Terminator: No Fate But What We Make

Chapter 30: The Yellow Brick Road

Los Angeles, California, August 28, 2027: Resistance Headquarters: Fort Griffith

The containment cell was enough to keep the liquid metal in place. At least that was what he was told. He knew that T-1000's were nothing but resilient. Able to find any means of acquiring it's target. The sheer fear this base would hold if something like this were to ever let loose. The wrath of such a killing machine would leave this base and the Resistance in ruin.

Maybe that wasn't all that dwells deep within his mind? There was something that lingered in this machine he glared at for hours on end. The past three weeks have been nothing but chaos. After Skynet's raid on two of the most important bunkers within the entire world; everything from food, to munitions were running thin.

Rations had to be given to every soldier to decrease the usage of provisions. One canteen per person, per day was allowed. With most stock gone, it was beginning to look like trash digging would happen soon.

He wondered. Did Skynet know? Was it tipped off by the mole to destroy the only resources that kept the entire L.A. County faction fed?

All of this began to eat away at his mind. All communication with surrounding bases had been lost three days ago. Skynet forces were now heavy in the area, when previously, they focused their search around and inside the ruins of downtown. A change of protocol he concluded. Once the nest had been found, Skynet sought to eliminate the hive.

Again, his focus fell on the machine.

"Sir, the nanotechnology inside this machine's structure is showing steady growth. However…"

"Just get to the point," John demanded simply.

"There is no way to reprogram such a being. There is no chip, no way to stop it. Killing it after it reaches full capacity will be extremely difficult if not impossible."

"Let's hope we don't have to do that then," John muttered. He looked over at the young engineer with prowess. "Assemble your crew, and start designing a better containment cell for this thing. I want to know what it knows."

"Yes sir," the young engineer accepted and left the room.

Finally being alone, he was able to collect his thoughts once more. John took a seat on a nearby stool, all while he continued to gaze at this perfect killing machine. This machine was special. What it held inside of it's Poly Alloy shell, was something that gave him hope for the first time in what felt like forever. Not since…

Allison.

Nothing was fair in this world. Fate bestowed what it would to him. Being destined to feel the pain of losing those he loved. A Messiah was never said to have a happy life. Only that he shall save mankind from the evil entity that is Skynet.

He gazed down at the palm of his hand, seeing that chip. Alex nor Williams thought what he was thinking. They couldn't put two and two together. Both this chip and Cameron's chip was designed and manufactured by Skynet in the year 2027. There was very little information he was able to pull off. But there was one thing he was absolutely set on. It was enough.

Getting up out of his chair, the hardened General set out the room and down the corridor. Like he expected, his fellow soldiers saluted him. It had to be out of habit, he thought. He saw how these men looked at him. The look of blame and disapproval.

If he wasn't running thin on time, there'd be hell to pay for their mistreatment. Cameron was busy which bought him some time. She was out in the loading bay helping secure yet another crashed out HK-VTOL. So many of them have been defecting recently, that he began to forget how much useful hardware and scrap was in storage.

Quickly making a left down the hall, followed by an immediate right, he approached the bunker workstations. The brightest minds in the entirety of the Resistance worked here, creating new technologies to aid in the fight against Skynet. Engineers who were working around the clock, in the development stages of creating a new, more secure containment cell.

"Attention! The General is in our presence!" The head Engineer announced. All immediately stood up, saluting John.

"At ease." John nodded in approval. At last a room full of people he trusted. Handpicked himself based on their wisdom and skills. But none of that mattered to him, only loyalty.

"What brings you here, if I may ask, sir?" The head engineer inquired.

Walking up to the head of the team, John picked out of his pocket, the chip scavenged off the Polymimetic Alloy.

"Martinez, Is there any way I can see what is on this?"

Letting him take the chip, Martinez put on his spectacles and closely looked at the device. After a long minute of squinting and examining every square inch of the chip, the engineer left John's presence with intrigument written on his face. John followed after the man to his messy station which was full of prototype equipment.

"You didn't answer my question, Martinez," John gritted his teeth.

"I know, I know, sir, but I have to be sure! I've never seen something designed like this before!"

"Is there anything in it?" John irritability asked one more time.

"Hold on one second…"

Taking the time to correctly connect the chip into a connector port, no different than a T-888 CPU port, the engineer booted up his computer. Routing the exact voltage through this chip was absolutely necessary, unless they risked a possible message being sent out to Skynet from this base. Certain functions would lay dormant if they played their cards right.

Now typing away, John watched every fluid motion that Martinez had made, intrigued on how his mentorship, such a bright mind would make such an impact. If Martinez were more bold he would have considered him a successor to Tech-Com.

With patience he watched the engineer hack away through some of the defensive protocols hidden within the CPU. The connection, however, was weak. Static was what mostly appeared on screen.

Martinez scratched his chin. "That's what I was afraid of… tiny fractures in this chip won't allow me to route enough power through in order for us to see what is on this. I'm sorry, General."

"Don't worry about it, Martinez. You did all you could. That I thank you for." John agreed in defeat. With a hand on the young interns shoulder, he really hoped there was at least something useful on it. Rooted deep within the killer cyborgs was this. Something as vulnerable as a heart or a brain.

Unless….

The young engineer noticed sparks in his leader's eyes, as he watched his General take his station and began to type away at the computer.

"Martinez, I need the room to myself for a few minutes."

With the engineer agreeing to the General's subtle wish, he motioned for his team to quickly leave the room, giving John the silence he needed.

Pulling up a more comfortable chair, he took off his military coat, placing it behind him on the back of the chair. Finally he could put his real skills into use. Now he was more than determined to hack into this chip.

Static still engulfed the screen. There was no way of seeing what was deep within the chip's files. Mission logs, Termination orders, and decision making processes were completely gone.

After an endless hour of approaching the chip in a new way, the same outcome happened. Lines of code weren't being transmitted to the screen like where they should be. Code that would be present in any model's code predating even the T-800.

This is a waste of time, John. You aren't getting anywhere with this garbage.

No code, no way of accessing the chip. Whatever that T-1000 was trying to do to protect such a device, failed. That feeling, that faith he had. It was for nothing.

"FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH!"

With more than eighteen years worth of loss, judgement, and agony raining down upon his shoulders, all he could do was swipe every piece of equipment off the desk. With a loud crash of prototypes, and other devices landing on the floor, John took a deep breath. Infuriated now more than ever, he needed to stand. He needed to think. It seemed that none of that helped anymore. His head was clouded with the pressure of being expected to save an entire race. Nothing he could ever do was enough. There were still those who challenged his loyalty, his determination to this rebellion.

