T2 - 02 - The New John Connor Chronicles - An Evil Hour

by Russell Blackford

"Let's have a look at the tapes," Samantha said. "We're not doing much good here."

  "All right. I'll get Vicki to arrange it." He put his head round the corner to speak with his secretary. Vicki Albano was a young-looking forty-year-old woman with a pageboy haircut and bright red fingernails. She knew his professional needs backwards. He explained what he wanted, knowing she'd have it organized in minutes. "Leave it to me, Jack," she said sweetly. He returned to Samantha. "Okay, Sam, what's your view on the next step? Rosanna wants to meet with us. I told her, okay—if she can come alone. But that won't be acceptable to the Connors."

  "How violent do you think they are? They haven't killed anybody, have they? Why don't we have a meeting that includes everyone? We'll go with enough force to protect ourselves."

  "Maybe. What about the other two-Charles and Oscar?"

  "Let's keep them stewing. We'll do our own investigations, then confront them again. They can wait until tomorrow."

  "They won't like it."

  "Let them hate us. What are they going to do?" "All right, we'll talk about it again. I don't mind letting them stew, but I'm not sure I want to talk with Sarah Connor and her crazy son. Their story is getting madder, going by Rosanna's version."

  Samantha shrugged. "We'll see how it goes." Five minutes later, Vicki transferred an internal call saying that they could view the digitized version of the surveillance tapes from Colorado Springs. It was all arranged.

  On the way out, Jack said, "Keep Charles and Oscar away from me. I don't want to see them today. And confirm that I want that training room-all evening."

  "Sure, Jack," Vicki said brightly. She seemed even more cheerful than usual today, despite everything that was happening.

  "Start making some arrangements for us to go out there. We'll need some armed protection, just in case. I'll finalize it when we get back."

  Vicki made a handwritten note, and smiled. "That's no problem."

  Jack glanced at Samantha, then back at Vicki. "Call me superstitious if you like, but don't get me any of the guards we used last night with the Cyberdyne people. I just have a bad feeling about it."

  "Okay, I'll make sure of that."

  When Jack and Samantha left Jack's outer office, heading down the corridor to the nearest flight of stairs, Vicki waited a full minute, just in ease they returned. There was always the possibility they'd forgotten something.

  Once the minute was up, she made an internal call.

  "Yes," a male voice said.

  "Steve?" Vicki said.

  "Yeah?"

  "Jack doesn't trust you. He must suspect something."

  "How could he?"

  "Rosanna Monk must have scared him when she called. He doesn't want anyone who met with them last night involved today, when they meet with her."

  "A lot of good that'll do him."

  Vicki laughed. "I know. We'll find someone else to go with him and Samantha." She meant someone else that Charles Layton had seen. She knew how hard he'd worked for the sake of Skynet; so would she, now that the ball was in her hands. She was glad that Oscar and Charles had visited her — and Charles had made it all so clear. "Can you organize it?"

  "It shouldn't be any sort of problem." She hung up, then made another call. A female voice said, "Good morning, National Hotel here. How can I help you?"

  "Please put me through to Oscar Cruz's room."

  "Connecting."

  Oscar answered, sounding tired. Vicki said, "Everything's coming together."

  "Is all this getting to you, Jack?" Samantha said. They took the stairs rather than waiting for an elevator. "If you really don't trust those guys, you might as well not trust anyone—we don't know where Charles and Oscar went last night, after we left them, or who they got to. We can't even operate if everyone in Washington is under suspicion."

  "Sure," Jack said, making a gesture to say after you. mo floors up, they headed for the video room. "You're absolutely right, Sam, and Rosanna's story is crazy. Still, it can't hurt restricting who we deal with. If there's any-think at all in what she's saying, at least that's one group of people we won't have to worry about."

  Mack, if there's anything at all in what she's saying, we might as well give up right now. We're probably doomed. Half the people in this building might be plotting against us, for all we know."

