Summary: Takes place after the Season Finale Episode, "Born to Run." My own thoughts on the Terminator Series and the concept of John Connor. Will be a combination of my own storyline and that of the Sarah Connor Chronicles.

Disclaimer: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles is owned by Fox Productions.

Rating T- For Language and Violence. Rating Subjected to Change.

Chapter 9- Metal vs. Metal

Baum Residence: 09:53 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Two weeks. That's how long its been since she had burned down Andy Goode's house, thus destroying the Turk.

And she still had mixed feelings about it.

On one hand, she prevented one piece of technology that would evidently become Skynet in the future. On the other, she had ruined a man's life and destroyed his dreams. A man that she had grown to like. Not romantically, she still hadn't gotten over Charley, seeing as it had in reality been seventeen days since she's seen him, while for him, it'd be a little over eight years.

At the thought of Charley, Sarah felt her heart throb.

Charley Dixon was a kind man. More then a kind man, he was the type of man that she spent several years of her youth trying to find. She thought she found it in Stan Morski, her boyfriend during her time in 1984.

In retrospect she realized, with a vain smile, that they had only gone out on a few dates, three to be exact. The fact that he asked her out on more, to her anyway, meant that he was seeking a little something long lasting.

Either that, or getting into her pants if his constant flirting over the few dinners they shared amounted to anything.

Then there was Kyle.

She felt her heart break at the mere mention of his name.

Kyle. She loved him. Even for the two days that she had been with him, where the majority of the first being spent thinking that the man was insane, she had fallen in love with him.

She had wondered during the duration of her pregnancy if she truly 'loved' Kyle, or if it was just the spur of moment of hearing Kyle confess his feelings for her. And then it brought up another question.

Did Kyle even really love her? From what Cameron had told her of John, he was ruthless in gaining what he either wanted and needed.

What if Kyle coming back to the past was something that John saw as necessary? What if he had brainwashed Kyle into thinking that he truly did love her? Or worse, what if John had ordered Kyle to impregnate her, her feelings and Kyle's be damned?

None of the scenarios in her head granted her any peace of mind, and it only intensified her already growing doubts concerning their relationship.

Shaking her head, Sarah decided to put these thoughts in the back of her head for the moment as her phone started to ring.

Checking the caller ID and seeing that it was Salyes, Sarah flipped it open before hitting the appropriate keys, waiting a for a response. Hearing the return code beeped back, she answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Sarah? Its Salyes."

"I know that. What I want to know is why you're calling me."

She heard Salyes mutter something before his voice came back over the line. "You got today's newspaper?"

Reaching over for the discarded item, Sarah muttered, "Yeah, what of it?"

"Check the front page."

Flipping the paper, Sarah read the title before skimming through the article.

"Colton shipment?"

Hearing Salyes muttering again, this time able to pick out the words, "…stupid little…damnit…"

Deciding to ignore the man's whispering, Sarah ventured, "Salyes? You still there?"

"Uh…yeah. Question though. Were you, John, and the machine followed by any chance?"

Sarah frowned.

"No. From what I was able to gather, the bank exploded. Anything left in there should have been killed."

"Not from what I'm seeing."

Now Sarah felt her curiosity and anger rising at the man's cryptic answers.

"What? What are seeing right now? And if you give me one more vague answer, I'm going to-!"

"Okay! Okay! Just settle down already!"

After talking a few calming breathes, Sarah asked for Salyes to continue.

"Right. Anyway, I got a copy of the video footage of when you guys came out of the time displacement sphere back in September. By zooming in on you, I was able to catch something over your right shoulder."

Feeling nervous all of a sudden, Sarah asked, "What? What did you see?"

Salyes didn't reply for a few seconds before his voice broke the silence, soft and full of worry.

"A skull. A metal skull."

At that, Sarah felt her heart stop. With the images of the bank coming back to mind, Sarah whispered out softly, "Cromartie?"