Will you join us?

Quickly he whirled around and gazed at the still standing screen. A message appeared out of nowhere. What the fuck was that!?

It's time to go

It's time to go

It's time to go

I'm sorry John

I'm sorry John

I'm sorry John

Please don't do this!

He slowly approached the screen, flabbergasted at the sight. It worked. The chip worked! But… For the first time in years he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. The voice was impossible to make out. But that phrase… "I'm sorry John." It was too familiar...

•••

The door flew wide open, with four individuals speedily heading inside. There he expected to find a machine, the supposed AI built by this Catherine Weaver. At least that's what he hoped. His first glance at who was sitting in that chair made his heart sink. Cameron's lifeless body resting in a chair located in the middle of the room.

Quickly he rushed over to her, searching for the reason why she was in this state. He dug through what remained of her brown hair, finding her scalp, and locating the port seal. His eyes widened in terror at what he found. The chip missing from her CPU port.

"Her chip, It's gone!" he exclaimed in exasperation. He gazed down at the table in front of him, seeing only a bloody knife. Panic started to transpire in his mind. He knew what had happened here.

"Where is he? Th-the John Henry!?" he exclaimed with anger and panic in his voice. "He took her chip, so where did he go?!"

A brief moment of silence lay in the air, as all were thrown into a whirlwind of confusion. Catherine Weaver approached Cameron's body examining it from a safe distance. A conclusion she came up with to what happened here.

"He didn't take the chip… she gave it to him."

As the stoic woman made her way towards a power terminal, Sarah gazed at her son. Seeing the panic in his eyes, the way he reacted when he saw Cameron's body laying there lifeless… an empty shell that was nothing now but scrap.

She looked over at the monitor behind Cameron and what she noticed shocked her to say the very least. Not even her son noticed what was being displayed.

"John..." she motioned her head towards the monitor.

Instantly he turned around, gazing behind him. What he saw baffled him more and more. Again his heart sank.

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

I'M SORRY JOHN

This was all too sudden. The sheer amount of shock he felt tense up in his feet and hands. A part of him wanted to read that message over and over again, never wanting to stop. They just repeated in a constant loop. He looked around the room trying to calm himself down, but not succeeding in any way.

"Where is he?" He asked from behind Catherine.

With no intention of turning to answer, she only continued to type steadily on the terminal.

"Not where…"

"When."

•••

In an instant, John snapped out of his thoughts when a loud blare echoed throughout the room. What the hell? He thought.

There couldn't have been a breach in the base already!? Skynet had found this location. All Hell was about to get loose. He had to evacuate.

No, he needed to find Cameron.

In dismay, he pulled out the chip, and put the chain, attached, around his neck. Without another thought he ran to the door, making sure to grab his coat and sidearm before leaving.

Soldiers were gearing up, heading above ground to fight, rushing down the halls with sweat and fear filling their eyes. He didn't blame them for what was going through their heads. It was a suicide mission.

Only acknowledging them, John turned and headed in the opposite direction.

However, before he could even take a step, he felt a burning sensation spread across the left side of his ribs, forcing him to the ground. The overwhelming burning pain made it nearly impossible to get up, let alone move without passing out.

His eyes felt heavy, the alarms seemed to be getting faint. He only heard echoes from behind. Why didn't the machine end him? Complete its mission?

"We are better off without you."

As John took one more glance behind him, it wasn't the machines who fired.

Los Angeles, California, December 17, 2007: (Ellison Residence)

3:42 am

Was all of this an act of terriosm? Or was this worse? Zeria Corp was owned by Catherine Weaver, a citizen of Scotland. This was an international emergency, and he was being put on the front lines. This case was more important than the drug trafficking and other typical Los Angeles crime. If this is in fact terriosm, priority will be taken.

The neighborhood was dark. That gave Matthews the perfect cover he needed for his stakeout. The first on FBI Administrator: Sinclair's list, was former Agent Ellison. His first impression of the man was very passive. Like he expected the questions he was given. Nothing seemed to surprise the man.

But does that make him guilty?

Over a dozen agents were killed in the line of his leadership. He was the only one to live to tell about what happened that day and he refused to speak on the matter.

Almost all alarms rang in his head, telling him that this was the guy. That the explosion was an inside job, because James Ellison was indeed a psychopath. But that was the thing. Inside James's house, he noticed a cross on the wall. Let it be said for him, growing up Catholic, a man who has faith would never commit such a heinous crime.

From across the street, he continued to watch the former agent's house. For the past three hours it was dark. Ellison must have turned in for the night. But his job was to make sure Ellison was cleared of his suspicion in being the primary suspect in the terrorist attack. Until he was certain that Ellison wasn't sneaking out of the house in pursuit for more illegal activities.

It was getting very late. There was no signs of potential criminal actions

Right now getting home to his wife and son was on his mind. Getting some rest and trying again in the morning.

With that in mind, Matthews grabbed hold of the keys, and put them in the ignition. However, before he could turn on his squad car, he suddenly stopped as he heard footsteps approaching from behind

Quickly he sunk in his seat while pulling out his service firearm, getting ready for whomever was approaching. However the sounds of footsteps on asphalt proved otherwise. Someone was crossing the street.

Matthews peeked over the driver side door, seeing a woman in a sundress strolling up towards the house.

This just got interesting….

The Detective pulled out a pair of binoculars from the glovebox and used them to get a better view of who this was. More specifically, why she was here this late. The more he looked, the more curious he became. Her dress reminisced that of rose petals in a vast garden around her body. More so, to him at least, they just looked like blotches of a dark color. Maybe he would never understand a women's style.

Was she a prostitute? A call girl maybe? A divorced man like James Ellison would surely get lonely right?

Alas it was too dark to see her fully. He needed to investigate what was this woman's reason for being here.

Quietly Detective Matthews had exited his vehicle, taking all the precautions to stay silent. As he tiptoed his way across the street, and into Agent Ellison's front yard. The darkness was his ally, but also his enemy. It was harder to see who he was chasing, when he couldn't even get a grasp on where he was going.

Something piqued in his head while he slowly stepped closer. What was the plan when he approached her? Was there a different reason for her being here? What if he found out the most unlikely truth? This woman and Ellison could be possibly conspiring with each other in the Zeira Corp bombing. If this turned out to be true, this would be national news. A rogue agent out to destroy his country like the terrorists he once hunted.

