Allison and John took a moment to collect themselves before emerging from Derek's bedroom. Kyle was waiting in the living room.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ally," Kyle said, surprised, "I didn't know you were there too."
"It's okay," Allison responded. "Derek gave me permission."
John and Kyle exchanged quick glances, which Allison interpretted as their mutual lack of belief in her statement.
"He did!" she said defensively.
John couldn't supress a smile, saying, "I believe you." But it wasn't John she was trying to convince.
"It's cool," Kyle said, dismissively. There were more pressing issues. "C'mon, we gotta get topside."
The three scampered off and up a stairwell in the middle of the complex that John had not previously seen. It was in considerably better shape than the dilapidated one they had used the previous day. In fact the entire complex was scrambling up the flight when John, Allison and Kyle arrived.
The sirens became louder as they approached the surface as the weight and severity of the situation was revealed. Several of Derek's subordinates were issuing directives as people arrived on the main level.
Kyle led them to his brother's command post—a hallowed out former lavatory.
"What do we have?" Kyle asked.
"Forward observers have sighted a squad of 600s marching right down Santa Monica toward us," Derek said, disdainfully. "Must be 20 of 'em. Plus three ogres. ETA—45 minutes, tops. Probably sooner."
"Same party we saw yesterday," Kyle said, exchanging a glance with John. "HKs?"
"At least two," Derek said, "circulating for recon."
"How do we know we're the target?" John asked.
"We don't," Derek said, matter-of-factly. "But we have to assume the worst. We tried to lay low all these years, but all the excitement from yesterday is bound to have consequences."
"What about Bedell and the 132nd?" John queried. "Can't they help?"
"He's been alerted, but the bulk of his force is taking part in some major attack in the Valley," Derek lamented. "We're on our own."
John silently cursed at the response. This was exactly the problem, he thought. Civilians defending themselves, filling the military's role.
"What's the plan, then? John asked. "Run?"
"Only thing to do," Derek answered, thinking of Carol. "We can't risk all those families, all those children. We're already preparing our evacuation."
"What kind of weapons do we have?" John countered, his mind working in overdrive.
"Assorted small arms, a bunch of plasma rifles and this," Derek said, proudly, as he removed a large rifle from the sling around his right shoulder, displaying it for the others to see. "The M82 sniper rifle, with .50 callibre armor-piercing rounds."
"It's a beauty," John said. It was similar to the one older Derek used to dispose of the T-888 at Presidio Alto. "I'm assuming you can use it."
"Oh yeah," Derek boasted, grinning.
"Outstanding," John said. "But do we have anything heavier?"
"Bedell left us some grenade launchers, a stinger missle, and some EFPs," Derek said.
"What are EFPs?" Allison asked.
"Explosively formed penetrators," Kyle interjected. "They're like land mines, only with a hell of a lot more kick. They're for taking out big targets—tanks, buildings, whole enemy formations."
"There's a couple of problems, however," Derek added. "To be most effective, they have to be placed beforehand and set for proximity blast. The target literally has to roll over or step on it, so you have to be very precise with placement. The other option is to face the charges so the explosive jet sprays the intended target—these have to be remotely activated."
"Meaning we have to be within eyesight of the target to be certain we hit it," John said.
"Exactly," Derek answered. "It's very dangerous. Plus, Bedell only wants us using them as weapons of last resort."
"Why?" John asked, angrily puzzled.
"Because they're in short supply," Kyle answered.
"So is everything else," John countered. "I say we use them."
"There isn't enough time, kid," Derek insisted.
"But we still have half-an-hour," John retorted quickly. "If we deploy those charges right after the bend in Santa Monica—so they can't see us as we set up —we could take out the whole lot."
Derek looked at him in astonishment, but also with intrigue.
"No more running," John emphasized. "It's time to stand and fight, defend our home."
So the kid wasn't all mouth. Derek grinned.
"What exactly do you have in mind?" Derek asked, a devil-may-care expression on his face.
John was no great strategist, but he did know some tactics. To him, the machines' brazen idea of marching straight at them in broad daylight was not only foolhardy, it was insulting. Skynet had no respect for the humans.
On the other hand, John thought, maybe we didn't deserve any regard. After all—scavenging, living in cellars, running in the shadows—these weren't exactly dignified actions. Necessary, yes. But hardly ideal.
It was time to change this. And it was time to use Skynet's impudence as a weapon against them.
John's team consisted of himself, Allison, Kyle and five tunnel rats—as Derek had referred to them—James, Tomlinson, Li, Perez and Hunter, whom Derek had also said could handle the weapons. James and Li joined Allison as the female members of the force.
