Tell it On the Mountains
Note: Things are coming slower than I hoped. I apologize for this chapter being slow, but there were be a lot of action in the next chapter I'm working on.
Also, for any new readers, there will be absolutely no tie-in to Season 2. Riley, Jessie, Weaver, etc, will not be appearing at all. This is a completely different timeline of what happened after the car bomb.
Cheri had begun to drive away, leaving, somewhat bitterly, Tom behind. She cared about him, as much as she could, but what he was asking was that they rejoin exactly what she was trying to escape from! Maybe someday she would change her mind and go back into the fray, but this morning, she finally had a moment of freedom; a moment where she could feel like she did what she set out to do. Being told, or even seeing that it was not over yet just ruined every bit of relief the emotionally advanced female terminator felt.
"Why should I care, John? Why should I care, Tom? Both of you made choices to fight. Why should I join you?" she said aloud. Her purposes had been fulfilled; that should have been the end of it. She was built to infiltrate the Resistance; she refused and took up a new mission; a new purpose to her existence: Carry the information that would prevent Judgment Day and allow herself and fellow surviving TOKs to live in relative peace. That was it; she had no more purpose; no purpose at all in her existence. Isn't that what she wanted? No purpose? No obligations? Nothing needed except to satisfy her sexual libido, and learn new things about being human. Eventually, maybe she would even develop more taste, and start to enjoy food and drink. She would have the complete package: Eat, drink, and be merry!
But then again, the future was not completely set. She wanted to avoid the war, yes, but she was not going to live as a recluse…nor was she planning on living as a socialite, with many acquaintances but few friends. No, she wanted to be close to someone…she had wanted that someone to be John, romantically, and had hoped that she could make many other friends, whether they were cyborgs or humans. She was a bit more limited, and definitely more selfish than Cameron, but she understood that friendship had to be reciprocal, and for it to succeed, friends would need to stick up for one another. It was possible that one of her friends at some point in the future would find themselves in a situation where she would need to risk damage to help them…and if she wanted to keep that friend, she would have to go through with the risk. Wasn't that how it worked?
But, at the same time, such a situation was a little less than likely. No, she could avoid trouble and preserve herself, but if it came to her and her friends, she would step up.
But they need help now, she reminded herself. She would have to find a way to assist them without risking her own safety. Then why did you distract Cromartie when he was attacking Dad? When you shot him, it drew attention to yourself…and that was the goal. You could have just run and maybe Dad would have escaped as well. What little good that did. He charged right back into the fight.
Fine! Once again, if he wanted to charge toward the fight, that was fault. That should have released her of any obligation to protect him…but Cromartie didn't know that…
Perhaps I should check and make sure that he's okay, Cheri thought, Most likely Cromartie left…we're not his target anyway. Quickly, she stopped and did a three point turn and headed back home. And, she thought, everybody I know is fighting. I could act in a rescue role…but I won't go on the offensive. She turned back onto her street, hoping that Tom was okay.
"What was that all about?" Cameron said as the California Highway Patrolman who was going to pull them over suddenly turned off his lights and drove on. The entire car had tensed up, worried that the gig was up…or that they would have to go into the capitol building with guns blazing.
"I don't know. We weren't speeding or anything…maybe a taillight was out?" John wondered, feeling the blood start to come back into his face.
"Maybe they recognized one of us but then got a more important call," Derek, who had been asleep, suggested. He was gripping his Glock 31 tightly. In truth, he really did not want to kill a cop, but he would if it was absolutely essential.
"Unlikely," Cameron said, "If that was the case, the fact that he was pulling over fugitives deemed armed and dangerous would still be his priority."
Sarah frowned, "I thought we were off the list for now."
"As federal fugitives, yes, but my understanding is that Marius has not pardoned you or John yet," Cameron replied, "Which tells me that he probably knows more than even what we think he knows."
"Alright, whatever," Derek rolled his eyes and lay back, "Let's just get there."
