John was not present while Nishimira and the command staff drew up plans to defend against the looming Skynet attack. He simply asked that they advise him and the other council members about whatever strategy they engendered, if for no other reason than to expedite the civilians' escape.
By 5 p.m., July 4, all of the couriers had returned and more than 85,000 ballots had been counted. The five trustees were bleary eyed and crabby, but they remained dedicated to the task with approximately 15,000 votes to go. John, Gonzalez and Ellison were still clearly going to win, earning 62, 26 and 22 percent of the vote, respectively.
Meanwhile, he, Allison and the newspaper staff produced the stories about the election and Hoth's suicide, while he alone prepared for his own broadcast on the same subjects. There was also some planning for the celebration to be held recognizing the winners of the election and the return of democracy. Some 2,000 were expected to attend—after all, this was Skynet's target, so they had to proceed as if oblivious of the enemy's intent.
They did have to move the party to July 15 because of all the planning—military and civilian—that was needed. And the cryptographers confirmed it: Skynet moved their "surprise" attack to comply with their human targets.
The party would be held at a motor depot about 10 blocks from Serrano Point. The location was mostly subterranean with only about a 500 centimeters above ground level. This allowed it to be pretty cleverly hidden from Skynet's prying eyes. The military had been using it as an intermediate point for launching attacks or as a haven for retreating or transiting formations.
Debris had been carefully positioned all around the building and all windows were covered with paint or sealed altogether to prevent light from escaping. Although typically humming with activity on a daily basis, from the outside it looked like just another pile of rubble in a vast sea of such piles.
In spite of these precautions, it was clear that Skynet was not fooled. That didn't matter now, however, as the depot and the party would be used as bait to trap the attackers.
Unfortunately, the cypher team could not determine all the specifics of Skynet's attack. They knew the place and time—9 p.m.—and the forces allotted to the attack—some 200 T-600s. But the exact tactics of the offensive—direction and deployment—remained elusive to the intelligence experts.
In response, Nishimira's plan had to be flexible by design. She mostly wanted as much firepower as she could muster to be within about two blocks north, south, east and west of the depot. Like Skynet had done to them in the valley, they would allow the T-600s to march right through unscathed, then close the trap from all sides.
The largest problem was removing so many civilians unharmed. Although tricky and time-consuming, the colonel believed it could be accomplished by the sewer that ran directly underneath the depot, provided they started the evacuation well before the actual battle.
That's where the council came in. There were three entances to the sewer in the depot, each with a 5-meter ladder from the surface to the culvert below. John calculated they could move about 60 people out every five minutes, so roughly 165 minutes would be needed to evacuate everybody. If they began at 6:15, they should make it while still providing an illusion for any enemy lookouts.
That is, if Skynet abided by their timetable.
An incredible amount of work had to be done by the military and civilians in a relatively short period of time. Fortunately, the actual party had been in the planning stages for weeks anyway. Some of the speeches and announcements had to be moved to a point earlier in the celebration to accommodate the evacuation, but otherwise things proceeded as planned.
The military was used to operating on tight schedules. They just threw more manpower at it if they fell behind.
While many scurried about the base with various assignments, James Ellison managed to isolate Allison for a few moments. He marveled at her efforts to lift a rather large box of china, hesitating to help at first, almost in disbelief.
"You really do need help with that, don't you?" Ellison asked.
Allison didn't answer, preferring instead to give him a wide-eyed glare while she gasped for breath. Ellison quickly moved to assist her and, in fact, took the box from her entirely, moving it to a table at her direction.
Ellison was surprised to find the box wasn't particularly heavy. Perhaps for a woman the size of Allison, but not for a terminator that once threw him around his own living room. After placing the box down, he turned around to size up the young lady.
"How long have you known John?" he asked.
She arched her left eyebow and twisted her head slightly as she considered the question briefly. Simultaneously, Ellison felt a chill run up his spine—the similarity to Cameron was uncanny.
"Three months, more-or less," she responded. "Why?"
"I've known John much longer," Ellison replied, locking eyes with Allison.
