The general said nothing about John Connor, or what he and Flickinger and his three assistants had heard from the young man, or about the two terminators they had happened to meet. Not only did he make this decision, but in the end the man in Brewster overpowered the military man. He did not allow himself to be ungrateful to these creatures after all they had done.

T-850, he knew, had saved his daughter and John Connor from T-X, who had been sent to kill them. Well, she herself, voluntarily going over to the side of people, did something that could not be assessed. So the general left the machines to their own fate. Flickinger and his assistants also agreed not to tell anyone, and Brewster knew they would keep their word, not out of fear of any kind of punishment, but simply as decent people.

It was not easy for John and Kate to part with these machines, especially John, to a certain extent. But the decision to let them go was certainly the right one, and he knew it. Kate, who commanded T-850, ordered him to transfer to T-X in view of the end of the main mission, after which the two terminators left the Edwards together, in the same vehicle. It was Flickinger's personal car, and they had agreed that two terminators would drive it to Los Angeles, and that Tony would later find his Ford in a multi-level parking lot near his home.

Well, before that, people, especially Kate, had to overcome their prejudice and say words of gratitude to T-X. No matter how the girl felt about her, she couldn't help but admit that she now owed her life to the one she had previously hated and wanted to destroy, the one who had once killed the people closest to Kate, and burned her alive. It's a strange feeling. Still, she found the strength to sincerely say, "Thank you!" looking straight into the robot's eyes. She just nodded in response, and it was very human.

"So what do you plan to do next?" John Connor asked curiously.

The terminators exchanged silent glances, after which T-X replied, "We're going to go around the United States and look at every aspect of people's lives to fill in the data gaps."

It must have been her idea, and T-850 was just following the commands of its former adversary. He didn't care what he did. The terminator needs a goal. Without it, he's useless.

"You're going to travel, but what about your IDs?"

Kate's question turned out to be reasonable, and it seemed to give T-X and T-850 pause.

"Is it really necessary?" Terminator asked seriously.

"Well, without them, you'd probably get into trouble, especially with the police," John replied, taking turns looking at him and his "girlfriend" and then good-naturedly scolding the robots.

"Oh, you electronic brains! Such a simple thing was missed! And be famous for your advanced artificial intelligences!"

"The goal of infiltration into human society is always short-term for us and does not imply the presence of documents," T-850 said.

"I know, I know, you don't have to have an ID card to eliminate people," the guy said sadly, remembering the T-800 and T-1000 that had hunted him and his mother.

"Where can we get IDs?" T-X asked bluntly.

"Maybe…" Kate said timidly, looking at her father, but he shook his head.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it!" Brewster sighed with genuine regret. "It will not be possible to do this officially — there will be too many questions, and I simply do not know what kind of people who are engaged in the production of documents illegally..."

That's where John came to the rescue again.

"My mother had a friend, Enrique Salceda, a Guatemalan who sold weapons... We took refuge many times in the camp where he lived with his family, near the border with Mexico, northwest of Calexico. After my mother's death, I saw him a couple more times and, as far as I know, his nephew Carlos is just dealing with the paperwork... He lives, or rather, he lived... Now I don't know... in San Diego..."

"Carlos Salceda. Okay, we'll find him. Thank you."

The last word was given by T-X with a slight delay.

"Hey, wait, it's going to be expensive. Do you have money?"

"We'll find them."

"But where?" Rob a bank?" Kate asked excitedly.

"No, we don't go to the bank."

There was no need for an explanation, so John just said, "All right, it's up to you. I hope you don't at least kill anyone in the process... I'm going to write a note to Carlos and Enrique asking them to be friendly to you and try to help..."

It only took him a couple of minutes — the general provided him with paper, his trademark pen, and even allowed Connor to sit at his desk.

When he had finished writing, John handed over a notebook of T-850 that sat closest to him. He was about to hold out his hand, but T-X was the first to grab the scrap of paper and clutch it in her delicate (but so deadly under certain circumstances!) fist, as well as the three hundred dollars in cash that Kate had lent to the terminators. For expenses for the first time.