Even still, John wanted Allison to remain behind, but her insistance about being at his side was stronger than his desire for her to play it safe. Besides, John admitted to himself, she was extremely athletic, agile and quick and displayed an amazing ability to learn on the move. Most of all, though, the fire in her eyes was undeniable and, in fact, inspiring.
But he also had to temper his expectations. Although they were identical in appearance, Allison had no answer for Cameron's military capabilities. John and Sarah had used the hyper-alloy combat chasis in multiple fighting roles with terrific results in the last two years.
So he decided on a quick compromise. Allison would be involved, but her role would be relatively limited.
Derek gave John and Allison the fastest summary on deploying an EFP that was humanly possible. It was simple enough, John thought—just make certain it's facing the right direction, remove the safety and hit the remote detonator. The plasma rifles seemed equally easy to use. He just had to remember to let it charge between rounds of firing.
Kyle and Hunter were issued RPGs in addition to plasma rifles. With only three rounds each, though, the rocket propelled grenades would need to be used against the big targets, including the HKs. James, Tomlinson, Li and Perez had the grim detail of covering John and Allison with the grenade launchers and remaining plasma weapons.
Derek and his spotter, Goldstein, were hidden in piles of rubble approximately 500 meters behind them. Derek had his rifle and the stinger.
They arrived at the "bend" in Santa Monica Boulevard through the sewers, after a brisk 5-minute run. They needed to use the sub-terrainian system to escape detection by the HKs.
John, for one, was grateful to be out of the sewer. He couldn't remember a worse stench than that which emanated from the bowels of the ill-fated city.
The thoroughfare, for most of its 22 kilometer run from the Pacific Ocean, stretched northeasterly. It turned due east at about the 15 kilometer mark. This was where John planned his ambush.
The group separated into two teams—one for each side of the street. Kyle, Allison, James and Tomlinson had the north side detail, while John and the others would cross to cover the south. John lingered for a moment while his squad scrambled across the street.
"You be careful, Allison Young," he said, trembling from the adrenaline. "After you set the charge, you stay out of sight. Let these soldiers do their jobs. Detonate when I give the signal."
He paused. She already knew this. They went over it again and again while running through the sewer. What he didn't know was if he would ever see her again.
"You be careful too, John Connor," Allison said, looking longingly into his eyes and touching him tenderly on his cheek. She was trembling as well.
John allowed himself a small smile before leaning in towards her. "I love you," he said, kissing her fully on her lips.
She kissed him back. "I love you too," she returned, smiling.
John then shot a look at his father, whom he also wished had not come along. Kyle's experience and presence was badly needed, but having two intimately important figures of his existence so tantalizingly close to danger nearly tore him apart.
He nodded to Kyle. "Radio silence until I give the signal. Good luck, all!" he said, and turned to cross the street.
Midway across, John kneeled down and placed one of his two EFPs on the road. He found some debris—wood paneling and half demolished bricks—and obscurred it as best as he could. Before leaving, he turned the safety off.
John reached the south side and dived for cover in a blown out store front. The many openings and arches provided good camouflage, allowed for excellent observation and granted multiple fire and manuver positions. He was happy to see that the north side had a similar arrangement.
His arrival was none too soon—a pair of HKs buzzed menacingly within 25 meters of the surface, scanning for movement. Aparently satisfied with their sweep, the aircraft departed in the general direction of Skynet's ground advance.
John waited for the hover-craft to depart before squirming around and through wreckage so he could get a good look to the southwest. Retrieving his binoculars, he saw what he expected—three tanks plodding steadily toward them up Santa Monica, kicking up a vast amount of dust in the process. The dust partially obscurred the twin columns of T-600s marching behind, so he could not get an accurate count.
John estimated five more minutes until the formation arrived, so he worked his way back through the building and into the street to deploy his last EFP. Allison watched him from the north side, waiting until he was done before she copied his manuver. John held his breath until she finished her placement and scrambled back under cover.
Good. Now, Allison, please stay hidden.
However, John had no sooner conjured the thought when Allison suddenly re-emerged, dashing for the EFP. He observed in fear until realizing that she had forgotten to remove the safety. She corrected her mistake and got back to concealment without further incident.
John exchanged a glance with Kyle and both breathed a heavy sigh of relief. As small a mission as this was, danger lurked at every turn.
Without another hesitation, John returned to his previous vantage point, observing that the enemy formation was nearly upon them. Suddenly, the ground and buildings began to shake as the enormous weight of the tanks had their predictable, familiar, and paralyzing effect on their surroundings.
John silently hoped that his young team would maintain their composure. They only needed the orges to move past the EFPs to expose his real target—the T-600s.