"Why has he never mentioned this?" Allison asked, bewilderment written all over her features.
Just then, John arrived on the scene, accompanied by a hoard of helper children. Allison and Ellison spun simultaneously to face him.
"Why don't you ask him?" Ellison said, adding, "Excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be," as he stormed by a perplexed John.
"What was that all about?" John said.
Allison shook her head, replying, "We'll talk about it later." She then quickly walked away, in the opposite direction of Ellison's destination.
"What? Wait… Ally! What's….." John said, stuttering in confusion. "I'll be so glad when this is over."
As 3 p.m. and the party's start approached, John found himself restless. He could not avoid the feeling that something was being overlooked, despite a cast of thousands and his near obsessive compulsive inspection of a checklist.
"Why don't you get some sleep?" Allison asked. "You've been working almost continously since yesterday morning."
It was actually a good suggestion, John conceded. "Why don't you join me?" John answered, a little too bluntly.
Allison merely blinked at John, almost shocked by John's abruptness. Of course, other than that brief experience together in Derek's bedroom, John and Allison had never been together. Most of the blame for that rested solely on the severity of Allison's injuries, but there was also the fact that Serrano Point had to segregate men and women out of necessity.
John suddenly realized what he was asking and found himself quickly blushing. "I'm sorry, Ally," he said fumbling the words. "I didn't mean it that way. I just thought we could have a little quiet time together."
Allison shook her head and smiled. "Of course that's what you meant," she said, winking at him. "You're still a guy. But it doesn't matter, I'll go anyway."
John smiled back and offered her his hand. They walked hand-in-hand over to a small, unoccupied office on the depot's perimeter. John asked Allison to proceed inside while he located one of the newspapers' ubiquitous couriers. He briefly explained to the young boy that he and Allison would be resting in the office for a short while.
"Don't let anyone in here or disturb us unless the place is about to blow up,"John instructed, offering him a chocolate bar he had been carrying. "Knock loudly and get us up in about one hour."
The boy nodded in understanding and promptly sat right in front of the door as John shut it. He immediately began eating his prize.
The office was sparsely furnished, but did have the requisite desk, chairs and filing cabinets. There was also a badly dilapidated couch, something John apparently already knew. The lights were off, but some ambient light flooded in through the window, illuminating Allison's face. It wasn't the first and John hoped it wouldn't be the last time that her features were rendered so angelic.
"You take the couch," John said, moving toward the desk. "I'll just use the chair over here."
"Come here," Allison said, in a voice just above a whisper, inviting him over with open arms. John instinctively locked eyes with Allison, even though she couldn't quite return the favor because of the semi-darkness.
In spite of what he said just moments ago, John genuinely did not want to imply any sexual overtures in his invitation. He actually—really—needed to talk to her about something that had been nagging at him since Nishimira first approached him: Allison's proximity to the battle zone. There was also the puzzling conversation with Ellison to discuss.
But he wasn't certain at all about Allison's agenda here. Desperately searching for an answer in her eyes, John was content with letting her initiate what he felt was about to transpire, despite his own raging hormones. Because of her injuries and because she alone knew her real physical limits, the simple fact was that Allison would dictate the course of the proceedings. She was, actually, almost fully healed, as John could barely detect a limp and he had also noted that she had been walking without a crutch for several days now.
So when Allison merely guided him to the far corner of the couch and gently laid her head on his chest, John was perfectly satisfied with this arrangement. He began stroking her hair gently, while she matched the rhythm of his breathing. The two remained embraced for some time before John finally broke the silence.
"I'm so glad you're part of my life," John said quietly. "You're an inspiration, Ally."
Allison stirred somewhat at John's commentary. "You're the inspiring one, John," she answered. "The newspaper, the election, the speeches on the radio—it's been so amazing."
"I want you to know that you're just as integral to these developments," John replied. "I couldn't have done any of it without you."
Allison reached up and found the hand John had been caressing her hair with. She squeezed it tightly; he responded in kind and kissed her head softly.