The machines said goodbye to humans, with the exception of Tony Flickinger, who escorted them to the parking lot to his car. T-850 took the wheel, and T-X sat in the passenger seat next to him. At the checkpoint, the Ford was released without further ado at the call of General Brewster. Even the mandatory inspection of the cabin, as provided for by the rules of the access regime, was not carried out by the security guards. At the same time, the two burly sentries again could not restrain their friendly smiles at the sight of the charming blonde, and one of them even tried to strike up a short conversation with her while the car stood waiting for the barrier to be raised.

"You're leaving us, Miss— uh... Campbell?" The man asked, leaning over the side window, which was half down.

At the same time, he was not at all embarrassed by the presence of the brutal "Tom Mason" nearby. Terminator, in turn, also turned his head to the military man, as if the question was addressed to him as well.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I have urgent business," the girl replied.

"I see... But will we see you again? Is there any hope?"

"Possibly."

"Well... Take care!" The soldier asked, addressing her, and only nodded to Terminator.

Once outside the base, the machines drove in silence for a while. In every sense. They were not required to communicate verbally, but there was not even an exchange of messages between radio modems. Twenty minutes later, however, T-X broke the silence.

T-X: "A new task: to prepare for breaking into a guarded facility and colliding with people. The exact number is unknown. The probability of armed resistance is more than 90 percent."

T-850: "What is the purpose of the operation?"

Julia, in response, forwarded to him the information she had just received.

T-X was going to do one thing, so the help of her new partner came in handy. After all, she promised Juanita Ramirez to force the gangsters from the Bloody Mexican Warriors gang to confess that they were the ones who framed her husband. And she wasn't going to hesitate. It was not difficult to find out where the most prominent members of the group, including their leader, lived and spent their time: T-X simply connected to the network of the Los Angeles Police Department.

T-850 (after analyzing the data): "I'm not programmed to kill people."

T-X: "I know. But it is not planned. We will only incapacitate them without a lethal outcome. As a last resort, I take care of the elimination of particularly aggressive individuals."

T-850: "We need firearms. Options: The Valley of Peace Cemetery, where a sufficient arsenal is stored in a coffin under the guise of Sarah Connor's body, or any gun store."

Terminatrix began to consider these options, but soon gave a negative answer.

T-X: "No, the cemetery is too far away, and you don't want to be in the store. Based on the information I received from John Connor, I come to the conclusion that it is impossible to get a gun without documents and money. The use of force is almost 100% likely to entail a conflict with the police. This will lead to unmasking and contradicts the main goal: deep penetration into human society. For the same reason, I don't want to use my built-in weapons unless absolutely necessary."

T-850: "In that case, the only thing left to do is to use the enemy's weapons. But this reduces the effectiveness of the assault on the object at the initial stage."

T-X: "I agree. Therefore, we will not act so explicitly..."

Terminatrix didn't finish her sentence, so the cyborg even turned his head in her direction.

T-850: "What are you up to?"

T-X's face showed the same grin that had become a kind of trademark...

...West Hollywood was the first possible home of the Bloody Mexican Warriors, the Oasis nightclub. According to information read by T-X from the police database, the club belonged to the ringleader himself, or, as he liked to call himself, the "supreme warrior" Fernando Guerrero, as well as his younger brother Raul.

The establishment operated quite legally and was one of many that created an honest and respectable entertainment business for the Guerrero brothers' underground empire. In fact, it was often in the Oasis, in the office of Raul, who is listed as its director, that some of the largest deals in the sale of cocaine and other drugs in the entire West Coast of the United States took place. But this evening, the younger Guerrero was taking a break from business, having fun in the circle of members of the group who were especially close to him, as well as the main Warriors of elite call girls, who were always ready to brighten up their leisure time.

At some point, the man noticed a gorgeous blonde woman in a tight-fitting black dress tied at the waist with a decorative belt walking past the dance floor. The curled ends of her hair were loose over her bare shoulders, and her expressive green eyes watched Raul with interest. The girl sat down at the bar and, after ordering something to drink, turned her gaze back to Guerrero and his company.