  "Yeah, I know." He knocked, and opened a plain wooden door. "It's not such a great prospect, huh?" They settled down to watch the video of what had happened in Colorado Springs, which was hours of tape, taken by numerous cameras. The more Jack saw, the scarier it looked, the more he realized he needed to see the entire thing, or all the footage where the Connors were actually present, before he met with Layton and Cruz. This was frightening stuff. He needed to understand what he was seeing.

  "Stop there," Samantha said, after an hour. Jack pressed his remote to freeze the image. "What's like some kind of humanoid creature fighting the Connors and their accomplices, who seemed to have superhuman athleticism and skills,

  "We really need to analyze this," he said. ttI can see what Dean was talking about. But what the hell is this version? It's not the whole thing, and it's not the edited version he promised. What's wrong with that man?"

  There seemed to be no footage from the basement, and nothing that showed how one of the Connors' accomplices had died on the fourth floor. He wondered whether there really was some kind of plot, deliberately frustrating their efforts. No, that was crazy. It was just the confusion of events moving too fast He'd call Dean, and chew him out-perhaps he should be replaced, as the Secretary had suggested. Dean was a liability.

  VIRGINIA

  Again, Rosanna made the call, with Eve present to play the role of Oscar Cruz if need be.

  As Rosanna spoke to Reed it became clear that he was willing to meet them all. He would have armed guards, though he must know that this was useless, if he'd understood anything at all. And, John realized, he must know that they knew that

  The underlying message was: He trusted them not to be violent

  John supposed that Reed could surround any building with scores of police, and make it difficult to escape, so that was some incentive not to create violence. Perhaps they were even walking into a trap, but they had to take the risk. He knew what the Specialists could do-and what a T-800 Terminator could do. If Eve was equally powerful, as she'd said, they had a surprise for anyone who tried to stop them.

  Then he thought about it some more. The threat was not to them, it was to Reed himself. However cautious he might be, once he stepped outside of the Pentagon he was in serious trouble. Possibly, he was doomed.

  "Ask him what time he'll be leaving for our meeting," John said in a whisper.

  Rosanna nodded, not querying it, and asked the question. "He says 4:30," she whispered back.

  "Okay, tell him it's fine."

  Rosanna looked amused to be receiving these orders, but she went along with them. All those years of training to be a leader had given John a feel for this. The others were all smart, too, and he'd consult them back in the car. But it was becoming clear to him. "We've got to get to the Pentagon," he said to Rosanna, when she put the phone down. "By 4:30."

  "What about our meeting?"

  "Forget it. There won't be any meeting."

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  Jack and Samantha left the Pentagon's Mall entrance, and descended the steps to a waiting black sedan. The driver was a short, burly man with red hair who'd driven them once or twice before on journeys involving high security. With him was a tall black man in his twenties whom Jack hadn't seen before. Jack felt irrationally safe, working with men who hadn't been involved last night Whatever truth there might have been in Rosanna's crazy claims-making all allowances that she was onto some-thing-Layton and Cruz could not have gotten to every agent in Washington. Nor could they have arranged for just the right men to pick him up.

  He felt satisfied with himself: He'd given Dean a piece of his mind, and now he'd get to the bottom of what was driving R
osanna and the Connors. Soon, the puzzle would be solved, then they'd make some hard decisions. He was smiling to himself as he opened the door for Samantha, then climbed in after her. The tall black guy took the front passenger seat, and they drove out of there smoothly. Give it two hours, he thought, and they'd know a lot more. He was actually looking forward to this meeting.

  "It's been a lovely day," the driver observed, as they headed for Arlington Bridge to cross the Potomac River.

  "I suppose it has been," Jack said with a laugh. "I've hardly had time to notice."

  As they crossed the river, another black sedan pulled up beside them, then another pulled out in front, one hundred yards ahead, as they headed north up Twenty-third Street, crossing Constitution Avenue. The driver took a left hand turn, heading in the direction of the Kennedy Center and the notorious Watergate Hotel. I

  "Hey, where are we going?" Jack said. They were supposed to continue north, through the Morgan Banks district, not leave

  Twenty-third Street

  . "What's going on? This isn't the way." 1

  "You have an appointment with the Cyberdyne management," the driver said.