"Sarah? Sarah you still there?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she quickly started firing off questions at Salyes, ranging from how he was sure that it was a metal skull, what this shipment of colton had anything to do with Cromartie, and what he intended on doing about it.

"Slow down and let me explain!"

Quieting down for the moment, Sarah resolved herself to carry out his demand for the moment.

"I don't know who this Cromartie is or what he has to do with you and John, but all I do know is that the only way to kill a metal is by destroying its power cells or its chip. Since its skull was removed, meaning that it can be reattached, it'd be safe to assume that its still out there, no doubt trying to repair itself."

Sarah for her part, wasn't thrilled at the news.

"We have to move again. Staying here with that machine out there is to dangerous."

"And what? Hide and hope that he doesn't find you? Its what they do Sarah, nothing will change that. No matter how hard you pray or how fortified a place you find to hide, they will find you."

Realizing that the young man's words were nothing short of true, Sarah calmed herself down before she addressed the article and colton.

Salyes then explained that colton was what the T units from the 888 Series and above were constructed with. With a superior melting point and more durability, they were superior soldiers in comparison to Skynet's other units.

"That's why I'm calling. I think that machine, Cromartie or whatever its name is, has gone after the colton. To have a fire placed at a docking point only to have the shipment redirected to Los Angeles, a place where Skynet conducts its main operations, is to closely related to be put off as coincidental. If the machine gets its hands on that colton, it'd have enough to make hundreds of Terminators. We need to stop that shipment. Timms and I have already tracked the ship and the pier number. We need you to go there and stop the shipment."

Frowning, Sarah asked, "Why can't you do it? You have all the information that you need. It should be easy for you guys to blow that place to hell."

"It would if we have the proper equipment. We were sent back to get you the IDs and money, nothing else. Going on reconnaissance was Derek's idea, and as our superior officer, we had to agree. You have the machine with you, two if I remember correctly. That should be more then enough to help you if that metal shows up. As for the equipment to blow the place to hell, you're wanted on domestic terrorism right?"

Ignoring Salyes' last comment, Sarah grabbed a pen before flipping the newspaper on its back again, finding an empty spot in the corner edge of it.

"The pier number. Now."

Pier 128: 10:47 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

"So let me get this straight. Inside this warehouse is about dozens of boxes of colton which are used to create the endoskeletons for Terminators?"

Nodding her head while still peaking through the open window of the warehouse, Sarah said, "That about sums it up."

Shaking his head slightly, John joined his mother in looking through the window before he muttered, "And what's so important about the colton? Why does Skynet want it?"

Stepping behind him and look over his head, Cameron whispered, "Colton is used as a replacement to the hyper titanium alloy Skynet had used for the construction of the T-600 through T-850 Series endoskeletons. Because of their higher melting points, the probability of surviving multiple plasma blasts from Resistance weaponry increased."

At that, Sarah smirked.

"You know what I love about you guys? Even when you've evolved into the ultimate, destructive, killing machine, you're not above self examination or improvement."

Processing her words in her CPU, and realizing she was being teased, Cameron childishly poked her tongue at Sarah, whom did the same thing in return.

John, watching the two interact, tried in vain to stop the laughter that wanted to escape his throat. Instead, he was able to convert it into a snort and bout of coughing.

Calming down slightly, John gestured to the warehouse before he said, "How many endoskeletons can you make out of what's here?"

Stopping her temporary feud with Sarah at the moment, Cameron did a scan of the warehouse, counting the amount of boxes and max capacity of colton they could hold.

"There is approximately enough colton to construct exactly 530 endoskeletons."

Giving a low whistle, John gave Cameron a contemplative look.

"Doesn't take much to build an endoskeleton does it?"

Shaking her head, Cameron said, "No. It doesn't."

Looking into the warehouse, Cameron took a sharp intake of air, bringing the female Connor's attention back on her.

"What? What is it?"

Pointing to the man in the military uniform, Cameron whispered, "Terminator Unit."

Looking into the window again, Sarah saw the man walk up to one of the colton cases before lifting it up with ease. Turning towards the truck, the man, now officially identified as a Terminator, walked towards the open unit before dumping the box inside.

