Late February 2020 update. It feels good to work on these old chapter finally. I've wanted to improve the story so much but I've never had the chance, nor the inspiration to do so. But now with Terminator: Resistance being so much fun, "Prototype" doing model work of the Terminatrix's endoskeleton, and a friend artist of mine doing an update of my beloved T-850 endoskeleton design. I'm feeling pumped to continue!
Early August 2020 update. - Things didn't work out. Things have been delayed and COVID-19 but a real dampener on everything.
Terminator
Bond of Steel and Bone
Chapter 5
Robert Kent. The Rampage Begins.
Sarah sat in the shed in the backyard, her Remington 870 shotgun laying on the table beside her; the stock folded over the top of the weapon, in her hands were longer three-inch shotgun shells, and several empty two/three-quarter inch shells, components of the shells scattered before her neatly; a pile of gunpowder, wadding and dozens of balls of shot and to her right were five completed three-inch magnum shells.
Sarah thought back to previous encounters with the Triple-Eight Terminators. Blasts from her usual loading of 12-gauge had little effect against the newer and tougher machines. She recalled how her own protector and later lover; Kyle Reese, had blown the T-800 off of it's feet after several blasts from his shotgun back in 1983, though undamaged it had given them ample time to escape the killer cyborg. So she'd need to upgrade their munitions against the newer cyborgs to have the same effect.
Sarah carefully poured powder into three-inch shell, more than usual, then took a piece of wadding and crammed it in, keeping the powder from moving, next she bipassed the pile of shot and took hold of a metal slug.
'At least Cromartie's no longer a problem,' Sarah thought to herself, as the pushed the slug into the shell. She remembered how the machine had stalked her and her son for so long, how it had captured her, locked her in it's car and took her to Mexico after John and Riley.
'Riley' Sarah thought to herself, the blonde girl now appearing in her mind, Riley could be a nice kid, sure, why not? But she was a troublemaker, she had nearly got John killed in Mexico, she kept pulling John away from his home and from his family … and Cameron she guessed, pulled him away from those who can protect him. Cameron was right, Riley was a threat to John's safety, but damn it she couldn't do anything about it. John protected that girl like she was, well, she is his girlfriend, as far as Sarah knew.
But then, John's behaviour had been strange since he got up this morning, he'd been acting strange, he'd been acting unlike himself. She still wasn't sure if she liked it or not despite having a few hours to think it over, he'd surprised her earlier when he said he'd wanted to talk to her, whatever it was sounded serious, maybe something had happened, but if it did, surely he'd tell her immediately, right? Then again she wasn't so sure anymore. But she knew something was going on, especially seeing Cameron looking like she'd been plowed through a brick wall, the machine was hiding something and John was hiding something with it, and before she could get answers John and the machine went out together to do ... something.
Sarah placed the completed slug next to the others then leaned back in her chair, it was getting hot in the shed. Placing her hands over her eyes she rubbed the tiredness out of them then brushed the sweat off her brow using the back of her arm. She didn't know if John or Cameron had yet returned from whatever it was they were doing.
Something was different between them, a few days ago John wouldn't have asked her to get Cameron for him, a few days ago he wouldn't have wanted to be around the machine. Maybe Derek was right and the cyborg was manipulating John. Sarah groaned loudly, she reached across the table grabbing a bottle filled with water, she unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, the water wasn't cold anymore but it sufficed and it cooled her. She couldn't start thinking like Derek. Derek was a tough guy, a seasoned veteran of war and his help had been acceptable, but his experiences had clouded his judgement. No, she didn't like Cameron much either, but the machine was a useful tool against other Terminators and Skynet.
Suddenly she heard footsteps coming from the house, she turned seeing John come into view.
"Hey mom we're back." The seventeen year old gave her a small tired smile.
"Obviously. What've you two been doing?" she asked keeping any accustation out of her voice.
"Just sorting out some thing," John used a finger and thumb to rub his eyes before focusing back on her, "I promised you we'd talk and we will, I just need a few minutes, that okay with you?"
Sarah contemplated her answer and how to respond, "Alright, but I also want to know why Cameron looked a mess earlier, got it?" Sshe demanded lightly.
John simply nodded in response, "Yeah sure mom, no problem. We'll talk later." He gave her a short wave before walking off.
"Sure, I'll finish in here!" Sarah called after him. Without turning John stuck his left hand out to the side and gave her a thumbs up.
Sarah took another swig of water before replacing the lid then continued on with her work.
Derek Reese was sat on a bench in a small grassy park, staring at the beauty of nature, a small sandwich in his hand. The weather is gorgeous, sunny and warm, Derek almost dared himself to feel safe, to feel at peace in the world around him. People were walking around in short sleeved shirts and shorts, sunglasses covering their eyes and wearing smiles on their faces. It was infectious but also terribly bittersweet, he smiled a tired, sad smile, knowing all this beauty would come to an end in just a few short years, and all that would remain would be a lifeless dark husk of it's former self, all because of the Machines.
Derek's eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw, Cameron coming to mind as he pictured the machines; their glowing red eyes, the skeletal grin of their death mask, almost like they were laughing at what they had taken from humanity, almost sniggering at how far the human race had fallen because of their own hubris. DHe'd put an end to them one way or another, even if he had to die to do it, and it'd be him who'd have the last laugh NOT the Machines.