  "No, we don't." In one terrible second, it dawned on Jack that this was not some mistake. What Rosanna had

  told him was true after all. His felt his heart sink in his chest. Why hadn't he taken her seriously? She'd never been wrong before.

  It had just seemed so incredible. He wasn't armed, and neither was Samantha. These guys in the front seat were supposed to provide protection-them and the guards and police who were supposedly meeting them. He could try to wrest control of the car, but what good was that? "Please don't do anything rash," the driver said. Samantha reached for her handbag, but the tall black guy turned round from the front, a Beretta pistol in his right hand. "Just keep calm, folks. Don't go reaching for any weapons, or your cellphone if that's what you're af-ter ma'am. There's nothing you can do right now, so en-joy the ride."

  Jack looked round, trying to size up the situation. A third black sedan had joined their escort, and now a police car joined in; the two officers seated in front were doubtless well armed. "You have police in on this?" Samantha.

  "There are lots of people involved," the driver said happily. He took another turn, spinning the wheel with one hand; he had the easy confidence of a man who knew just what he was doing. "Sit back, make yourselves comfortable. You won't come to any harm." "Not at all," the black man said. "This is for your own good." Just ahead on the right was the entrance to a park lot, downward-sloping ramp blocked off by more police.

  The sedan in front of them veered toward the entrance, and a female motorcycle cop waved it through. Their own driver followed, as Samantha said, "I don't believe this."

  The rest of the convoy followed them down the ramp.

  "Don't worry at all," the driver said. "You're getting the wrong idea. Everything will soon seem easier. Mr. Layton will help you understand,"

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  WASHINGTON, D.C AUGUST 2001

  It was Jade's turn at the wheel. She pulled up at a public phone near Arlington Cemetery, and Eve got out, leaving the others in the car. Rosanna had given the Terminator the number for Jack Reed's office. Eve dialed it quickly, and Reed's secretary answered. "Mr. Reed's office. Can I help you?"

  Eve said, using Charles Layton's voice this time, “Vicki?”

  "Yes. Is that Mr. Layton?"

  "Have they left, Vicki? We're waiting for them."

  “Just one minute ago," the woman said, sounding puzzled. "You shouldn't be expecting them yet"

  "Have you made the proper arrangements? Does everyone know where to go?"

  "Of course, Mr. Layton. Is everything all right? "

  The Terminator had an insufficient model of Layton's patterns. It considered possible responses, then said, “Yes. It is so far."

  "Why are you so worried? I wouldn't let you down."

  "Where did you tell them to go? This is important What address did you give?"

  "Let me just check," Vicki said. Eve had learned to decode such expressions of human emotions. Even leading a hermit's existence, the Terminator had gained much knowledge in seventeen years. Vicki sounded puzzled, but not yet suspicious. She gave the address of a parking garage in M Street, a block from the C & O Canal.

  "That is correct."

  "Well, I could hardly-"

  Eve slammed down the phone. Back in the car, the Terminator said, "John was right. Reed's secretary has been reprogrammed."

  "I knew it!" John said. "That's just what I would have done."

  "Head north," Eve said, "across the river."

  They'd driven down four sets of ramps, to a floor that had more police cars. There were five in all, counting the one that was following behind. Another black government car was already parked here, and the one that had gone ahead of them now pulled up. Adding the other cars the had helped to box them in en route, there were ten cars involved, plus the police outside, directing traffic. About two dozen people in all, most of them down here waiting The driver parked, pulling on the handbrake. "Get out of the car, then walk over to our friends."

  All these police and government cars were scattered randomly in the driving lanes. The actual parking bays were full of ordinary vehicles: sedans, wagons, SUVs in various colors. The police had the whole garage effectively blocked off from customers; right now there must be some very frustrated people unable to get back to their vehicles. There would doubtless be complaints, but Jack supposed the cops could easily fabricate some story-a bomb scare, perhaps, or some other threat of violence. He had a feeling this wouldn't take long. There was nothing he could do to stretch it out. Bottom line: He and Samantha were helpless, left with no choices.