"Definitely a machine. Is it Cromartie?"

Having told John and Cameron earlier of what Salyes had reported, they already knew of the high possibility of Cromartie making appearance. All they had to go with was that it wouldn't be for a while, which gave them time to prepare.

"No. His endoskeleton isn't the appropriate size. He's too short."

Taking a closer look at the T-Unit, John realized to a certain extent that she was right. Cromartie, while admittedly not being able to recall or make an estimate at his exact height, was certainly much taller then the machine before him.

"If it isn't Cromartie, then who is it?"

Cameron held no answer for him.

They continued to watch as the machine continued to load the colton onto the truck, finishing just before four men arrived, all wearing identical military issued uniforms.

Giving them instructions to get into the truck, the Terminator, identified as 'Carter' by his fellow workers, walked off to the army standard jeep.

Deciding it was time to go, Sarah nudged John's side, bringing his attention back to her.

"We need to go."

At that, John frowned.

"Mom, they're getting away. We need to follow them, find out where the colton is going to go."

Reaching forward and grabbing John by his arm, Sarah pulled him to her side, her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"We're outnumbered John. Its too risky."

With a tilt of his head, John gestured towards Cameron. "We have her."

Cameron frowned at the inclination.

"I am insufficient. Chances of fighting off a T-888 Unit with four armed accomplices is hazarding to my mission to protect you."

Fixing John a intensive stare, she chided, "You could get injured in the resulting fight. Severally."

John for his part, restrained the urge to roll his eyes.

"So we run basically? I thought we were done running?" John then directed his gaze to his mother. "You promised to stop it, remember? How are you going to do that if every time a lead comes up, you hesitate to take a chance?"

Sarah felt her jaw clench. "Because if there is a possibility of you getting hurt or worse, then it isn't worth investigating. Like it or not John, you are irreplaceable. You die, and its over. They win. Don't forget that."

John had the manners to look sheepish before he gave a nod, indicating that he understood what his mother was talking about.

Taking this small victory, Sarah placed her hand on John's head, running her fingers through his hair. "We'll think of something. For now, we need to back up a bit, slow down. Take baby steps. If we're going to do this, then we are going to do it right."

Already moving down the path that led to the EXT, Sarah and Cameron were about halfway there before they stopped, noticing immediately the sound of only two pair of feet walking instead of three.

Turning around abruptly, Sarah and Cameron felt a jolt of fear run through them as they saw John's legs sticking out of the warehouse window they were just looking in moments ago.

Not even wasting a second, both females ran towards him, fully intent on grabbing John's legs before dragging him back out and to safety.

Before they were even a few yards from him, John slipped through the window, Cameron appearing just at the exact spot he was standing at only a few moments ago.

With anger clearly expressed on her face and tone, Sarah hissed, "John! Get back here!"

Acting as if he hadn't heard her, John crouched low to the ground before moving towards the truck that contained the colton. Slipping inside unnoticed, John quickly turned his phone on before placing discreetly on the top of the crates. Satisfied with his work, John was about to leave when he felt his blood run cold at the sight in front of him.

One of Carter's men was inside the truck, his back turned, trying to bring the crate down, which would effectively seal him inside.

Not wasting a second, John scrambled on top of the crates, hoping to whatever deity that existed that he wasn't caught or heard.

Evidently, his prayers were answered.

The man ignored his presence, slamming the crate shut, sealing himself and unbeknownst to him, John inside the truck.

Only one thought registered in John's mind once his only exit route was sealed before him.

'Crap. Mom's going to kill me.'

Unfortunately for him, John had no clue on how close that assumption was.

"I'm going to kill him!"

Not giving her the grace of her attention, Cameron ignored Sarah's declaration in favor of determining a means of rescuing John.

Nothing short of marching in and forcing the crate open came to mind, and she immediately discarded the idea, knowing the ramifications if it were to be implemented.

Seeing the truck and jeeps start pulling out

"HEY!"