His dark thoughts were interrupted as Jesse sat down next to him an ice cream in hand.
"So," he began looking at Jesse from the corner of his eye as she sat down, "what's this great plan of yours?" He asked.
"To get John to hate the Machine? To want it deactivated and destroyed?" She teased.
"No the plan to get us all into showbiz and live in Beverly Hills. What do you think?" He retorted sarcasm oozing from his voice, Jesse just chuckled.
"No need to be like that mate," her chuckle subsided, "I've got my plan, don't worry."
"But I am worried, what if John gets hurt?" Derek voice filled with concern, he cared for the boy, he wanted him safe.
"John will be fine, trust me." Jesse replied casually, but she noticed Derek didn't look satisfied. "Look Derek I got a partner working on getting the Machine away from Connor, I can't tell you anymore about them, but just know that things are starting to go our way." She smirked, Derek looked confused.
"Really? Because I haven't noticed anyone doing anything." He said before looking back at the grass.
Jesse didn't want to reveal Riley as her partner in her plan.
"Just listen" Derek continued. "I don't think your guy is doing anything, let me help, I want to keep the metal away from him just as much as you do." Derek pleaded. He hated the Machines, that one especially.
Jesse thought for a minute, she had to consider the pros and the cons of letting Derek in on her plan. On the plus he could be really helpful in getting the machine away from John while Riley did her thing, on the other hand he could act out against her.
"Oh alright," Jesse conceded, the pros outweighed the cons, "but if I let you in on the plan it stays between us, got it?" She said, staring him down sternly.
"Hey you don't have to worry about that. I know when to keep my mouth shut." Derek replied.
"And you do not contact my partner unless necessary, okay?" She said her tone not faltering, Derek nodded. "I'm sure you know Riley."
To say Derek was shocked would be an understatement.
"R-Riley?" he gasped. "The kid is your…," suddenly it all made sense, "well, that explains a few things at least." He muttered then looked at Jesse who smirked at him confidently.
"I need you to get the machine away from John, and let Riley do her thing." She smirked remembering the call from 'Riley' earlier in the day. Derek nodded.
"Alright. You and Riley get your end right, I'll find a way to get the machine out of the way." Derek told her before taking a bite out of his sandwich.
Derek had a thought, he turned his head towards Jesse before swallowing what he'd eaten.
"What if John finds out?" he asked.
"From who?" She asked with a smirk. "He doesn't know me, you're not going to tell him because you want the metal gone and Riley isn't going to tell him because she's got fantasies of being, Mrs Riley Connor." She chuckled. Derek had to admit, it was sneaky, but it was a plan, and not a bad one.
"Alright, as I said, I'm with you." Derek replied before focusing back on the world before him, yet something in his gut didn't feel right.
The apartment door flung open slamming in to a door stop with bang and bounced off nearly swinging closed once more were it not for the tall woman barging through the door way, an exasperated look on her bruised and bloodied face, cuts across her cheeks revealing glimpses of chromed metal, in her left hand was a bag containing a bucket of fried chicken. The cyborg closed the door behind her with her foot, then using right hand locked the door behind her, with human like frustration the machine stomped furously to her couch and all but fell back into it. She placed the bag on the coffee table infront of her, reached in to it for a piece of chicken and immediately started tearing into it with her teeth.
After a few bites the woman's she replayed her battle with the unknown cyborg, though there was a similarity to it, she couldn't fathom where, she herself was a powerful machine, she knew as much, and yet she had been bested by a smaller but seemingly more agile machine.
SEARCHING FILES ...
... ERROR ... MEMORY FILES FRAGMENTED ... ERROR MEMORY FILES DAMAGED ...
... CPU INTACT ...
... SYSTEM DEFRAGMENTATION REQUIRED ...
The machine closed her eyes and left out a very human groan followed by a shake of the head, memory files from long ago were damaged, she could remember things but not all of it was clear leaving her with only recent memories to recollect from with any clarity. Nevertheless, she'd been bested by a smaller unknown cyborg. She'd gotten too used to terminating humans and hadn't battled another machine in some time, true she'd gone into it unprepared, then again, so did the smaller cyborg, yet it had won.
'I'm losing my touch' The thought crossed the machine's mind. She wasn't like most machines, she knew, she'd been online for a long time, a very long time, gained much experience of combat and of human interaction to the point she easily slipped into human society unlike a lot of other Infiltrators, better than the T-800s better than the T-888 series, debatably better than the T-1000 series, she could be human and continue to be human for a long period of time.
But back at Tech Noir, that club the previous night, she had tasted his blood, her target was here; John Connor. To say she was excited was an understatement. General John Connor was here, somewhere in this god forsaken city. Obviously she knew he'd be here somewhere but to have been in the same building as he not a few hours after he had been, with proof of him being there, it was tantilizing, he was so close and yet so far, but she was getting closer.
She took another bite of chicken, chewed it thoughtfully then swallowed. Her nutrition intake was higher than most machines which meant she could eat more, which meant her skin would regenerate faster than most, like later series infiltrators similar to the T-888, but much more advanced, her eye would regenerate before long, two days maybe depending on her excess of consumption.
