeing the access port to her chip. He pulled that one out as well.

Then he stood up and slowly walked over to Faisal who held out his hand. Reluctantly, John put the three cyborg chips into his hand. The man looked absolutely triumphant.

"Excellent," he said, put the three chips into a plastic bag he'd pulled out of his pocket, and looked at his elite soldiers, "take these bodies away to the Kaliba research facility."

Again, Faisal noted with satisfaction how desperate and frightened the Connor team looked when the lifeless bodies of their three cyborg protectors were being carried away and loaded onto a truck that waited on the pier.

"I would love to chat with you a little longer," he said, "but I'm afraid I have some commitments I need to keep. Colonel el-Jubeir, take them away and lock them up. Solitary confinement for everyone until further notice. And see that they organize a midwife for the baby."

"Yes, Sir," the Colonel replied and gestured to his men.

The soldiers handcuffed all team members and then took them away.

"I think we can end the state of alert now, Colonel," Faisal said. "Make sure that all soldiers return to their barracks and that the two frigates return to the naval base."

Colonel el-Jubeir saluted him and left the Rising Star. Faisal El Banai followed him and while walking down the gangway, observed how the Connor team was directed to a waiting bus that had been converted into a prisoner transport.

He looked at the three cyborg chips in the plastic bag in his hand and smiled. This promised to become a really nice day.

… to be continued

-0-0-0-

Author's notes:

- It's cliffhanger time again. Yay! :-D

- About the emirate of Khamasar… Not much is known about Kaliba except that it's a company located in the Middle East. I had long shied away from pinpointing the location of the infamous company but the closer the Rising Star came to the area, the more it became necessary. So, I invented the fictional emirate of Khamasar. It's not unheard of, many use that stylistic device in novels or movies. In my imagination, Khamasar is located on the coast of the Arabian Sea, squeezed between Oman and Yemen.

---

- Maybe I should stress again that my motivation to continue with writing rises and falls with the feedback I get. The number of views isn't a feedback, that's just an indicator how many clicks my stories get. I really want to continue writing but it would be easier with more feedback from my readers. Sadly, except for a few loyal "usual suspects", almost nobody has written a review lately. It doesn't break anybody's back if they take five minutes to tell me their opinions, views and also what they like or dislike. I know the times are hard and maybe the motivation to write a review is currently low. But The Sarah Connor Chronicles are now available on streaming services, which might lead some viewers here. Let's give them the feeling that the FanFiction community of TSCC is still alive and hasn't fallen into apathy :-)