Disclaimer: Once again, just to keep the lawyers at bay. I have no claim or interest in the Terminator movies, characters or franchise. Original characters are mine. Here we go!
The Human Condition-Chapter 4
Its' Not What You Look Like When You're Doing What You're Doing…
Year 2019
Marcus watched as people filed into the bunker. Six hours of rest (for everyone except himself,) had chased away the gray pallor from most of their faces. The roster was purposely top heavy with the tech and computer savvy. Their skills would play a big part in things to come. In another reality, Marcus reflected, a lot of these people would have been locked away in a glittering office complex churning out code for some Fortune 500 company or chained to a customer service desk at an electronics superstore, helping clueless suburbanites figure out how they'd screwed up their latest toy. In this one they were blooded warriors. Geeks didn't exist in Skynet's brave new world.
John and Kate Connor arrived. Might as well pop this cherry, Wright figured. "Looks like everybody's here that needs to be" he began. "Let's get started. We're going to need-"
An acid tinged voice interrupted. "Why should we listen to anything you got to say, machine, let alone follow any twisted ideas that come slithering out of that metal brain box of yours. I want a human running this show."
A low rumble swept the room in response to the comment. Some heads nodded in agreement. Others frowned in the speaker's direction.
Connor's eyes narrowed as he started up from his seat. Marcus's minute head shake forestalled him. John sat back waiting to see how the other man would deal with the situation.
Peterson's doing, Marcus wondered, or merely more of the same sentiment from another quarter? No matter, this was his to handle. He'd brooked no dissent from the ranks in his outlaw days, and he wasn't having any of it now. He waded thru the assembled group until he was face to face with the comment's originator, a man named Josh Madden. Dispensing with preliminaries, he reached down, grabbed a handful of Madden's crotch, turned around and started back to the front of the room. With his cojones hostage to Marcus Wright's vice grip, Madden had no choice but to follow.
On reaching the door become conference table, Marcus released the unfortunate man into the dubious sanctuary of the old office chair. Madden immediately curled into a ball, attempting to cradle his abused scrotum, but Marcus wasn't finished. Raising one leg, he placed his boot at the base of Josh Madden's throat. Pushing, he tipped the chair back on to its' rear legs until it was finally stopped by a support wall and rested his crossed forearms on his upraised knee. He leaned in, putting a slight pressure on Madden's neck and fixed the man with his cerulean orbs.
"You will listen" he said pleasantly. "You will listen, and you will do what I say. You will do what I say to do, when I say to do it, the way I say to do it, because we don't have time for anything else. You screw this up, and I'll rip out your boys and wear them like a merit badge." He smiled to punctuate his statement, and straightened, placing both feet back on the floor.
Madden flopped forward, mewling in pain, cupping his battered testes.
Marcus turned. "Any questions?" He asked pleasantly, still smiling. The silence was deafening. "No? Good, then let's continue."
John Connor watched the entire incident unfold, a faint glimmer of amusement in his hooded eyes. This was a side to Marcus he'd not yet seen. The man had an unorthodox management style, certainly. Connor filed it away for future reference.
"Now, where we?" Wright queried unnecessarily. He knew exactly where he'd left off. "Yeah, right. We're going to need two teams. Team one will have most of the techs. It'll be your job to crack the vault, do the snatch and then blow the place. You'll need to do enough damage so that Skynet won't be able to tell what's missing for a while if ever."
"How are we supposed to do that?" The question came from Rick Donnelly, one of John Connor's best computer experts. One hand strayed protectively in the direction of his groin until he self-consciously snatched it back. "Seeing as how Skynet's got those chips locked up tighter than a virgin's-" Donnelly hesitated, trailing off without completing the sentence.
Instead of answering the question directly, Marcus countered with a question of his own. "We know that I can take information out of Skynet's systems. Can I put anything in?"
Donnelly was nonplussed. "What do you mean? Like programming?" he asked.
"You want to communicate with it?" Connor broke in. "Why? What would you want to say?"
"Oh" Marcus told him, "something along the lines of 'I've been a bad machine. I don't like it out here with the people. They treat me like freeze dried dog puke. Please take me back and spank me."
"Skynet ain't gonna go for that" Barnes scoffed. "It ain't stupid."
"No, it's not" Wright agreed. "And I don't expect it to believe I've come crawling back looking for a second chance. Especially" he added, remembering his pithy exchange of words with the image of Serena Kogan, "since I was told in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't get one."
"Then why-" Barnes started.
