Fic - Sacrifices (5/7)
Title: Sacrifices (5/7)
Rating: R: violence, harsh language, you probably know the drill by now.
Warning: The story contains the death of a young child right at the outset, and later scenes of violence involving a child which some people may find distressing.
~ ~ ~
Sacrifices 5/7
~ ~ ~
“About fucking time.”
Danny glanced to his right, towards the computer engineer who sat monitoring the progress they were making. Wallace was eating an apple, the juice running down his chin as he chewed. He smiled at Danny and pointed with the fruit in his hand.
“Should make things run a bit smoother now.”
Danny forced himself to follow Wallace’s gesture, to focus on the lines of code passing rapidly across Cain’s interface as the intelligence wormed its way into the Turk and began to assimilate it into its own system. Everything was running smoothly, and only weeks ago this moment would have been the pinnacle of Danny’s achievements with Kaliba - the moment his father had strived for but never lived to see realized. Danny nodded and smiled at Wallace, who took another bite of his apple and grinned with peel stuck in his teeth before refocusing his attention on his computer.
Turning away before his smile slipped, Danny forced himself to look back towards the screen on his left, where Savannah Weaver was cradling her arm and weeping uncontrollably. The machine sat less than a yard away from her, the implicit warning behind its presence plain for John Henry to read. Danny checked his watch; Brooks would be in soon to relieve him. He needed a shower and something to eat, and he desperately needed to sleep, but most of all he needed Cain and Kristina as distracted as they currently were, and he needed them to stay that way for as long as possible.
~ ~ ~
For such a late hour, the library was surprisingly busy. Students rushing to meet deadlines were sitting in the aisles with books strewn around them, having tried and failed to write their papers using Wikipedia alone. Danny stepped carefully around them and made his way to the computer desks. He waited patiently for a free terminal and then entered the log-in code from his ID card. Even though he had joined the library under a false name and address, he was unwilling to remain online for any longer than was absolutely necessary, so he wasted no time in bringing up the web page he needed.
At the moment Cain was running blind. With his systems so laden with data from the Turk, everything else had been shut down or pared to an absolute minimum. There were no searches running, no monitoring of CCTV or transmissions from the emergency services. It gave Danny a window of opportunity, but that window was an extremely transient one and he had no real way of predicting exactly when it would close.
The main forum at Truthseekers.net loaded laboriously, its graphic-heavy interface posing problems for the bargain-basement internet connection supplied by the library. He hovered the cursor impatiently over the link he wanted, clicking it as soon as it became available. The thread discussing Sarah Connor stuttered open and he chose the new message option. He typed quickly, his message already carefully prepared, and then reread the cryptic wording back to himself, unsure whether it would draw the attention of the right people but at a loss as to what else he could do. Paranoia forced him to check around himself before he hit send, but no one was paying him any attention and he clicked the button to submit the message before he lost his nerve. It appeared immediately as an anonymous comment, tacked onto a lively discussion about a possible sighting of Connor working behind a bar in Wisconsin. Without waiting to see whether anyone replied to him, he shut down the browser and logged off from the terminal. A quick glance at the time told him he had six hours before he was due back at the lab. If everything went according to plan, he could afford to allow himself a couple of hours to eat and sleep. That would be the easy part. What he planned to do with the remainder of the time was going to be anything but easy.
~ ~ ~
The white lines were eerily hypnotic: bright for a second and then disappearing into the darkness as they passed beyond the light of the truck’s high beams. Sarah blinked, yawned, and forced her eyes wide in an attempt to stay awake. Beside her Derek snored peacefully, and she envied him for the respite she hadn’t managed herself when he had taken his turn to drive. Cool air drifted in as she lowered the window an inch. The draft tickled against her cheek, blowing a strand of hair lazily across her face. She moved her hand to tuck it back behind her ear, but it quickly worked its way free again. Immediately irritated, she slapped the control to close the window.
“Sarah?”
She looked to her right, to see Derek frowning at her in confusion.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
“I was awake.” His voice was indignant.
