CHAPTER 13
The room was extremely cold and the combination of the high intensity lighting and the polished stainless steel walls made the illumination nearly blinding. The large chamber was virtually empty, save for a massive screen built into the wall at the front section of the room. Displayed on the screen was a black background with unrecognizable images that quickly flashed across it. A random mathematical formula would also form on the display every so often.
Charles Fischer slowly exhaled. He noticed that the air around him was so cold that he was actually able to see his breath. He walked forward until he reached the center of the room. He then stopped and waited silently staring at the large screen in front of him. Except for the quiet drone of air conditioning fans the room was eerily silent. Fischer took another breath and waited.
"SPEAK…" A deep, booming voice suddenly burst forth from all around him, momentarily startling Fischer. He hesitated for a brief second, swallowing before he spoke.
"Your plan is proceeding well. John Connor's resolve appears to be weakening." There was silence once again as an image of John Connor was produced on the display in front of Fischer. Once again the voice emerged.
"HOW LONG?" it asked.
"Not long..." Fischer responded, "…his attachment to the cyborg seems to be…" Fischer paused momentarily, searching for the correct word to say, "…extreme. It is his greatest weakness." Fischer then thought briefly before continuing,
"I believe he will make a considerable amount of sacrifices in order to be with it again." The response was almost instant.
"FOOLISH…" The voice echoed as different images of Terminator endoskeletons and what appeared to be their blueprints began to flash across the screen.
"I agree…" Fischer added, "…but I believe we can use this to control him, to channel his anger towards those who he believes have taken it from him." The room fell still once again as Fischer paused to take a breath,
"Ultimately…his feelings for it will be his undoing…"
"AGREED…" The dark and ominous voice stated in response as one particular image of an endoskeleton's schematic suddenly burst onto the screen. Fischer studied the image of the small framed Terminator which was now being displayed before him.
"PROCEED WITH THE PLAN…" The voice ordered and Fischer nodded his head in response,
"As you wish…"
.
.
.
The bright dot from the penlight momentarily shown in Savannah Weaver's right eye and then was quickly moved away by the individual who was holding it. A brief second later it flashed back in Savannah's eye and her pupil constricted slightly, displaying more of her icy green cornea.
"Yeah, you've definitely got a concussion." Lauren Fields said as she slid her penlight back into her shirt's breast pocket. Savannah nodded her head in response as she sat patiently inside of the makeshift medical bay. In actuality it was just an oversized office room with a few tables. Several cabinets filled with medical supplies were spread around the room that had once been the office of an emergency communications supervisor. Martin Bedell's base of operations was located inside of what had once been a Sheriff's Department headquarters. The underground network of tunnels that ran from the jail, to the court house, and along to several other government buildings before working their way back to the Sheriff's Office made it the perfect location for a resistance faction's base.
"You can get dressed now." Lauren stated as she moved over to one of the empty tables and began to jot down a few notes onto the paper inside the folder lying on the table. Savannah gracefully slid off the table. The movement of her body caused the cold steel key and chain that she wore around her neck to rub against the bare skin of her chest. It sent a small shiver up Savannah's spine. She retrieved her pants, shirt, and jacket from a nearby chair and began to dress.
"Captain Livie asked to see you once we were done." Lauren spoke as she picked up her folder and the paperwork that she had just completed. Savannah nodded her head and pulled her shirt on over her head.
"You can send him in." Savannah stated flatly. Lauren hesitated for a moment after Savannah spoke. She then flicked the bangs of her short brown hair out of her eyes,
"I'm glad you made it back Savannah. We were all worried about you." Savannah responded with a half hearted smile, more for Lauren's benefit than for her own.
"Thanks…" she replied, "…just wish I could have brought him back with me." Lauren turned her green eyes towards the ground.
"I know…" She responded, "If you need to talk about it, I'm here." Savannah again nodded her head. She gave Lauren another false smile before Lauren turned away and walked out of the room.
.
.
.
There was a light knocking at the door and a few seconds later it opened.
"Ms. Weaver?" The voice of a male could be heard, as an individual in his mid 30's, with brown hair, and brown eyes, wearing digital desert camouflage fatigues stepped into the room. Captain's bars were clearly visible on the man's collar.
Savannah finished buttoning up her pants and turned to face him.
"Captain Livie…" She stated
"It's good to see you again Ms. Weaver." Livie said as he took a few steps further into the room.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. While there was a certain emotional detachment to Livie's tone, he was still being sincere. Savannah did not look him directly in the eyes when she spoke.
"I've been better."
"That's understandable." He responded. An awkward silence then momentarily fell across the room before it was broken by Livie.
"Sergeant Pyle informed me that you still have it?" Savannah nodded her head as she instinctively reached towards her chest. She clutched the key in her hand when she found it under her shirt.
"I do…" Savannah responded, her voice growing colder as she continued, "…Colonel Bedell gave it to me just before he was killed." As Savannah spoke, she felt herself becoming more and more disconnected from her emotions. It was a defense mechanism that she had adopted many years ago; soon after the death of Mr. Ellison, but not before her encounter with Danny Dyson.
"It's good that you were able to recover it." Livie said, "Bedell's death…it's very…" Livie Sighed a long heavy sigh,
"…unfortunate…"
"Indeed…" Savannah responded as Livie shifted his body weight from one side to the other and then spoke again,
"You should get cleaned up and get something to eat, there'll be a briefing in the conference room in about thirty minutes…Bring it with you and meet us there." Savannah nodded her head and another moment of uncomfortable silence passed before Livie turned and walked out of the room.