Marcus didn't let him finish. "I don't think it's a stretch to say Skynet's probably fairly pissed at me. And curious to find out just how I slipped the leash. That control chip was supposed to be an unbreakable lock with Skynet holding the only key. Didn't work out that way, did it?"
"No, it didn't" Barnes shot back. "And a lot of us are still wondering why."
Marcus shrugged briefly . "According to the Texas DOC shrinks, I have… control issues. Skynet played me. I didn't like it."
Marcus wondered briefly, was John Connor letting his second take point all of a sudden. He decided to worry about it some other time.
"In any case, I gotta figure Skynet's got a dissection table somewhere in one of its labs with my name on it. It wants to strap me down, break out the band saw and take a good look at what's going on." He tapped his forehead.
"You think Skynet's after your brain?" John posited.
"It is only one of the two factory original parts that didn't get replaced" Marcus pointed out. "And the other one is…unavailable." His reference was transparent. "The way I see it, and I don't think my ego's getting in the way, Skynet would love to make more of me, with human brains and T-800 chassis. But, as was, um, pointed out earlier, first it needs to figure out where I went off the rails. And to do that, it needs a long look at my gray matter. If we give it a good chance at making that happen, I think it'll distract Skynet enough to draw attention and a good portion of onsite security away from that vault. Then, all of you who know a whole lot more about computer systems than I do get to do your thing."
"Are you sure your high opinion of yourself isn't at work here?" Kate Connor interjected, speaking for the first time.
Marcus forced himself not to react to Kate's tone. Beside him, he felt Blair Williams stiffen. He put one hand in the small of Blair's back.
"You honestly think your mere presence is enough to make Skynet drop everything and come running after you? It's just going to forget everything else and chase you like a scorned woman? You really believe that?"
One corner of Marcus's mouth tilted upward slightly. Was Kate trying to bait him? She couldn't actually think it would be that easy. He'd outgrown playground insults long ago. Still, he sighed within, it was kind of a shame Kate didn't have some medical duties to take care of somewhere right about now. He didn't dislike her, truly he didn't, but they had a tendency to rub one another the wrong way.
"Back before I became the, uh, pillar of the community that I am now" he quipped sarcastically, "we robbed three banks in one day" meaning he and his old crew. "And we pulled it off because most of the cops were busy somewhere else."
Billy Soames sat up, snapping his fingers. His feet hit the floor with a thump. "The Highland Park Diamond Exchange! Nelson Lee did that job. He was one of your crew up to that point. They had a good portion of the cops in Dallas on 'em by time it was over." Soames gave Marcus a look of shocked realization. "You went after the banks on the same day. You give Nelson to the cops."
"No" Marcus denied sadly, shaking his head, recalling Nelson's ultimate fate. "They already had him. They'd flipped him months before. I knew about it almost as soon as it happened because I had a few sources of my own. I made it work for me, that's all." He looked at Kate.
"Skynet will give chase. My very justifiable sense of my own wonderfulness aside" he cracked "it won't be after just me. Granted, I am the most beautiful man that most of you will ever see" he continued, voice dry as the Mohave, "but hopefully we can make the target a little more irresistible than that."
Near the back of the room, he heard a snigger. Kyle Reese. Things were a little awkward between them for the moment. Kyle had been upset upon finding out he was to be relegated to communication duty for this mission. John Connor made the decision, afraid to risk his once and future father's life on such a big gamble. Kyle did not know who to blame, so he blamed everyone. At least, Marcus thought, the kid didn't completely hate his guts.
"How, exactly?" John Connor put in, taking the reins once more.
Back from your little vacation, I see, Marcus thought. Aloud he asked, "Other than obliterating every human on the planet, what does Skynet want more than anything else? What gives it hot, wet robot dreams?"
"The thought of me, dead" Connor answered instantly.
"Exactly" Marcus smiled slightly.
Uh-oh, Bill Soames thought. I know that smile.
Predictably, Kate reacted first. "Are you suggesting we use John as bait!" she screeched stridently, advancing on him.
"Why, yes Kate, that's precisely what I'm suggesting" Wright replied.
The room erupted.
Year 1990
Marcus was cold. His teeth chattered so violently in his mouth he feared they might shatter. He felt lightheaded, empty, hollow. The small portion of his mind that retained sanity wondered abstractly that he did not hover like a ghost in the chill air of the holding cell. His head rested against the gray painted cinderblock wall, red rimmed eyes staring into nothing.