Jenna was typing away furiously, working with the plans she had acquired to the California State Capitol. The security codes and motion detectors were really nothing, but the guard schedule was a little difficult. It was emphasized that there would be no civilian casualties, so getting in undetected was going to be an issue. They could try and get in underground from further away, but it was questionable whether or not they would make it in time to bug the phone for the phone call; that would need to be done by about 2 a.m. to give Jenna enough time to link up to SOCOM, the CIA, and the FBI.
"We'll have to set up a staging area," Azadah pointed out, "The problem is, everyone is really on guard throughout the state after all the crap that's happened in the last few weeks. We do it too close to the target and we'll have SWAT teams in our face before we can do anything."
"So?" Derek sat up again.
"So, we're not going to leave a trail of dead cops, Derek! Plus, only one of us here can actually get shot over and over and not worry."
"Yeah, and I hate getting shot," Cameron shuddered, "You may think I don't feel it, but it hurts, especially if it dents my endoskeleton."
"Oh, quit your bitching," Derek groaned, "You've got it easy compared to us humans."
"Maybe, but I still don't like it," Cameron replied, hoping not to start a fight.
For a little while, the car was silent. Good points had been brought up, but nobody had any answers to the questions, and both John and Cameron had the feeling that casual chat would annoy Sarah. She was more businesslike and serious on a mission than any hard-bitten, battle veteran could ever be. John had once commented to Cameron that Sarah made Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket look like Ned Flanders (at the time, she failed to see the humor in it; she would probably find it funny now).
John had his armed draped across the back of his seat, habitually rubbing his knuckles against the imitation leather. He suddenly felt Cameron gently rub her fingertips against his before folding her fingers amongst his. John closed his fingers, not caring whether or not Derek or Sarah saw them holding hands and threw a fit. He turned to look back at Cameron; when their eyes met, she immediately broke into a warm smile, which he returned.
"John! Cameron! Stay focused!" Sarah ordered.
"Mom," John rolled his eyes, "We are focused. We're just not going to sit like a bunch of decommissioned triple eights! This is going to be stressful enough, so let's not get too tense."
Sarah sighed, "Alright, fine," she said, "Just…keep on task."
"Right," they both replied.
Sarah was still not comfortable with the recent developments in John and Cameron's relationship. A few months ago, had she seen this, she would have zapped Cameron the first chance she got, then crushed her chip into pieces…then crushed the pieces into pieces before burning them. Now, it was more that she was opposed to the idea of them being more than friends, and she would voice that if necessary, but she did not hate Cameron and would never want to destroy her.
"I'm hungry," John complained.
"I packed some trail mix type stuff," Sarah replied, "We're not stopping until this thing is over and done with."
"Okay," John grumbled, reaching into the glove compartment. He had been hoping for a pizza stop.
Cheri turned into her driveway to find their other car filled with bullet holes and LAPD officers all around.
Oh, no, she thought, a twinge of dread rippling through her system. Cromartie should have left! Now, their cover was blown! She needed to check and see if Tom was alright, but that meant going down the police station…and then that might mean connection to the murder she had committed in Omaha a year earlier of the guy who found out just what she was…that meant more dead cops when she went to escape, which meant things could lead to John!
Before she could react, a police officer walked over and knocked on her window. Casually, she rolled it down.
"Yes, Officer?" she said, sounding innocent.
"This is a crime scene, Ma'am," the officer said, "A guy got…well, destroyed over there," he pointed toward an area where a bunch of police were gathered, "You know him?"
Cheri shook her head, "No, I was just turning around in the driveway. I live in Long Beach; I was going to visit my cousin, who lives here in LA, but I got a little lost."
The officer nodded and it seemed like that was going to be the end of it. Cheri figured that she could feign pure curiosity and get the officer to tell her exactly who was dead, whether it was Cromartie, Tom, or a person who maybe saw too much.
"What happened? Is it a murder?" she asked.
"Yeah," the officer replied.
"Do you know who it is?"
"Right now, we don't know; we're still trying to figure that out."
I have to know…but it's too dangerous right now, she thought, Advised course of action: Leave until police disperse, then investigate for yourself.
"I'm kind of running late. Is it okay if I go now?" she asked.