*Krack!*

Shit! Matthews thought to himself. He quickly withdrew himself and hid behind a nearby bush. As he peeked over the hedge, he saw the woman stop, and scanned the entire neighborhood. Once she looked around, seeing no present threats, she approached the door, walking up the steps, and reaching for the doorbell.

However, before any further movements were made, another twig snapping caught her attention once more. Again, she scanned the area looking for threats. Before she could assess the situation, something took hold of her messy black hair.

With his limited visual on the scene, all he could see was a dark shadow take hold, and pull the woman by the back of her hair, and hurdling her like a ragdoll..

Matthew's jaw dropped at this sight. This unknown female was sent flying yards away. That slight terror became more apparent when that very same woman stood up, brushing that fall off like it was nothing.

Closer and closer the shadow stalked closer to the female, It's hand taking on the shape of a blade.

What the hell is going on here!? The Detective exclaimed in his head.

With the opposing figure leaving the shadow of the moonlight, he finally had a more detailed view of the attacker. Baffled, Matthews froze. Sheer terror filled every square inch of his body.

No… no. It…. It can't be!?

Catherine Weaver hacked and slashed at the woman, revealing a metallic surface underneath the glowing pale skin.

As she concluded, a machine. This didn't come as a surprise. Without much thought, Weaver continued to swing her sharp metal blades at the machine, successfully landing the killing blow. Falling into the grass, dead, the machine's eyes glowed red as it processed one last memory. The final image of the red headed woman emerging victorious.

With the smallest of smiles appearing on the T-1001, it quickly faded as she witnessed a car speed down the quiet neighborhood street.

Gazing back down at the slain machine, she was appalled to have found nothing in it's once present place. A frown now took place on Weaver's lips. Well, there went her chance to acquire information on where this machine came from.

Turning on her heels, Catherine stalked up to Ellisons door and knocked methodically four times. She patiently waited, hearing footsteps, followed by the porch light turning on. When the door opened, she noticed the man had a sudden awakening.

"Catherine?" Ellison rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing here? It's four in the morning."

Completely ignoring Ellison's question, she shot past him and into his home, making her way upstairs.

"Miss Weaver, tell me what's going on!" Ellison demanded while in pursuit.

Finally able to get the machine to stop what she was doing, Catherine turned to face Ellison with the blank mask she always wore. "This location is compromised, Savannah is no longer safe here."

With that being said, she continued down the hall turning left into the bedroom.

Seeing the young girl asleep, she quietly approached the bedside and took a seat on the soft cushion. With gentle ease, she lightly shook Savannah until she regained consciousness.

"Mommy?" Savannah inquired tiredly.

"Savannah we have to go," came Weaver's immediate reply.

"Is the monster back?" She asked with timidness.

"No. I scared it away. But I don't know for how long."

"Catherine, will you please tell me what happened?" Ellison demanded with irritability.

As such, Weaver stood up and walked over to Ellison. "I was tracking down a lead for Sarah. One of Adam White's attorneys: Linda Fambrough. I found her apartment but it was empty. The only thing that I found was an address written on a letter."

"That address was this one…" Ellison finished. Damn, he knew it was no longer safe. Being mixed up in this future war nonsense. He told Charley to get out and he should have followed his own advice. "Where will we go?"

"Due to me being… dead, all my assets and property holdings have been claimed by the city of L.A. Sarah, however, has told me of another safehouse setup just outside of Palmdale."

"Do you have the address?" Ellison asked. This is what he feared. He was leaving his own life to protect this little girl.

While Weaver told her daughter to grab her things, she exchanged addresses and means of contact once they left the city. Once Ellison had his things and Savannah was patiently waiting in the living room, Weaver helped them load up for their journey. When fastening Savannah's seatbelt, taking all the precautions of vehicle safety, she was surprised when the young redhead had wrapped her arms around her own neck. "I'm sorry Savannah, I thought this place was safe. It seems I have poor judgement. Listen to Ellison just like we discussed before."

"So what are you going to do about this Linda Fambrough?" Ellison asked.

"Same mission as before. Acquire the machine and extract information."

Taking that answer for now, he nodded simply. "Well ... good luck. Kill the bitch for me."

"Good luck to you too, Ellison," Weaver acknowledged.

Patiently watching Ellison and Savannah drive away, she turned around and looked down at the small blood tricklets in the grass. Whoever was here. Linda Fambrough, or not, she has to handle that machine first.

Doing what she did best, Weaver knelt down and soaked the blood through her fingers. Before long, she took on the appearance of the very machine who had threatened her daughter.

•••

A few blocks away from the attack, the very same woman strolled out of the brush and into an open field full of luscious trees and park benches. Examining her chest wound, she pulled away the fabric, revealing a blood soaked puncture encasing a metallic surface underneath.

/: SCANNING…

/: CARBON FIBER ENDOSKELETON INTEGRITY: 59.6%

/: SCANNING…

/: ANALYZING…

/: BREACH DETECTED

/: WARNING!

/: POWER CORE EXPOSED!

/: MAINTENANCE REQUIRED!

Avoiding further contact with that other machine would be a logical solution. Replacement parts would be a priority, being in full working order to carry out her mission, needing for self repairs later.

She scanned her surroundings, where upon noticing a gas station across from the empty street, still open by her conclusion. These locations often had a payphone or some other form of communication nearby.

A call needed to be made.

As she pulled the door open, stepping inside the store, her eyes wandered at the assortment of snacks and other items for people driving by. Ultimately, however, her eyes then fell on to the gas clerk behind the counter. approaching the counter, keeping an even gaze on the young teenage girl.

"I need to make a call."

"Last I checked payphones were no longer a thing," the clerk sarcastically quipped. Noticing the blood on the woman's shirt, even a glint of a metallic surface underneath. "What happened to you anyway?"

Before another thought could be processed, the young clerk found a tight grip around her neck, before a large snap sent her whole body limp.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

Rounding the desk, she knelt down, fishing through the dead clerks pockets until she found a BlackBerry cellphone. She then dialed a number, making sure to use the special key code. The phone rang for a short moment before a gruff voice picked up.

"Do you have the girl?"

"No. Catherine Weaver stopped me. It seems she has survived the bombing."

"Why didn't you pursue her?"

"My body has sustained critical damage. With the machine presence I was forced to evade and seek self-repair."

"Then contact me when it is done. I want the girl terminated."

"Affirmative."

With the woman smashing the phone to pieces with her grip, she went into the backroom, making sure to erase all cctv camera footage. Now that it was done, her first mission priority was seeking repair.