Stopping momentarily, both females turned their heads in the direction of the sound, noticing one of Cromartie's men standing a few feet behind them, a Berretta 92 in hand.

Walking towards them slowly, he gave them each a once over before snarling, "Who are you and what did you see in there?"

Sarah gave the man an aggravated look before waving her hand at Cameron, earning her attention.

"Take care of him."

Nodding her head in compliance, Cameron made a steady stride towards the man, only giving a small grimace when the man fired, the bullet ripping through her jacket before tearing her camisole.

Taking the few seconds offered to her at the man's stunned expression when he realized his bullet did nothing to her, Cameron quickly grabbed his wrist, giving a quick twist, snapping his bone and forcing him to release the gun.

Placing her hand on his mouth to prevent his scream of pain from ringing in the air, she quickly brought her left knee up, slamming it into the man's stomach, causing him to give a strangled cry of surprise at the sheer strength behind the blow before Cameron delivered an elbow strike to the back of the man's head, causing his vision to blacken as his form slumped to the ground, barely unconscious.

Sarah, after making sure the man was still alive, turned her head in the direction of the truck.

Clenching her fists tightly and not seeing the truck anywhere, Sarah slammed her fist on the wall, letting out a menacing growl before she directed her eyes towards Cameron, her anger radiating off her form in waves.

"I lost him. I lost John."

Feeling her own ire rising at John's reckless behavior, Cameron grabbed the man by the collar of his uniform before slamming him against the wall of the warehouse, earning a strangled groan of pain from the semi-conscious individual.

"The shipment, where is it going?"

Trying in vain to release Cameron's grip on him, the man gave a her a self-righteous smirk, obviously momentarily forgetting what Cameron had done to him only a minute ago.

"And what are you going to do if I don't bitch?"

Cameron, nearly apoplectic now, adjusted her hold on the man before slamming him head first into the ground, knocking him out cold.

"That."

Pausing for a second, Cameron added, "Asshole."

Dr. Lyman's Office: 10:58 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Dr. David Lyman gave an aggravated sigh as he realized he made a mistake regarding one of his patients forms, again.

'I wouldn't be making as many mistakes if he didn't stop getting surgery so much', he silently mused.

Quickly jotting down another scrap of information that he deemed unimportant but necessary, David let a small frown grace his features.

While he was a plastic surgeon, and usually had a nice excessively large income, that hadn't been the case in the last few months. Actually, if you were to see him just three months previously, you would have saw that he had a nice lump sum of money in the bank, a beautiful wife whom was near her full term of pregnancy, and a eight year old son.

And just like that, it went up in flames. Not literally flames, but the life he knew had come to an abrupt end. Underneath the pleasantries that was the public's view of his life, Dr. Lyman had a drinking problem. A problem that only become more profound at his wife's pregnancy.

He had stated vehemently that he didn't want another child, remembering the long tiring months spent with their first, and he did not want a repeat performance. One he especially didn't want to go through when he remembered the long dry spell he had to go without the intimacy he shared with his wife.

Now he wasn't saying that he went so long without the physical pleasures of sex, far from the truth actually. He dabbled a little here and there in prostitutes and escort services, most of which in the privacy of his own office. In his 2007 Toyota Tundra if the need came while on his way home or picking up his son from school. Hell, he even had a few flings with some of his female patients, often under the pretence of being a doctor and making sure the breast augmentation was a complete success. Twice in a row if he was lucky enough.

While in a religious sense he was breaking his vows to his wife, at the end of the day, he returned to her. At the end of the day, he returned to her. In his mind, if having a little fling or two helped bare through the horrid months he would have to endure, then so be it. It was after all, for the sake of his marriage and well-being of his family, right? Or so he thought.

It was unfortunate enough that one of little flings with his more frequent patient caused her to have an inflated ego, demanding that her surgeries be reduced in price in exchange for her silence in regards of their little rumps. Not at all amused by her means of blackmail, David rebuffed her, breaking all contact with her. After all, there was no real physical evidence of their affair, and if he remembered correctly, had seen the woman herself working on the corners of the Los Angeles. Any semen that she provided or found on her person could easily belong to another unsuspecting man, so he paid her threat no mind.