Raul, in turn, not at all embarrassed by the reaction of his friends, devoured the blonde with his eyes. "Pretty face," the man thought to himself. "Though, not only face..." He looked down, appreciating the girl's appetizing curves, especially her gorgeous bust, and felt his hands begging to squeeze it with his strong fingers. Falling for beautiful women and not used to rejection from them, the younger brother of the leader of the Bloody Mexican Warriors immediately burned with a desire to get acquainted with this beauty.

Raul hastened to put his plan into action. To the bewildered exclamations of his friends and the two girls who embraced him, whom the man only waved off like annoying flies, he got up and with a slightly staggering gait (after a few shots of tequila) headed towards the blonde. Climbing up on a nearby chair, the Mexican Don Juan boldly launched an attack on the object of his affection.

"Hello. Is this your first time in our club? I haven't seen you here before."

"Hello. Yes you are right. My friends told me about it many times, and I finally decided to go..."

"That's right. Maybe I know them?"

"Did you say "in our club"? So are you the owner?" Instead of answering, the blonde asked a counter-question. There was a hint of interest in her voice.

"Raul Guerrero, at your service," he nodded.

"Elisa Larsen."

"It's unusual. Are you Norwegian?"

"On my father's side, and on my mother's side, I'm German."

"Well, do you like it here, Eliza?"

"Yes, it's very beautiful here..."

The girl looked around and then looked back at her interlocutor.

"And it's even more beautiful in the presence of a charming girl like you," the self-assured seducer weaved his net.

"Thank you," the beautiful woman looked away, a little embarrassed. With a graceful movement of her hand, she took the martini glass and took a small sip.

"If you'd like, I could give you a tour. Show everything, including those rooms where ordinary guests are not allowed to enter..."

Raul himself had little idea of what he was saying and doing. If he had been sober, he would never have proposed such a thing to a stranger — after all, caution is paramount in their business. Although, for the sake of fairness, it must be added that somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, dulled by drinking, there was a suspicion: this girl could be sent by the police or by his and his brother's competitors. She can make him drunk, frame him, and even hand him over to assassins. But his animal instincts were getting the better of him — Raul wanted this woman, he wanted this woman right now. Right now. And nothing in the whole world can stop him. In addition, as is often the case with people endowed with power and wealth, Guerrero eventually came to believe in his exceptionalism and untouchability. Well, this time, his inflated self-confidence will cost him dearly...

Before Elisa could reply, they were approached by one of Raul's confidants, his "right hand," who was disturbed by the abrupt departure of the patron. He didn't drink much, so he could look at the blonde objectively, but with even more suspicion.

"Is everything alright, Raul? The girls ask, are you going to come back to us?"

"Go away! I'm busy," the disturbed seducer snapped back. He was infuriated that someone was stopping him from pursuing Eliza, and only her presence prevented him from unleashing his aggression on his innocent friend.

"Okay, I'm sorry," the man looked at Eliza suspiciously once more and hurried away.

"Your friends seem upset that you left them for me, Raul," the girl remarked.

"Forget about them! And let's move on to 'you'. So how about a guided tour?"

"It's better to do it some other time. I'm afraid I have to go now!"

"Then I could see you off… and we could have had an equally interesting time..." Guerrero, of course, was not going to miss his "prey", so he made such a blatant hint.

Eliza thought for a few seconds, then smiled and said, "I'm sure we're going to have a great time."

"Then let's go quickly!"

Raul felt the space in his pants shrinking catastrophically.

"Wait a second, I have to pay—" She looked inquiringly at the bartender and the martini glass, which was still almost full.

"No need, let it be at my expense." Guerrero waved his hand, burning with desire. He put his arm around the girl's waist and led her towards the service exit, from where the path led to a closed parking lot, where only the cars of the owners and especially dear guests could be.

Raul led Elisa to his tuned white Mercedes-Benz R230 and, opening the passenger door, pointed invitingly to the seat.

"Please!"