Eating wasn't solely designed to aid in regenerating her organic components like it was for the T-888 infiltrators. Inside her endoskeleton was what could be described as a converter, a mechanical "stomach" in layman's terms, a small piece of advanced techology designed for later model infiltrators. The food she ate was broken down by the converter and and excess energy not being used in her infiltration sheath was being pumped into her power cells, expanding their usage and her life, making her in effect eternal. As long as she was able to keep her endoskeleton and CPU intact that is, it helped that said endoskelton was an enhanced infiltration unit.
The cyborg sat back in silence eating her chicken, fries and sipping her soda. She looked at what she had left on her table earlier that morning. Her laptop that she'd been using to analyse the hard drives given to her by Peter Smithers, before he tried to double cross her. Currently displayed on screen were coordinates to a location several hours out from Los Angeles, including a list of employees, the rest of what she'd found wasn't of much use, one name struck her in particular; Robert Kent. He was the lead designer of something top secret, something military grade, out in a facility a day or so travel north of Los Angeles. She didn't know where Peter or those he worked for had gathered this information, but this was the kind of stuff she needed, sadly the files didn't go much over the building's lay out, no information of security either, it didn't matter in the end however. She needed to find this facility but more specifically she need to find Robert Kent.
With that thought, she thought it best to check her weaponry. She had a mission tonight and she could not deter from it.
She rose up dumping a third chicken leg she'd eaten into the bag inside of the KFC bucket and walked into her bedroom. She stepped out a few moments later carrying two large cases about six feet long with ease as if carry a small briefcase, she placed them down flat on their back next to the coffee table before moving her chicken and placing one of the large cases on the table before reaching for the clamps, unlocking it and lifted the lid.
The cases had many pouches and straps, each holding a weapon, be it a sidearm or a long barrelled rifle in place, some pouches held ammunition. She reached in unstrapping one of her preferred sidearms. Slowly she lifted it out carefully as if it were a small child. Six-inch steel barrel connected to a large "N" classified frame which held a thick six-shot cylinder chambering the powerful .44 Remington magnum round. She loved the feel of the wooden grip against the palm of her hand as she held it delicately. The Smith & Wesson 29 was a cultural icon across the world, made famous by Clint Eastwood in the 70s with the movie "Dirty Harry", regardless of it's fame it was a damn fine sidearm and perfect for someone like her, powerful, accurate, beautiful.
She raised the revolver up to eyes level and aimed down its sights, she thumbed back the hammer, hearing the metallic click as the hammer cocked, then carefully dropped the hammer back down with her thumb. Satisfied she slid the weapon into it's holster then gently removed it from the case along with pouches off ammunition, various speedloader and put them aside.
She scanned the various other sidearms in the case, looking for something suitable, she had power and accuracy, she needed something semi-automatic and high-capacity.
Her eyes landed on the weapon of choice. She reached into the case removed a single strap then drew out the pistol, a Czechoslovakian CZ 85b, the 16 round 9mm was a venerable pistol with ambidextrous release and safety, she removed the associated holster and spare magazines, slid the pistol into the holster before putting it next to her Model 29.
'Long guns, long guns, what should I use' She was a picky with her tools, she could take the same amount of time picking what to use as other women pick what to wear. She chuckled at that thought, she never understood why it took women so long to decide, but if it was like this, they were just spoilt for choice.
Her eyes scanned the various long guns in the first case before closing it up, she didn't feel like using any of them, there had been a classic Winchester 1897 shotgun, but something a little more modern was needed for this particular outing. She closed the first case and moved it to the ground before replacing it with the second and opened it.
Her eyes scanned over the contents before focusing on one in particular. She reached in and unclasped the weapons two straps, grabbed it by it's pistol grip and pulled it free; an Ithaca M37 stakeout. The 12-gauge shotgun had a short barrel, no buttstock and a rubber pistol grip, she grabbed the slide and cocked the weapon. She placed the weapons down and looked back into the case where she found two more weapons she'd need, a pair of fully automatic MP5A3s.
The packed the cases away and moved them back into her room, before grabbing her large rucksack of various munitions and a long raincoat over her shoulder.
She was a machine, a Terminator, killing was in her design, it was more or less her job. But no one would ever tell her she couldn't do it with style.
A chocolate cake sat on his desk partially eaten, a long kitchen knife lay beside it, the blade smeared in chocolate.
John let out a satisfied sigh. Today was finally starting to shape up.
There he lay on his bed, stomach full of chocolate cake, a very nice cake at that, lying next to him was his Cameron. She hadn't eaten much of the cake, but enough to have some chocolate on her lips. Despite all that had happened in the last two days, well one and a half days if he was being precise, he felt strangely good. How did letting go of that anger, that resentment all that angst fill him with clarity? Actually he didn't need to answer that, he already knew, fighting so hard for something he thought he wanted, a life he could never have, blinding him to what he already knew.
'You can be a real idiot Connor.' He thought with distaste. At least the cut on his hand he got from the Tech Noir didn't bother him.
"What are you thinking about John?" Cameron asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Just how much of an idiot I've been." He replied evenly as examined the cut across his palm. He noticed Cameron didn't answer. He turned to look at her, "you can tell me I was stupid, I won't get mad. Promise."
"I understand why you did it. Being John Connor can be lonely." She replied, her eyes locking onto his. She'd said those exact words before, the night he left for Mexico with Riley. "But you have been neglecting your own safety, it makes protecting you more difficult," John broke eye contact as he slowly nodded his head, a little smile still on his face. "I'm sorry."