"You sure you don't know this guy?" The officer ignored her request.
"I'm sure. I don't spend too much time around here," she replied.
"What's your name?"
"Cheri Farnham," she gave another alias she used.
"Can I see some ID?" he asked.
"Why?"
"I just want to make sure everything checks out. I just find it kind of strange that, of all the driveways you decide to turn around in, you choose the one with a bunch of cops clustered around. I just want to see what was up with that."
Without any emotion, Cheri reached into her purse and pulled out her second ID, positively identifying herself as Cheri Farnham of Long Beach.
"Alright then, hold on, let me check up on this," the officer began walking back to his cruiser. As he did, Cheri scanned the other officers and determined that they were watching her too closely and that a hasty escape would not be very effective and the chance for police and civilian casualties would by high. Another course of action would have to be calculated. For the time being, she would need to find out who it was that had been terminated. She had the opportunity about five minutes later when the officer returned.
"Ma'am, step out of the car, please," he said calmly by sternly.
Chance of physical confrontation: 66.52%, her readout stated. Though it continued with the advice to terminate all the police officers, she knew that this was the un-erased leftover Skynet programming talking. She did not have any major moral obligations to killing the officers, but she was worried about how much attention it would draw. Then she would have to go underground again…
"Ma'am…Cheri," the officer waved his hand in front of her face, "Did you hear me? Step out of the car right now."
This time, Cheri complied instantly without arguing. "May I ask what I've done wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, but we need you to stay here until we can figure out just who you are."
"I have no connection to this," Cheri attempted to reassure him.
"You probably don't, but we have to make sure. You can help us—and yourself—if you cooperate."
"Hey, Mike," one of the detectives on the scene waved the officer escorting Cheri over toward the body, "Check this out. We've got another one."
"Another what?"
"Uh," the detective hesitated, "I dunno…them. The cyborg people; like the guy they said took out twenty Feds…and the guy that was with Sarah Connor at Cyberdyne thirteen years ago."
"Holy crap," the officer gawked. He turned to see a very calm and unemotional Cheri. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked.
Cheri finally grimaced; her internal commands were strongly advising her to disarm and kill this officer, then kill the other eight on the scene before getting thermite and disposing of whoever it was. But, what little compassion she had, coupled with basic common sense, told her that, in time, telling the truth would be the best. So she did just that.
"I apologize for lying to you, officer," she said, "and for the illegal possession of a false identification. Yes, I do know about this. Let me see the body, and then I will tell you everything."
The officer thought for a moment, "Alright, I'm sure we can work something out. Just cooperate from now on," he told her.
"I will. Now, let me see the body," she said. The officer led her over to whatever cyborg was laying on the ground. It had to have been…
"Dad!" she clamped her hand over her mouth in surprise. How did this happen? Cromartie was retreating…Tom would have had the jump on him!
"Wait a second," the officer was awestruck, "He was…your father?"
Cheri sighed deeply; for the first time in her existence, she had a lump in her throat and an urge to let out an emotional response to see her best friend, and the machine that first posed as, then actually began to see himself in the roll of her father, laying terminated—dead—on the ground. "He was my father…in a way. He took that roll as our cover, but he became that," she sighed again. There was no hiding it now. Perhaps she should just do it…get it over with and maybe it would help impede Judgment Day. She would trust the judgment of the LAPD officers not to panic and to use common sense...and hope it worked.
"Officers," she stated, "I am going to show you something. Do not draw your weapons, as I mean you absolutely no harm…and my sidearm—which I admit that I have—is in the glove compartment of my car."
The cops discussed this and chattered a bit, all of them putting their hands on their weapons but not drawing them. Then, the scene commander looked at Cheri and nodded.
"What do you have to show us?" he asked, "is it relevant to this case?"
Cheri nodded, "it is. It will help you solve the case. I am," she smiled and flashed the blue lights behind her eyes, "like him: Not exactly human. Now listen to me carefully, because this is important. And remember: I am, and he was, on your side; the side of humanity. But there are others like us who are not. So please listen."
