Rising Storm

Missing was some sort of security center, where the monitors would be and the recording equipment. Perhaps an office or two that needed to remain secret.

Although, somewhat to her surprise, she'd located the office of the base commander quite easily. Clea would have expected a slightly higher level of security for such a sensitive area.

I'm blind here, she thought impatiently, sitting up. I need to find out what's in those unscanned rooms. That would take a little work, but it would be worth it.

She'd discovered earlier in the day that Tricker had locked down the elevator on

the top floor and the only other way to get from one floor to another was the emergency stairs, which were both freezing cold and guarded by alarmed doors.

Not even a challenge for such as she.

The next time the cameras went off she flashed down the corridor at her top speed and disabled the emergency door's alarm. Then she raced to the next level and disarmed the alarm on that level. With less than fifteen seconds left she reached the first mystery door, only to find it locked. She moved on to the second, also locked.

When the security cameras came back on she had stuffed herself into a narrow supply closet in someone's office. A minute could pass quite slowly under those circumstances and she had to force herself to remain still. She couldn't help thinking that it was extremely likely that Tricker was asleep, making it safe for her to roam around. After all, he was only human, he had to sleep sometime—for that matter, so did she. And yet it would be foolish to jeopardize the mission on that assumption, because being Tricker, he might also be looking right at her.

And so, she waited.

When the cameras went off again she was instantly in the corridor working on the lock. It was a good one, but not as complex as she had feared, and she was soon slipping inside. Two of the three doors she'd marked led to a single large room with banks of monitors on the longest wall. Around the other sides of the room were ranks of recording equipment, file cabinets, and a number of desks.

Clea quickly ascertained that this was the room that monitored the bulk of the facility. The third room would be the one she wanted. When she pulled the door closed the room locked behind her, to her great relief; no need to fiddle with the

lock again. She flung herself back into her closet just in time.

It was inconvenient that she had to skulk around like this, but she wasn't quite ready to dispose of Tric:ker vet. Or perhaps it was that she had come to agree with Serena about him. He was more of a challenge than the average human.

Then again, having him around was a complicating factor for Connor and his party—a quick check of her computer component said it skewed the odds in her favor. Marginally, but… It was time again.

The third door yielded readily to her lock picks and she found herself in a room the size of a small office. There were only ten monitors here—two for the security rooms, six for the sheds up above, and two to scan the perimeter.

Clearly the powers that be didn't think that was much of a priority.

The I-950 quickly made the connections that would tie these monitors into the base's main security system and thus into the Skynet computer and through that to her. She went into hiding one more time and studied the new images. First she noted that Tricker was indeed awake and was watching the security cameras flick from place to place. Then she saw that the base was experiencing whiteout conditions again—or was still; she had no way to be sure.

The cameras went down and she rushed back to her lab and lay on her cot. It would be good to know where Tricker was at any given moment. Though it frustrated her to know that if John Connor was coming he'd be delayed by the weather.

John gently shook Wendy awake. She opened her eyes and blinked at him. 'Was I asleep?' she asked.

'Most definitely,' he whispered. He grinned, them brought it down a few notches with a wince as the stitches tugged at the tears in his face. 'You've got a cute little snore.'

'I don't snore!' she said indignantly-

He put his finger across her lips, then kissed her. 'A very ladylike little snore.'

Wendy buried her face in his shoulder with a giggle, then sighed. 'It's time, isn't it?'

He nodded silently.

'What do we do?' she asked. 'We're still locked in, right?'

'We do one of two things. We break out of here and try and get the drop on him, or we lure him here and try to get the drop on him. Either way comes down to the same thing.'

I wish we could have brought weapons, he thought fervently. A weapon would be real nice now. But that would have blown their cover story for good and all…

'Then let's lure him here. We'll get the drop on him after I've had a chance to go to the bathroom,' she said practically.

'Good point,' he agreed.

A moment later Wendy was knocking quietly on the door and calling out.

'What is it?' Tricker asked.

'I need to go to the bathroom,' Wendy whispered.

He unlocked the door and opened it to find the sleep-tousled girl frowning at him.

'How come you locked us in?' she asked.

'Sorry,' he said, 'regulations.'

'Regulations!' she said, as though beginning a tirade.

'Bathroom's the last door on the right.'

He stood there, bland-faced, as though nothing unusual was going on. Wendy glared at him for a moment, then flounced off, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

'Hey,' John said, sitting up. 'Can I have some water? Maybe a couple more aspirin? My head is killing me.'

'Sure,' Tricker said. 'How did that happen?' He made no move toward the front office, but watched John approach.

'Fell,' John said. 'Couple of times. First time I got the lump, then I got up and fell right down again onto some sharp ice.'

'You're lucky you didn't lose an eye,' Tricker said.

John shuddered. 'Tell me about it.' He looked at the agent and tipped his head toward the office. 'Could we… ?'

'Sure,' Tricker said with a glance at the closed bathroom door. 'After you.'

Clea's eyes widened. They were here! They had come and she hadn't known!

Didn't Tricker realize who they were? How could he miss it? But the agent was relying on a padlock to keep John Connor contained—and that indicated that he didn't know who they were.

The I-950 considered the situation. The girl was negligible, no threat at all, but she could be the key to getting Connor right where she wanted him. Therefore, she needed to get control of the girl.

On the same wall as the bathroom, toward the front room that held the office, was the door that led down to the elevator. It was locked, but Clea knew the code; she'd noted it when she'd first arrived.

Accessing the security room, she found the remote for the door and tripped the lock. Through the security camera she watched it swing open about a foot.

As the I-950 watched, Connor accepted some tablets from Tricker and a cup of water. Unwisely, in her opinion; she'd want a chemical analysis on anything medicinal that Tricker handed to her. Wendy left the bathroom and started down the hallway. She then exhibited a curious trait that Clea had noticed again and again in human beings; she looked at the open door.

Wendy stood stock-still, glanced toward the front office, then leaned toward the door. She gently pushed it open just a bit farther and peeked inside.