Ch 16

Disclaimer: Having never been to L.A., I've made a lot of geographical assumptions in this chapter, so please bear with me. Please piont out any mistakes and I'll correct them in future chapters or editions.

Derek and Kyle watched with fascination as the enigmatic newcomer—John Connor—slammed the door shut on the medical helicopter. The blackkawk quickly rose and flew south. It was soon joined by the other two and the three aircraft rapidly disappeared over the horizon.

The brothers stoically stared into the distance for a few moments, until Derek tapped his younger brother on the shoulder.

"C'mon Kyle," Derek said. "Let's get back to camp."

Kyle, Derek and Li scurried back into the sewer and plodded their way back to the Zeira building. The Reeses allowed Li to get further ahead, but she glanced back as if to question their tardiness.

"It's okay, Li," Derek assured her. "Go ahead. We'll catch up."

Derek let her walk a further 10 meters before addressing his brother. "It's amazing, isn't it Kyle," he said. "Just yesterday, the kid pops into our lives. A day later—he's already destroyed 30 or so terminators, saved hundreds. I mean—who the hell is he?"

Kyle considered his brother's question for quite a few moments as they began to slowly walk again. "I don't know, but one thing's for certain," he said.

"What?" Derek asked.

"We sure as hell need him," Kyle intoned.

Derek nodded with a sly grin at his brother's comment. Derek was about to say something else when he was interrupted by a voice in his earpiece.

"Copy, this is Sergeant Reese," he said. "Go ahead."

"Sir, Captain Bedell is ordering you and Corporal Reese join him at Checkpoint Alpha by 1600 hours," said the voice.

"Where's Alpha?" Derek asked.

"Transport is awaiting your return to base, sir," the voice answered. "That's all we have on it."

Derek turned to Kyle and the two exchanged a knowing look. "Roger that. Wilco," Derek said, moving his mic away from his mouth. "Looks like we're gonna be in that valley offensive after all."

"Terrific," Kyle said sarcastically. "Two battles in one day."

Derek knew that Bedell didn't usually order the Reeses to do anything, that their attachment to his unit was one of convenience and practicality. Only the biggest and most important missions required their presence.

Which is exactly what troubled the elder Reese now.

"C'mon," Derek said. "Let's double time it back and catch some chow before we have to go."

"Right!" Kyle answered, as the two ran trough the sludge.

Carol was anxiously pacing back and forth, waiting for the Reeses to return to the Zeira building. There were no reports about the battle other than Skynet's forces being turned away, thus cancelling the evacuation order.

She was, of course, relieved about that and made sure to inform her students that class was done for the day, but would resume tomorrow as scheduled. That momentary distraction did little to ease her tension, however.

Finally, a battered and filthy, but otherwise unharmed Li Shuo entered the building's assembly area, only to be mobbed by family and friends. Derek and Kyle followed soon after, glad handing and hugging everyone they came in contact with.

Carol didn't wait, running to greet Derek the second she laid her eyes on him. They hugged tightly and kissed passionately.

"Thank God you're alive," Carol whispered into Derek's ear.

"Thank John Connor," Derek corrected. "It was his plan. Worked almost perfectly."

"Where did you find this boy?" Carol asked, whiping a smudge of dirt off his cheek.

"It's the damnedest thing, isn't it?" Derek answered. "It's almost like he popped in out of thin air. I'm gonna find out, someday, I hope. In the meantime, he's definitely helping the cause."

"Yeah, everyone here's talking about him," Carol added. "I guess he gave quite the speech this morning, too."

"It was very….illuminating," Derek conceded. "I'll have to fill you in."

"I can't wait to hear about it," Carol said. "Where is he now?"

"He rode with Allison and Tomlinson to HQ," Derek said. "Ally and Tommie were hurt pretty bad."

"Oh, no!" Carol said, covering her mouth with her hands. "Will they make it?"

"I hope so," Derek replied. "We lost James, Hunter and Perez, though. I gotta tell their families."

Carol nodded and backed away, watching her husband deliver the bad news to the grieving parties. It's often understated, but the home front suffers just as much as the battlefront.

Derek returned to Carol a short time later. She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't finished handing out bad tidings.

"Kyle and I have to help out Bedell," Derek admitted.

"No!" Carol cried. "When?"

"Later this afternoon," Derek added. "With any luck, we'll be back tonight."