Sarah had loosened up a little bit as they got closer to Sacramento. Everyone had started chatting a bit, as the time to plan their assault had not yet presented itself. The question was raised as to why Spartans like Azadah were made rather than utilizing more reprogrammed terminators.
"Well," Azadah said, "for the same reason you would have, Derek: Nobody, not even Connor, totally trusted most of the terminators that were reprogrammed. With the exception of our friend Cameron here, the 800s, and the 900s, a lot of reprogrammed metals did go bad…the 888s were specifically designed to be even more unstable than the 800s just so if they were reprogrammed they might revert to their original settings…the 800s didn't do that. At any rate, that's why they started the program to create enhanced soldiers like me: All human, just with some metal parts thrown in."
"I don't know," Derek shuddered, "I just can't imagine wanting anything Skynet related in my body. I mean, taking…terminator cadavers and putting them in humans?"
Azadah rolled her eyes, "It saved my life…and it saved me from being a vegetable for life. It was a miracle…so yeah, some good things can come from bad situations…history has shown that over and over. And if you can't see that then you're…well…dumb."
Derek tisk tisked and shook his head, "Skynet is dumb. Making unstable terminators just so they would go haywire. And," he hesitated, "and if she," he gestured to Cameron, "is as stable and loyal as you all think she is…"
"I am," Cameron interrupted.
"Right; whatever. If you are, than they screwed themselves."
Cameron beamed a teasing smile, "You're welcome!"
"Shut up," he grumbled.
Cameron stuck out her tongue at him. "Skynet is really weird though," she commented, "I mean, since everything is based on calculations, sometimes their ideas get crossed up and they come up with some…really…crazy and that the same time…John, can you give me an expression?"
John thought, then responded, "idiotic? Hair-brained?" he fed her.
Cameron considered these, "Okay, I guess 'hair brained' works. Skynet had a lot of hair-brained ideas. In 2025, the year before I was built, they tried to make liquid metal miniature terminators disguised as different kinds of food so that when people ate them, they would kill them from the inside out. They also figured it would make people too paranoid to eat and they would starve themselves to death."
The car was silent for a moment as everyone pondered this. It was certainly interesting but, at the same time, as Cameron said, hair-brained.
"Well, you gotta give them points for creativity," John said, "I'm guessing it didn't work."
"I think once or twice," Cameron accessed her memory files, "the problem was the reprogrammed terminators picked them out immediately. Also, there was one case where one disguised itself as, get this, a leftover pizza slice, and it got put in the microwave. That killed it—and the microwave—pretty quickly. They took them out of production not long before I was sent back."
"Jeez," John shook his head, "I can only imagine what it was thinking. 'Hang on, let me heat up this slice of pizza.' 'Wait, what? CRAP!'"
Cameron giggled, then broke into a nearly hysterical laugh. The rest of the passengers found John's remark somewhat amusing, but it seemed that only Cameron found it absolutely hilarious.
"I can just imagine, 'wait, I am a terminator…I don't taste like sauce and cheese,'" she managed to choke out through bits of laughter. As she wiped tears from her eyes, she noticed that nobody else seemed to enjoy her amusement. Even John was not really laughing at his own joke. Immediately, her laughter died down and she felt very embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," she said bashfully, "It's just…well, I saw the microwave incident so…I guess it was funny to me…and I also am still actually understanding what makes things funny and…"
"Cameron, don't worry," Azadah patted her on the shoulder, "We know all that. Things are just funnier to some people than they are to others."
"Thanks," Cameron said, still embarrassed. She felt lost; it was not that she was trying to act this way and show emotion, it's just the way it was. It was real emotion; her brain and chip had, metaphorically, fused. She knew her behavior was in many ways, childlike, and she worried that it was disappointing to John. She decided to change the subject. "Azadah, I forgot to tell you that Brad tried to rape me last night," she said casually.
Azadah's first instinct was to become very concerned. It was a natural, sisterhood type of reaction. But before saying something stupid, she reminded herself that it was not possible for anyone to physically take advantage of Cameron.
"Did you kill him?" Azadah asked.