Then, Savannah Weaver.

Los Angeles, California, December 17, 2007:

Quickly walking into his home, Detective Matthews set his keys down and took a seat on the nearby sofa. One thing echoed throughout his mind, replaying like a broken record.

What that was... what he saw. Darkness made it difficult to see both assailants, making them impossible to identify. They were female, fit physique, yet feminine. Both wearing what appeared to be dresses.

With that thought, Matthews slapped his forehead.

Stupid cop brain!

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, he gently sat on the recliner behind him, then lighting the small cigarette with a match.

Why must he analyze every hint, every possible clue? But that attack…

That attack!

That churning feeling stirring like it did back at the residence. What ever happened back there, how that fight broke out.

They aren't human.

*Flick!*

With his mind being immediately scrambled by the sudden rays of light engulfing the entire living room, he looked over at the door frame into the hallway.

"What are you doing home so late?" A woman inquired in a drowsy voice.

"I just needed to come home and think, Selena. Let me please have a moment to myself!" Matthews simply acknowledged in slight irritation.

"Well you don't have to give me that fucking tone!" The woman defensively hissed. "You're gone every day, only coming home when you feel like it!"

"I don't have time for this! We have our son sleeping upstairs and your first instinct is to yell at me?"

About to move her lips to speak, Selena reluctantly decided against. "I'm sorry. But why are you home? This doesn't seem like you."

"I saw something."

"Do you want to talk to me about what you saw?" She softly asked her husband.

She wouldn't believe me, he thought to himself. How was he to even believe something so outrageous? "It was just a rough day at the office."

Giving a visible frown, Matthew's wife left the living room, leaving the light on behind her.

This is for the best, He agreed. In the morning, he would need to go back to Ellisons.

The Next Morning: Connor Household

With no need to sleep, Cameron made sure everything around the house was safe. The two Resistance fighters were still asleep in the living room, and so was everyone else around the house. Sarah informed her that Catherine Weaver had left to track down one of Adam White's lawyers. With the sun barely rising in the sky, Cameron set out upstairs to check on John. With Emily in their house, she didn't trust her whatsoever. Emily was hiding something, and she could tell that she was lying.

When Cameron opened John's door, she saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. No nightmares plagued him like they used to.

Deciding to let him get more rest, Cameron had left to go check on someone else. Sarah had let Emily sleep in hers and Alex's room last night, forcing the hybrid to sleep downstairs in Sarah's room.

One thing she was certain of. If Emily touched her favorite Jacket, there would be a broken neck in her future.

As Cameron opened the door, she expected to see the young teenage girl still sleeping like John. However, that wasn't the case as the bed was empty. All sheets and blankets were scattered about.

What happened here?

Cameron's machine instincts kicked in and she withdrew her gun from the back of her black jeans. She then stalked out of the room and down the hall where she stopped at the bathroom door. A faint muffle could be heard, along with a few objects inside being shuffled around. She heard whispers inside. As if she was talking to someone.

With one fluid motion, Cameron opened the door and pushed it open. She immediately recognized that it was in fact Emily. But she was talking to someone on her cell phone from what she could conclude.

The sudden barge into the bathroom caught Emily off guard. She glanced over at Cameron whom glared at her before she quickly put away the phone.

"What are you doing?" she demanded in a scary tone.

"N... nothing," Emily answered timidly. "I... was just calling a friend… that's all."

The shankiness of this girl was enough to catch her eye. With suspicion, Cameron stepped closer, still glaring at Emily with intent. "Who were you talking to?"

"It's none of your business!" Emily hissed with venom.

"It is my business," Cameron pressed. "If it hurts John or anyone else in this house, I will hold you accountable. Now, who were you talking to?"

"For John's sister you really are incompetent!" Emily exclaimed. "I was talking to my mother."

"Why? Didn't you say that the scratch on your face came from your parents?" Cameron inquired suspiciously with her usual head tilt.

"My father did," Emily reminded with distaste. "Thanks for making my day start out so peachy!"

The tone was very adjacent to Alex's upon her being questioned. Emily was no different. Humans all seemed the same in some aspects.

Concluding that this was called sarcasm, and that she probably pissed off Emily, Cameron turned on her heels, and left the bathroom. Even down the hall, she didn't let her eyes nor ears leave what was possibly happening inside.

Still staring down the hall, Cameron knocked on John's door four times, waiting for him to open. She knew he didn't like her abruptly entering especially when he was possibly getting dressed.

Although…

That stray thought soon passed as she felt John's presence on the opposite side of the door. Relief rushed through her once she caught the first glimpse of him.

"What?" he asked with a goofy smile.

"Emily is up to something and I don't like it," she said with all seriousness.

John rolled his eyes and dragged her into the room, before shutting the door. "You do know that announcing anything like that in this house, at this hour, is going to hear that, right?"

"Sorry…" Cameron apologized. "I'm still looking for proof."

"Well you almost ruined your chances just a minute ago," John pointed out.

"I have a question," Cameron asked stoically. With John giving her the go-ahead, she explained. "Do you trust Emily?"

"Well yeah, she's never lied to me befor-"

"Wrong!"

Stunned by Cameron's outburst, John could only look at the beautiful cyborg with shock. "What?"

"I analyzed her behavior pattern. Elevated pulse, pupil dilation. She's lying."

"So you did what? Examine her in her sleep?"

"No. I concluded this the day she first came to this safehouse. I only concluded that same response when I confronted her in the bathroom. She was talking to someone on her phone. She says it's her mother but that is very unlikely as I have done extensive research on how teenagers act when they are arguing with their parents."

"Where did this research even come from?" John asked with a scoff.

"From the movie Derek was watching last Tuesday," Cameron answered.

"What movie?" John inquired.

"Mean Girls…"

"Wait what?" John shook his head with confusion. "How does that movie even explain…. You know what, never mind."

"Do you believe me, John?" Cameron asked with what John detected a hint of sadness.

"I mean yes… but then… I don't know," John shrugged in dismay. When he saw her eyes divert from him to the floor boards, he continued speaking. "How are you even so certain, anyway?"

"She hasn't told you anything about her life. Where she came from. You never met her parents. She's wary of me and Alex most of all. Doesn't that seem strange to you? I am designed to look like a small teenage girl. I am harmless in the view of those who don't know what I really am."

"So you think she knows that you and Alex are machines?" John asked with Cameron nodded to his answer.

"I don't know… yet."

"Don't hurt her, Cameron," John requested. "Either way, she doesn't deserve it."

