Infiltrator

she is smart, he thought. And if Connor is right, then she might have resources that we don't.

'He's a very persuasive boy,' Jordan began. 'And those guys you sent with me were insanely out of line.' He rested his hands on the chair back. 'Maybe I bought into it a little.' He met her eyes. 'So I brought him to the base hospital instead of here. I stayed with him last night and thought about it.'

Serena looked at him, swinging her chair slightly from side to side.

'And what did you conclude?' she asked.

He shrugged, looking down. 'To be honest, maybe I'm too tired to think straight, but the jury is still out.'

She laughed again. 'Yes, I'm afraid you are too tired to think straight. I suggest you not try to buy a used car today if you're capable of buying the crap that poor

kid took in with his pablum.' Serena uncrossed her legs and scooted her chair under her desk, folding her hands before her. 'What did you tell them at the hospital?' she asked, all business now.

'That I didn't think our clinic could handle the kid's wounds. And that his life depended on his presence being kept secret.' He shrugged. 'I told Ferri that Tricker would want him to cooperate with us on this.'

The T-950 looked thoughtful. He was telling the truth, at least for the most part, judging from the micro- tremors in his voice.

'Good!' she said with satisfaction. 'You're probably right about the hospital having a better chance of treating him, too. We do have just a small clinic. So I'm not totally dissatisfied with your performance on this. I should have expected it, given your concern over the boy's wounds. And he is at hand if needed.'

She looked at him, her head tipped to one side, then she lowered her eyes.

'I guess the jury is still out for both of us. How this all works out will determine your future with Cyberdyne,' she said. 'Now, why don't you go home and get a few hours' rest. I'd like you to come back in tonight; that's when I think she'll strike, sometime between midnight and dawn.'

'Tonight?' he said.

Something in his voice alerted her. She extended her hearing and caught the sound of an elevator. Not her Terminators; they'd been instructed to use the stairs at all times in order to avoid human contact. The only human in the building besides Jordan was the guard on the desk. Who hadn't let her know she had a

visitor. She checked the security cams and found them off-line. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't turn them on again.

She had gone so still that she might as well have been a mannequin. Jordan knew instinctively that something had gone very wrong. He took a giant step toward the door. His hand was on the knob when she flew over her desk toward him.

How he did it he never knew, but he was through the door and slamming it behind him before she could get her hands on him. He ran flat out for the elevators. Serena was through in a split second, her beautiful face completely expressionless, almost serene, as the door flew back hard enough to shatter the knob and tear the lock out of the plywood frame.

At first he flung things in her path, a chair, someone's computer, anything he could get his hands on. But he saw when he looked over his shoulder that she leaped over everything like a gazelle, her hair almost brushing the ceiling. After that he just ran, arms pumping, legs flying. It seemed miles.

There was one last door ahead, the glass barrier between the scientists and executive territory. He swished his card through the reader and a green dot lit, the door clicked, and he was through. The door slid shut behind him. He picked up a potted palm and threw it at the lock mechanism outside the door, which broke with a shower of sparks. Serena was nearly to the door.

He turned, crossed the corridor, and hit the elevator button; the doors opened and he flew inside. Jordan turned and pressed a button, any button, then watched helplessly as the demon approached.

Serena slammed into the door and bounced off, looking faintly surprised. Then,

knowing she had him trapped, a slow, satisfied grin animated her face. She drew back her fist and punched forward, safety glass shattered into a thousand pieces, and she leaped through. As the elevator doors closed he saw her expression change to chagrin and the last he saw of her was her fingertips reaching for the door.

Then she was gone and the elevator was on the move. Jordan plastered himself against the side of car and gasped for breath, then he slid down the wall and sat for a moment, gathering his strength. Opening his eyes, he smiled, then looked to the side and froze. The elevator was full of bomb.

Serena hit the elevator door hard enough to dent it. She let loose a strangled cry of frustration, then quickly stifled it. Where are you? she sent to the Terminators.

Two, one of them answered.

One, the other replied.

The third didn't answer.

Serena watched the elevator indicator: Dyson was going down; he was already past two.

There's at least one human invader in the building, she told them. Jordan Dyson.

Terminate him on sight.

Five came toward her from the far end of the corridor. A pity it hadn't been closer when Dyson ran; they could have cornered him between them.

'Go to the ground floor,' she said. 'Guard the elevators and the door to the stairs. Terminate any human who comes through them.'

She looked up. Dyson had gone all the way down to four. There was a panel on the wall that controlled the elevators; she ripped off the cover and grabbed a handful of wires, then pulled them from their moorings. That ought to keep him where she wanted him for a while. She signaled Six to meet her there.

The T-950 turned and headed for the stairs. She had a small but powerful gun bolstered at the small of her back under her suit jacket—a snub-barreled magnum that a human her size couldn't have controlled. Pulling it out, she clicked off the safety and made sure she had a round in the chamber.

Hunting humans, she thought. How nice. Seems an age since I did this.

EMITTER E8 CYBERDYNE: THE PRESENT

At the sound of the approaching elevator Sarah stopped what she was doing and ducked behind the receptionist's island. Who (he hell is that? she wondered.

Surely Dieter would know better than to use the elevator. She pulled her Clock from its holster and rested her gun hand on the desk, eyes on the elevator door.

The doors opened and Jordan braced his leg against one side to keep them there as he peeked out into the corridor. So should I take the elevator back up, or use the stairs? he wondered. Maybe he ought to check the indicators, see if Serena was following him. He edged out of the elevator slightly.

Sarah fired, aiming for the thigh of the leg inching its way into view.

Jordan went down screaming. He thrashed on the floor cursing and trying vainly to keep quiet. It hurt so damn much!

'Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!' he hissed, half cursing, half praying.

Sarah recognized him from Sacramento: the man who had said he would take care of John. She rushed from behind the desk to stand over him, her gun aimed at his head.

'Don't move!' she ordered.

Jordan opened his eyes to find himself staring into a small black hole. His breath stopped; it took five long seconds for him to make his lungs work again and he took his breath with a long, tearing gasp.

'Where's my son?' Connor said. Her voice and face were as cold as the moon and as distant. ,

'He… he's okay,' Jordan stammered. He couldn't stop shaking and his leg burned. 'He's on three, setting up bombs.'

She appeared to think about that; after a moment she took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Then she almost smiled, looking younger in an instant.