The shadows caused by the light pouring in thru the narrow window of the cell lengthened and then disappeared as day wore into afternoon, and afternoon into night. Had he been in any condition to care, he would have realized he had no idea of how much time had passed. Marcus didn't see his surroundings though. He did not register the hardness of the wooden bench that served as his only seating. He was mind numb. The hellish vision of Carl Soames broken and bleeding on the floor cemented inside his skull, wrapping itself around his young brain and refusing to be banished.
Was Carl dead? Was he alive? Marcus did not know, and no one would tell him. There was no communication with him at all. Several hours after his arrival in this place, a slot opened in the cell's steel door, and a tray containing a sandwich and milk appeared. Left completely untouched, it was removed shortly after. More time passed, and the action was repeated. Another sandwich and more milk were offered and again ignored. He did not want food. He only wanted to know about Carl. Did the man who'd taken him and Sam in, given them a home, shown them how a real man cared for his family still live? Or was Valerie, who'd only shown him love, taken all of his ill treatment of her in stride and returned his thievery and foul-mouthed disrespect with tolerance and support, now a widow? Had his and Sam's presence in the Soames house drawn Dylan Taylor to Carl and Val like the shadow of death? He did not know. Why wouldn't they talk to him? Why wouldn't they tell him anything?
Periodically, he could hear footsteps echoing on the concrete as they passed in the corridor, doors opening, and then slamming shut, muffled conversations. But no one would come and tell him the one thing he so desperately needed to know. Why not? Did they feel he had no right to the knowledge? Did they believe Carl's blood was on his hands? What did Val think? Did she believe he had done this thing to her husband? What about Billy and Sam? Did they all hate him? Never want to see him again? Would he go the rest of his life without being able to tell them the truth? And what about Dylan? Was the monster of Marcus's childhood going to get away with murder all over again? What about Sam? Would Dylan remain free to return and claim Sam as his final victim? Wrung out and used up like soiled cloth, Marcus lacked even the energy to move from the spot he'd been deposited in that morning. He was in the agonizing hell of questions without answers, and there seemed to be no end to it. He only wanted it to be over. At least he would know. He only wanted it to be over.
Unexpectedly, the door clanked open. A burly guard motioned him out into the corridor, indicating he should extend his wrists to be cuffed. What was going on? Where was he being taken? He tried to turn around and ask, but the guard roughly put a stop to that.
"Eyes front and keep moving" the man remarked gruffly.
They walked down the row of holding cells, their footsteps ringing off the walls. The hush of the place made the time feel very late at night or very early in the morning. Ahead, the double layer of doors separating the detention area from the rest of the facility trundled open. Led thru them, Marcus saw the area where he'd been processed in. At the time, in a state of shock, not much had registered. Now he saw desks manned by uniformed deputies and sections set aside where the recently arrested were fingerprinted, photographed and turned into numbers and forms. A group of the unfortunate slumped nearby, shackled to chairs bolted to the floor.
"Please, what-?" he tried again. Before he got any further he was enveloped in a fiercely protective hug.
"Oh, Marcus! Are you ok? Are you alright? What did they do to you? " It was Val. She pivoted to snap at the guard. "You get these things off of him right now!" she barked indignantly. "He should have never been arrested in the first place. You get these off right now!"
Used to dealing with emotionally supercharged people, the guard did not react. Marcus's wrists were soon freed for the first time in hours. He wrapped his arms around Valerie, returning her hug, so weak with relief he would have fallen to the floor had she not been holding on to him.
"I didn't do it Val! I swear I didn't shoot Carl! It was Dylan! I swear! I swear! It wasn't me! I didn't do this to him! I swear!" Marcus babbled in a rush, desperate for her to believe him.
"Oh, honey, I know you didn't! I know it was Dylan! So, do the police, now! They're looking for him! I know you wouldn't hurt Carl! I know you didn't do this! Come on, let's get you out of here!"
Those words were as welcomed to him now as they would be the night Blair Williams helped him avoid certain death courtesy of the resistance years later.
"We're ready to go now" she said firmly to a Brownsville police officer standing behind them.
The officer was Chief Martin Suggs deputy, Rudy Chambers. Nodding once, Chambers gestured towards the nearest exit. He followed behind Valerie and Marcus, eager to complete his escort chores as quickly as possible. Rudy had been present earlier when this woman and her lawyer arrived in Martin Suggs office. Her command of the English language as she'd torn his boss a new one made quite the impression on everyone in earshot, himself included. Chambers was a tough cop. He'd seen it all in fifteen years on the force, and he'd determined then and there that he never wanted to get on Valerie Soames bad side. Thankfully, his responsibility for her welfare and that of her children would be his only until they reached the hospital. Then he could hand her off to others assigned to the protective detail.