Evidently, that was the wrong decision.

That very day he got home, his wife was in a towering rage, half her bags packed and his son already waiting for in a cab outside his home. He pleaded, begged, threatened, and lashed out at her, denying any involvement with the woman after she had called and told the now current ex Mrs. Lyman of their late night, and sometimes early morning escapades.

And to prove the validly of her claim, she provided a medical report stating that she was currently six months pregnant.

And the child was his.

Three months later, he become the father of two baby girls and an unmarried man branded in society as an adultery and unfaithful husband.

Not only that, but the Medical Board suspended his license and only just recently renewed it under the strict conditioning that his every move be heavily monitored and that he had no outside contact with any of his patients.

And this is where he currently found himself, serving only male patients with his supervisor breathing down his neck on a daily basis, and he hadn't a decent amount of ass in months.

Now he had to spend his days alone in a one room apartment with barely any money coming in to pay for his bills, with child support he owed to two women for three separate kids on top of that.

Pausing in his notes, David's head snapped up at attention as he listened to the sounds of something being clicked repeatedly outside his office. Stopping his work for the moment, he quickly made his way outside, only to stop short at the sight before him.

It was a man, or at least he believed to be a man. The figure was draped in an assortment of sweaters, coats, and rags, completely covering every inch of his body from view.

"Excuse me! You're not supposed to be here! The office is closed now!"

"Do you do reconstructive surgery?"

Lyman reeled from the question, slightly surprised.

Regaining his air of confidence, now tied in with a hint of annoyance, Lyman gave an irritably sigh before he said, "Yes, but you'll have to make an appointment. Come back tomorrow so when can set something up. For now, I'll ask you one more time to please leave."

The man, whom David had realized was looking through his patients faces on his computers, ignored him what he said before stating in a slightly mechanical voice, "I require reconstructive surgery."

Turning his head around, David gave a startled gasp of complete and utter astonishment. The man's face was…deformed. More to the point, he realized, the man's face was just, skin. No dignifying blemishes, unique features, nothing. His face was similar to that of a blank slate.

Fumbling with his words and having to clear his throat several times, David was able to get out a halfhearted threat of calling the authorities before the man removed the mask he wore over his mouth, if possible fulfilling the look of a deranged individual.

"Now."

Salceda Residence: 11:19 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Ellison looked with an expression of disgust and pity as the paramedics wrapped up the remains of Enrique Salceda, a former convict and now former FBI informant.

Shaking his head in disbelief and wincing at the horrible stench of death that lingered in the air, James carefully walked over the taped area of where Enrique's body was found, crouching down so he was level with one of his liaisons, watching as they took pictures of the blood stained floor before giving him their attention.

"Anything?"

At the shakes of their heads, Ellison let a small sigh of aggravation slip through his lips. Ever since that day when Sarah Connor appeared naked near the remains of the Security Trust Bank, a list of murders started to appear.

First with a pair of garbage workers, one's death through decapitation and the other having his neck snapped. Following that was the murder of a homeless individual, whose body was found just outside of the second victims home. Then it was Dr. Isaac Fleming, whose bathroom was coated in blood that was later identified as the blood stolen from CA Medical Hospital, his eyes removed and his jugular snapped. In addition to these deaths was the death of a medical assistant at the hospital, and now the death of Enrique Salceda.

Six deaths. Six bodies.

All caused by one person.

And he was sure of who was involved with this crime.

Standing up, Ellison made his way out of the apartment complex before heading to his car.

He had a appointment to make.

Carlos Salceda felt conflicted. The reason for his confliction came in the form of FBI Special Agent James Ellison. Or, more specifically, the information he was just given my the man.

His uncle was dead.

He frowned, replaying that single detail in his head.

