The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum

FRIDAY

I stride into the crowded police station and immediately find myself surrounded by police officers, all armed and extremely dangerous.

And who ignore me completely.

This is not unexpected.

I am presently in disguise. I am wearing the uniform of a CHiP - California Highway Patrolman - complete with motorcycle boots, helmet and mirrored sunglasses.

I have chosen one of the busiest precincts in South LA, where crime is commonplace as black, latinos and white criminal elements deal drugs and vie for supremacy on these meanest of streets. There are certainly many of these elements here. The place is packed with people either being arrested, interviewed, escorted to jail or simply waiting to file a complaint with one of the over-worked officers. It is noisy and chaotic. Perfect cover.

Everyone is too busy to notice me as I thread my way through to the rear offices. I need to find an empty one with a working computer terminal.

The office of Detective Ray Martinez appears to be a prime candidate. It is empty so I open the door and slip quietly inside.

I take a USB stick from my pocket and fit it to a spare port on the Dell desktop computer. A virus of my own devising is now rapidly downloading and will soon infect the entire LAPD mainframe. This has very strong firewalls and security protocols, but they will be no match for my virus. I didn't come all this way just to jerk around. Or do I mean jerking off? I will check with John later. I like to keep my database of human expressions accurate.

I remove the stick and prepare to leave when the door opens behind me.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here," comes a gruff male voice. "What's going on?"

"I brought the case files Ray requested," I lie. "He told me he wanted them A-SAP." The interloper is another cop, suspicious but his hands have not yet strayed towards the pistol at his hip. It may be possible to spare his life. If he cooperates and believes my lies.

"Oh. Well, Ray's on his break. Try the donut place on Vine. Ray's got a sweet tooth."

I smile. "Don't we all?"

"Ain't that the truth!" He rubs his oversize stomach ruefully. "Listen, you Chippies aren't allowed back here uninvited. Next time check at the desk. We can't let every Tom, Dick and Harry in off the street."

"If I meet Tom, Dick or Harry I will inform them of this rule."

He laughs and stands aside to let me pass. I have said something amusing it seems. Possibly a joke. The punchline is he gets to live.

MAD ELLIE

I leave the precinct the way I came in, unnoticed and unremarked. I walk three blocks then open the passenger door of a white Honda compact parked at the kerb.

Ellie Ryan is slumped down behind the steering wheel. She seems nervous, skittish even.

"Finally! I was getting worried."

"I was in no danger."

"Not you - me! This is a seriously badass neighbourhood. It's full of gangstas."

"Gangsters?" It seems a quaint, 1920s expression.

"Gangstas. Look, here's one now!"

A tubby black woman is walking towards us pushing a pram.

"She seems harmless," I suggest.

"Ya think? She probably deals drugs and has an Uzi hidden in the pram. They do, you know. You see it on TV. This place is a warzone."

The woman passes us by without a sideways glance.

"It appears you were mistaken."

"You know what they call white people here? The victim. Can we go now? I'm starting to get seriously freaked out."

Ellie relaxes once we are on the freeway and heading west towards more prosperous neighbourhoods, ones that presumably don't harbour gangstas with prams.

"Did everything go okay?"

"Affirmative."

"So the costume fooled them?"

"Apparently so."

"Wasn't it a great idea of mine?"

I concede she performed well. It was Ellie's idea to purchase a CHiP uniform from a Hollywood costumier. I had originally intended to steal one from a genuine Highway Patrolman and assume their identity. This way is better. Less bloodshed. I am learning restraint. And to trust others.

"So I did you a solid?"

"Soild?"

"A favour. That's what a solid is, a favour."

"Yes, you did me a solid."

Ellie has been an useful partner in crime. This was not a task I could safely divulge to John or his mother. They might not have been so keen permitting me to invade a police precinct and attempt to hack into the entire LAPD mainframe. Sometimes it is necessary to act on my own iniative. Future John granted me this licence: to do everything in my power to serve and protect his mother and his younger self. I will not fail him.

"So...I was thinking maybe you'd do me a solid in return?"

"What d'you have in mind?"

"There's a girl at school, Ren Taylor."

I nod. She is on my database. Lauren 'Ren' Taylor. We share science class. She tried out for soccer squad but could not trap a ball sufficiently well to meet Ramona's exacting requirements.

"What about her?"

"I want her whacked."

"You wish me to hit her?"

"I want you to kill her."

"Why?"

Ellie's hands squirm on the wheel. "She...bugs me."

"No. That is insufficient reason to terminate someone."

"Okay, okay. She's dating Michael Carver."