John immediately focused back on her, staring straight into her eyes. "You have no reason to apologise, not for telling me the truth," he realised he was putting more than just himself in danger. If he died then humanity lost, "I've been a real dumbass, I'm gonna try and change that."
Cameron nodded her head once in reply but otherwise said nothing.
Abruptly something dawned on John, he hadn't had chance to think about the specifics of what happened that night at the Tech-Noir after the whole Riley revelation. But now something had just occured to him, something worrying. "Cameron, the Triple-Eight knew me by sight." Cameron's eyes focused on him in what he would describe as mild alarm, likely her CPU running through the events that took place. John continued; "You said machines wouldn't recognise me in this time, and you were right but that one Terminator knew what I looked like." He hid his fear well, at least he thought he did.
"You are correct, it walked right up to you. Your identity could be compromised," she replied her eyes never leaving his, "we need to inform Sarah and Derek as soon as possible."
"You're right and we still need to tell them about that Terminator at Hamburg's," John's gaze drifted below her eyes but became unseeing as he mentally prepared himself for what he had to do, "no time like the present I guess." He muttered before focusing on Cameron. "Come on."
Finger tapped away at keys on a keyboard rapidly, eyes strained as they stared at the same screen for hours on end. Suddenly the rapid typing came to an end and his pinky finger pressed down on the "enter" key. A progress bar appeared on his screen and started to fill, he waited; 10%, 24%, 32%, 40%. The progress bar seemed to freeze on 54% before disappearing altogether and replaced with an error sign.
The man turned away from his computer, closing his eyes giving them some much needed rest and covered his face over with his hand. Progress had been made, but it wasn't enough.
"Any progress Kent?" came a voice bringing him from his thoughts.
Robert Kent, a young dark skinned man, pulled his hand away and looked up to the man before him; Douglas Miller. Douglas was white, taller, older, a look in his eye that made Robert uneasy. Douglas was his boss, if that even was the right word.
"Uh yeah, slowly." Robert replied, he swore he saw Douglas' eye twitch. "Progressed to fifty-six percent before causing an error, that's five percent more than last week. We're onto a winner here."
Douglas stared at the young man for a few more seconds than was needed, in truth Douglas liked seeing his subordinates sweat. Douglas blinked, before giving Robert a small, tight smile. "Progress is progress I suppose." Suddenly a small alarm started beeping from Douglas' arm, he looked to his watch before smiling genuinely. "Break time." Without another word Douglas turned and left.
Robert Kent looked around his area of work, he was in cubicle with over a dozen more people inhabiting the same room as he. Everyone one of them was smart, very smart, which was why they were here, working on what they were.
"Yeah lunch, I could go for lunch." Robert muttered to himself. He got up from his chair, groaning as he did so, then made his way towards the building's cafeteria like so many others.
Robert thought back to the day they'd employed him. Taken him to be more precise. He was just leaving college when they'd approached him offering him a job right off the bat and he foolishly, with dreams in his head and a legacy to live up to, fell for it. He joined them and he started working with his fellows on this project.
Upon entering, Robert grabbed his usual from the cafeteria; a cheeseburger, a salad and a cup of coffee, he sat down at a table with his branch's designation. No one could sit elsewhere incase of spreading confidential information, each branch in the dark about what others were working on. Robert ate his food in silence.
It wasn't until later he realised what was really going on that he tried to quit, tried to break away but he couldn't, they wouldn't let him. They knew where his family lived, but they couldn't touch his famly because they knew he wouldn't work. He felt like such a fool, but more so he felt angry. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to punch Douglas in his smug face, except he was always watching. No one knew his name, the guy didn't wear a badge, but he was part of security, so everyone just whispered "Samson" when referring to him. It kind of fit, the guy looked a little over six-feet tall and had a strong athletic build to him and short hair with a military style to it. Samson didn't speak much, only when he needed to, but the guy was intimidating not in the same way as Douglas, but in his own; "I'm gunna break your neck", kind of way.
Robert finished his measly meal and his coffee, dumped his waste in the trash then proceeded to the bathroom.
Even with Samson around and the numerous security cameras. Robert wanted to fight back, he wanted to escape, he'd overheard a few others did too when they thought no one else was listening. His own escape plan was already in its initial stages. He'd been planning it for over a month now.
After exitting the bathroom he made his way back to his cubicle, he sat down at his chair but paused, he closed his eyes and took a deep long breath, he held it there for a few seconds.
'Alright, time to get the ball rolling.' He thought to himself, he couldn't stay here any longer, he had to get away.
He released his breath and turned to his computer, quietly, he reached under his desk and found his flash drive, he carefully removed it from the chewgum he'd used to keep it there, as gross as it was, he opened out the drive and inserted it into the computer discreetly.
Everyone was always being monitored, some more than others, he and a few the most. But eyes couldn't catch everything. He'd been able to subtle hack into the mainframe, nothing too extreme as so cause attention, but enough to get a message out of the building, and the flash drive was his key, as he worked on the project, he brought up the flash drives program and typed in a cellphone number. It took a few seconds, which he used to work on the project, more so for the act of working, he got his message.
'06-80-31' came the message, his father's birthday backwards.
Robert knew he had but seconds to type back. '68-30-41' The day his parents met, also backwards, that was the passcodes for this day, different codes used every other week. He was smart, but so was his contact, she'd quickly caught on to their pattern.