"Then how am I supposed to acquire information?" Cameron asked with a head tilt.

John chuckled at the cute head tilt as he pondered. Suddenly an idea came to mind. "I have an idea."

"What?"

"Spend the day with Emily. Use your infiltration skills and try to befriend her."

"An effective strategy…." Cameron mused. "I like it."

"Good," John smiled with accomplishment. "Just take her out into town and let her have fun. Maybe then you'll be able to wean some information off her. Discreetly, of course."

With Cameron kissing John on the cheek, she sped down the hall. He chuckled at her awkward, stiff walk, and went back to his room to get ready for what today possibly held.

•••

She knew everyone upstairs was awake. Being a mother had that effect. John, being a teenage boy he was, came to be that typical lazy individual. One that she blamed herself for. Being locked up in the nuthouse for years at a time, leaving him vulnerable to the constant danger that always lurked in his shadow. It probably always will.

How could he have been so stupid? Bringing that machine into this house. That bucket of bolts was the reason for them being here, in this time, chasing fairy tales of Skynet's rebirth.

Under given, unfortunate circumstances it thought it was Derek's daughter. That piece of shit cyborg believed it was human. She scoffed at the idea. No one knew the reasoning behind this. Hell, even Tin Miss came up with an educated guess.

The only logical sense, being that each machine wearing a face, probably brought a story along with it. One of sorrow, and pain. That was the dumbed down version anyway, she didn't want to think about the lives of those faces once had. Not that she knew who the fuck Allison was, of course. John and the Tin Miss still owed her an explanation on that front.

Still dressed in her pajama bottoms, Sarah pondered on whether or not she should wait for Weaver to return. These two attorneys were the only concrete lead close to Skynet. Letting them escape wasn't a choice. Weaver was hunting Linda Fambrough, a lawyer for Cyberdyne. That left Grey Johnson, the lawyer for Cybersystems.

However, an address was never listed on any website, only the firm he worked for. Ironically it was listed as Grey and Andy: Attorney at Law. The office address gave them a loose lead. There had to be something there that indicated any clues as to where Skynet was.

No loose ends, Skynet doesn't escape.

Writing down the address from the computer, Sarah quietly got ready, trying not to wake up the rock she called an ally laying on her room floor.

Sporting a pair of comfortable, fit, cargo pants, and her favorite leather jacket, Sarah reached further in the closet and grabbed a duffle bag to compensate. She looked inside, seeing all the weapons still present. Hopefully they wouldn't be needed, but it was better to be prepared.

As the hardened woman made her way to the door, a floorboard creek was enough to waken the hybrid from her slumber. When she turned around to see if Alex was awakened, she was met with those grayish blue eyes boring down on her.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked with curiosity.

With a heavy sigh leaving her breath, Sarah put down her bag. "Look… I'm not sitting around, waiting for Weaver to come back having done our dirty work."

"So you're looking into Grey Johnson?" Alex inquired tiredly.

"Yeah…. Pretty much."

Nodding in acceptance, Alex got up off the floor and dusted herself off.

Why couldn't she just slept with a blanket and pillow?

Walking over to Sarah, Alex put her hand on the woman's shoulder, giving her a deep glare. Before smiling she let out a strange snorkel. "Well let me know how it goes."

Sarah just watched Alex stroll by, leaving her stunned.

"You're not coming?" Sarah inquired with disbelief.

"Didn't think you'd want me to anyway!" Alex exclaimed from inside the bathroom.

"Well I don't like bringing Tin Miss on missions with me!" Sarah explained.

"There's plenty of other willing hands around this house, you know! Alex quipped.

Walking over to the bathroom door, Sarah gave the hybrid a long, intimidating glare at the girl brushing her teeth.

"You know damn well you're the only one I trust on these types of missions."

"That's not what you said when we got into a shootout…" Alex reminded, not looking at Sarah in particular.

"Well you did save my ass so maybe I'm grateful," Sarah muttered with gritted teeth.

"You're going to have to speak up, Sarah. I may be a machine but my hearing is probably worse than yours."

"I said that maybe I'm grateful you stopped me from getting shot up!" Sarah sneered.

"Awe, you do have a heart! Can you say it one more time just so I can be certain of what you said?" Alex asked with curled lips. She realized that maybe she had gone too far when she held her arms open for the woman.

"Shut up and get ready!" Sarah gritted with annoyance.

Nodding in acceptance, she did what she was told. Someone really needs to take a chill pill.

•••

Back downstairs, the kitchen was bustling. With quiet chattering amongst some groups there was one menu item for today's breakfast, that being cereal and toast. With no sense of direction, it seemed almost as if a silent chaos was brewing.

Pondering on that thought, John continued to chow down on his cereal, still keeping an even gaze at the quite full house. With Cameron at his side, he could feel the piercing glare she gave Emily whom was sitting alone in the back. Having to nudge the cyborg, he spoke with a stern tone.

"Don't make yourself look more like a freak."

"You haven't called me a freak since you found out what I was."

"Well it still holds up, Cam," John pointed out. "If you want to be really sure she's hiding something, then go befriend her. Is that something you can pull off?"

With a slight grin creeping up the corners of her lips, John watched as Cameron strayed away from his side and made her way to go sit by Emily. Shaking his head at his Cyborg companion, John put away his empty bowl in the sink and helped himself to some more toast.

After a while, Sarah and Alex strolled downstairs and into the kitchen. Everyone couldn't help but stare at them, specifically.

"Good morning, Sarah!" Chloe shouted, trying to break the neverending silence.

"Good morning, Chloe," Sarah hesitantly smiled at the young machine. It was nice to have that familiar face around again, but it was also dangerous. The machine core that once housed that thing who was responsible for the deaths of countless people. It almost killed John.

"Where are you two headed?" Derek grumbled with a hint of sarcasm.

"Out…" Sarah told Derek, all while silently motioning at Emily behind her.

"Ah, I see," Derek acknowledged. "You need backup?"

"No, I have Tin Head with me," Sarah sternly looked at Alex. Also taking a glance at her son who took a seat next to Chloe in the living room. "I also need you to watch John. Make sure no one leaves the house."

"He's a big boy, Sarah. I'm pretty sure he doesn't need a babysitter," Derek pointed out. "Besides, he's got the metal looking out for him. Two of them."

"I don't care. He lied to us, Derek. Will you please just make sure your… daughter is... handled?" With a sour look, Derek went back to reading his newspaper, but hesitantly accepting.

With Sarah somewhat satisfied with that answer, she dragged Alex along with her out of the house.

