Infiltrator

Serena stopped herself. It was time to stand back and see if she'd convinced him.

Jordan was silent, thinking about what she'd said, thinking about how Connor had killed his brother and destroyed his work. Tried to destroy it, he amended.

Burns was right; Cyberdyne would draw Connor like a magnet. And this time she might very well not wait until the place was empty to strike. Not if she's looking for revenge as well as serving whatever crazy cause she's into. And the truth was, he wanted to be there when she arrived, not sitting in the police station

answering questions.

'All right,' he agreed. 'I'm on my way.'

It was wrong, and he knew it, but this was something he'd worked toward for six long years, it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.

Jordan stopped at the first store he saw and bought bandages, alcohol, a blanket and pillow, and some aspirin and bottled water. Then he rushed back to the car parked at the deserted far end of the parking lot and opened the back door.

Connor was conscious, but just barely.

The scalp wound was still bleeding, but sluggishly and it wasn't as deep as he'd feared. He poured some water on a sterile pad and wiped the blood away, then poured alcohol onto another and wiped the wound. Connor hissed through his teeth and his eyes flared open at the pain.

'Sony,' Dyson muttered. 'At least you know you're alive.'

'M'mother'd say 'at,' the boy mumbled.

Jordan smiled grimly.

'From what I've read about her, I believe you,' he said.

The shoulder wound was another matter, a far deeper wound.

Jordan wiped away the blood, then flushed it with alcohol.

'Ssssshitt!' John shrieked, jerking upright, teeth clenched, muscles straining, then he flopped back onto the seat panting like a steam engine.

'Easy,' Jordan said.

'Easy?' John rasped. 'Easy… for you… to say.'

Jordan gave him a quick look, he heard the boy's voice shaking and it worried him. But he wasn't looking any worse. If anything, he was looking more alert. Of course, so would I if some bastard did that to me.

'Why don't you just take me to a hospital?' John asked.

His eyes tried to catch Jordan's. This was a human. That was unmistakable, but from what he'd heard a few moments ago he was the super-Terminator's cat'spaw.

'I'm going to,' Jordan said tersely. 'You'll get the best care available. I just wanted to get you stabilized.'

He pulled the bandage tight and John gasped.

'Easy! Easy,' John said. 'You're going to cut off the circulation to my heart!

Loosen it up, let the blood flow.'

'That's what I'm trying to prevent,' Jordan muttered between his teeth.

'I know what I'm talking about. I've had some training in battlefield first aid.'

'I'll bet you have,' Dyson snarled.

John looked up and suddenly saw the resemblance.

'Miles?' he said, feeling weak. Weaker. He looked closer and realized the face was far too young. 'No,' he said sadly. 'But you look just like him.'

Jordan looked up from his work, his eyes blazing.

'Yeah, I do. I'm his brother. Correction, was his brother. Miles is dead.'

John closed his eyes and nodded. 'I know,' he said.

Dyson frowned. There was a quiet dignity to this kid that moved him, completely against his will. He realized that he'd wanted the boy to be a jerk, a punk he could despise.

'Good field dressing,' John said, his eyes closed.

'Glad you like it,' Jordan said. 'It's my first.'

John smiled.

'What?' Dyson asked suspiciously.

'Nothing,' John said. He opened his eyes. 'Why aren't you taking me to a hospital?' He thought he knew the answer from what he'd overheard, but he wanted Dyson to tell him.

'I am taking you to a hospital,' he said, looking down. He picked up the various medical paraphernalia and began putting it back in the shopping bag. 'Just not in

Sacramento.'

'Who's Serena?' John asked. He kept his eyes on Jordan's face, willing the older man to look up.

'My, what big ears you have,' Jordan snapped. He kept working for a moment, painfully aware of the boy's accusing eyes. 'She's my boss,' he finally said.

'Chief of security at Cyberdyne.'

That would fit, John thought. Better than a scientist, even. So this Serena had to be the super-Terminator. Interesting that it was a female. He wondered if his mother's reputation had inspired that choice. John tried to imagine a female Terminator and couldn't get beyond the massive chassis.

'What's she like?' he finally asked.

Jordan had watched the boy thinking things over and was waiting for his next question. This wasn't the one he was expecting.

'Younger than me, blond, very pretty, about average height… slender. Not what you expected, I guess,' he said as John looked at him perplexed.

John shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I thought she'd be bigger.'

Now it was Jordan's turn to be perplexed. What the hell does that mean? he wondered. He picked up the bag and began to back out of the car.

John grabbed his jacket with his good hand.

'Don't take me to her,' he said. He tried to make Dyson meet his eyes. 'She'll

kill me.'

'No, she won't,' Jordan said disgustedly, pulling the boy's hand off his jacket.

'There is absolutely no reason for her to kill you.'

'Yes, there is,' John said earnestly. 'If I die, then Skynet wins.'

'Who? Oh, wait a minute, that must be the monster computer that's going to take over the world, right?'

John nodded, then wished he hadn't as his vision doubled. He dropped his head back down on the cheap pillow. 'She's here to protect Cyberdyne so that Skynet can be born.'

'Of course she is!' Dyson sneered. 'Why didn't I see that myself? What else could she be doing?'

'If she's really on the level, then why isn't she letting you take me to a hospital instead of dragging me to Cyberdyne?'

Jordan leaned closer to him. 'Because she thinks—and I agree with her—that your dear old mom is heading for Cyberdyne with lots of explosives and no brakes. She's trying to keep her from killing anybody as much as she's trying to preserve Cyberdyne.'

John licked dry lips. 'Can I have a drink of that water?' he asked.

Jordan, looking disgusted, pulled it out and uncapped it for him.

'Thanks.' John took a long pull, then plopped his head back down on the pillow, his eyes closed. He kept hold on the bottle when Jordan would have taken it away. 'What's your name?' he asked.