His uncle Enrique was dead. From what he understood, it would be close to a few weeks since his death. Apparently, cause of death wasn't determined as of yet. He was gunned down by three bullets and had his sternum broken as well as his lungs punctured.

Then again, he shouldn't really care at all on how he died, should he? He should care more about the fact that he was dead, gone, disappeared from the world once and for all.

He would have called for his crew to break out he beers in celebration, but he restrained himself. After all, the FBI was in front of him, and he didn't want to get into any trouble.

Lord knows they already had an inkling on his little business, and he preferred to stay out of jail at the moment.

He didn't want to run the risk of becoming like his dead uncle, now would he?

At that Carlos did let a small smile grace his face, one that Ellison had immediately caught before asking him when the last time he had spoken to his uncle.

"About two weeks ago. Discussing the last game with the Lakers." He neglected to mention that he and his uncle had a pool going on that little game, and that his uncle owed him over three grand.

Looks like he wasn't going to be seeing that anytime soon either.

Just his luck.

Being increasingly patient with the man, Carlos listened to post question after question to him. Dropping subtly hints that Enrique was going to sell some information to the FBI regarding a fugitive that had outrun the law for the better part of the past decade.

He also hinted that he may have been the one who created the false I.D for said individuals, something that Carlos found quite humorous.

Even if had sold these fugitives their new papers, why on earth would he tell Ellison, of all people, and implicate himself? He told Ellison as much, watching with an increasing amount of mirth as the man was starting to become frustrated.

And then he dropped the bombshell on him.

"Have you been in contact with Sarah Connor?"

Carlos raised a thin eyebrow at the question. Connor? Wasn't she supposed to be dead?

"I thought she died eight years ago? You know, here, in Los Angeles? The whole bank explosion? Body was never found?"

Ellison just nodded his head in response, waiting patiently for Carlos to continue.

He smirked again.

"Nope, haven't seen her. Why would I anyway?"

It was here that Ellison decided to bring up her past with his uncle, something that Carlos didn't appreciate in the least.

"I don't know her. Yeah, she hung around my uncle a bit back in the day, invited herself over to a few of my family's barbecues too. But if you happen not to notice, my uncle isn't the very discreet type if you know what I mean. He had a different woman hanging off his arm every other week. I still don't see why Tia Maria stayed with him."

Stopping his rant short, Carlos settled his brown eyes on James before he said lowly, "I don't know where Sarah Connor is. Never did, never will. She didn't come to me, and if she truly went to El Rata, she would have."

His facial expression hardened.

"I've got nothing else to say to you Mr. Ellison. I think you should leave." This point was only driven further when one of his crew took a menacing step towards Ellison, ready to forcibly remove him from the house if necessary.

Though not intimidated, Ellison stood up before handing Carlos his card.

"If you have any information that you might want to share with me, give me a call. I'd like to hear it."

As soon as the man left, Carlos ripped the card in half.

Like hell he was going to call him. He wasn't a rat, and more importantly, he wasn't his uncle.

And yet he found himself staring currently at the picture of three individuals of which he used to make three sets of fake I.D's a little over a year ago. The client himself didn't resemble the photo he had in hand of the boy in the least, and certainly not the other two as they were female. The man himself actually was a little filthy in appearance, though he didn't comment on it at the time. He'd seen worse after all.

No, what bothered him was that the I.D's weren't even for him, but a group of others that the man had said were friends of his. And one of these friends looked familiar. He actually felt like he was staring at a ghost.

That might have well been the case.

Because the face he was currently staring into belonged to Sarah Connor.

Campo de Cahuenga High School: 11:42 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

With her optical emissions detecting no humans present in the halls, Cameron quietly made her way towards her designated target.

After knocking the man unconscious, Cameron took the liberty of tying the man up before non-to-gently throwing him back inside the warehouse, not caring on whether or not the man suffered from any external or internal wounds in the process.

Following that little scuffle, both females returned to their choice of residence before tracking the signal on John's phone, able to get a lock on it until the signal was mysteriously lost just within a few seconds of finding it.