"You could have at least let me get breakfast before you dragged me out of there." Alex said with a hit of sadness.

"We'll get something on the way," Sarah said absent minded. "We don't have time for all that chaos."

As soon as they entered the vehicle, Alex noticed how Sarah's expression seemed more blank after leaving the kitchen. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yes, Tin Head, just can't trust anyone else but myself nowadays."

"Okay, I've felt what you had a few weeks ago, but that is not what I meant, Sarah," Alex told the woman sternly.

"Every one of you seems to ignore the fact that we have the literal death machine, that has been hunting us for the better part of three months, sitting in our living room!"

"Trust me, Sarah, my first instinct was to kill that thing too," Alex agreed. "But if you really know anything about machines, one would not put on a charade like that for so long. Especially when she has been literally inches away from your son, its target, since way before we even knew they had her up and running."

"Get out."

With shock Alex looked at Sarah with disbelief in what she was saying. "What?"

"I said get out!" Sarah shouted at the top of her lungs. "None of you understand that we need to kill every machine, destroy every piece of evidence of what we are trying to prevent! If all you want to do is play house with all our new guests then have at it!"

"Sarah…"

"I'm going to try and stop a war. I don't need anyone holding me back."

Before she had even realized, Sarah had shifted the gear towards drive, and stomped on the gas. With the unsecured tin brain barely in the car, she spun the wheel, making a quick whirl around the driveway. Alex was immediately thrown out of the passenger seat, into the gravel beneath. All she could do was watch as Sarah had sped off, kicking up gravel in her face in humiliation.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Alex coughed angrily. This was great, she managed to royally piss Sarah off. A shower was definitely needed after having tiny rocks thrown into places where they shouldn't be.

Getting up from the ground, Alex saw no other choice but to run inside and alert the others.

"Sarah has gone apeshit!"

With no other response, Derek stood up. "What do you mean she has gone apeshit? Also, we have unwanted guests in the living room, so try keeping it low!" He then added subtly.

Making sure to keep a "low a tone", Alex said evenly, "Me and Sarah decided to take a look into Grey Johnson while Catherine looked into Linda Fambrough…"

"Okay… so?" Was all Derek inquired. "Sarah may not be a machine but she is still clever. Let her do this on her own. Its best to just let her fill her ego."

"What if she gets hurt?" Chloe inquired curiously while walking into the kitchen.

"She's right," Alex pointed out. Damn she can hear well. "I know me and Sarah aren't exactly bffs, but it is unsafe and stupid to go on missions alone. Especially when we don't even have the first clue as to who we are dealing with."

"Sarah is a big girl. I doubt she is in any real danger," Derek stubbornly stated.

Ring* Ring* Ring* Ring!*

Looking down at his buzzing cell, Derek reads "unknown caller." He picked it up with hesitation and put it up to his ear.

"Mr. Reese,"

"Speaking of missions, Catherine is calling?" he inquired in confusion. "Yes, Metal?"

"...I have acquired Linda Fambrough at James Ellison's residence."

"What was she doing over there?" He then asked.

"Targeting him for termination."

"She's a machine?" Derek exclaimed quietly.

"I'm at her apartment now. It appears Gray Johnson is a terminator as well."

*Click!*

"Where is Sarah!?" Derek spat out in exasperation.

With wide eyes, Alex shook her head, and led Derek out the back to the shed. With Chloe curiously following pursuit, she tailed the two, blending in seamlessly. Once inside, they all hopped into the very damaged vehicle.

"Damn, I sure hope we don't get pulled over in this piece of junk," Derek muttered in frustration, trying to figure out where the key went in the torn out key dashboard.

"What happened to this vehicle?" Chloe asked absentmindedly.

"We can talk about that later," Derek simply stated. Looking over at Alex, he began. "Do you know what we are expecting?"

"Are you just asking me to make conversation, or are you asking me for inference on what weapons we should take?" Alex quipped with a forced grin.

"Your sense of humor is really getting under my skin, especially when we are dealing with JOHN CONNER'S MOTHER BEING IN DANGER!"

After heavily deciding on whether or not a snarky response was appropriate, she ultimately made the right choice and began to start moving boxes to the side in order to make way for access to their secret cache.

"Shouldn't we tell John about his mother?" Chloe then spoke up.

Derek and Alex both looked up at the machine, then each other. "They can come with us on the next mission," Derek put mildly to his cyborg daughter.

There was no time for explaining. The engine ignited, and the trio hauled their asses out the driveway, same as Sarah had done not too long ago herself.

The scene caused great confusion to all the guests in the living room, Cameron, herself included. Peering out the blinds, she nudged John to come peek where her sights were set.

"What is going on?"

Only able to give him the same glare she always gave, he could only assume that she wasn't let in on the situation nor anything for that matter. His mother tended to leave Cameron out of most mission details, including possible targets after going rouge the first time.

"Well. We got the house to ourselves. Lets make the best of it?"

"We have three guests?" She stated with a confused head turn.

Fully realizing what she was referring to, he shook his head, whispering "No, I meant why don't I go into the basement and try to find a boardgame for all of us to play."

"I hide extra ammunition in Monopoly."

"Alright, puzzle it is!" John sarcastically cheered.

With John going downstairs, Cameron moved away from the window, taking caution of the three residents sitting on the sofa behind her. Emily, she was especially weary of. After that phone call this morning, she was curious to know who was on the other end of that line.

Once the coffee table was cleared, Cameron took a seat on the floor, opposite of the sofa.

"Turn off the television, love, you are already glued to that like poor tunnel rat under an Ogre Tank," Jesse chuckled as she snatched the remote from Marcus's grasp, completely tuning him out of the basketball game.

"You could have at least let me see that replay…" the man said with a grit in his teeth.

With Markus trying to take the remote from Jesse, Emily on the other hand, had her gaze wandering around the living room she had been studying for the past two hours, desperately trying to avoid the glare being stricken at her. She could feel those brown eyes digging in to her. No, she can't look at her. She just had to focus on something else, something that was not her. The tapestries wanted to make her eyes throw up after staring at it for so long. The pictures on the walls bore no resemblance to these people, their tastes nor heritage otherwise. Ultimately, her eyes fell onto the brunette teen, whom was glaring daggers into her soul.

She was right.

Fully surrendering, Emily stood up and announced, "I'm gonna go get some water!"

With the blonde rushing out of the room, Cameron made extra sure she didn't take a quick turn in John's direction. Speaking of John, he should have been up by now.

"Okay so I did not want to do a puzzle for the life of me so I found Sorry™ and the Game of Life™!"