She laughed quietly. “You were snoring.”
“That’s a lie. I don’t snore.” His teeth flashed white as he grinned.
“Hmm.” She made her noncommittal reply sound as skeptical as she possibly could, and then bit back another yawn.
“You want to swap over?”
She shook her head. “No, I want to get home. We’re only a couple of hours out.”
“You’ve not slept.”
“Yeah, well,” she rolled her eyes at him, “no change there then.”
They had spent hours cooped up in the truck, travelling and then sitting watching the two addresses Makin had given them. The second place had been completely abandoned. The man living next door, slurping cheap beer from a bottle while his son toddled around in a soiled diaper, had bitched that its overgrown yard and rundown appearance brought the value of his own property down, but had told them nothing useful. Breaking in through a back window had been easy, but nothing had been left behind and none of the rooms held any clues as to what the house had been used for.
Sarah shifted in her seat and rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. She was exhausted and sore, and as she pushed down on the gas she made plans for a hot bath followed by as much sleep as she could manage. When she dropped her hand back to the wheel, she felt Derek’s fingers moving gently where hers had left off. She smiled, pushing back against him, and he increased the pressure to elicit a soft moan of appreciation from her.
“We could use some gas,” he said, “and coffee wouldn’t be a bad idea if we’re pushing through.”
“Mmm.” She nodded, eyes scanning the horizon for the glaring neon signage traditionally favored by gas stations. “I’ll pull over when I can.”
He let his hand linger beneath her hair for a couple more seconds before moving it away. Minutes passed by in comfortable silence before a garish billboard announced fast food and gas in one mile. She straightened her back, more alert now as she determined not to miss the exit. With her attention so focused on the road, the ringing of her cell phone made her jump.
“Jesus.” She pulled it from her jacket pocket and - having checked the caller ID - hit the button to answer the call. “John, hey. Where are you?”
“Hey, mom.” Even through the crackle of poor reception, she could hear the edge to his voice. “We’re home. Got in about an hour ago.”
John and Cameron had taken the closer two of Makin’s addresses. John had already called to report two empty houses, one of which hadn’t even been considered important enough to lock up.
“Everything okay?” Sarah slowed the truck and saw Derek turn towards her as he picked up on the tension in her question.
“I don’t know. We got an email from Michael. He pulled up a weird post on the forum.”
“The Truthseekers forum?” She checked her mirror, preparing to make the turn for the gas station. “He’s still on there?”
“No, not actively. No, of course not. But he monitors the traffic, and he found something tonight that was odd enough that he forwarded it on to me.”
“What was it?” Dirt and loose gravel crunched beneath the tires as she pulled to a stop in the dimmest corner of the station.
“I think you’re gonna want to see it for yourself.” He sighed. “Okay, mom, I’m gonna send it to the email on your cell.”
“I have email on my cell?” she said, genuinely amazed.
“Shit.” John was laughing, relieved to have an outlet for some of his nervous tension. “Yes, mom, there’s an email facility on your cell. Let me send it and then I’ll talk you through accessing it.”
“Okay.” She shrugged at Derek and indicated her phone. “I have email on this, apparently.”
“No shit.” He considered the task now facing his nephew and winced. “I think we’re gonna need that coffee…”
~ ~ ~
“I can give you Savannah. 5 a.m. DN38416. Only Sarah. DMD.” Derek reread the message out loud. It made no more sense to him than it had the first time around. “Sarah, what the fuck?”
Sarah took her cell phone back from him and studied the screen. Michael had already deleted the message from the forum, so this was the only place it existed now. She had a theory about the origin of the message and she knew that Derek wasn’t going to like it at all. If she was right, the person who had posted it had taken an extraordinary risk in trying to contact her. With some reluctance, she looked up at Derek. It was already 3 a.m. They didn’t have time for the argument that would inevitably follow if what she thought she had deciphered was correct. She took a deep breath.
“I think it’s from Danny Dyson.”
Derek’s eyes widened. He was already shaking his head. “No. Not possible.”