"How can you say that?" Carol said, accusingly, tears welling in her eyes. "Haven't you done enough for the day? Why don't you just tell Bedell you've clocked out today?"

Derek knew that her comment was rhetorical and didn't reply. Instead he drew her in tightly and kissed the top of her head.

"If only war worked on an eight hour clock," Derek said. "We'll be back before you know it."

"You'd better be," Carol said, wiping her tears away. "I wanna hear all about John Connor."

Derek smiled wryly as he backed away from her. "I love you," he said.

"I love you," Carol asnwered.

Derek took one last look at his wife and then signaled for his brother to join him.

"Copy, this is Sergeant Reese," Derek said, keying his mic. "Inform Peterson she's in charge until I return."

"At once, sir," the voice said back.

Derek and Kyle assembled with the rest of the 132nd at Checkpoint Alpha in the foothills of Mount Lee in Griffith Park. One of the letters—an o—from the famous Hollywood sign had miraculously survived. Torn and battered, but still standing, the symbol from a bygone era was a reflection of humanity's stubbornness and spirit.

Most of the trees in the park were dead; those that weren't, would be soon. Some shrubbery still held on, but they too had seen better days. Grass was also visible in spots, but for the most part, plant life hadn't fared so well in the nuclear winter.

Bedell had explained the simple plan of attack: the Reeses and the rest of the battalion were to advance west into North Hollywood, eliminate any terminators or Skynet presence, and eventually link up with the 113th near Van Nuys. What the troops didn't know, was that their deployment was a decoy—their primary mission was to attract the attention of as many enemy units as possible and draw them back toward Griffith Park. Then, two full regiments were to close in from the north, behind Skynet's advance, while the 132nd would reverse its retreat and join the rest of its regiment to close the trap.

Late afternoon had been chosen for the operation specifically to coincide with a heavy rain cell that was moving in from the Pacific. The rain and subsequent fog, it was hoped, would neutralize the effectiveness of HKs and the optical range of the T-600s. The problem, of course, was that those atmospheric conditions limited human effectiveness as well.

Another fortunate, albeit unforseen, side-effect of the nuclear holocaust was that artillery, which had ruled the battlefield since the First World War, was no longer being used en masse. The bane of the common infantryman, humans had found standard shrapnel-producing cannon to be virtually worthless against the heavily armored minions of their enemy. Skynet apparently believed the combination of tanks, sentries and HKs was adequate, but, in any event, had not used massed artillery against the human resistance thus far.

For its march, the battalion used the Ventura Freeway, a highway that sank below ground level like a canal, with 15-meter high concrete walls lining either side, flush with the surface at their tops. Three-meter high fences additionally topped the walls, although rusted, twisted and battered, they had seen better days.

One company each paced down the elevated northern and southern shoulders of the highway, while the other marched down the middle. Thousands of long dormant, rusted and decaying vehicles provided excellent cover for the advance.

The rain had begun, although only as a soft drizzle, but light was disappearing fast as twilight started to give way to night. The eerie quiet was broken only by muffled chatter from the various officers and NCOs and the steadily increasing patter of the raindrops on the vehicles' rooves and the highway surface.

The Reeses were part of the southern shoulder advance. Derek was armed with his trusty M82, a grenade launcher and assorted pistols; his brother had a plasma rifle, grenade launcher and his Beretta.

Derek paused near a mangled portion of the fence to scan the horizon with his night vision binoculars. Kyle bristled beside him, drawing a long gulp of water from his canteen.

"I don't like it, Kyle," Derek said. "Feels like were walking into an ambush. I prefer to wait for them."

"Do you see anything?" Kyle asked.

"Not a goddamn thing," Derek intoned, frustrated.

The battalion continued its trek for another 20 minutes, moving a good five kilometers west on the Ventura. The rain had steadily increased to a moderate pace, just short of a downpour, when a signal finally came for all to stop. Derek and Kyle scrambled for cover behind an overturned pickup truck, the former training his binoculars ahead.

"What is it?" Kyle demanded anxiously from his brother's side.

"I still don't see anything," Derek said. "Blasted rain makes vision all but impossible. No….wait! There's definitely movement on that overpass ahead!"

Without a pause, the horizon abruptly illuminated as several star shells exploded over Skynet's position, the battalion's attempt to highlight the enemy. This was rapidly followed by heavy bursts from machine guns and plasma rifles. The dogs of war were free.