"The boy you like?"

"No! God, no! Why d'you say that?"

"Because you draw his likeness constantly. You flashed him a boob once. You stare at him frequently in science class and in the corridors when you pass."

"Okay, maybe I like him just a teeny-tiny bit. Nothing's gonna happen if that skank Ren Taylor's got her claws into him. Just chow down on her neck and drain the bitch dry."

"No."

Ellie sighs with disappointment. "Why is it too much to ask? I saw what you did to that girl Caroline when she got too close to your boyfriend. You bashed her brains in with a soccer ball."

"That was an accident."

"Oh puh-leese. I was there. You deliberately took her out. Did you know the x-ray she had done showed a fluid build up on her brain? The hospital shaved her hair so they could drain it off. She was the prettiest girl in school and now she looks like shit."

I stay silent. I did not know this. I was too preoccupied maintaining the correct timelines and returning John to life to bother monitoring school gossip.

"If anyone thought you did that on purpose," Ellie continues in a soft, wheedling voice. "You might get in a lot of trouble..."

I know a threat when I hear it. I am hearing one now.

I slide my hand across until it is resting on her throat. I begin to squeeze. Ellie's breathing quickens as she realises what is happening. The Honda swerves slightly in its lane. My other hand steadies the wheel.

"It would be unwise of you to attempt to blackmail me. There will be consequences."

"No! I'm sorry!" she gasps as her airway constricts. "I didn't mean it! Please!"

I slowly slacken my grip. "You did me a soild. Now I will do you one in return. I will spare your life."

"Thank you. Oh thank you, sweet demon mistress!"

HOME

A chastened Ellie drops me off the customary three blocks shy of the safe house. I walk the rest of the way still in costume. My leather boot heels make a satisfying crunching sound as they pound the sidewalk. People clear out of my way believing I am a real cop. Respect, baby.

Jerold Ramirez is in his front yard working on the engine of his VW Bug which seems to be malfunctioning again. It is probably the solenoid. A recurrent problem in these models. He looks up at me and smiles quizzically.

"Hey Cam. What you been up to?"

"I did a solid."

"Yeah? Good for you. Kinda blocked up myself. Alys says I need more roughage in my diet." He frowns. "What's with the get up? Fancy dress contest?"

This seems as good a reason as any for what I am wearing.

"Yes," I confirm. "I won second prize."

"Oh. Ah - congratulations."

"Thank you."

I go inside the house. John and his mother aren't home. They are most likely on a supermarket run. A note on the kitchen table affirms this. It is thoughtful of John to let me know in this manner so that I won't worry. Or run amok.

I find Snowy asleep on the bed in my attic room. He looks up hopefully as I enter then hunkers down again when he sees I have no food nor inclination to scratch him behind his ears in the manner he so enjoys. He is a slave to sensations.

I boot up my laptop computer. A new icon has appeared on my desktop. I click on it.

The entire database of the LAPD opens up before me. Several terabytes of data, constantly being added to in realtime.

Yowza.

I type in a search request for John and discover he is dead. This is excellent news.

I type in a search request for myself and discover I am also dead. Even better.

According to the report we both perished in the high school fire. It seems the NSA did not share information of our survival with another government agency.

I check out NSA agents Foster and Duffy whom I terminated scant days ago. Neither death made the national media. Nor are they on the LAPD database. The NSA are keeping the event under wraps. Interesting.

There is little on the investigation into Chola's murder. I terminated her and the bodyguard she travelled with in a motel close to the Mexico border. It is being handled by the San Diego Police. There is one small file: the SDPD requesting information on Chola's last known business contacts dated three days ago.

So far so good.

My luck runs out the moment I search for Lars Anderson.

Sarah Connor is implicated in his murder.

I access all relevant files. It appears she left blood evidence behind, most likely from the cut she sustained on her forehead during the fight. Forensics took a sample swab and matched it to her DNA profile already on file. Four detectives are currently working the case. I review their case notes. So far they have nothing much to go on apart from the obvious DNA link which is leading them precisely nowhere. Nevertheless it is a development I will have to bring to the attention of John. This could have wider reaching implications for us all.

-0-

John and his mother arrive home at 6.14pm. They seem in good spirits. It will be shame to bum them out. I help them unpack the groceries before telling them my news.

"The cut on your head, mom. Dammit! We should've cleaned up better."

Sarah Connor, predictably, takes a different tack.

"Who authorised you to hack into the LAPD computer system?"

"I authorised myself."

"So you're operating outside our control?"

"I am doing what is necessary to protect John Connor."

