Infiltrator

The Major looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

'You don't sound too upset,' he observed.

'I think I'm too stunned to be upset right now,' Jordan said. He waved a hand.

'This is the craziest thing I have ever done. I just can't believe I'm sitting here.'

'So, what I'm wondering,' Ferri said, 'is where the hell you're going with this thing.' He waved vaguely. 'I mean, this kid should be turned over to the police.

Ya know?'

Jordan nodded and took another sip. Then he shrugged.

'Eventually, yeah. See, the thing is, I agree with Ms. Burns that Sarah Connor is headed our way. I think that having John boy on hand might'— he tipped his hand from side to side, wincing—'make her a little less violent.'

'That sucks,' Ferri observed.

'Yeah, it does,' Jordan agreed. 'I keep thinking of my nephew.'

The doctor came toward them and both men stood.

'He's going to be fine,' he said. 'I've given him something for the pain and he'll sleep through until morning at the least and probably most of tomorrow.'

'The concussion?' Jordan asked.

The doctor's eyes moved from the Major to Dyson.

'I wasn't sure you cared,' he said.

Jordan gave him a disgusted look. 'So?'

'You're right, the boy does have a concussion,' the doctor conceded. 'A very minor one. I don't anticipate any problems, but I've got the nurses checking in on him every hour.'

'Good,' Jordan said. 'Uh, I'd also like to keep an eye on him, so would it be possible for me to… bunk in with him?'

The doctor held his clipboard in front of him like a shield. 'Hospital beds are for hospital patients.'

'You can set up some kind of a cot,' the Major said pleasantly. 'Or maybe a reclining chair or something. We have to cooperate with Mr. Dyson on this. It's for the boy's own good.'

The doctor opened his mouth to protest, saw the steel behind Ferri's smile, and relented. 'Very well,' he said stiffly. 'I'll have the nurses set something up for you. Good night, gentlemen.'

'I don't think he likes you,' Ferri observed quietly, watching the doctor walk away.

Jordan shrugged. 'I'm not sure I like me very much right now either.' He grimaced, then turned to his friend. 'Thanks, Ralph. You've gone way above and beyond on this one. I owe you.'

'I know,' Ferri said with a grin. 'And one dark night I just might collect on it.'

He slapped Dyson on the shoulder. 'But you've already made a partial payment by giving me a heads-up on this Sarah Connor thing. The doyenne of Cyberdyne security hasn't seen fit to let us grunts in on what's going on. If we're not on our toes for this it's my fault, not yours.' He gave Jordan another pat on the back. '

'Night.'

Jordan watched him walk away, then turned and headed for the nurses' station. I am so gonna get my ass fired, he thought.

NEW YORK CITY: THE PRESENT

Ron Labane studied the pictures on his computer screen in awe. They did it! he thought gleefully. They actually did it! Put a thumb in the eye of the military-industrial complex, kicked the legs right out from under the bastards. And they had the balls to film it as they did it! He didn't even need to be concerned that this would lead the police to him because they'd flooded the Net with these images.

Ron wasn't as happy about the forest fire they'd started and was prepared to be angry until he got a separate message to the effect that the area was already

scheduled for a controlled burn. Very impressive, very satisfying.

The only difficulty, he thought, will be in controlling them. It wouldn't be the first time that early success also led to early imprisonment. And I have plans for these people.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

LAUREL, CALIFORNIA: THE PRESENT

Dieter pulled up at the gate of Ft. Laurel and waited for the MPs on duty to come out. He felt a moment of nostalgia; going through perimeter security was something he'd done most days of his life for twenty years. Sometimes legitimately, on his way to work; sometimes under assumed identities, very illegitimately… also on his way to work.

He'd borrowed the Chamberlains' army-surplus Humvee on the off chance that Cyberdyne could identify him, and Sarah, by their vehicle. In the back he'd placed a case of the expensive (and very hard-to-find) Danish beer that Ferri liked. The man was a real connoisseur; he sneered at mere Tuborg as fit only for peasants, barely better than Swedish brews.

The MP at the desk looked him over thoroughly before he picked up his clipboard and came out of the shack, narrow-eyed and slow. He was backed up by another soldier with a rifle, who moved to the right fender and stood at the ready.

Dieter had his passport in hand and passed it over to the MP without being asked. 'I'm here to see Major Ferri,' he said.

Then he went silent, keeping his face turned toward the MP, who read the passport—as well as he could, it being in Spanish. The MP looked from the passport to von Rossbach several times as though comparing individual features.

Dieter was amused by his thoroughness. When it all came down it wasn't going to be because this kid hadn't made sure of his identity.

'Are you boys expecting trouble?' he asked as the MP checked the backseat.

'Always, sir,' the MP answered. He went around to the back and lifted the canvas cover. 'What's in the box?'

'Beer.' Which was obvious, the name was all over the case.

'I meant in the locker behind it, sir.'

'A blanket, a tool kit, a flashlight,' Dieter answered. 'Some flares, stuff like that.'

If it had been anyone else but the major's guest the MP would have asked the big man to open the trunk.

'You may proceed, sir,' he said. Without waiting to be asked, he provided instructions to the Major's lodgings.

'Thank you,' Dieter said amiably.

'You're welcome, sir.'

Dieter glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove off and saw the rifleman

watching the Humvee for a moment before going back to the guard shack. It gave him a sense of unease, as though they knew more than they should.

Calm down, he told himself. The last I heard even the best MPs didn't have x-ray vision.

'You okay in there?' he asked Sarah.

There was a sharp tap from inside the trunk in answer. The code was once for yes, twice for no. He'd be glad when she could get out of there. The very thought of her crammed into that tiny space was giving him claustrophobia.

And Sarah only mentally present was even harder to take than the silent accusation that had been pouring out of her when she was there physically. Not the least of the shock was realizing how much he cared about her opinion.

Ferri's place was relatively easy to find, one of a row of base housing looking like a marked-down suburb two