Rising Storm

times now he'd had to abort contact with someone he wanted to recruit because of a Sector presence.

But if they were here they were too well hidden for him to spot. Time to make his move. He crept silently toward the pier.

The old man's hand jerked and suddenly held a Walther P-38, old and well maintained and deadly, the 9mm eyehole looking as big as a cannon when it settled unwaveringly on Dieter's face. His eyes moved to the tiny mirrors on the inner edge of his oversized sunglasses.

'Jesus Christ, Dieter, what took you so damned long?' he demanded. 'I thought my goddamned bladder was going to explode.' He stood up and held out the rod.

'Here, reel this in and come into the cabin.'

Dieter stood with his mouth open, caught flat-footed. Like some raw recruit, he thought.

'How did you know?' he asked, accepting the rod.

'Christ Almighty, you were making so much racket I thought I was being

invaded by bears. Bring the beer in, too.'

Von Rossbach watched the older man trot up the path to the cabin for a moment; then shaking his head, he began to reel in the unused lure. He'd always said the boss was psychic.

When von Rossbach was a young agent assigned to Doc Holmes's unit, he'd quickly become aware that his mentor possessed an acute situational awareness.

And though Doc was well schooled in every facet of covert technology, he made it plain that he preferred his agents to rely mainly on their native faculties.

'What are you gonna do if your batteries run out?' he'd ask sarcastically. 'Go home?'

Doc could be as exasperating as he was amazing. At some point whenever they got together, he left Dieter feeling like the overconfident young student in a kung fu movie who could never get the best of the master.

Dieter tucked the rod under one arm, the chair under the other, and picked up the cooler. In a way it was kind of nice to know that he still had things to learn. At least it means that I'm not the old master yet. And he's never made me walk over rice paper without tearing it, or asked me to trust the Force.

When he entered the cabin Doc was flicking switches on what looked like an incredibly complex stereo unit.

'Siddown,' Doc invited. 'Have yourself a brew.'

He continued to fiddle with the console, though no music began to play. Von

Rossbach selected a beer and sat watching him, making no comment.

Finally Holmes took a seat himself and, indicating the console, spoke as though continuing an ongoing conversation. 'Yeah, the Sector promised me they wouldn't keep me under observation when I retired. They lied.' He put a finger by his nose and winked. 'But I never made them any promises in return. What I just did then was erase the little bit of conversation we just had and replace it with tweeting birds and lake water lapping the pier.' He grinned. 'I pity the poor schmo they've got listening in on me; his brain is probably turning to New Age paste.' Taking a sip of beer, he studied his former agent.

'So, what brings you here to Goose Lake? I heard you'd retired to Paraguay, of all places.'

Dieter shifted in his chair. 'Paraguay is nice,' he said, a bit defensively. 'A little boring sometimes, but basically very nice.'

With a snort Doc said, 'So's Goose Lake, if you like being bored out of your mind.' He wagged a finger. 'You've been causing comment, dear boy. What's this I hear about you and Sarah Connor?'

'How do you know about that?' von Rossbach demanded.

Doc looked smug. 'Remember how I said I never made them any promises?

Wellll… I found a way to keep myself updated. When you left I hear you just…

left.'

'I burned out all at once,' Dieter agreed. 'I couldn't wait to get out of there.

They agreed.'

'Wanna talk about it?' Doc ;asked.

'Nothing to talk about,' von Rossbach said. 'There was nothing particular about my last mission that made it my last. It just was. Maybe I didn't take enough time between assignments, maybe I should have taken a desk job instead of staying in the field.' He shrugged his big shoulders. 'I don't know; it was just over.'

Holmes looked at him shrewdly. 'I ask again, what's this about Sarah Connor?

Not like you to side with the terrorists.'

Is that what they're saying? Dieter thought. Of course it was, what else could they think? 'Sarah Connor isn't a terrorist,' he said aloud. His voice was flat'

when he said it; He didn't expect to be believed.

Doc raised a brow at that. 'She's not? She's bombed at least three computer companies that we know of. Okay, two of them were Cyberdyne, but that still counts as three hits. Not to mention she's guilty of drug smuggling and arms dealing. These are things that terrorists do, buddy.'

Dieter sighed. He was about to risk something he really valued here-the continued respect of this man- 'But what if she's not crazy, Doc?' He looked up and met the other man’s eyes.

Both of Doc's brows went up at that. He sat contemplating his former agent for a while. 'Not crazy.' he said at last.

'Would you be willing to listen?' von Rossbach asked him.

Holmes pursed his lips and blew out a stream of air. He shrugged. 'Sure, what

the hell, I haven't got anything else on my schedule right now.

Dieter studied him carefully; if he didn't buy this story, Dieter knew Doc would turn him in to the Sector in a New York minute. He ran one hand over his face, feeling desperate. Well, this is what you're here for, he told himself.

'It's all true,' he said simply- Dieter waved his hands. 'All of it.'

For a moment Doc sat still, looking expectant. 'That's it?' he exclaimed. 'That's your explanation? 'Cause, y'know, I'm sitting here waiting for something more.

What if all I know about Sarah Connor is she likes to blow up computer companies?'

Tossing his head impatiently, von Rossbach said, 'You know more about the case than that! I know you better, Doc. I worked for you for ten years. If you saw my name connected with hers in the Sector's files, you'd look into it. I know you would.'

Doc waggled his head back and forth. 'Okay, good call.' Hu went silent for a while, his eyes on the middle distance. 'I have to admit I was very intrigued by that guy who shot up the police station, then ten years later showed up in a shopping mall.' He waved a hand at von Rossbach. 'It was you! Except that at the time of both incidents, you were working for me, and in the first case, you were actually, physically, with me. So what am I supposed to think? I know you don't have an evil identical twin. I know they say everybody has a double, but that's bullshit.'

Dieter watched Doc as he worked it through, the older man's fingers tapping on the arms of his chair. Doc looked up at him. 'Connor says this guy was some

kind of robot.' A statement that was really a question.

Dieter nodded. 'I got to meet a couple of them, Doc. They looked exactly like me. I saw their insides; they're made of metal. Rods and cams, hydraulics, a really impressive small power unit, computer controls—neural-net computers.

They're real.'

After studying Dieter for a moment, Doc said, 'So it follows that the ultimate killer computer and the Judgment Day crap… all that's real, too?'

'I hope not. That's what Sarah has been trying to prevent all these years.' He bit his lip. 'Unfortunately we've come to the conclusion that maybe it can't be stopped. Maybe it's meant to happen and there's nothing that can be done to prevent it. The best we can do is mitigate the circumstances. Which is why I'm here.'

'Yeah, Whang said you were recruiting people.'

Doc waited him out. Dieter could feel heat creeping up his face. Only Doc could make him feel like a naive kid saying something stupid. 'So I was hoping that we could rely on you to help when the time came.' There, that was