Another period of quiet followed. This time Allison interrupted.
"Hoth said you were wise beyond your years," she commented. "What do you think he meant?"
John knew precisely what he meant. Much of his life had been spent either training to battle Skynet or actually doing it. Without realizing it, John had gained wisdom normally reserved for individuals two or three times his age, the sort of acumen one could achieve only by surviving multiple life-and-death situations.
Of course, the actual knowledge of Skynet, the war, terminators and his pivotal role with all three was not something that could be easily replicated. Or explained. So, how could he answer Allison's query?
"I suppose I learned everything I know from my Mom," John said after reflecting for a few moments.
"What's she like?" Allison asked, her curiosity peaking.
"She's the greatest fighter I've ever known," John said, proudly. "She knew from the start what was at stake—our survival. And she always did whatever it took for us to persevere."
John chose his words carefully and was purposely ambiguous. He knew that humanity's fate—as well as his own—depended on Sarah's actions and hoped Allison wouldn't detect the double meaning.
"What's your fondest memory of her?" Allison inquired, apparently oblivious of John's play on words.
He thought a moment before replying. "I never told her, but I loved when she read to me at bedtime. I suppose she already knew though, cuz I asked her nearly every night when I was little. 'The Wizard of Oz' was my favorite, but just about anything would do. Maybe she really loved it too—I don't remember her ever complaining about it."
"I think she just loved being with you, John," Allison replied. "That's easy enough to understand."
John chuckled a little at her response. Allison suddenly twisted herself half-around and confronted him, face-to-face.
"What happened to her, John?" she asked, staring him directly in his eyes. "Is she still alive?"
John's mind raced back to Ellison's revelation that Sarah had also entered the time portal. She did so after John and Weaver, of course, but why hadn't she arrived yet?
"I don't know, Ally," he lamented. "We were separated just before….Skynet captured me. I need to get back to Santa Clarita and search for her."
It was a half-truth. John wasn't even sure if Santa Clarita even existed anymore.
And Allison picked up on it immediately. It may have been his stammered response or his quick glance away before responding. Either way, she caught him.
"What is it, John?" she pressed. "What are you hiding? And why haven't you mentioned how long you've known James Ellison?"
"I don't know what you mean," John answered defensively, narrowing his eyes. Allison merely stared back at him in a way that only reminded him of Cameron.
"What did Ellison tell you?" John asked.
"He said he's known you for quite a long time," Allison answered.
John pondered her response. From Ellison's point of view, it was a long time—more than 20 years. From John's, it was about two years. How can I explain this?
Just then, a knock came at the door.
"Come in," John and Allison answered simultaneously.
It was Kristen Gonzalez. "Excuse me," Gonzalez said, poking her head in through the door. "We need you two out here helping organize. I've got all kinds of questions coming my way and I don't know what to tell them."
John was secretly relieved to have something to do. He nudged Allison in an attempt to get her moving.
"This isn't over, buster," Allison said, poking him in the chest. "We have unfinished business."
Allison gently disengaged herself from their embrace and walked quickly out the door, a very slight limp evident in her gait. John watched her go before laying straight back on the couch. He let out a heavy sigh—he never got to talk about what was really on his mind—Allison staying out of combat. And now, Ellison's complicating things—again.
Abruptly, John jumped up, following her out the door.
Time basically ceased to exist as the party got underway. John eventually decided that it had already started earlier in the day anyway. Once they got a brief but informative edition of the Resistance Today printed and distributed, in addition to a preliminary broadcast about the election, people began filtering into the depot and offering their congratulations.
To be sure, this was not a champagne-laiden, black-tie affair. The most popular drink was water, although the occasional—borderline hazardous—moonshine definitely made its presence felt, while the food was distributed in a basic military manner—a lot of bland casseroles and cafeteria trays.
A few speakers entertained the crowd, most notably Gonzalez, Ellison and John, all thanking those who voted for them and all praising the return of democracy. John also made sure that the speeches were broadcast on their primitive radio network, hoping to inspire similar results in other locales.