"Do you have Monopoly?" Emily cheerfully asked from behind.

Only able to glance at Cameron, John shook his head. "Sorry, these are the only two we got."

Los Angeles, California, December 17, 2007: (Golden Gate Apartments)

Driving over the speed limit, Sarah dashed between cars, immediately pulling off the main road and onto the interstate. It was going to be quite the drive, but she knew that she could make it in there faster before the midday rush hour. She had to do this on her own. The family was broken, and she only had herself to blame. Why hadn't she taken John? Got him away from all of this. It was all a matter of time. A matter of time before….

No, Tin Miss can't just kill John.

She's done it before.

"That was different!"

You are lying to me. You are lying to yourself. You're lying to John

"SHUT UP!"

Sarah wailed loudly, bashing her fist against the steering wheel. The act had caused her to swerve left, towards an oncoming sedan but luckily, she was able to pull back onto the lane. However, not without the other bystander hurling into a guardrail nearby.

It was better this way. She would complete the mission here, take what she needed, get back to John and get the hell away. Get as far away from her as possible. Away from everyone.

With that thought, she slammed her foot on the gas, speeding towards the address written on the slip of paper in her fist.

•••

"WHAT THE HELL!"

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Matthews reached for his phone with his right hand, and the door handle to his crashed out squad car with the left.

A night being cooped up in the living room with the wife berating you would surely entice you to pour a shot or two. Clearly, he overdid it and the hangover didn't allow him to properly see the idiot who almost killed him.

Stepping out into the bright daylight that the state was known for, he looked down the left lane, getting a partial glance at the dark vehicle and more importantly, the license plate. Dispatch was definitely going to chew up his ass for totalling another vehicle. Someone was under the influence and he needed to find the son of a bitch and put his ass in bars.

This damn city needs to divide the lanes

"Dispatch, I have to report a hit and run on an officer on highway 710, do you read?"

"Copy that Matthews, do we need to schedule a medical emergency transport at this time?"

He had no time for this, all these shenanigans were distracting him. Understanding last night was all that drove him.

"No, but I'm gonna need a few officers and highway cleanup on scene asap. I need an all out search for a black Chevy Tahoe with plate 7G94R."

•••

Finding a parking spot was no easy task. Most parking was reserved for the residents of the apartment complex. Hopefully her guy wasn't home as well.

Pulling into a free space at the end of the lot, Sarah stepped out, rounding to the trunk. Being ready for a gunfight or carrying light was impossible to decide. There was no telling what she could run into. A lawyer shouldn't be that much of an issue, can it?

Deciding to go with her trusty sidearm, Sarah closed the trunk. With swift steps she made her way to the elevator, where she pressed the button and impatiently waited.

The ding sound alerted her, with the door sliding open, a single man stepping past her as she stepped in. She couldn't help but feel those eyes bore into her, however. So without another thought, she quickly pressed 5 on the panel next to her. With the door closing, she let out a deep breath.

"I really need sleep."

Before she knew it, the door flew open, allowing her to push forward once more.

Looking at the slip of paper Weaver gave to her, she memorized the apartment number: 361, beginning to list them off as she walked by.

"346…. 349…. 352…. 356…. 360…. 361!"

After making sure no one was looking in her direction, Sarah pulled out two hairpins and started going to work on the door. Once she heard the click, she knew she was inside. Quietly, she went, closing the door silently behind her.

Easy enough…

Her first impression of the apartment room was lavish. Filled from wall to wall with the goods only the wealthy could get their greasy little hands on. There was no denying that view of Los Angeles, though.

All thoughts aside, Sarah began to turn the place upside down, looking for any possible secret hiding places, and or documents. Gray's desk seemed like the perfect place to start.

Pulling the first drawer that she gazed at, it was no surprise to see how organized this man was. Lawyer or not, this man definitely didn't leave any clutter.

She kept scrolling through each folder, one after the next dealing with individual cases. Not one caught her eye. Until the words Project Maverick came up.

Project Maverick?

The curiosity getting the best of her, she opened up the document, reading the name "Sage Grove Sleep Institute."

This was the place that John was suggesting that I should attend in order to help my insomnia.

Brain scans and diagrams of the human body, with descriptions all written in some weird language. Some type of coding of symbols and numbers. None she could recognize nor possibly translate. The only thing she could make out in the clutter of this form of writing was the label I-950.

I-950?

Recalling the first conversation she had with Alex and Cameron about the terminator pursuing them at the time.

T-950…

Was there some resemblance? Maybe the I-950 is a predecessor in some way? The more she scanned for the answer, the more ludicrous it seemed. With what appeared to be polaroids of test subjects plastered on the pages, the incomprehensible language evaded her curiosity the evermore.

However, the picture gained that spark once again. The woman test subject looked very familiar, that of Kerán. Somewhat younger, however?

Wait, what? She is not only working with Skynet, she is also a machine?

Flipping to the next page, Sarah found multiple other subjects, none she had recognized before, although making sure to take mental note for future knowledge. She then stopped. Almost wanting to drop the page, she only looked on in horror at the final, and latest subject.

With a flash of anger, Sarah folded the document up, tucking it next to her gun.

"It's not nice to snoop around."

At that very instant, a hand on her shoulder was the last thing she felt before finding herself being hurled like a baseball through the living room coffee table.

Dazed and confused, she looked downward, admist the glass cluttered carpet, seeing that document and her sidearm lying a few feet away. Desperately she attempted to crawl her way over to the gun, reaching out for it with dear life.

"Oh, come on, you're no fun!" The man chuckled as he gave Sarah a stern kick to the ribs, causing her to fly over the kitchen island. The impact gave her a broken nose, lessening her already sore vision of the attacker.

"Get up!"

Another throw sent Sarah flying out of the kitchen and back into the adjoined living room carpet.

"I said get up!"

With a single bird given as a response, Sarah got onto her knees, reaching for a shard of glass, and thrusting herself towards the assailant.

Thinking on her toes, Sarah predicted enough to try and catch the attacker off guard. However, her wrist was caught and a snap was the last thing she heard before dropping to the floor in agony.

"Sarah Connor, you are not the woman they said you were," the man gritted. "I honestly thought I saw more fire in your eyes in the elevator."

One more kick to the ribs, along with some bones cracking, was enough for Sarah to wail out in even more pain.

Her vision was still cloudy, and she lost feeling in her wrist, but she knew who this man was. She passed him on the elevator.

"But I guess I was wrong."