At last the tanks were at the bend and they began moving due east. The leading beheamoth was still 50 meters from the EFP John had planted in the middle of the road. More importantly, Skynet was still blissfully unaware of the ambush.
Finally, the terminators were in position. John said one simple phrase into to mic: "Smoke!"
At his command, Li and James launched smoke grenades at the east and west ends of the battle area. Derek's spotter simulataneously shielded his commander with smoke as well.
The tanks immediately spun weapons at the grenade launching sites and fired, but their quaries had already displaced. Derek took the opportunity to eliminate two T-600s with quick head shots.
The remaining 600s immediately dispersed toward the sides of the road, just as John had predicted. Keying his mic again, he screamed, "Allison, now!"
John triggered his own remote as he yelled the order. Two nearly simultaneous explosions ripped through the battle area—friend and foe alike were temporarily incapacitated by the blasts' proximity.
Kyle and Hunter wasted no time, however, following John's plan to the letter. Each emerged from their temporary hideaway with RPGs at the ready. Using the smoke and the momentary confusion caused by the EFPs' blasts, the pair quickly dispatched the two trailing ogres.
The vehicles spasmed out of control and crashed into the buildings on their respective sides of the boulevard. The remaining tank fired multiple weapons in every direction , but found no targets.
Now it was Tomlinson's and Perez's turns to alternate drawing and returning fire. Using the knocked out ogre as a shield against its surviving counterpart, Tomlinson spun out of his north side concealment and rapidly fired his plasma rifle at an unsuspecting T-600, shearing off the all-important right side of its head. He quickly ducked back under cover, drawing a fusillade of bullets from the other 600s, none of which found their mark.
Perez mimicked Tomlinson's manuver on the south side, registering the team's fourth kill in the process. The two repeated this tactic until it briskly ended, when the 600s correctly predicted Perez's next position, gunning him down in a hail of bullets.
In spite of this loss, the team had already taken down five terminators in addition to the seven or eight eliminated by the EFPs. There were some looming obstacles, however—the last tank and the impending arrival of the HKs.
John had anticpated this and had Hunter and Kyle in position to draw the ogre toward the remaining EFP. They knew they had to save their rounds for the HKs, which would be much tougher targets.
The two steadily lured the beast toward the mine with the tried and tested fire-and-manuever strategy. They used the plasma rifles to draw the tank's attention, but they had little, if any, effect on the tank otherwise.
Derek used this opportunity to target the ogre's optics, knocking them out one-by-one as he changed position several times. Meanwhile, James and Li lobbed more grenades at the terminators, which caused the machines to do something very unexpected—they unloaded a desperation barrage at the entire north side store front.
James was killed immediately, while Tomlinson was rendered combat ineffective with hits to his right arm and leg. Miraculously, Allison had remained in place—farther west of the terminators' volley. In horror and uncertain of her position, John witnessed the whole thing from his vantage point.
"Allison!" he screamed, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the screeching and terrifying arrival of the two HKs. The aircraft buzzed the combat zone at low level, before stopping and slowly turning around. Only 100 meters from Derek's position.
The elder Reese wasted no time, hoisting the stinger missile system to his shoulder and taking aim. Firing at the north side HK, Derek's lone missile found its target quickly, shearing the tail off the hover-craft and causing it to plummet to the ground.
Crashing right into the remaining tank.
The resulting fireball was impressive. Hunter and the Reese brothers allowed themselves a brief cheer.
This was not the plan, to be sure. Derek knew there was more to be done, though, so he quickly dropped the stinger and looked for a spot where he could use his M82 again.
"Allison!" John said, into the mic, trying to stay calm. "Don't answer! Just stay where you are!"
John, however, had to move, and he quickly crawled along the wall for about 10 meters. Sure enough, the remaining HK peppered the position John just vacated with its gatling guns, keying on his frequency.
Allison, on the other hand, was frozen in place, in spite of herself. She had seen death and misery, but nothing had prepared her for the sheer terror and shock of close infantry combat.
Kyle and Hunter moved fast now, using the flaming wreckage of the tanks and HK as cover. They had four rounds between them to get the last aircraft.
After unsuccessfully strafing John's position, the HK slowly turned around, preparing for a new run. Searching for targets, it quickly found some near the destroyed remains of its partner.
Hunter fired first, but the machine deftly dodged the rocket by casually twisting its airframe. It simultaneously used its gatling gun to take Hunter's head clean off his torso. Kyle grimaced, knowing he really had only one shot, but he had to let it get closer.
Finally, the younger Reese emerged and fired at the HK, which was now less than 100 meters away. He did not admire his accuracy or lack thereof, noting the unfortunate results for those who did. Nevertheless, his shot was true, eliminating the machine's starboard side lift engine and wing in the process.