The girl, in turn, looked at the car appraisingly and praised the gentleman for his choice, "I like this car!"

The car, roaring with a powerful engine, confidently rushed out of the alley to the nearest highway...

...Thirty-two minutes and thirteen seconds later, the same Mercedes drove into another alley, dark and inconspicuous, near a multi-level parking lot. There was T-850 in his biker outfit and not even taking off his black glasses, despite the fact that it was almost dark outside.

Raul Guerrero got out of the car, after which he and Terminator approached the trunk of the car. He lifted the lid, revealing another Raul lying unconscious. T-850, along with the second Guerrero, calmly, without saying a word, pulled the man out and laid him on the asphalt, and then tied him up with a strong rope, and sealed his mouth tightly with tape (Terminator managed to get hold of these things with the money he received from Catherine Brewster after driving Tony Flickinger's car into the parking lot).

Then the body of the prisoner, who had not regained consciousness, was shoved back into the trunk, and the fake Raul, whose appearance perfectly imitated T-X, sat in the cabin together with T-850. The trip continued.

Their destination was now the Guerrero brothers' mansion in the Bel Air area. A few hundred meters short of it, T-X dropped off Terminator, who had found a pistol in the glove compartment. Then, according to the plan, under the guise of Raul, she penetrated into the territory of a well-guarded area and, loitering everywhere, managed to perfectly study the situation, the location of guard posts, buildings, what the militants subordinate to Guerrero were armed with.

But the most important thing was what T-X had found in Raul's laptop: a lot of valuable information about the shady dealings he and his brother had been up to. Of course, the brothers kept the most secret materials only on paper in a seven-locked safe, but even what the female robot managed to find out was enough to deal a fatal blow to the Guerrero family. Especially successful was the presence of correspondence with the executors in the case of poor Ramon Sanchez, which clearly exposed the entire scheme of the appearance of drugs in his car service.

T-X saved everything she could find on the flash drive and hid it in a drawer for now, intending to retrieve it later. Then, the undiscovered infiltrator went down to the basement, where there were servers responsible for the operation of all the electronics on the estate. A minute or two later, the entire video surveillance system collapsed at once, as well as motion sensors, electronically controlled doors and garage doors were blocked. In the end, the lights also went out, plunging the mansion and everything around it into impenetrable darkness.

And then began what T-X, in a conversation with T-850, called a collision with people and incapacitating them. To do this, the terminators had all the means: super strength and survivability, the ability to see in the dark and the factor of surprise.

Terminator approached the entrance gate and, with only minimal effort, knocked the massive metal structure to the ground. Two militants who were on duty at the checkpoint opened fire on the unknown with an ultrasound, but in the darkness the accuracy of the fire left much to be desired. T-850, for its part, fired four shots from Raul Guerrero's pistol, right in the legs, shattering the guards' kneecaps.

The alarm was raised, the guard dogs barked. Other militants began to run to the shots, but T-850 had already picked up their machine guns from the writhing opponents and met a new portion of enemies fully armed. He didn't kill people, no. But many of them were destined to remain crippled for the rest of their lives.

In parallel with Terminator, T-X was also operating inside the building. She didn't need firearms at all — the metal girl calmly threw people right and left, broke furniture and broke through windows and even walls. T-X didn't care much about the consequences. Yes, she has given herself a directive not to kill people openly. But this primarily concerned the unarmed and those who did not pose any threat. No one will be particularly sorry for these criminals, even if they die from their injuries.

Having dealt with all his henchmen, the terminators took care of the "supreme warrior" Fernando Guerrero himself. As it was night, he slept peacefully in his bed in the arms of his mistress, but was suddenly awakened by the sound of gunshots, screams, and strange thuds, as if someone were breaking down walls.

Brushing aside the screams of the terrified girl (she hid in the bathroom and was the only one in the entire house who was not injured at the hands of the terminators), Fernando, gun in hand, looked first out the bedroom window and then out into the hallway, trying to figure out what was happening. To his surprise, neither the phone nor the lights worked. And it was impossible to get through to any of the subordinates on their cell phones. Something extraordinary was clearly happening. But what? A police assault? An attack by an enemy group? Guerrero, a man who is not a timid man, was a little shaky this time.