“DMD; Daniel Myles Dyson. Kaliba took Savannah, so it makes sense that he would know her location.”
“And what?” Derek said, his voice rising with incredulity. “He has a sudden change of heart and decides to hand the kid over? Last time we saw him, he seemed pretty happy in his work.”
“I know,” she said softly. The last time she had seen Danny she had been on her knees, her wrists bound to a pipe. He had left her there, after giving her torturer orders to continue.
“Sarah.” Derek took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently. “They don’t always take their shot at redemption, no matter how much you might want them to.”
Danny wasn’t on the wall, she wanted to say. Why wasn’t his name written in blood on the wall? Instead she nodded. “I know that.”
“So you know it’s probably a trap.”
“Yeah.”
“You worked out the location?”
“Think so.”
He nodded. The number had given that away for them both. He fished the truck’s keys from his pocket, resigned to the decision she had undoubtedly already made, and not wanting her to travel the entire journey on her own. “Better get going, then, huh?”
~ ~ ~
The truck came to a smooth stop, its tires cushioned by the dew-damp grass. Derek turned the engine off and stared straight ahead. He had only ever been here once. Grief with which he had finally come to terms was threatening to surface with all of its usual raw fury.
“I have to go down there on my own,” Sarah said, reluctant to break the silence but mindful that time was running short.
He cleared his throat. “I know.”
“Ten minutes. If I’m not back in ten minutes…”
“Come find you.” He nodded.
“No.” She caught and held his gaze. “Get the hell out and get back home.”
He nodded again, fully intending to do nothing of the sort, but then he wasn’t actually planning on letting her go down there on her own, either.
“See you in ten.” She checked the clip in her Glock and climbed out of the truck.
He watched her walk across the grass and then drop out of sight as the embankment dipped low. Opening his own door quietly, he pulled an M40 sniper rifle and a pair of night vision goggles from the trunk. Taking a wide curve around the embankment, he stayed high, cutting around until he was walking the ridge of the hill above the meeting point. With the goggles on, he could see Sarah, the uneven line of stones that she was following, and the solitary figure who was waiting for her at the midway point. When he was satisfied with his position, he slowed his rapid pace and then dropped to lie on his front in the overgrown grass. Carefully, he began to assemble the tripod for the rifle.
~ ~ ~
Sarah’s eyes had slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she closed the last few yards between herself and Danny without stumbling. Her Glock was already out, clasped in both hands and leveled at his chest. In the chill of the predawn, he stood jacketless with his arms away from his sides. She could see that he wasn’t armed, nor was he wearing anything that had a hope in hell of stopping a bullet. She halted level with the last stone bearing the date 1983. Danny was standing beside the first marked 1984. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, both seemingly waiting for respective traps to be sprung, but more seconds passed and nothing happened. The only movement, the only sound, came from the breeze rustling through the untended grass.
Sarah drew in a breath. “How did you know?” It was an effort, but she managed to keep her voice level, to keep the turbulent emotions that were assailing her locked down. It wasn’t what she had intended to open with, but then she hadn’t really expected to reach this point.
Danny looked up at her, pulling his eyes away from the weapon that was perfectly lined up for a kill-shot just to the left of his sternum.
“Agent Auldridge gave me your file. There was a transcript of Reese’s interrogation in there. He gave his rank at the start of the interview.”
“Right.” Her face registered no surprise at the mention of Auldridge. Although she had known of his survival, she had heard nothing of the man since then, but getting shot by a T-888 was usually enough to turn anyone into a believer.
Danny opened his hands, palms up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know of any other location you might recognize.”
“What do you want, Danny?” Her composure regained, she reminded herself that she wasn’t there to swap anecdotes. “Where’s the girl?”
“I don’t have her.” Sarah’s head whipped up, her gun tracking around. She was certain now that she had walked straight into a set-up, but Danny was shaking his head furiously. “No, no, I’m on my own. No one knows I’m here. God.”