The sudden loss of aerodynamic integrity caused the HK to spiral sharply downward—directly into the remaing T-600s. The battle was over.
However, portions of the downed HK slammed into the north building near Allison's location. A large chunk of the wall and ceiling crashed down on her.
John and Li emerged from the south buidling and finished off what few T-600s remained with their plasma rifles. John called to Allison but received no reply.
The remnants of John's team—John, Kyle and Li—briefly converged near the blazing wrecks in the center of the street. They exchanged short-lived congratulatory handshakes and embraces. John was particularly thankful that his father was in one piece, but his concern quickly shifted to the northside store, or what remained of it.
"Hunter didn't make it," Kyle said. "What about the others?"
"James and Perez are dead," John said, excitedly, as he ran over to the north building. "We gotta find Allison and Tomlinson."
Just then, a squadron of aircraft roared overhead, not more than 25 meters above ground.
Derek spotted them as he was running to join the others. With menacing shark's teeth painted on their noses, he surmised they were A-10 Warthogs, aircraft specifically produced for ground-attack.
More importantly, they're on on our side, Derek thought.
"Copy, this is Lieutenant Reese," Derek said into his mic. "Advise Command that the battle site is secure. Only friendlies remain. But we need immediate evac, with some wounded."
"Roger, sir," a voice said back to him. After a slight delay, the voice returned, "Sir, helos already inbound."
The three survivors quickly found Tomlinson. He was bleeding badly and in serious pain, but at least he was alive.
"Where was Allison?" John anxiously asked.
Tomlinson weakly gestured to his left, saying, "20 or 30 meters over there."
Li tended to him, while John and Kyle searched. As they did, three Blackhawk helicopters landed in the street near their position.
"Cavalry's here!" Kyle shouted, hopefully.
John barely heard him, desperately searching for any sign of life. They soon found James and Kyle morbidly rolled her over, hoping for the best. But the injuries were far too severe and her eyes were glazed over. Without a word, he closed her eyelids, shaking his head at John in despair.
They intensified their search. Finally, John saw a leg sticking out from a pile of debris.
"There!" he yelled.
He and Kyle rapidly moved to the pile and began uncovering the victim. Allison was unconscious and John could not ascertain whether or not she was breathing.
"Medic!" he screamed.
Part of the ceiling had collapsed on her, badly cutting her right thigh. John and Kyle used all their combined might to get it off her.
"Ally! Ally!" John yelled, lightly tapping her jaw, hoping against hope that she would awaken.
Responding to John's plea, a medic arrived and began inspecting Allison, using a stethoscope to listen to her breathing.
"Sounds like a tension pneumothorax," he said, drawing a needle and an oxygen mask from his kit. After placing the mask over her nose and mouth, he unzipped her coat and ripped her shirt open. Searching for the correct spot, he delicately plunged the needle into her chest.
John winced at the sight. The medic looked up and nodded at John.
"It's a collapsed lung," he said confidently. "This will equalize the pressure."
Almost on cue, Allison coughed, although she remained unconscious..
"Okay, we got her breathing," the medic said. "But that leg looks bad. Stretcher!"
Two orderlies ran over with a gurney. They gingerly moved Allison onto the stretcher.
"She'll be okay," the medic reassured John and Kyle. "We'll take her back to base. That leg's probably broken and she might have a concussion."
"I'm going with you!" John demanded.
"Who are you?" the medic asked, uncertain.
"John Connor," he said, unflinching.
He considered the answer momentarily. "Alright, but that's all we can fit in the medical helo," he said.
"Fine," John answered. "And don't forget the bodies. There's three dead out here."
The medic nodded before joining the orderlies as they loaded Allison onto the helicopter.
Just then Derek and Goldstein finally arrived. Derek couldn't suppress his grin, despite the losses they endured.
"I'm going with Allison," John told his uncle as they shook hands. "Retrieve more of the chips—quickly. Then get your people outta here!"
"Yes, sir," Derek answered, smiling. He couldn't hide the respect he now had for the newcomer. And he didn't want to either.
John didn't miss the honorific title his uncle had casually bestowed on him, giving him a small smile and a nod. "Outstanding work, Derek!" he said, "You should be proud of everyone."
"It was all you, John," Derek said, reverently. "It was your plan!"
"We paid a heavy price, though," John lamented. "Three dead, two wounded…"
"But we defended our home!" Derek insisted. "All because of you."
With that, John nodded and turned to board the chopper. "I'll see you in a little while," he added, glancing back. "Don't forget the unused EFP. We wouldn't want Bedell thinking it went to waste."
Derek nodded and winked at John. The Reeses watched as John climbed aboard the helicopter and slammed the door shut.