Robert quickly switched back to his work and waited.
Another message. 'u ok?'
'No' Robert avoided looking around as no not arouse suspicion. 'Start now.'
'Her number ...'
A cellphone number appeared on the screen, he committed it to memory, he like his father had an excellent one. He owed a lot to his father, and he couldn't help but feel how much he'd let him down.
'I'll tell her ... Lv u.'
Robert removed the flash drive, fighting back the tears that dared to spill and continued to work on his project like a good little slave.
Downstairs John and Cameron found Sarah Connor sat on the recliner chair, staring at the opposite wall.
"Everything okay mom?" John suddenly asked, noticing the look in her eye. She seemed to be staring into space, her mind likely going a thousand miles an hour thinking on.
"Yeah I'm fine." Sarah replied automatically, her thought still elsewhere.
"We need to talk mom." John announced
Talk? Right, right. John had wanted to talk to her, and she wanted to know about Cameron's roughed up appearence, she put the recently gained information aside for a moment and focused on John and Cameron, why were they standing so close together?
"Alright, lets talk." Sarah replied, straight to buisness.
John sat down on the couch opposite Sarah with Cameron sitting down beside him.
"So, what do you want to tell me?" she asked, keeping her voice level and gaze focused on John.
"There was a cyborg as Hamburgs." Cameron suddenly spoke up.
"What?" Sarah asked with alarm, her eyes now focusing on the cyborg.
"When you had me look for Michael Hamburg, I was confronted with a larger framed female based Terminator. It wasn't a Triple-Eight, I don't know the model." Cameron continued.
Dread built up in Sarah's stomach, "I want details."
REPLAY FILE 269-1 ... ANALYSE ... ANALYSIS COMPLETE ...
UNKNOWN HOSTILE CYBORG ...
ANALYSING UNKNOWN ENDOSKELETON ... ANALYSIS COMPLETE ...
- UNKNOWN LARGE FRAME FEMALE 8XX SERIES ...
- ENHANCED COMBAT CAPABILITIES ...
- UPGRADED ARMOR PLATED CHASSIS ...
- UNKNOWN INFILTRATION MODEL ...
THREAT ANALYSIS VERIFIED ...
THREAT LEVEL: ... HIGH
ACTION: EVADE IF POSSIBLE ...
"The machine was taller and possessed a heavier frame than me. Various design changes compared to previous known models including armor plating over sensitive areas, its strength and speed were also greater than mine. Also before engaging it in combat it seemed to possess an advanced infiltration program," she paused taking a moment to look at John beside her, "similar to how I was with you when we first met in 1999." Cameron turned her focus back to Sarah.
"And what happened to the machine?" Sarah dared to ask, already not liking what she was hearing.
"Our fight ended outside the building and it was able to escape into a crowd. I calculated the best course of action would be to return here and report my findings than risk another encounter with the machine." Cameron informed her, Sarah was thinking for a moment, remembering the small framed machine Cameron had twisted into a pretzel and brought it home.
Sarah leaned her head back against the door frame and groaned.
"Okay." Sarah slowly nodded her head, her eyes were closed. "Do we have any more of those uranium shells?" Sarah asked looking towards Cameron.
"I have a seven depleted-uranium shells left," Cameron replied in monotone.
"Can you get more, make more?" Sarah asked. Cameron thought it over for a minute.
"It could take a while to resupply on depleted uranium, we may have to resort to other means." Cameron replied while analysing various possible ideas.
"Alright, you let me know if you have something." Sarah moved to stand up only for John to stop her.
"Actually, there's another thing," John started, Sarah looked at him seeing the worry on his face, she slowly sat back down and knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say, "I lied to you, about the other night. Cameron didn't take me to see the city, I was with Riley." John noticed his mother's eyes harden and her hands subtly clenching the arms of the chair. He knew he might as well get it over with. "Riley took me to a club, while there we ... a Trip-Eight attacked us," John saw his mother's eyes widen from the news, "mom ... it knew me by sight."
Sarah felt the blood drain from her face, on the off chance it could've been a fluke, but she never trusted flukes, somehow the machine had learned what John looked like and if it knew, others might too.
"You're in trouble," Sarah told him, "I told you before about seeing that girl." Sarah shook her head slowly, she was surprised that John didn't immediately retaliate verbally, but what did surprise her was what he said next.
"You're right," John grinned as his mother looked at him with wide eyes, "I've been careless lately, putting myself in danger making your and Cameron's job harder and I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. That was actually something else I wanted to talk about, just you and me privately but we can do that later, if that's okay with you?" he asked.
"Uh, um yeah ... sure," Sarah replied lamely, this was too much to take in all at once, "I just need a minute to think."
John stood up followed quickly by Cameron, "Hey no problem, we'll be upstairs if you need us."
Sarah took note of the "we" and "us" but ignored it, she had too much to think about right now.
"Okay, I'll see you two later."
John and Cameron walked off leaving Sarah to her thoughts.
Once upstairs, behind the barrier that is his bedroom door did John finally sigh deeply with relief. "Well, glad that parts over."
"I was expecting Sarah's reaction to be more severe." Cameron noted, standing a few feet in front of him.
"Yeah me too actually," John replied, a thoughtful look on his face, "something else is on her mind, I could tell."
"What do you think it is?" Cameron asked.