His voice shook and she suddenly realized how completely exhausted he looked. In the glow of his flashlight his skin was sallow, his eyes hollow. He looked thin and far older than his years, and he was trying desperately not to cry.
She lowered her gun a fraction. “Why are you here, Danny?” she asked in a softer tone.
“They hurt her.” He closed his eyes and tears ran down his face.
Sarah gave a short, astounded laugh. “You’re working for people and machines who are planning to exterminate the human race, and you’re upset about one child?” She was trembling with anger, barely able to keep her gun steady. “How is she different from Dylan Sterry? From his sister? They weren’t hurt, they were fucking executed.”
He flinched as if she had physically struck him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
She ignored him, acutely aware of the deadline she had set for herself. “You couldn’t get her out on your own?”
“No. I could only get here because Cain’s so preoccupied with the Turk.”
“What the fuck?” She took a step back, her eyes wide with shock. “What did you just say?”
“Cain’s preoccupied with the Turk,” he repeated slowly, trying not to annoy the woman who was still aiming a weapon at him.
She lifted a finger as if to cut off any attempt at extrapolation, and pulled out her cell. The speed dial she hit was answered on the first ring.
“Get down here.” Looking up and to her right, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a dark shape immediately stand up. “This is going to take longer than ten minutes.”
~ ~ ~
“Son of a bitch.” Her gun in a loose grip, forgotten at her side, Sarah was pacing. “Ellison knew, he fucking knew about everything, but he digs up Cromartie and hands it over to a tech company regardless. What the fuck was he thinking?”
“Zeira Corp, wasn’t, isn’t Skynet,” Danny interjected warily.
“And yet it had a T-888 and the Turk,” she retorted, “and look where they’ve both ended up.” She didn’t care whether Ellison’s motives had been pure, or whether Zeira Corp had been working to secure world peace while simultaneously finding a cure for cancer. Ultimately, the company’s endeavors had only resulted in one thing: the furthering of Skynet’s progress.
“So you have an artificial intelligence.” Derek watched Sarah stalk down the line of gravestones as he spoke to Danny. “And they had the Turk, and now you’ve combined them both?” Danny nodded reluctantly. “Jesus.”
Sarah stopped abruptly and spun around. “Did you use your father’s code?”
His head lowered with contrition, Danny nodded again. “I recreated it. I gave them everything, and I didn’t care about the consequences.” His voice broke and he began to cry quietly. “I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t think I can.”
She stared at him as he wept, the predominant part of her wanting to put a bullet through his head, while a smaller part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him. When she glanced at Derek, he looked as conflicted and sickened as she felt. He nodded once, reading in her expression the offer she was about to make.
“We need your help, Danny,” she said, a slight tremor creeping into her voice as she considered not only what they needed to do but what they might actually be able to achieve. “You can stop this.” She caught and held his gaze, forcing herself to square her shoulders even as the enormity of what faced them began to sink in. “We can stop this.”
~ ~ ~
Another piece of paper, another address. This address wasn’t an abandoned safehouse stocked up and locked up for future use. This address held Savannah Weaver, at least one T-888, and the woman responsible for Skynet’s resurrected TDE program.
Sarah heard a cough and a rustle of the sheets as Derek turned over uneasily. She could tell by his breathing that he was asleep, but he was unconsciously responding to every noise or movement she made, and she knew he would probably feel like crap when he awoke. The paper drooped in her hand as her eyes drifted shut. She couldn’t remember when she had last slept, and her head was aching dully. Setting the paper aside, she gave up listening for any sign that John had completed the task they had agreed on. She shuffled down in the bed and curled onto her side, resting her head on the pillow with a soft sigh. It was light outside, the sun hot and bright through the cracks in the drapes. In the yard, the truck’s engine turned over and revved as Cameron worked to correct a fault. Closing her eyes, Sarah did her best to block it all out.