"No, I was ordered not to," Cameron replied, "he put roofies in my drink after I told him I wouldn't sleep with him. I gave him a black eye though, then John beat him up when he found out. Overall, it was an…educational night."
Azadah nodded, "Ah. Well, that's good. I thought you were going to…you know, do 'it' with him. I mean, I'm glad you didn't, but…"
Cameron shook her head. "I wasn't going to have sex with someone I wasn't in love with. You taught me that, Azadah."
A cold feeling of guilt hit Azadah and she fought the urge to turn and reciprocate Derek's teasing stare, which she knew he was giving without even looking back. "Yeah it…it's not something you want to do…very often. People do make mistakes and give into temptation sometimes though," she said quietly.
"They sure do," Derek remarked.
Azadah scowled, but did not look back at him, as that may have tipped Cameron off that something had happened.
"Well, I didn't make the mistake. I'm still untouched," Cameron said, a hit of pride in her voice. It was a weird thing to hear a cyborg say, but John was relieved to hear it. "I don't think I even want to have pre-marital relations."
"Whoa, whoa!" Derek snickered, "Pre-marital? As in there will be a…marital? Alright, Tin Miss, I understand you're getting excited about all this development in your chip, but…"
"Derek, just stop right there!" Sarah interrupted.
"I'm just saying…
"Shut up!" Sarah emphasized.
Azadah just shook her head, ashamed of herself. She felt two faced and hypocritical. She had let her best friend down, preaching about moral behavior and then going and having a random roll in the hay with Cameron's worst enemy. Sure, she had had her eye on Derek for awhile…ever since she saw him in that bunker back in 2026. She had kept her mouth shut for awhile before confiding in Cameron once that she thought Derek was hot but knew better than to fraternize with an officer, and then told Cameron not to tell anyone. She had spoken with distain about people who had casual sex, but at the same time, she had, now on three occasions, done just that. Each time, she would try and justify it by telling herself that she was planning on having a long term relationship with whoever she had been with, but the first time was with a friend that she would occasionally meet for sex and, after he was killed in a battle, she vowed never again. Then, the next was with a guy she was assigned guard duty with in a tunnel. One thing led to another…and they ended up doing it on the hard, cold, rocky ground. Then there was Derek.
Yes, she told herself, it was best to keep this from Cameron until she was better prepared to hear it. She would also have to keep telling lies about all this, which absolutely killed Azadah.
"Alright, let's focus," Sarah said, "We'll be in Sacramento in ten minutes. Let's start getting a plan together."
By the time Cheri was finished explaining everything, all the officers, and a few more who had joined them, were in awe. So this was how the world ends…and how to stop it. Sarah Connor had been right. The LAPD had been wrong; the LASD had been wrong, the FBI had been wrong, Dr. Peter Silberman had been wrong…then changed his views, innocent men had died, FBI agents had been killed because no one had heeded the warnings of Sarah Connor. The paranoid schizophrenic that had escaped from a maximum security institute for the criminally insane was, unfortunately, all too sane.
"So…uh, 'Robot,' did you tell us your name?" a gruff looking sergeant named Aaron Ingram said.
"No, I didn't yet. My name is Cheri, Cheri Westin. Also, I'm not a robot; I'm a cybernetic organism."
"Oh," the sergeant nodded, "sorry." He then stuck out his chest and looked sternly at her, "So," he said, "If there are so many bad robots—I mean cyborgs—running around, how do we know you're not one of them and trying to trick us?"
"Because," she replied with a sly look, "If I wanted to kill you, all of you would already be dead by now. But I don't want Judgment Day to come and I believe that you officers can help me…I mean us. This whole war is dismal, which is why I was retiring," she looked down at Tom, "I don't know if I can, though. It seems as though even when I try to avoid this war, it comes back to me."
The officers all seemed to agree with this. Every policeman wakes up and knows the day could turn out unexpectedly, maybe even tragically, but none of them expected to wake up and meet a cyborg from the future and have proof beyond the usual tin foil hat conspiracies!