Once Livie was gone Savannah leaned back against the table that was behind her. She took a slow deep breath and then exhaled. Her eyes quickly flicked around the room as she renewed her effort to bury her emotions. She had witnessed the death of many people before. Some were close friends, others were comrades, and some were just mere acquaintances, but this situation felt significantly different. Savannah was unsure if what she was experiencing was because of Martin or John, or both, but the sensation was extremely unsettling for her. It was something she had not felt in a long while, and Savannah had come to learn that she disliked feeling that went beyond superficial emotions. She now believed that anything stronger than casual feelings or experiences was too dangerous to allow herself to experience in the world where she now lived. She ground her teeth slightly and took another breath. As she had done so many other times in her life she forced her emotions back inside. Like so many other times in her life she had survived, she had been the only one to survive, yet again.
.
.
.
John lay motionless on the cold steel table. He stared blankly up at the bright examination light above him. He now felt almost numb. Taking slow even breaths his vision went in and out of focus, but no thoughts came to his mind. There was just an overwhelming "nothingness" that now seemed to be overpowering him. He was so disconnected that he did not immediately notice the sound of the entrance door as it opened.
Lying on the steel table John suddenly observed movement out of the corner of his right eye. However, he did not even bother to investigate who or what it was. There was silence yet again before a voice broke the stillness.
"It is good to see you again, Mr. Connor." Recognizing the voice as Fischer's John did not respond, he continued to stare at the light. There was another brief pause before he heard the voice again.
"Mr. Connor…" John still did not respond. He merely took another breath and exhaled slowly. Then, the voice spoke again and this time John's attention was captured.
"Mr. Connor…" There was an unmistakably Scottish accent behind the tone this time around. John's eyes immediately flicked over to his right, followed quickly by his head. His jaw nearly fell open with shock. Stuttering somewhat John managed to speak,
"Ca….Catherine Weaver?"
Catherine Weaver stood elegantly before John. Her bright red hair was pulled back into a perfectly formed pony tail. She wore, or rather had created a bright white business dress which fit snuggly around her body.
"How...How did you get here?" John asked confusion evident in his voice.
"It is a bit of a long story Mr. Connor and we do not have the time to discuss it here." Catherine stated as she began to remove the shackles fastened around John's hands.
"We do not have much time at all. We must hurry" She added as she removed John's leg restraints.
Once free John quickly moved off of the interrogation table,
"What the hell is going on?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice somewhat muffled.
"I will explain later Mr. Connor. For the time being we must leave." Looking around the room John immediately observed the other people lying motionless on the tables. He quickly moved over to each one of their bodies checking to see if they were alive.
Displaying what could only be described as annoyance, even though John believed she was incapable of emotions, Catherine spoke again.
"Mr. Connor…"
"I'm not leaving them…" John said with urgency in his voice as he moved past the dead body of a young female.
"Mr. Connor…" John moved over to the table of a young male clothed only in an examination gown who could not have been older than 18. As he touched his hand to the boy's throat to check for a pulse, the male's eyes immediately shot open.
"Get away from me!" The boy yelled as he began to struggle against his shackles.
"Keep your voice down…" John stated in a hushed voice as he removed the restraints from the boy's legs,
"I'm here to help you…" Staring at John in terror the boy watched as John freed first his left hand and then his right.
The moment the boy was free he pushed John away from him,
"I said stay away!" The fear in the young male's voice was unmistakably present and he moved himself around the table in an attempt to escape from John.
"I told you I'm trying to help." John said, the concern in his voice growing.
"Mr. Connor, I can not emphasize enough how we DO NOT have the time for this." Catherine stated, an obviously emulation of anger in the tone of her voice.
"You're working with them." The boy said as he made his way over towards the exit door.
"No wait!" John said as the boy suddenly sprinted towards the exit and then out of it. John immediately moved after him, but he was abruptly intercepted by Catherine who grabbed him by the arm, stopping him from proceeding any further.
"Mr. Connor, there is absolutely no time for this. We must leave immediately." It was readily apparent that Catherine was not about to let John pursue the freed fugitive any further.
"He will serve as a sufficient distraction for us." Catherine then stated in a cold and callous tone, bringing a certain look of disgust to John's face in response.
"I have acquired clothing for you; it is located outside of this establishment, but we must go, now." Catherine moved through the doorway and in the opposite direction that the boy had run in. John turned and looked back into the interrogation room, at the bodies of the people lying on the tables. He felt a sense of remorse as he gazed upon them one last time before moving quickly through the doorway, following Catherine Weaver.
.
.
.
"We should kill him…" Fischer turned his head over to his left at the sound of the malevolent voice. Sidling up to him was an imposing black male. At least 6'2 and with a muscular build, the man wore black and white urban camouflage fatigues.
"Skynet wants him alive." Fischer responded. The black male snorted in annoyance.
"Why kill your enemy, when you can corrupt him from within?" Fischer added in an arrogant tone. "Skynet has determined that all of the attempts by its predecessors to kill John Connor were an inefficient use of its resources, especially given the recent turn of events." The black man continued to stare at Fischer as they moved onwards down the brightly lit metal hallway.
"But, if we can turn him, imagine the possibilities."
"And if we can't convince him to join us?" Fischer chuckled slightly at the question.
"Oh he will…After all, we are the only ones that can give him what he truly wants."
"And how are we going to give that to him?" The black male callously asked. Fischer gave the man a wicked smile.
"You just leave that to me." Both men continued their trek down the winding hallways towards one of the interrogation rooms.
/././
Authors Notes: I hope everyone remembers Lauren Fields from "Alpine Fields" and Livie who was actually another recruit that was mixed in with Bedell's squad at Presidio Alto from the episode "Goodbye To All That" (The camera briefly panned across him after Derek reamed out Pyle).