~ ~ ~
Kristina watched the machine scoop Savannah into its arms and stride from the room. She took a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet before moving across to where the child had been sitting and throwing a cloth over the small puddle of vomit. Her nose screwed up in distaste. The machine had bound Savannah’s arm in a sling and given her painkillers, but her ceaseless whimpering had grated on Kristina’s nerves, and John Henry’s systems had been floundering as a result of bearing constant witness to his friend’s distress. It had been a relief to make the decision to return Savannah to her room.
On the video link, the engineer Brooks slurped a milkshake through a straw and gave her a thumbs-up when she requested an update.
“John Henry’s getting up to speed again, Ms Slater. Should be done in approximately twelve hours. Mr Dyson’s due in any minute, but I might come back later to see it all finished. Wallace said he might drop by, too.”
Kristina nodded, murmured something in an affirmative tone, and pretended that she gave a damn who joined the party. The sooner it was finished the sooner she could get back to her office, with its desert view, its air conditioning, and its total absence of whining children. She was proud of her ingenuity in ensuring the success of this project, but she missed her own and wondered how the TDE techs were progressing without her. If everything continued to go well, she was sure she could persuade Skynet’s directors that she required a T-888 to enhance the security of her desert facility. She liked the personality of the one now inhabiting John Henry’s body, and had decided within the last couple of hours that she could probably grow to like the overall package, given enough time.
She allowed herself a private smile and sipped her coffee. On the monitor, Brooks caught her expression and mistook it for encouragement. He gave her another thumbs-up. Men were such idiots, she thought as her smile broadened. It was a wonder that the race hadn’t died out years ago.
~ ~ ~
Danny swiped his security card and pulled the door open as soon as he was granted access. The building that housed the most intelligent computer system ever created had been chosen specifically for its unassuming appearance. Dwarfed by the tower blocks surrounding it, it commanded no one’s attention, and consequently no one ever stopped to wonder why its employees kept such unsocial hours. The security appeared minimal, until you took the time to study the reinforced glass and complex series of locks of the only door. In the months Danny had worked there, none of their neighbors had done anything of the sort.
Closed circuit cameras monitored by Cain plus fingerprint and voice recognition technology negated the need for security guards, which meant that Danny carried his duffel bag into the elevator without being questioned. The fact that no alarms had sounded at the sight of his bag indicated that Cain’s systems were still not at full strength. Danny hit the elevator button and glanced at his watch. He was thirty minutes earlier than the time he had told Brooks to expect him. He closed his eyes and rested his back against the glass-paneled wall. So far, so good.
~ ~ ~
The website’s design was disarmingly simple. It comprised an innocuous background, generic typeface, and one html link. Its appearance was so innocuous that John had had to password-protect it to prevent anyone accidentally stumbling across it and hitting the link when curiosity got the better of them. He really didn’t want to destroy the entire internet with one random click of a mouse.
You finished?
Twenty-two affirmative responses flashed up one by one. Michael had cast his net wide for this one. There had been contributions from every group member with the necessary expertise, and the results had been nothing short of spectacular. John swallowed a mouthful of soda, his throat suddenly dry.
Be safe, guys, he typed, adrenaline making his fingers clumsy on the keys. I’ll let you know when it’s done.
He exited the chat as the first good luck message appeared. After closing down the website, he logged off and shut down his lap-top. Setting everything up had taken longer than he had expected, even with all the help he had received. He quickly packed the computer into its case.
His mother answered him the instant he knocked on her bedroom door.
~ ~ ~
The sun was beginning to drop, thin gray clouds whisping across the sky, but it wasn’t enough to lower the temperature. Sarah shifted uncomfortably, trying to unstick her damp tank top from the leather of the truck’s seat. Although her eyes were fixed on the road, her thoughts were elsewhere, and she was driving on autopilot.
The building Danny had described was a five-story tenement with a reinforced front door and an unguarded lobby. Slater and at least one T-888 were likely to be inside, but Danny didn’t know whereabouts inside Savannah was being held. He had only ever been to the building once, and his vague report had not been the least bit encouraging. A firefight within such close confines would be potentially disastrous. With the all-guns-blazing approach ruled out, they had decided to make an attempt favoring speed and stealth. Coordinating the two missions would be another major difficulty. The longer they delayed their rescue attempt, the closer they would come to losing the Turk to Cain completely. Danny had given them assurances that that would not happen before night had fallen, and they had had to place their trust in him, not wishing to risk a daylight attack. They were an hour away from their destination but still comfortably within their deadline.