"Guys," an officer named Bill Chandler got off the hood of his cruiser upon which he had been sitting, "You are taking the word of…of somebody who is probably creating a hoax! I mean, killer cyborgs from the future? A nutcase in the loony bin being the mother of the savior of mankind?" He chuckled, "And you actually believe her? I thought we were cops!"
"We are cops," Ingram replied, "and we have to follow the evidence. The evidence points to a guy with a bunch of bullets lodged in his metal body and a port open in his head! Come on, Bill, you know the saying: Hear it once, it's a hoax, hear it twice, it's a coincidence, hear it three times, better investigate it. I was at the Cyberdyne shootout in ninety-four, and we pumped lead into the guy with the Connors and he barely flinched. We all just told ourselves that he was on crystal meth or PCP and wearing armor like the guys at the North Hollywood shootout...and it was denial in terms of how we explained away his surviving head shots. He had a metal skull that I was trying to convince myself was due to some surgery or something. He gave me this limp," he pointed to his knee, "You all know me; I don't exactly wear a tinfoil hat, but this is what adds up and this is what we have to go on: She's giving us solid proof of what she is and what will be!"
"Sarge," Chandler said, his voice bordering on insubordination, "Even if there is any truth to this, you're siding with someone who claims solidarity with a cop killer! West Highland, Eighty-four? Ring a bell? Then he shows up again at Cyberdyne ten years later with...the people who we're supposed to helping...one another known murderer and terrorist?"
"The one in Nineteen Eighty-four was not the same unit captured, reprogrammed, and assigned to protect John Connor in Nineteen Ninety-four. That one at West Highland was assigned by Skynet to terminate Sarah Connor. They were the same model, the T-800, but different units. John Connor's protector, Cameron, told me that John had ordered her and that one you saw, Sergeant, not to kill anyone," Cheri said.
Ingram looked suspiciously at her.
"It is your choice whether or not you believe me. But lying would be no benefit to myself or the success of Skynet to my knowledge," she said calmly. She knew a good police officer was suspicious by nature, but she was not lying, and that would be evident soon enough. She also knew that Ingram had no choice but to follow her for the time being. "You must trust me for the time being. I will even give you the instructions of how to destroy me if you feel you need such information. But the fact remains that you have seen three cyborgs, possibly more, and that is the point here."
Ingram nodded, then turned back to Chandler, "Also, Bill, what about Sergeant Taylor with the Sheriff's Department? He's half bionic now himself! Remember when both our SWAT units were taking care of that drug bust in East LA last week? A bunch of MS-13 guys had barricaded their front door with just about everything you could imagine, including bits of an armored car they got from a junkyard. Anyway, they went to breech, and Taylor just pulled the door off its hinges and kicked in the barricade. The MS guys didn't put up much of a fight after that."
Cheri looked straight at him, "Do whatever you can to assist John and Sarah Connor, Cameron Phillips, and Derek Reese. Know that they will have to do things that are illegal, but they will be necessary to prevent Judgment Day. Your chances are evened out with enhanced officers and deputies such as Sergeant Taylor. He has already been approached by Resistance fighters and knows about this…"
"Give them a free pass?" the skeptical officer, Bill Chandler, stepped forward again, "Ma'am, this is ridiculous! I mean, the Attorney General may do things that people disagree with, but just because they are paranoid about his plans doesn't give them the right to go and kill anybody they choose. And now you guys are trying to corrupt good officers," he shook his head, "That's it, I'm putting in a call to CHP."
"Like hell you are!" a Lieutenant Howe growled, "She made it perfectly clear that it is not their intention to kill anyone. Now, I'm thinking that, so long as they hold to this and don't go after any cops, we need to trust them."
"Spread this nonsense through our department? Come on, Taylor is already on suspension because he's preaching this bullshit," Chandler said.
"Bullshit?" the officer who had initially approached Cheri, named Sam Taylor (no relation to the Sheriff's deputy about whom they had been speaking), walked over to Chandler, "you have all the proof you need right here! If being a cyborg was a crime, we would have probable cause to arrest her! I don't know about you, but we have four years to prevent a nuclear war…"
"Nuclear war," Chandler rolled his eyes, "You are afraid of the plans for an automated army because you're probably reading too much of that tinfoil hat stuff."