While Gonzlaez delivered her address—a particularly long one, John thought—he also had the chance to offer his condolences to Ellison. The former FBI agent had made himself scarce the last few weeks and even when he was needed for official business, he made it abundantly clear that he wasn't in the mood for conversation.
"I'm sorry about your friend," John said. "It didn't have to be that way."
"How did you think he would react, John?" Ellison asked angrily.
"I didn't think he would kill himself, if that's what you mean," John said defensively. "Anyway, I had no way of knowing he kept a gun in his desk."
"Yeah, well now we're all sons of bitches," Ellison stated without looking at John.
"What did you talk about with Allison today?" John asked, switching topics not-so-tactfully.
"I told her I've known you for a long time," Ellison conceded. "For a while, I actually thought she was Cameron. But her broken leg and her obviously unrobotic strength has convinced me otherwise. So what happened to Cameron?"
"She's gone," John lamented. "John Henry has her chip, but I can't reach him at the moment. Weaver says we'll meet again, but until then…." John's voice trailed off as the emotions caught up with him. Ellison cut him off just short of crying for his departed friend.
"Where is Weaver?" Ellison all-but-demanded.
"With John Henry, of course," John answered. "Was it really wise to tell Allison that?"
"What's going to happen to her John?" Ellison replied, accusingly. "Is that how they create Cameron's model? Shouldn't she know?"
John had no answer. Ellison then quickly walked away. John was left with yet more problems to consider.
Fortunately, he didn't have a long time to contemplate Ellison's comments. The invitation he had extended to Derek, Kyle and Carol had been accepted. With great timing, they had chosen this moment to make their presence known.
"There he is!" Derek said, slapping John hard on the back. "I knew it was a good idea not to shoot him that first day!"
John offered his uncle a wide grin and hugged him. "Wow, here's an ocassion," John countered. "Derek actually shaved. You sure you brought the right guy, Carol?"
"I think so," Carol replied in her thick Spanish accent. She moved in to kiss and hug John. "Congratulations on all your success so far!"
"Thanks," John said. "But this is only the beginning. We still have a long way to go."
"But at least we're going somewhere," Kyle interjected, offering John his hand. "Hey, how did you like my right-in vote idea?"
"So that's who started it," John answered, wide-eyed. "I had no idea, of course. It totally took me off guard."
"Yeah, I personally ran around to every camp, pushing for people to vote for you," Kyle admitted. "Most didn't know they could do it, but it caight on like wildfire. I guess you owe me."
Kyle's comment sent a chill down John's spine. He stared back at his father, dumbfounded. "I certainly do," John replied.
Just then, Susan Nishimira approached John. She now had the star of a brigadier general adorning her collar. "What is it, general?" John asked.
"Mr. Connor," Nishimira replied, saluting. "It's nearly 1810 hours—time to start the evacuations."
"Right you are, general," John replied. "Any sign of Skynet activity?"
"Nothing unusual," Nishimira answered.
"All right, I'll get my people moving," John said. "You may begin preparing for battle. Keep me advised if anything changes."
"Yes, sir," Nishimira replied, saluting once again before spinning around smartly and striding away purposefully.
John flinched slightly in reaction to the honorific, but dismissed it from his mind by quickly calling over a runner. After whispering instructions into his ear, the boy ran off and Derek took his turn to question John.
"What's going on?" Derek said, worry clinging to his voice.
"Skynet's coming," John said. "Here. In about three hours. We're beginning to evacuate citizens now. You three should get outta here now."
"I'm not running from a fight," Derek retorted, almost as if he was insulted.
"It's okay, Derek," John replied. "Nishimira has a big surprise in store for them. She's done her homework on this one."
"Skynet's always been a step ahead of us, John," Derek said, shaking his head. "Remember the valley disaster? Wasn't that supposed to be a surprise too?"
"But we've made a real intelligence breakthrough here, Derek," John answered. "This time we have the edge."
Derek squinted his eyes and took in John before nodding his head in understanding. "Alright, John," Derek admitted. "Let's see what your general can do. I'm gonna get Carol back to our camp. But, I'll be back!"