"Who are you!?" Sarah spat.

"I don't know, who am I, Sarah?" The man laughed maniacally. "You broke into my house."

Her watery eyes widened, Sarah now only realized who he was. Gray Johnson.

"You are a… a machine?" Sarah inquired with a groan.

Completely ignoring Sarah's question, Gray grabbed her feet, dragging her towards him, where he wrapped his hand around her neck. "You're digging a grave for yourself, your son, and your team. You just don't see it yet."

"If you think you're getting my son then you might as well kill me right now!" Sarah sneered with a good spit to the man's face. An act he didn't seem to take too kindly.

Standing up, with his grip still tightly around the woman's neck, he enjoyed watching Sarah struggle for air by trying to pry herself from his grasp. "I don't want your son. I want you dead because you decided to put your nose in shit that doesn't involve you."

With another toss, Sarah went tumbling towards a wall where the impending impact would render her unconscious.

•••

"Hurry."

"If you think you can get us there faster then be my guest!" Derek snarled in impatience.

The robot duo of girls in this truck was beginning to make him regret taking them along. Chloe's constant questionnaires of every commercial zone, every residential zone, every park they passed. It all reminded him of… Chloe…

How curious that girl was. She was interested in this world, how it used to be. At least hearing that voice again brought him some comfort. Even if she was metal.

Still, it made his skin crawl nonetheless.

"There it is!" Chloe pointed at the sign reading "Golden Gate Apartments"

With no further words needing to be exchanged, the trio pulled into the parking garage. However, a hail of cops swarming every inch of the space was enough to make Derek immediately pull the truck in reverse.

"Okay we are not going that way!" He sweated.

"What's going on?" Alex asked. "Why are the cops here?"

"I have no idea. I can't exactly check either. The entire country still wants my head for Andy."

"Maybe you shouldn't have killed him," Alex sarcastically chirped.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Derek growled. "I don't see your lazy ass getting out to go give it a look!"

"My lazy ass is also wanted because of Cameron's dumbass so I guess we are both screwed!"

"What about me?" Chloe then spoke up.

"You're also wanted for multiple accounts of murder," Derek began to explain to his machine daughter. He knew it wasn't his daughter, but it was instead the machine that habited the body before her.

"I what?" Chloe inquired with worry.

"It's a long story, Chloe. Let's just get inside and find Sarah," Alex then assured.

Taking the lead, Derek and Chloe both followed, entering from the front of the apartment, rather than the parking garage.

"We need to move fast, it is only a matter of time before the five-o recognize us."

"Both of you watch too much television," Chloe nonchalantly added.

Taking the elevator to the fifth floor, the three quickly rushed down the hall, marking off each room as they passed.

Once they came by room 361, Alex didn't bother with a knock, and instead used her right foot to bring the door off its hinges.

Derek, quickly sporting his M-9, swept the room, searching for Sarah, but also making sure they weren't walking into a hailfire of bullets. After making sure the coast was clear, the future soldier signaled for the other two to safely enter.

Next time the metal is doing this.

"Sarah really did overturn this place," Alex mused, admiring the pigsty left.

Chloe, not being needed to be told, started with the bedroom and bathroom which prompted Derek to search the living room, and Alex, the kitchen. There was no sign of Sarah anywhere. Only broken glass, wood and….

"Alex!" Derek called from the living room.

With the hybrid immediately joining the soldier in the room, she knelt down next to him, looking at what he found. A pool of blood.

"I really hope that is not Sarah's," Alex mentioned with worry. "She's not here. It's either she left or she's dead."

"Let's hope for John's sake that it's the latter." Derek grumbled. None of this made sense. The scene, everything. Were they too late? Where was the body, or bodies? If it was Gray Johnson, then she was possibly kidnapped… again.

*Click*

"Put your hands up real nice and slow."

That foreign voice, broke both Derek and Alex from their spell, who abided by their wish and slowly stood up with their hands in the air.

"You're making a big mistake, brother," Derek chuckled with a grit in his teeth.

Ignoring Derek's suggestion, he continued. "Turn around…. real slowly."

Heeding his word once again, Both Alex and Derek turned around, already having figured out how to get out of this situation.

"Alright, tough guy, you built your casket."

Alex's hands lowered, however, as instead her jaw dropped slightly, trying to utter the words to speak. This man, this officer was in his mid thirties, but had a head of blonde hair that matched the patches of beard he hadn't shaved in weeks. The casual suit indicated that he clearly wasn't an ordinary police officer.

"You look like…"

"Put your hands up right now, Miss!" The man commanded with a hint of venom. Obliged, she rose her hands once more. Both of them knew that he wasn't playing games.

"I'm detective Matthew's, with the L.A. Police Department, and the both of you are under arrest for trespassing and possible vehicle manslaughter on a police officer."

"We didn't try to kill any officer, sir!" Derek tried to explain.

"Tell that to your lawyer," he put simply. Grabbing the phone from his pocket, Matthews began to radio the ground team in the parking lot, informing them to bring extra handcuffs.

However, once the man was finished making a call, Alex and Derek witnessed a large television floating above the officer's head. Before they knew it, one swipe and the officer was on the ground unconscious. To Derek's delight, Chloe was holding the flat screen which was three times bigger than herself. Alex, on the other hand, ran over to the officer and placed her fingers on the left side of his neck.

She sighed heavily as there was still a pulse.

"You could have killed him, Chloe!" She shouted at the cyborg girl. "Think next time before you act!"

Chloe, dropping the television, gave her a glare before joining at her father's side. "A you're welcome would have been nice!"

"We also don't need another reason for the entire country to be on our asses again!" Alex exclaimed.

"Are you two done? We need to get out of here, now! There are many more guys in blue on their way up as we speak."

Adheeding Derek's suggestion, Alex left the officer's side and the three bolted out of the room before any more law enforcement officers showed up. Taking the stairs back down to the truck was a safe bet. It proved to be true, when they found an unlocked back door to sneak away from.

Back to the truck they went, putting as much distance from themselves and the cops as possible.

"Alex, are you okay?" Chloe asked ahead.

She noticed the tone the blonde gave her. It wasn't at all akin to the murderous cyborg that she had fought time and time again. It… she spoke to her as if everything was normal. That made everything feel even more off.

Oh how things could spiral out of control so quickly in just a few weeks. Everything was out of her control.

"Yeah," Alex smiled forcibly. "That guy just looked like someone I knew… that's all."

Her gaze couldn't help but look up at the apartment building as it left their view. Their journey back home. They were coming back without Sarah.