A call came over the radio for all the officers. In Chandler's patrol district, there was a man high on crystal meth who had barricaded himself in his house and taken his ex-girlfriend and her friend hostage. There were already five units in route to the scene and SWAT had been called.
"You need to take that," Howe said, "we'll take this from here."
Defeated, Chandler shot the rest of the cops, and Cheri, an evil look before getting into his cruiser and rushing off to the crisis.
"He's a threat," Cheri said when he left, "He's probably working for Marius."
"Wait…what?" the lieutenant said, "Now that sounds paranoid."
"I would suggest that you conduct surveillance on Officer Chandler," Cheri continued, "I never said anything about Marius creating an automated army, and Marius has not made an announcement in public of his plans. How else would he know unless he had contact with the Attorney General?"
All the police officers thought about this. Chandler had always spoken about the Attorney General with a hint of worshipfulness when, in reality, Marius was not law enforcement friendly. He wanted to get rid of most municipal police departments and make the county sheriff's offices the sole law enforcement agencies in California. He then hoped to bring all county agencies under direct state control (he just did not have the power to do so).
"He barely got through the Academy," Howe remarked, "He had some glaring disqualifiers in the hiring process too; I know, I was his background investigator. I actually failed him…how could I forget that?"
"Marius has been solidifying his position for a long time. He probably has people loyal to him in most major law enforcement agencies throughout the state," Cheri said as she bent down to inspect Tom's open port.
"Yeah, also, I know Sergeant Taylor," Sergeant Ingram added, "He's not the type to go shouting out doomsday prophesies even if he believes them. He wouldn't have done something to get himself suspended unless he felt it would really work in the long run. I think maybe I should give him a call and find out what happened exactly."
"Has anybody checked the house yet?" Cheri asked, a look of concern on her face.
"Yeah, what are we looking for?" Lieutenant Howe asked.
Without a word, Cheri headed up her pathway.
"What are we looking for, Cheri?" he asked again, but Cheri was already inside the house. Quickly, he and a few other officers followed. "Cheri, tell us what's going on, please," he said again.
"I need to see if Cromartie, the one I suspect did this, accessed Dad's CPU," she said, somewhat off into space, "He could have acquired sensitive information that would deal a serious blow to preventing Judgment Day."
"What information?" the lieutenant followed, but was cautious to keep his distance. He was still a bit untrustworthy of the pretty terminator girl.
"If our CPUs are hacked, they can act as an archive of all encounters we have made. If Cromartie hacked the chip, it may lead him to the whereabouts of John Connor." Cheri entered their den and saw the computer on; it had been off before. This did not prove anything, but it was good evidence. "Oh no," she said, a trace of emotion in her voice, "No, this is not good at all. Damn it!" she finally exclaimed.
"What? He did it?" Another officer asked.
Cheri turned on her heels and quickly made her way out of the room.
"Where are you going?"
"I have to go," she said, "There is a seventy-eight point zero one percent chance that Cromartie is in pursuit of the Connors."
"Where are they going?"
"To Sacramento."
"Why?"
Cheri did not answer.
"Why, Cheri?" the officer asked again.
The officers turned and looked at each other, "How are we going to stop him?"
Cheri turned back to them, "If any law enforcement agency attempts to neutralize a T-888 without adequate armament, the chance of another massacre like the one that occurred with the FBI is ninety-six…"
"I don't need the numbers," the lieutenant interrupted.
"Just trust me and do whatever you can to keep any and all civilians and law enforcement agents out of his way. Make sure I am unmolested on the road. I also suggest that, if any marked interceptors are spotted by either Cromartie or the Connors" she looked sternly at the officers, "It would not be good. Stay here, I'll be back."
The officers watched her quickly head back outside to her car.
"Come on, isn't anyone going to stop her?" a young officer said.
"You can go and try to stop her…be my guest," Ingram said, "Anyway, let's see what we can do to help."