"Will they discover the virus and realise the system's been compromised?"

"Unlikely. It is a very sophisticated virus for this time period."

"Mom, let's not beat each other up over this," John suggests. "The important thing is you're implicated in a second murder. If the cops release your photograph to the media then we could be in trouble. Jerold and Alys next door will recognise you. So will people at the supermarket."

"And the man who lives at number twenty-eight," I add.

"Why him?"

"He observes you closely when you run past in your jogging outfit. I believe he finds you sexually attractive despite your advanced years and the unlikelihood of your bearing more progeny."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"If the cops do issue a photo will you get a heads up?"

"Yes. Everything they do is known to me."

"Can you intervene? Buy us some time?"

"I can crash the entire LAPD mainframe for several hours."

"Good. It's a start. We need a bolthole if things go bad," John says. "Another safehouse far from anywhere else where you won't be recognised if we have to go to ground."

"Mexico? The mountains?"

"No. Somewhere near to the city. We need to be here if we're going to prevent Judgement Day. There are some small holiday cottages down the coast. Remote and isolated but less than a few hours drive away. That'd be my pick."

"Good idea."

"I'll get right on it."

"So," Sarah Connor says with a wry grin. "The man in number twenty-eight. What's he like?"

"Fat and bald."

She sighs. "Just my luck."

"I believe genetics and a poor diet were more responsible than luck."

NIGHT

I return early from my patrol as is my wont these days. I make my way to John's room, remove my clothing and slip between the sheets. John welcomes me with a kiss.

"You smell smokey tonight."

"There was a bonfire. I decided to investigate."

"A problem?"

"Vagrants attempting to keep warm."

"The night's are turning chilly."

"Winter is coming."

Another kiss, longer this time, with tongues.

"I could shower if my scent offends you?"

"No. You might wake mom."

"We don't want that."

"Definitely not."

"Is it your turn on top or mine?"

"Let's play it by ear."

And this is what we do.

SATURDAY

Over breakfast John announces he has found a possible bolthole, a last redoubt should the worst come to the worst.

"It's a few miles inland from the coast. About thirty minutes from the nearest freeway. Four bedroom house set in ten acres of land. Miles from anywhere. It's available on a long or short lease. I thought Cam and I could motor down and check it out today."

Sarah Connor is agreeable and we set off at ten in the SUV. Snowy accompanies us.

While we are crusing south on the Interstate I decide to give John his present.

"For you."

"An iPhone? Cam, you needn't have. I'm perfectly happy with the disposable ones."

"I have made some modifications you might appreciate."

"Like what?"

"I've written an app that allows you to understand Snowy's barks."

"An app that translates dog?"

I show John how to work it and he speaks to Snowy.

"Hey, boy, you okay back there, enjoying the ride?"

"Woof, woof!"

These words appear on the screen:

snowy happy. thank you, john.

John laughs and shakes his head.

"Where d'you think we're going?"

"Woof, woof!"

wide open spaces, cameron promise. snowy run. snowy loves to run.

"Oh man, this is awesome! Thanks, Cam. Steve Jobs would freak!"

The prospective bolthole is accessed via a long stony private road. At the end is a simple clapboard house painted white. It sits alone in the landscape surrounded by open countryside. The house is empty. John and I peer through the windows. It is unfurnished.

"Shall we break in?"

"No. I think we can see all we need to see from out here. It's remote. Well hidden. Pretty much perfect for our needs."

Snowy starts barking. John consults his iPhone.

rabbits! snowy spot rabbits! snowy chase rabbits? please?

John laughs. "Okay. But don't go too far."

Snowy bounds off and is soon lost amid the green rolling fields.

John unfolds a map of the area and studies it. "Nearest house is over that way. Freeway's thirty minutes drive back the way we came. There's a yacht marina five miles west. Maybe we check it out later. If we've really got our backs to the wall that would be a good escape route. You could hotwire a powerboat, couldn't you?"

"Most likely," I agree. "I will have to see it first to be sure."

We find Snowy a long way from the house staring intently at some rabbit holes.

rabbits! snowy chase? snowy catch? rabbits!

"Not now, fella, we're gonna go see some boats."

boats? snowy not understand. explain boats.

"Uh - like automobiles that float on the water."

snowy not like boats. stay and chase rabbits.

John sighs. "Cam..."

I pick Snowy up and carry him back to the SUV. He complains all the way, including some expletives he has learnt from Sarah Connor. He is such a little pottymouth.

MARINA

The yacht marina is full of boats of all shapes and sizes. Some have furled sailing rigs while others are expensive motor cruisers. All have their transcoms shrouded to keep out the inclement winter weather.