  They did as they were told, walking to a group that included Layton and Cruz-one in a gray suit, the other in tailored trousers and a tweed jacket. The two men from the car followed them over; both now had M9 pistols in their hands. "It wouldn't be good if I had to use this," their driver said, gesturing with the barrel.

  Samantha glared at him. "You wouldn't dare. You can't afford to have us die."

  "Nothing has to be fatal. Talk to Mr. Layton and Mr. Cruz."

  The police and dark-suited government people surrounding Layton and Cruz all had guns drawn, ready to fire. Among them were the four men from last night, all of those who'd gone with Jack and Samantha from the restaurant. One of them-Steve-gave an unpleasant grin. "Ms. Jones," he said. "Good to see you ma'am. You, too, Mr. Reed."

  The remaining cars emptied. At a moment's notice, this whole area could be turned into a storm of gunfire, as surely as if someone had come here armed with a military assault rifle set on auto. There was no way to escape; even without the guns, it would have been impossible—the odds were twenty to two. Jack looked around instinctively, locating the elevator lobby, in case he needed to make a dash for cover. But that was scarcely a real option. He took a deep breath: Time to find out just what the Cyberdyne people wanted.

  "Thank you for coming here," Layton said. He'd always been menacing, the way he talked to people, but so much more now.

  "Just what the hell do you want?" Jack said.

  "I'm not one for long explanations, and they're not necessary in this case. I can make you understand another way."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Be patient, Jack. This will only take a minute." Lay-ton looked from Jack to Samantha. "Who first? Jack, I think it should be you."

  Jack was almost trembling with fear and anger. Despite the odds, he had to do something. When Layton reached out to touch him, he slapped the man's hand away-but Layton responded suddenly, with astonishing swiftness and strength, knocking him to the hard concrete floor. Jack saw stars before his eyes; he rolled aside, realizing he was too old. But what had got into Layton? The man was in his sixties; he shouldn't be capable of this. Something had turned him into a highly-strung killing machine.

  As he got unsteadily to his fee
t, Samantha ran-but Cruz snapped out a hand and caught her easily. He seized her by one arm and almost yanked her off her feet.

  Jack tried to clear his head, feeling the bruises where his hip and upper arm had collided with the floor. "Just a minute," he said. "Please." But Layton moved as if shot from a cannon. This was absurd, Jack thought, as Layton forced him against a concrete pillar. He was still a strong man, being pummeled by this old guy from Cyberdyne. It couldn't be happening. With incredible strength, Layton gripped him with one hand at the back of the neck. Try as he might, Jack could make no impact: Layton's body seemed rigid as iron. He showed no pain, even from powerful body blows.

  "You'll be happier in a moment," Layton said. He damped his other hand across Jack's face. "Accept the experience."

  John saw the garage entrance from fifty yards away, but Jade was already onto it. She scarcely slowed down as she swerved off the road, riding up over the curb. She pulled down hard on the steering, then straightened out the wheels. A motorcycle cop who'd been blocking the entrance ran for cover as their SUV fishtailed, bounced over a speed hump, then leaped down the first of a series of ramps.

  A shot rang out behind, and the round glanced off the SUVs side, but Jade braked hard, approaching an acute turn into the next ramp. She got them round it, then accelerated to the bottom of the next ramp... then took another, and another, not letting a second go to waste.

  Again she was quicker than anyone else, seeing the parked police cruisers and black government sedans on the next floor down. She turned the wheel, pushed down hard on the accelerator, and drove them quickly over another speed hump, the SUV bouncing, so John's head almost struck the ceiling, his stomach turning backflips under his ribcage.

  "Hold on, please," Jade said, as they cleared yet another hump, then charged at thirty mph toward the cars parked in the driving lanes. She skidded around a parked police car, scraping against the projecting front of a long, white sedan parked in one of the bays. Shots came from in front of them, as the SUV zigzagged, Jade retaining control while making them an erratic target. At last, she slammed down hard on the brake, as they rammed one of the government cars, sending the SUV spinning through 270°.