"I'll stay here and help the civilians evacuate," Kyle added, nodding to his brother as he watched the two scamper away. "With your permission, of course, John."
John would have preferred his father exit the battle zone. "I'll agree as long as you stay with me," John replied, although he knew perfectly well that in the confusion that was certain to ensue, they would become separated.
"Kyle, you be careful," Derek shouted back to him. "I'll return in no time."
Part of Nishimira's plan was to have actual soldiers replace the civilians who left so that the number of individuals at the party was nearly constant. Weapons were hidden in various discreet places around the depot for the servicemen to retrieve at a moment's notice.
8:30 came and went, but the sentinels reported nothing. A little more than 300 civilians remained, so the evacuation was proceeding nicely. Still, John was restless as two irreplaceable members of his family—Allison and Kyle—were now joined by a third—the returning Derek, now heavily armed.
All things being equal, John would rather have all three off the premises immediately, but there were no words that could convey his concern without revealing secrets that must remain so. Instead, he ordered Kyle to escort Allison back to Serrano Point, a command that was vehemently opposed by the young woman.
"I'm not leaving," Allison protested. "Not without John."
Of course, John expected this, so he drew her in close. "Ally, let Kyle escort you back to base camp," he whispered. "Please. I'll be right behind you. I promise."
Allison may have been deeply in love with John, but she was no fool. "Absolutely not, Connor!" she said, grabbing him tightly on his upper arms. Her tone was just short of a yell, but loud enough for people nearby to stop and glare. "If you stay, so do I!"
John was ready to have this discussion with Allison, but not in public. Nevertheless, he had to make sure the three of them got out.
It was a discussion of logical reasoning that he had countless times with himself. He knew that he would survive long enough to send Kyle and Derek back through time. Otherwise, he couldn't possibly exist. His father needed to survive for obvious reasons and older Derek would save his life twice—once against Sarkissian's helper, once against the rogue terminator at Presidio Alto.
Of course, these deductions were pointless if he danced in minefields on a regular basis, so staying out of Skynet crosshairs was probably going to be a wise move as well.
But Allison's future was uncertain, other than the fact that she would be captured and probably killed by the machines. John knew this would happen—how else do they make an utterly perfect copy of her in the form of Cameron?
His quandry at the moment was how to inform her of this eventuality. John was prepared to lose her, but not right now.
"Ally, you have to go," John pleaded, gently taking hold of each of her hands. She was trembling with adrenaline and now tears began welling in her eyes. "You're too important to risk this close to the battle."
"Too important?" Allison cried, the tears now dripping down her cheeks. "What about you? You're the one too important to be close to a battle!"
"I don't know how to explain it to you, Ally," John said evenly, trying in vain to calm her. "You just have to trust me here. I know that I will survive, but I can't guarantee anyone else's safety."
"Do you know how absurd that sounds, John Connor!" Allison said, glaring wide-eyed at him. "How can you possibly know that? How can anyone?"
John closed the distance between them so they were face-to-face. "If you don't believe me, then that's your choice," he whispered to her. "But you must go with Kyle. Now. Derek and his rifle will protect me."
The elder Reese dropped a round in the chamber and cocked his gun for reassurance. John tried a small smile.
But this time, Allison did not return the favor. Instead she whirled around and stormed off.
"Kyle, please make sure she reaches safety," John said. "And you be careful too."
"Thanks, John," Kyle answered. "Nothing will touch her."
John watched him run after Allison before turning to his uncle. Derek regarded his nephew with raised eyebrows.
"How do you know these things, John?" Derek asked.
"What, you too?" John answered, trying to sound annoyed. "I need to get her out of danger. She won't listen to reason, so I tried an irrational approach. I guess it worked."
"Uh huh," Derek responded. "Like a charm."
An awkward silence lingered between the two for a moment.
It was broken by the loud shriek of mutiple aircraft engines directly overhead. Nine o'clock sharp. Skynet was nothing if not punctual.