"Val" Marcus began fearfully, "is Carl dead?"
"No, honey" she smiled gently thru unshed tears. "He's going to be ok. Neither the gunshot or the head trauma was as bad as they first thought. It's serious, but he's going to be fine. That's why it took me so long to get here. I had to be with him until I knew he was going to be okay, and then, I had to calm your brothers down, make sure they were alright and safe. Marcus, I'm so sorry it took me this long to get here!" Val's voice was thick with emotion.
Marcus was so relived at the news that he barely felt the cool air of the pre-dawn morning as they exited the building. It was not until they were at the hospital that all of her earlier words filtered thru his mind.
"Your brothers" she'd said. Brothers, not brother. Her statement included Sam and Billy J. Both, not just one. Was it an accident, a slip of the tongue? He was so drained from the events of the past few hours he could not tell, and he was afraid to ask.
They reached the ICU, where Carl was being care for. Sam and Billy were sound asleep in the waiting room, under the watchful eye of an armed Brownsville patrolman. Chief Suggs, chastened by both his mistaken rush to judgment regarding Marcus and Val's very effective tongue lashing, had taken steps. Until Dylan Taylor was deemed no longer a threat, Carl, Val and the boys would receive lots of extra attention from his department. An officer guarded Carl's room twenty four hours a day and the Soames's would have cops watching the house day and night for the foreseeable future.
With Carl's doctor and nurses strict warning not to disturb their sleeping patient firmly in mind, Val and the kids took a quick look in on Carl. Then she took her family home. What a weekend they'd all had.
Eight hours later, after sleep, baths and breakfast, they were all back. Carl was awake and allowed visitors, providing his company didn't overstay their welcome. Since only two at a time were permitted in his small, equipment filled room, Val and Billy J, by unanimous vote, went first. Marcus and Sam waited along with their uniformed watcher. Bored, anxious to see Carl, Sam leafed thru magazines while Marcus flipped listlessly thru the channels on the waiting room television. Wonder who the J.V. quarterback will be? he thought idly. Won't be me, that's for sure, not anymore. After a while, he wasn't sure how long, Sam was replaced by Billy J on the sofa beside him. Then it was his turn.
Walking the long hallway to Carl's room, Marcus's footsteps began to falter. The closer he got, the more reluctant he was to face Carl. Ahead of him, Valerie finally noticed his lagging behind. She came back to where he was.
"Marcus, what is it? What's wrong?" Val's confusion was evident.
"It's my fault" he confessed shamefully. "It's my fault Carl got hurt Val. Dylan, he came to the house looking for me and Sam. It's my fault." Marcus felt responsible, as if he'd fired the shot himself.
"Nonsense! Of course it's not!" She grasped his chin in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eye. "You are not responsible for this! Understand me! This isn't your fault, Marcus! None of this is your fault or Sam's! Dylan Taylor is the only one responsible for what happened to Carl! You get that thru your head, alright? This isn't your fault! Now, let's go see your dad. Then we can all go grab something to eat! I gotta find someplace that'll be able to fill the three of you up and that ain't gonna be easy!" she joked.
There it was again, Marcus realized with a start. She'd said it again. The words chase one another around in his head. Your dad, your dad, your dad. No slip of the tongue this time. They were both wide awake and rested. She meant to say them. But what did they mean for him and Sam? Before he could pluck up the courage to ask, they were at Carl's door.
Still holding himself at least partially to blame for Carl's condition, the butterflies in Marcus's stomach fluttered madly as he entered. A brief but intense visit with Carl made him feel a lot better. He began to relax and breath normally again for the first time almost two days.
After the visit, Val and Marcus headed back to the waiting room to collect Billy J, Sam and their police escort. Valerie was running the list of nearby restaurants thru her head. She'd need one that could satisfy the appetites of three growing males. They better have a lot of food on hand, she thought, 'cause here we come.
Marcus pushed open the glass door of the waiting room to see that Sam, Billy and the cop guarding them were not alone. A severe faced woman and a man dressed in an ill fitting suit stood nearby. He didn't know why, but their presence made him uneasy.
"Valerie Soames?" the woman addressed Val.
"Yes" Val confirmed.
"My name is Emily Trask. This is my co-worker Al Miller. We're from DFPS, the Texas Department of Social Services. We've come to take Marcus and Sam Wright with us. They're being removed from your care."