"Looks pretty quiet," John states. "Probably a lot busier in the summer. Let's take a closer look."

We leave Snowy sulking in the car and head down onto the pontoons where the boats are moored. There are no people around to see us.

"Let's take a peep inside."

John lifts the canvas shroud of a largish motor cruiser. He creates a gap which we both climb through.

"Think you can hotwire this?"

I examine the controls. "Yes. A piece of pie."

"Cake. Piece of cake."

I make the necessary alterations to my database.

John explores further. There is a cabin at the prow with a double bed. He sits on it.

"What are we doing now?" I enquire.

"Can't you guess?"

"Give me a clue."

John pulls me to him and begins to unbutton my shirt, revealing my bra. He lifts the cups causing my boobs to spill out.

I require no further clues.

-0-

When we are done John smooths down the bed and we exit the way we came. No one notices a thing. Except Snowy.

why john and cameron gone long time?

"Something came up." John smirks for some reason

cameron smells like john!

"Oh man, busted by a dog! We definitely won't be telling mom about this gadget," says John. "I wouldn't put it past her to interrogate Snowy."

snowy go home now?

"That's right, fella. How about we stop and pick up some Ben & Jerry's on the way?"

rocky road! rocky road!

John laughs. "Sure thing, fella."

snowy love john! snowy love cameron!

"Right back attcha, boy."

SUNDAY

John has news for us at breakfast.

"That emergency safe house we visited? It's ours. I just arranged a year long lease."

"How?" Sarah Connor demands.

"I contacted the owner by email and told him I'm a writer looking for someplace quiet and secluded to finish my novel. I wired the cash and it's a done deal."

"He wasn't suspicious?"

"I can be pretty persuasive."

"Then I better take a look at this place."

"Great. We'll drive down today. A family outing. Don't get many of those without people trying to kill us."

We arrive at noon. Once the SUV rolls to a stop Snowy bounds out and disappears into the wide open countryside. He is off to chase rabbits no doubt.

"It's certainly remote," Sarah Connor declares looking around.

"Yeah. Let's take a look inside. The owner said there's a spare key under a plant pot."

We find the key and enter the house. Our footsteps echo on the bare floorboards.

"Power?"

"Just needs the main switch turned on."

"Water?"

"Same thing. And there are four bedrooms. Everyone gets a room - even Snowy."

Sarah Connor suggests some improvements to the door locks. I suggest mining the approach road and siting a machine gun turret on the roof. Both ideas are vetoed on the grounds of practicality. Pity. Nothing deters unwelcome visitors like a machine gun turret on the roof.

John is full of plans. You would think his enthusiasm would be infectious but no his mother listens in stony silence.

"Where's the nearest neighbour?" she asks finally.

"Uh - about a mile away, I think."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Which direction and who owns it?"

"North and I - uh - don't know."

"You didn't bother to find out, in other words. Sloppy recon, soldier, very sloppy. I thought I taught you better than that."

"Mom-"

"You've had your say, John. Now it's my turn. You think I don't see what's going on here? This isn't about a safe house, a redoubt, an emergency bolthole - whatever you're calling it today. I don't think it ever was, except as an excuse. This is about your independence, wanting a place of your own away from me. There's another girl in your life, isn't there? I've thought so for some time. This place could double as a lovenest, far from my prying eyes."

"Mom, it's not like that!"

"Who is she? Someone from school?"

"There's no one."

"You've been different ever since the NSA breakout."

"Different how?"

"Happier, mostly. More relaxed. This is a good thing, John. I want you to be happy."

"Maybe I'm just glad to be alive."

"Maybe. Alright, you can have this place. It's a done deal anyway, you've seen to that. Visit at weekends. Bring the girl here, if she'll come. Though how will you explain Cameron's presence?"

"I - uh - it's not an issue right now."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. You're a resourceful boy. And I was your age once. I can be over-protective, stifling even. I know. Just take care. The world is depending on you."

John opens his mouth to reply. It appears he is going to argue, to claim none of this is true, that she is mistaken. Then his jaw closes and he stares at the ground. He looks very young suddenly, like a schoolboy caught breaking the rules.

"Thanks, mom," he whispers.

-000-

Didn't think about this fanfic for weeks. When I did the next few chapters popped into my head. Seems the story's not done telling itself. Me, I'm just along for the ride.

Hope this strikes a chord. Most teenagers desire independence - just not the bills that accompany it!

Dog translation app. Bit of fun. Gives Snowy personality and means I can involve him more.