"Don't know," John spoke slowly, trying to figure it out for himself, "I don't really know."
Without another word John stepped away from the door, pulled the chair out from his desk then sat down. "Either way, seems you've got your work cut out for you right now." He said with some amusement in his tone.
"How do you mean?" Cameron asked as she sat down on his bed opposite him.
"First we're dealing with Trip-Eights, now we've got this new cyborg to deal with. You said you'd think of a way for us to deal with them, do you have any ideas right now?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Cameron was silent for a moment, composing the data her CPU had gathered on the weaknesses and limitations to Skynet's preferred infiltration units and crossreferenced that with the Connor's available munitions.
"Explosives and armor-piercing munitions would be effective, but home-made explosive devices can prematurely detonate without care and other than the few urnaium shells I have left we have no armor piercing ammunition." Cameron replied stoically.
While deep in thought, with his elbow braced against the arm of the chair, John rest his chin in one hand, the index and middle finger above and below his lips respectively, "You need like a hard metal for something like that," John thought out loud, "we don't have any hard metals." Or did they?
"I have the spare parts from the Triple-Eight." Cameron announced as she and John quickly came to the same conclusion.
"But are you alright using them for this, it's a little risky isn't it?" He dare ask.
"If it helps keep you safe, then yes." She replied immediately.
A sudden thought came to John, "Hey, with the amount of Triple-Eights we come across, I'm sure you'll restock on spares." He chuckled dryly.
Cameron wasn't sure how to reply to John's dry sense of humor so simply replied in agreement. "Mostly likely."
Robert Kent was hunched forward in his chair, his hands clasped together and pressed up against his mouth, so many things were running through his mind; he'd already started the next phase of his plans, he'd contacted her, told her his location, told her what she'd be up against security wise. It wasn't going to be an easy job. She'd asked for a few hours to think and to contact her at a specific time, the time of which was just a few minutes from now. Between then and now Robert had gone over the steps to his escape plan, how to make it easier for him to escape, how to cut off the security and how to hide from Samson and the security teams. Then if he escaped, what to do afterwards, he'd need to get back to his family quickly, he'd never be able to show his face anywehre ever again! But at least he'd be free.
'I need to pee.' He suddenly realised. Rising up from his desk he looked around to the others, no one seemed to notice nor care. He made his way out of the room and towards the nearest restroom. Upon stepping out of the room, he nearly collided with a large wall of man; it was Samson.
"Mr Kent, what are you doing?" The large man asked stoically behind him were two other security officers, each in body armor and holding some kind of military rifle, Kent didn't know guns.
Robert used all his self control not to release his bladder then and there, "Uh, just heading to the restroom is all." He glanced down, seeing the same security rifle in Samson's hand.
Samson stared at Robert for a little longer before turning his head towards the nearest restroom. "Just there Mr Kent, try not to take long." Samson instructed before moving around Robert and continued to march, followed quickly by the two other security officers.
'Jesus.' Robert thought with relief then rushed into the restroom.
While in there, Robert used the quiet moment to go over his plan once more. Make contact with his would-be rescuers, go over his side of the plan, wait for instructions. Then make it up from there. Oh god he really hoped this would work.
Once finished in the bathroom, he walked calmly back to his desk.
"Oh hey Rob!" a feminine voice spoke up from his right. He turned seeing one of his colleagues run up to him. "Listen, I was going over some of your work from the other day and I wanted to ask if you could take a look at some of my notes, I think we may have something."
Robert rubbed his tired eyes but nodded, "Yeah sure. I'm just working on something right now. A quick thought while it's still in my head otherwise," he chuckled and shrugged in a goofy manner, "it'll fly right out of my head."
The woman nodded with understanding, "sure sure, you know where I am, just come to my desk whenever you're ready."
Robert smiled gave a reassuring, friendly smile before making his way back to his desk and continued to work. Quietly he pulled the flash drive from under his desk once more, slowly to ensure no one was looking in his direction and that his actions wouldn't raise any suspicions on the cameras. He inserted the flash drive into his computer, glancing around only with his eyes and subtle head movements, he was still in the clear. The program on his flash drive came up in the corner of his screen, he typed in her number.
"etaf on" he typed in the security code.
"7991-92-80"came the reply back a few seconds later followed by "I have my plan, it's going to be risky?"
"I cn mke it esier"
Robert quietly went over his plan with her as she went over hers, the two coming up with something which would be difficult, borderline insane, timing would have to be precise. But it was possible. Robert felt bullet sized sweat drops run down his face. This was it, he was either going to be free, or dead.
It was just after five in the afternoon when Derek finally returned home.
He looked towards the living room searching for Sarah or John, finding neither of them there. He looked towards the shed outside before making his way to the basement.
"Derek, that you?" Sarah called out loudly from the stairway
"Yeah! It's me!" he replied seeing her come down the final step and walk towards him.
"Find anything useful?" she asked, stopping infront of him.
"I might have a lead, but I'm not sure if it'll turn up anything good. I'm going to scope it out a little bit more though." he replied while rubbing his forehead in a tired manner.
Sarah Connor nodded, "Anything could be useful at this point, but I've got something. An old acquaintance got in contact with me, directed someone they knew to me, this guy wants our help."
Dereh looked at her sceptically, "This isn't our usual thing Sarah. It's sound like trap."
"I know," Sarah conceded, "but this is ... personal. We need to get him out."