Year 2019
Hands clasped behind his head, crossed legs propped up on the old office door, Marcus calmly waited, letting the storm his words produced blow itself out. He gave a sideways glance at John Connor. For someone who'd just been proposed as a sacrificial lamb, the General was remarkably unperturbed.
"That's enough!" Connor's raised voice capped the furor. His commanding glare finished off soto-voiced muttering along the fringes of the assembled personnel. He faced Wright.
"I'm assuming you're about to explain yourself" John said, still unconcerned.
"If we're going to blind Skynet to that vault" Marcus said, "we have to dazzle it. We have to give it something it won't be able to resist making a grab for. You and I" he told John Connor, "are very high on the hit parade, but you're number one with a bullet, literally, and you always will be. Hopefully, the combined prospect of being able to get its' hands on me and take you out at the same time will get it so worked up, it'll…reshuffle its' priorities. It almost worked once, too well. You've been fighting the thing a lot longer that I have, but Skynet strikes me as a …creature of habit. I think it likes sticking with what works. If anybody's got a better idea, trot it out. I'm all ears."
Kate Connor was still agitated. "John, you cannot seriously be considering letting yourself be dangled in front of Skynet like a fat worm on a hook!" Hitting the upper registers on the word "hook", Kate pinned Marcus with ice blue fire. If looks killed, he'd have melted on the spot, hyper-alloy skeleton or no. He figured he'd better finish outlining his plan before she came at him a scalpel.
"Relax, Kate" he soothed. "He won't be dangling anything. He won't be there."
Conner broke in "But you just-"
"I know" Marcus stopped him. "But you can't be there. You can't go. You know that. Skynet gets you, even by accident, the rest of us might as well bend over. You can't go."
"But you said-" John started again.
"I know what I said" Marcus didn't let him finish again. "Now let me give you the rest of it." He did, laying out the remainder of what he'd come up with.
The longer the other man talked, the more John Connor came to understand how Wright had acquired the sobriquet "Mad Marcus."
Year 1990
"You can't just show up and take my sons, lady!" Carl Soames was livid. Still hospitalized, his condition had been upgraded to stable and he was now in a regular patient room. Ten days after he'd been brought here by ambulance, he was up and moving around under the eagle eyed surveillance of his wife and nurses. His progression towards a complete recovery had been steady, up until now.
"Mr. Soames" Emily Trask returned stiffly, "They are not your sons. Marcus and Sam Wright were and are wards of the state. They were temporarily place with you and your wife. Their father is a dangerous fugitive and he's at large. It has been determined that the boy's removal from your home is in the best interest of both them and your family."
"Marcus and Sam are our family, Ms. Trask" Val informed her, fighting the urge to throttle the woman. "My husband and I have made plans to formally adopt them, both of them. And our other son, Billy is very enthusiastic about it. You can't just take them away with some arbitrary wave of the state's hand!"
"Mrs. Soames, I assure you, the decision was hardly arbitrary. Nor was it arrived at lightly. All the factors have been carefully considered_"
"How carefully could any of this have been considered!" Carl shouted. "You show up less than forty-eight hours after I was shot and whisk my children away without giving us a chance to stop you! Careful consideration my-"
"The fact remains, Mr. and Mrs. Soames" Trask coolly stated "the finding is final, and the boys will not be returned to you." Valerie and Carl Soames could rail all they liked, she sniffed. Emily Trask had the State of Texas and its' bureaucracy backing her up.
"Oh no it isn't!" Carl shouted. "My wife and I know our rights as foster parents! We have every intention of fighting to get our kids back! And we have the resources to do it! You're not getting away with this!" Carl nearly rose, but saw the panicked cast of Val's face at his purpled visage, and settled for pounding the arm of the chair for added emphasis.
Trask was finished with the Soames's. She had her job to do, and a heavy duty caseload to oversee. There was no more time for these people who refused to listen to reason.
"Mr. Soames, the State of Texas is more than capable of meeting any legal challenge you might have. This decision is irreversible and the case is closed. I advise you to move on. Any attempt to get the Wright boys returned to you will be unsuccessful. Now, I have other cases to attend to, so, you'll excuse me-"
"You're not just going to rip my family apart and walk out of here!" This time Carl did get up, block Emily Trask's clear path to the door.
She attempted to go around him, but he refused to let her leave. This was NOT over.