Bedell had ordered the Reeses into the battle as reconaissance observers only, but it was hard for the brothers to watch stoically as their comrades were methodically hunted. They also knew that joining the battle would eliminate their concealment.

A fierce firefight had developed, but the heavily armored 600s were exacting a heavy toll. In spite of smoke grenades lobbed sporadically across the battlefield, the terminators and the tanks were picking off exposed targets right and left. Several of the youngsters just weren't experienced enough or perhaps were too frightened to move after firing a few rounds—they were easy victims for Skynet.

Still, some of the more seasoned veterans had better luck. RPGs made quick work of at least three ogres that Derek counted, and one extremely lucky shot immediately ignited a tank's fuel storage, finishing the tank and at least 10 T-600s in close proximity.

Back at HQ, reports began coming in from the various forward observers about Skynet forces and positions. Before long more than 100 hundred separate T-600s and tanks had been plotted and the tactical display, once dominated by the blue human markers, began filling with red.

There were also several casualty reports as the forward squads began suffering at the hands of Skynet.

"Okay people,' Hoth said coolly, "Let's begin the second phase."

"What's the second phase?" John asked Benes.

"Feigned withdrawal," she said.

"All units, this is 132 actual," Bedell's voice intoned through the earpiece. "Proceed to Checkpoint Alpha."

Derek and Kyle exchanged confused glances.

"Copy, this is Sergeant Reese," Derek said. "Could you verify that order, Captain."

"Order verified, Reese," Bedell said, with a little agitation. "Proceed to Alpha."

"Wilco," Derek replied to Bedell. Then to Kyle, "Let's move."

As the brothers retreated explosions and gunfire interchanged with humans screaming in agony behind them. Derek and Kyle ran, found cover behind some vehicles and desperately returned fire, allowing others to run past them and follow the same procedure, a tried and tested technique. Within 30 minutes the battalion had reached Alpha once again.

Only the ranks were much thinner.

Derek found Bedell, panting heavily, just like everyone else.

"Now what, captain?" Derek asked.

"We hold this position," Bedell ordered. "Get to an elevated point, near that bunch of downed trees. Take what's left of Delta Company. I'll take Echo right over here and McDonald will take Foxtrot over on that rise."

"We can't hold them forever, sir!" Derek said.

"We won't have to," Bedell assured him. "Cavalry's coming."

Derek wasn't sure what he meant, but he nodded and moved off with Kyle.

"Delta company, on me!" he yelled into his mic.

He and Kyle got the company, mostly young teenagers, assembled into a skirmish line amongst the downed trees. He quickly counted his ranks, coming up with only 133 soldiers. They had already lost 67, killed, wounded or captured, including Lieutenant Davis, Delta's CO.

Kyle, returning from his brief organizing stint, finally had a chance to talk it over with his brother.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Kyle whispered in desperation to Derek.

"I don't know," Derek said, grimacing. "It's just like Connor said, though. Fighting without purpose."

"Let's just hope we live long enough to to discuss it," Kyle added.

"Yeah, but if worse comes to worst," Derek said, looking Kyle straight in the eyes, "You run! Just like when you were a kid. Don't look back!"

"You too, Derek!" Kyle added, matching his brother's stare.

So, with guns ready, they waited. And waited.

And waited.

But nothing came. It was a solid 30 minutes without gunfire. The eerie silence had returned. The steady rain had never left.

Once again at HQ, forward observers had noted that approximately 150 T-600s and 15 tanks were in pursuit of the retreating 132nd. The decoy had worked.

"Okay, begin phase three," Hoth ordered.

"This is where the trap swings shut," Benes said confidently, answering John's unasked question. "Our two regiments move rapidly in from the north and massacre the whole lot."

"But how are they gonna close that much ground fast enough?" John asked. "That has to be nearly 15 kilometers from the San Gabriel Mountains."

"About 200 are arriving via helicopter," Benes said smiling. "The rest will drive right down 170 and 405 in about 300 trucks and other vehicles."

"But how do you know there aren't more terminators waiting for them?" John asked. "They could be moving right into an ambush!"

"No, air recon said it was clean," Benes replied. "Relax, John. Your little ambush this morning was nicely played. But this is a different level, involving thousands of troops. Watch how the professionals handle this."

John slumped back in his chair. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he thought they were underestimating Skynet. The plan seemed too obvious to him, but not being a seasoned strategist, he kept his mouth shut.

However, that failed to ease a sense of dread that was welling up inside him.