Her eyes drifting to the horizon, Sarah watched the clouds begin to mass and darken, and resisted the urge to defy the speed limit needlessly.
~ ~ ~
“Hey, honey, I haven’t seen you down here before.”
Cameron turned to appraise the young woman who was tottering along on stiletto heels at her side. Approximately twenty years old, the woman was wearing only a mini-skirt and a thin halter top despite the cool drizzle that had begun to fall. Garish make-up and pinpoint pupils completed the ensemble.
“I haven’t been down here before,” Cameron said sweetly, matching the girl’s sing-song accent.
“Who’s your man?” The girl offered gum.
Cameron took a piece and began to chew it noisily. “My man?” She furrowed her brow, slightly confused. “John, I guess, but mostly his mother gives me my orders.”
The girl stopped dead in her tracks and stared open-mouthed at Cameron. “That is so, like, totally cool and progressive. Women’s lib! I love it!” Her gum was on the verge of dropping to the floor until she sucked it back in between cotton-candy-pink lips.
“Thank you!” Cameron beamed at her, and then gestured towards the building at the far end of the row. “Anyone use that corner?”
“No, uh uh, no.” The girl shook her head to emphasize her answer. “Tess did once, but they broke her ankles.” She sighed dramatically, wrapping her gum around one finger. “She could never walk properly in her boots after that. PVC,” she added in a confidential tone. “She specialized.”
Cameron blew a bubble and waited until it popped. “Who broke her ankles?”
“Men who work there.” A nod in the direction of the building. “No one goes near there now.”
“Right. You seen the men around lately?”
“No, uh uh. Been real quiet. Seen a pretty woman go in there,” the girl counted on her fingers, “two, no three, no maybe two days ago. I forget.”
“That’s great.” Cameron was already walking back towards the opposite corner, around which the truck was parked up. The girl shrugged, hitched her top up, and tottered away across the road.
“Right place?” Sarah asked as soon as Cameron opened the door.
“Right place. It’s a large tenement building. CCTV above the front door, keypad lock. Five floors. Full length fire escape from the roof, but every window is barred. No rear access. There’s an alley behind that runs the length of the entire block.” Without thinking Cameron blew another bubble, large enough to obscure half her face.
John laughed at his mother’s astounded expression.
“I got it from a crack-whore,” Cameron told him.
He nodded. Very little surprised him anymore. “Nice.”
~ ~ ~
“C’mon, c’mon.” Sarah watched the numbers change on the gadget’s small screen. It was taking far too long to calculate the combination. “Check the connection.”
“Connection’s fine,” Derek said. “The system’s just better.”
“Shit.”
“It’s halfway there. Give it time.”
She nodded impatiently and tried not to think of her son sitting unprotected in the truck. He had joked about being their getaway driver, but in reality he needed to be at his lap-top when the shit hit the fan. It was an arrangement she had been happy with until now.
The third number of the code locked into place. She resisted the urge to interfere, to tweak a lead or shake the thing to try to hurry it up. Standing on the porch, they were hidden in the shadows. The CCTV camera bore no light to indicate it was functional, but she was nowhere near convinced that meant their presence hadn’t been detected. The gadget finalized its fourth number to give the code as 4836. She held her breath as Derek punched the numbers in, half-hoping that they would be wrong, that they could just go home and be safe. Then she thought of Savannah Weaver, injured and terrified somewhere beyond the door, and she gripped the Remington a little more tightly. The lock disengaged, a series of red lights switching to green.
“Soon as we’re in, send the text,” she said to Cameron.
The machine put her hand on the door and pushed it open without making a sound.
~ ~ ~
TBC…
~ ~ ~