"Marcus and Sam are just as much my children as Billy. I…want…my…sons…back…lady!" A loud buzzing started in his ears, threatening to distract him. His vision took on a gray haze.
"Well, that's too bad" Trask said, abandoning her professional detachment briefly. "Cause it ain't gonna happen, pal" she sneered, moving around Carl to go.
He tried to reach for her, but discovered his limbs no longer responding to his command. Suddenly too weak to stand, he looked, disoriented, to Valerie. The buzzing grew louder, filling his hearing. The room tilted. He heard Val's shouts of alarm.
"Carl! Help! Someone help!"
Then the blackness came.
"I don't know little bro" Marcus said, turning Sam's head gingerly to get a better look. "That's looks pretty bad." Sam's eye was a rainbow of angry black, brown and dark purplish red. Marcus seethed. Those little pricks.
"Yeah?" Sam answered gamely, "you should see them. They won't be trying that again, whether you're around or not."
"I'll bet" Marcus told his brother encouragingly. "You taught 'em what it means to mess with the best, huh?"
"I sure did. I ain't worried" was Sam's answer.
The ones who did this better be, though, Marcus vowed silently. After being taken away from Carl and Valerie without even being given the chance to pack, Marcus and Sam were dumped in the Peebles Children's Home. Ostensibly an orphanage, wire mesh on the windows and armed security at the gates made the place more closely resemble the jail Val had rescued him from.
Many of the home's young residents boasted more than a passing acquaintance with the legal system, so the daily routine was strictly regimented. Independent thought and action was strongly discouraged. Get out of line and get yanked back in, the Wright boys soon learned.
Some of their more belligerent new housemates figured the brother's as easy shakedown material and so tried to do that thing. Marcus, never one to beat around the bush, simply skipped all the pre-fight trash talk and got right to business, bloodying the nose of the biggest mouth in the bunch. That settled the immediate problem but created another. The embarrassed bullies bided their time, waiting for Marcus and Sam to be separated by circumstances. That chance came when Marcus, reverting to his former ways, got into trouble in class. Marcus's two days in detention left Sam vulnerable.
Now Marcus surveyed his brother's face. Tommy Lawrence and Jason Monroe should be very worried. He'd be seeing them soon. They wouldn't see him until it was too late.
This place is a garbage dump, Marcus snorted spitting in the grass as he and Sam walked back to their dorm. Somewhere they can throw away kids nobody wants. Trouble was, somebody did want him and Sam. Carl and Val and Billy J did. Valerie visited, letting them know she and Carl intended to fight to get them back and that they would not rest until Marcus and Sam were back at home where they belonged. They'd hired the best family law attorney in the business, Val told him and Sam. You'll be coming home soon, hang in there, she promised. We will Val, he sighed, but hurry, please.
"Marcus, Sam" they heard their names called as soon as they walked thru the entrance to their building. Marcus turned to see Mr. Craig, the administrator. Now what?
"Come with me to my office, please" Craig requested. Without waiting to see if the boys complied, he started for his cramped, outdated office space. The Wright brothers followed. How much worse could it get?
They had a surprise visitor waiting. It was Valerie, but she and Billy J were only allowed to visit twice a week and this wasn't either one of those days. Why was she here?
One look at her face told Marcus she had bad news. Very, very bad news.
Some weeks later, Marcus and Sam hid in a copse of trees across the street from Carl and Val's. They watched as Val parked, got out and took a brown grocery bag from the backseat. Billy helped his mother by taking the bag from her so she could look for her house key. She looked tired, Marcus considered. The setback of Carl's heart attack on top of everything else and long nights at the hospital were taking their toll. Worrying over him and Sam probably wasn't doing her any good either. After they got settled somewhere, they'd have to call and let her know they were ok.
He and Sam had split from the Peebles Home not too long after her last visit. They didn't blame her for the delay in the legal wrangling, but things got worse by the day there. Marcus did not have worries for himself, but he wanted his little brother out of that place. And there was always Dylan to worry about. The longer they stayed in the children's home, the more worried Marcus was that their father would find them.
Seeing their former foster mother and brother go into the house, both wanted to go inside too, but knew they couldn't. Chief Suggs still had a patrol car stationed outside. Now officially classed as runaways, he and Sam couldn't let the cops see them.
"We can't ever go back there, can we?" Sam asked sadly.
"It's too dangerous for Carl and Val and Billy, little bro. Dylan would just show up looking for us again. 'Sides, CPS ain't gonna let us stay, you know that" Marcus responded bitterly.