Derek crossed his arms, his scepticism increasing, "Get him out? Of what?"
Sarah broke eyes contact, sighing sharply and rubbed her tired eyes, "He's being held in a facility a days travel north of here, security is tight. We're going to sneak in, sneak him out then get the hell out of there"
"Who's going?" Derek dare ask.
"Originally I thought me and you, but it may be better if I take Cameron." She replied
"Why take the metal?" Derek asked confused. He noticed Sarah's mood change, her eyes narrowed and her mouth became a thin line.
"The track record of our luck has never been great." She replied sarcastically, a wry lopsided smile on her face
Derek nodded slowly, their luck had been pretty terrible. He glanced towards Sarah, "What about Hamburger?" he asked.
"Hamburg Derek. Michael Hamburg." Sarah corrected, letting her arms flop to her sides.
"Yeah, what'd the metal find out?" he asked.
"Cameron couldn't get anything, there was another machine, something new, she said…" Sarah spoke before being interrupted.
"Wait, wait." He said a little taken back as he lifted his hands for Sarah to pause. "What do you mean by new?" he asked.
"Something new, an unknown model, Cameron said it looked like a woman, but it was tougher, strong than a Trip-Eight." Sarah said.
Derek looked to the floor, if it wasn't one thing it was another. A new model? More powerful than the Triple-Eight. Bad was written all over it.
"This rescue op, you sure you don't want me tagging along?" he asked, trying to get his mind off of the new threat.
"I need someone here to protect John," Sarah replied, "If you came with me, we'd have to bring John and I'd prefer to keep him away from trouble."
"This facility got a name or anything?"
'EPITSOME LOS ANGELES RESEARCH FACILITY'
Read the large sign infront of the complex. The Cyborg scanned the sign and looked at the building infront of her. It was dark now, she'd been driving for hours to reach this place.
CURRENT TIME – 23:11 PACIFIC TIME ZONE UTC-8
She turned to look at the security perimeter infront of her, nothing fancy, wire gates, security check point with an armed guard standing outside the checkpoint and another inside the security booth. She scanned the first man.
ADULT MALE:
HEIGHT – 5 FOOT 8 INCHES
TARGET ARMED-
HECKLER & KOCH MP5 9MM - A5 VARIANT
SIG SAUER 226 9MM
THREAT – VERY LOW
The second man was concealed by the booth for her to properly identify anything about him other than his approximate age.
The woman drove her car up to the check point, the guard wielding his gun got out of his booth and walked up to the car. Slowly the woman got out.
"Ma'am I'm gunna have to ask you to leave th-" He began to tell her as she walked up to him. Her hand shot out and enclosed around his neck like a vice and hoisted him up into air, with her other hand she tore the submachine gun from his grasp, pointed it at the guard in the booth and emptied the magazine into the glass. The other officer hit the ground, movement caught her peripheral vision as the man in her hand reached for his sidearm. With a firm squeeze she crushed his throat, damaging his windpipe, it wouldn't be a quick death, suffocation never was.
As the man choked and gasped for air she is equipment and put them in her car, she walked into the security booth, scanned the man on the ground confirming he was dead before pressing the button to open the gates. She moved back into her car and drove through towards the main building.
She parked her car outside and walked into the lobby. It was of fair size, a large fancy looking marble desk at the opposite side of the room with a receptionist behind it staring at her, around were room were other security officers, not as heavily armed as those outside, all armed with Sig P226 pistols. She immediately walked towards the receptionist's desk.
"Can I help you?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice
"I'm here to see Robert Kent. Tell him, I'm an old friend." she said, the receptionist blinked and shook her head.
"I'm sorry who?" she asked.
"A researcher here. I was told he worked here, he called me to come get him." The tall woman told her.
The security began to walk towards her.
"I'm sorry, but any information about our employees is top secret, I'm going to have to ask you to go quietly with these men." The receptionist said in a calming voice.
The Machine heard them close by. Like a snake she struck reached over the desk she grabbed the woman's suit jacket with her left hand lifted her from her seat all the while pulling her CZ85 from her waist with her right hand. She turned and fired two shot into the first man before his pistol even left its holster, the second dropped before his pistol was ready to fire, the woman detected several small calibre projectiles impact against the back of her neck and left shoulder blade as she turned towards the third and fourth guards, firing two more shots into the thirds chest then two more into the last.
The receptionist gasped seeing the men fall in what was only a few seconds, the armed woman turned around and looked the receptionist dead in the eye.
"How many floors are there in the complex?" The woman demanded.
"10, that includes the 8 above ground and 2 below." The receptionist replied timidly.
"Where are the stairs or elevators?" The woman demanded once more, the receptionist pointed at them, the woman looked. "Thank you." She said in monotone before throwing the woman against the wall, with a resounding smack the receptionist hit the wall then fell to the floor. Unconscious or dead, it didn't matter.
The woman looked up seeing security cameras, a greater security force would be coming for her, she holstered her pistol and volted over the desk and started accessing personnel files through the Receptionists computer all the while the alarm blared out loudly. She found him; Robert Kent. He worked on the fifth floor. So he was above ground, good that made her job easier, shutting off the computer and walked towards the exit. The woman turned and made her way back to her car, holstering her pistol. Behind her the multiple elevators were closing in on the ground floor.