And he was even more frightened when Terminator caught him in the garage where Fernando was trying to get into the car and simply sneak out of the war zone. T-850 lifted him by the scruff of the neck like a puppy and held him off the floor at a distance of 1.5 feet.

"Who are you? What do you need?"

Terminator was silent, looming like a cliff over the "supreme warrior."

"Take the money, do you hear? I've got a lot in the safe upstairs! Take everything, just let me go!" Guerrero squealed like a pig about to be slaughtered.

Suddenly, the lights came on, and his younger brother came down into the room with a pistol in his hand. A triumphant smile played on Raul's face. Fernando, who had been frozen for a moment with his mouth open, the next moment burst into a torrent of abuse in the direction of his nearest relative.

"Oh, you son of a bitch! Bastard! Did you do that?! Did you decide to get rid of me and take everything into your own hands?! I've always suspected… Burn in hell, you cunning bastard!"

"Finish him!" Raul ordered, addressing Terminator. Obediently, he hit Guerrero on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol, after which he indifferently threw the body on the floor.

Then both machines went upstairs to the office of the eldest of the brothers, where they took a little more than five hundred thousand dollars in cash and folders with compromising evidence on both Guerreros from the safe, then T-X took the cherished flash drive, after which the terminators again went down to the garage. There they took the half-dead real Raul out of the trunk of the Mercedes, untied him and, having knocked him out again in the same way as his brother, left him lying next to the car. A little to the side, they neatly placed the folders with documents snatched from the safe, and on them was a flash drive.

From the mobile phone of the youngest of the brothers, Terminatrix called 911 and in an altered voice, in which neither male nor female timbre could be distinguished, reported what had happened. She then dialed another number, Detective James Cole of the Gang and Narcotics Division. It was not the first year that he investigated the criminal business of the Guerrero family, but due to the extensive connections of the latter in high spheres, without much success.

Awakened by the nasty tinkling of the phone, the man did not immediately pick up the phone, hoping that soon the caller would get bored, and the device would fall silent, and he himself would be able to return to the kingdom of Morpheus. But the machine kept ringing, someone was anxious to hear the detective at this late hour.

After muttering a few curses, Cole nevertheless lit the night light and lazily picked up the phone.

"Hello! What the hell do you need at this hour?"

"Detective Cole?"

The voice on the receiver seemed strange to him: neither male nor female, as if artificially modeled. However, Jim, who had barely woken up, could have made a mistake.

"Oh yes, it's me... Who's talking?"

"There's just been an attack on the estate of the Guerrero brothers, whom you know. Hurry up and come here — you will find a lot of interesting things for yourself—"

"What?! What are you talking about?! What attack…?"

"Hurry up, detective!"

"Hey, hello—"

But on the other end, they already hung up the phone. Jim Cole fought the temptation to forget about the strange conversation he had just had and stay in bed, but the innate curiosity that had led him to join the police force won out.

James got up, walked to the bathroom, washed his face, then got dressed, and without even drinking his coffee, rushed to the designated place.

And the terminators, having loaded the bag with money into a silver Chrysler, got into the car and safely left the territory of the Guerrero estate. As the car drove out of the gate, T-X reverted to her original form as a woman in a Gucci leather pantsuit. She was smiling, satisfied, if you can call it that.

But not everything was done to successfully complete the mission, so the machines went straight from the area where Guerrero's mansion was located to a completely different part of the city — the neighborhoods of the poor. As her partner drove the car, T-X counted the pot they had broken. She separated $100,000 and put it in a black plastic bag. And when they arrived, Julia took it and left it under the door of Juanita Ramirez's apartment, along with a note: "There's no mistake here — this money is for you. Use them wisely."

The girl, who was worried about her husband, could not sleep, so she quickly approached, responding to the knock. But there was no one outside. Only the package, which made Juanita speechless when she opened it. She didn't know what to think.