"Yeah, I know" Sam was dejected. "It, it's just…" he trailed off, kicking the dirt with his sneaker.
"Yep, sucks don't it?" Marcus agreed. "Come on, bro. Gotta get us some funds together. We got tracks to make." He saw his brother's bleak face. "Hey, don't worry, okay. You know I'll take care of you, right?" he prompted, clasping one hand around the back of Sam's neck.
"Yes, I know" Sam told him. "But Marcus, who's gonna take care of you?" Sam asked back, concerned.
Marcus flashed a cocky grin. "I take care of me, Sammy. Don't you know that? Always have, always will. Let's get a move on." He threw one last look back over his shoulder at his former home, careful not to let Sam see the naked longing in his face, then led his brother away.
Year 2019
"Okay" Marcus finished. "Now comes the fun part. You all get to sit down and pick it apart. Tell me what's wrong with it. Don't be shy. You got a problem with anything you just heard, now's the time to say so." He settled back with a daring look on his face.
"I have a problem" Kate piped up again. "You'll be leading team two, right?" she queried Marcus.
"Actually, Colonel Peterson's heading team two" Connor supplied for him.
"But this is Marcus's idea, so team two's really following his lead, correct?" she bore in, not letting up. Connor's wife fairly vibrated with hostility.
Whatever's biting you, Red, Marcus considered, it's not exactly the best time for it to rear up.
"Yes, that's right" Marcus told her and the rest of the room. He didn't need John Connor or anyone else to fight his battles for him.
"What's your point, Kate?" John prodded.
"My point is this" Kate continued. "This will be the most…intimate contact Marcus has had with Skynet since severing the link by destroying the control chip."
"Yes, and?" Connor pushed his wife to proceed.
"So, how do we know Skynet hasn't been waiting for an opportunity just like this one? If it really does have ambitions of creating more Marcus Wright's, we're practically gift wrapping its' chance. We think Marcus has no direct means of communicating with or being controlled by Skynet, but what if we missed something? And what if this kind of proximity gives Skynet the chance to activate what we missed? If the wrong switch is hit, or Skynet can somehow find a way to infect him, this whole venture could go downhill fast. And we might not even know it until it's too late. We might think we've won, gotten exactly what we're after. And then after Marcus is back here, Skynet could be controlling him all over again, getting him to do what he was created for in the first place. Kill you. After all, we wouldn't be expecting it. We'd trust him."
Blair jumped up. "Now you hold on a minute Kate! Why is it necessary to remind you that not only was it Marcus who severed that 'link' you're making so much of by tearing it out of his head with his own hands, but he's more than proven his loyalty to the resistance. How many of you in this room are alive because he took fire that would have killed you? Huh? How many of you have him to thank for still being here because he fought off a Terminator or an H-K? How many of you" she hissed hotly at Kate, "are walking around with his heart in your chest?"
"Williams, stop!" John Connor's voice cracked like a whip.
Marcus stood. He wouldn't see Blair punished for speaking her mind, especially when she was coming to his defense. Not even by John Connor. He stepped up to her side, prepared to take on Connor if he had to. He didn't.
"Kate" John said to his wife, "You've examined Marcus a number of times. Extensively, head to toe. Microscans, MRI's, Xray's , blood tests, the works. You've even detached sections of his endoskeleton for testing purposes. You've had an entire medical and scientific team check him out in every way possible. His computer has undergone the same scrutiny. Have you found anything, anything at all, that would suggest what you just proposed could happen?"
Colonel Jacob Peterson observed the exchange with satisfaction. It looked like John Connor's wife didn't like or trust the machine anymore than he did. She could be a powerful ally. A very powerful ally.
Connor's question hung in the air, the lengthening silence becoming uncomfortable. Kate squirmed.
"No" she finally admitted reluctantly. "We've found nothing. His connection to Skynet is completely gone and I, I can't say the possibility is strong that one could be reestablished, but it's there John, I stand by that" Kate finished.
"Then this mission is a go" John declared. "Let's finalize and get prepared to move."
The fine tuning took another hour or so, with Connor occasionally offering a suggestion of his own. At last, though, no more tweaking was needed.
"Alright, everyone. Wheels up in two hours. Get your gear together" John dismissed the group.
Marcus braced Kate as she was on her way out. They needed to clear the air. He sensed Blair behind him.
"What was that about? " he asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "Marcus the machine, deadly saboteur and assassin? I thought we were past all of that."
Kate sighed wearily. "Men" she said to Blair. "Can't live with 'em, can't spend all your time explaining things to them."