The woman got back into her car, glanced over her shoulder ensuring her tools were secured, she waited, her eyes switching between the elevators and the steel panel doors. She needn't wait long, the elevator doors opened and armed security personnel ran into the lobby wielding automatic various automatic weapons, she immediately put her foot down on the accelerator and drove straight through the glass doors and was welcomed by a cacophony of automatic fire.
The woman slammed her foot on the breaks and spun the wheel, her car going into a spin, turning it into a makeshift weapon as it slammed into one unlucky security officer crushing him between the car fancy marble pillar, the pillar itself cracking and partially crumbling upon impact. The remainder of the security force repositioned themselves around the room and resumed fire on the car, bullets penetrating windows and doors, the tyres bursting with a sounding bang. Behind them the steel doors slid shut at last.
"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Yelled their commander.
The stopped some immediately started reloading their weapons. The car's alloy groaned for a moment, the only warning they had before the car door was kicked off its hinges and a few bursts of fire came from the vehicle downing two secuirty officers, others moved for what little cover they could find as others started firing once more as the occupant stepped out, her body and clothes riddled with holes, she raised an Mp5a3 in each hand and returned fire, shooting in short bursts into the nearest security members, before turning her attention to others.
She strode with power and control towards where some had taken cover, her targetting reticule locked on to one officer who leaned out of cover to fire, she raised one hand firing a burst of 9mm. The man cried out and covered his eyes, the cyborg fired another burst at him dropping him to the ground. She turned her gaze firing as others tried their luck to take her down. A few stray rounds pierced her skin around her cheek coming to an immediate stop as they slammed into her hardened coltan-titanium teeth. Her head snapped towards the source of the gunfire, bring up both machineguns she fired dropping the officer. She opened her mouth and bit down on the bullet crushing it before spitting it to the floor.
The Machine grabbed one of the fallen security officers, liberating his tactical vest of fresh Mp5 magazines and used them to reload her own weapons, she glanced upwards seeing the two remaining men looking for a way out, one made a quick break towards the door, she raised one freshly reloaded Mp5 and gunned him down. She looked towards the last one, a UMP .45acp Submachine gun in his hands, likely empty as he searched for another magazine on his body.
She took another spare magazine from the corpse and put it into her pants pocket. Letting the SMGs hang loosely from their strap over her shoulders she calmly walked back to her car and opened the back door, which immediately fell off, she threw the door aside, she didn't care, it wasn't her car, reached in retrieving her Ithaca shotgun in its scabbard and several stacks of C4 explosives.
Feet pounding repeatedly against the marble floor clued her in to the last officer running towards the exit. She turned drawing her .44 revolver from her shoulder holster and fired once, the man hit the floor and skidded a few feet before coming to a stop, she holstered the large handgun, picked up the C4 once more, slung the scabbard over her shoulder and marched towards the elevators. Opening the doors she threw two stacks into each elevator, and set the timer to ten seconds before sending the elevators down then headed back to the car. A resonating boom echoed through the elevator shafts and the lobby as the C4 detonated, buckling the metal doors as she wanted.
She marched back to the receptionists desk and looked to the computer, despite the gunfire that'd erupted around the room, the computer was untouched. She glanced towards the large entrance doors and windows, noting the large metal contraptions at the top of them, she looked through the computer for any security programs, finding it she shut off the alarm and activated the lobby's security doors. Large steel slabs of metal started sliding over the entrance and windows. Good that would keep them locked in the building, just in case, kneeling down she grabbed the computer's power cable and unplugged it, shutting it down. That would give her a little more time incase others got past her.
With the elevators out, there were still at least these two main stairs as a means to escape, she'd need to block one off. With only a little effort did she start pushing the car up one flight of stairs, the metal grinding against the marble floor through the burst rubber. Taking it up one set of stairs, nearing the second floor did she finally leave the vehicle there, another stack of C4 placed inside of it before she quickly retreated back the way she came. With such an important job one could never be too careful. Once more in the lobby she heard the car explode, effectively creating a blockade, she ascended the opposite stairs quickly.
She had a man to find.
Jason's Notes.
Well here is another chapter. I wanted a little more time developing my OC Terminatrix character, no she's not a X series model like in T3. I just wanted to call her the Terminatrix. I hope everyone is enjoying the story, I'm having a blast writing it a lot of fun. I apologies if I'm been too descriptive or detailed with the various guns and bullets, I am a big guns fan, I love guns, (I'm perfectly sane) I also liked older guns, so the Terminatrix likes using them too. I really hope the romance between John and Cameron comes across well, I am really worried that I'm not doing too good to please you readers, if I'm doing a good job, please let me know.
Thanks again.
Also as on January 2020. If you guys haven't played Terminator: Resistance, I'd really suggest doing so, it is a fun love letter to T1 and T2, and man I had a great time playing it!
Edit - January 2020
Modernised the Terminatrix's arsenal; replacing the Walther P-38 with a Cz85b and her Winchester 97 trench gun with an Ithaca M37 Stakeout.
More detailed information on what Sarah was doing in the shed, now that I know more about munitions rather than just firearms.
Keeping John and Cameron just friends, so removed the dancing and the "lovely lovely" stuff.
Added the Robert Kent scene, to explain how his part came to pass.
I have vastly reduced the size of the buidling from 30 floores to 10, as looking back 30 is majorly excessive.
Hope you guys enjoyed!