Blair grinned.
"Peterson isn't finished" the auburn haired doctor explained patiently, "no matter what John says. He's going to try something else. We need to be ready for it. Now he thinks I'm on his side. Maybe if he does try something, he'll try to bring me in on it and give us a chance to head it off. By the way" she said to Blair, "you were perfect."
Williams took a bow.
Marcus looked back and forth between the two insufferably smug women for a moment.
"You're very good" he told Kate grudgingly. "And you're in over your head" he said to Connor.
"I've known that for a while" John replied ruefully.
Wearing a Mona Lisa smile, Kate Connor sashayed away to the medical tent.
In the bustle of final prep for the robbery/raid, Kate spun about, making sure her medical team would have everything they might possibly need. With their infant son to think of, her feet were as nailed to the base as John's. She meant to make sure her deploying medics could do their jobs. Head down, attention on her inventory list, she was bound to run into something.
"Oompf! Oh, sorry Blair, I didn't see you" she apologized. Something in William's demeanor kept her from moving on. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Tightlipped, the beautiful mahogany haired Blair shook her head and made to walk around Kate.
"Oh, no you don't. Come on, Blair" Kate urged, "What is it? Talk to me!"
Blair surprised her by fighting back tears. Suddenly Kate knew what the problem was.
"He told you, didn't he? Before he told the rest of us? Marcus. He told he planned to use himself as bait for Skynet, didn't he. He told you what he had planned." From Blair's reaction Kate knew she was on the money.
Williams nodded. "Yeah" she admitted shakily. "Most of it anyway. He laid it all out for me when we were alone. Except for that last part. My favorite part." She heaved a frustrated sigh.
"Kate, you should have seen him. He's so….energized by this! I think that he feels like it will give him a chance to really prove he's part of the resistance. He needs that. And he needs for you to all stop looking at him like he's some kind of learning challenged T-800. He feels this can make that happen. As worried as I am for him, I won't mess with his head by playing the moody girlfriend."
"Blair, Marcus started out with a huge handicap, hear me out, okay? " Kate said, quelling Blair's instinctive defensive reaction. "I do trust him, so does John, but a lot people still don't. I agree that's not deserved, but there it is. If he's going to be part of the resistance, then he should contribute whenever and wherever he can like everyone else"
"I know that Kate" Blair said resignedly, "but I don't have to like it" she said, leaving to do her flight prep. The strike teams would need a ride to their objective.
The whine of the rotors and the extensive flight preparations helped keep Blair Williams mind off the worst of her fears. She looked back over her shoulder at the assembling members of team two. How many of them would not be returning alive? Which ones would never see those they loved again? And would one of them be Marcus? The sight of Jake Peterson chilled her, but seeing Billy Soames seated across from the Colonel made her feel slightly better.
Blair longed to be in the cockpit of her A-10, bringing the fight to Skynet at the ends of her guns or the punishing force of a fired missile. Someone else would have that job this time. One of the resistance's most skilled pilots she and the other helo drivers would need to use all of their considerable skills to get the teams past Skynet's defenses.
Marcus climbed into the cockpit behind her. One advantage to being one of the helicopter pilots was that it gave her a chance to be with him before everything jumped off. Placing a hand on her shoulder he motioned with his head for her to step outside.
They were standing in the 'copter's blind spot, affording them a measure of privacy. He pulled her close, stroking her hair.
"Don't be so worried. I have done this before you know" he teased gently.
"Yes, I know" Blair fired back. "But correct me if I'm wrong. This is first time you've pulled a heist on a killer supercomputer with a personal hard-on for you, right?"
"True, but I think I've got a few tricks it hasn't seen before." He smirked immodestly.
Blair rolled her eyes, longsuffering. Marcus kissed her passionately, burying his face in her wealth of dark tresses.
She struggled fiercely not to cry. She won the fight. "You get yourself killed and I'm gonna be seriously pissed" she warned.
"Duly noted" he answered, still holding her close. "You come back to me baby. I don't even want to think of having to live without you."
They broke the embrace, Blair resuming her place in the cockpit and Marcus going to join his team.
"Okay, boy and girls" Marcus yelled to be heard over the sounds of take off. "Let's go make a withdrawal!"
Author's note: Ok, the big caper is underway! That last remark of Marcus's was borrowed from John Dillinger, but if bank robbers had a patron saint it would probably be old J. D. so I don't think he'd mind. As before, constructive reviews are welcome, even requested.