Realizing the only possible lead to John was now in the hands of the man Cameron had rendered unconscious, Sarah quickly called Bob before having him met her at the pier.

At Cameron's look of indignation, Sarah quickly explained that while John was absent from school, she still had to show up as her name was Cameron Gordon, not Baum. It would raise questions if both new students were both absent on the same day with no calls from either guardians.

Finding her reasons and argument invalid, Cameron was determined to point out the unnecessary need for her to go to school before an image of Jordon and Cheri appeared in her HUD.

Jordon was still expressing signs of depression, and a brief moment of contemplating suicide before Cameron had intervened. Leaving her alone outside the protection of her parents was a dangerous move that would become a complication and hindrance to her mental health.

Cheri on the other hand, was still an enigma to her. She gained very little information from her current investigations regarding the girl, and she still seemed to be the main focus of John's attention, particularly in his Chemistry class.

She had to bare witness to John's many attempts at gaining her attention in that situation seeing as she transferred classes in order to better protect him.

Or so she stated to Sarah when she questioned her on it.

So, begrudgingly when faced with the possibility of questioning the girl herself, Cameron agreed to have Bob take her place.

Unfortunately, when she arrived at school, she found out that Cheri was dismissed early under the request of her father. While she now partially wished she was with Sarah and currently looking for John, Cameron charged ahead and kept up the façade of being a regular teenage girl.

But that didn't mean she was happy with it.

Reaching her the room where her target should be residing, Cameron attempted to open the door, only to discover it locked. Increasing her grip on the doorknob, Cameron ripped it clean off, destroying the locking mechanism inside it.

Pushing the door open, Cameron did a scan, coming to the conclusion that the man was currently not in his office.

She frowned before a small smile graced her face.

If couldn't extract the information she needed from Mr. Harris directly, then perhaps his computer would be able to assertion the information she required.

Moving towards his desk, Cameron took his seat before turning attention to the Dell laptop that was sitting at the far end of the desk. Pulling it towards her, she flipped it open before the screen blared to life. Her face turned to an expression of distaste as a small box appeared in the center of the screen, requesting a password.

Gathering her thoughts, Cameron quickly did a cross-examination of Mr. Harris, taking in details from what Jordon had told her and what she had learned from his file and background.

Typing in the necessary characters, Cameron gave a small smile as the box immediately disappeared, bringing his desktop into view.

After all, she wasn't a sophisticated cyborg for nothing, now was she?

Depot 37: 01: 37 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Sarah waited patiently for the blast doors in front of her to open, her SPAS-12 held tightly in hand. After dropping Cameron back off at her school, Sarah immediately met up with Bob before she attempted to 'beat' the information she required form the man Cameron had rendered unconscious before hand.

Of course, things weren't ever that simple. Especially when it came to men. Men who thought that just because they had a bit of brawn and a bad attitude that they can bully others into getting their way. More so when those same men called her lady.

She hated being called lady.

Something that her 'friend' learned the hard way.

Even so, he still refused to give her what she wanted. So she left the job to Bob. Safe to say that she got what she wanted within a matter of seconds.

Depot 37. An abandoned military facility that hadn't been in use for almost twenty years. Up until recently anyway.

She asked Bob for the importance of the facility, questioning its importance to Skynet and its role in the future.

She was shocked to realize that the depot was to be converted into a Terminator Factory, more specifically a T-888 Factory. To make matters even more complicated, Cameron was built there as well.

After a bout of silence for the reminder of the drive, only pausing momentarily to dump the man off in a mine field, they arrived at the warehouse, only to feel their anxiety rise after Sarah received a call on her cell, John on the other line, on the other side of the doors. A pair of doors that wouldn't open unless with the proper activation key.

A key which was secured around Carter's neck.

After telling them how Carter had killed the remaining members of his team, he entered what Bob confirmed to be Standby Mode. John had fifteen seconds to open the door and run before Carter would reactivate himself.

In other words, don't stall.

Whether or not John was successful in his mission or not remained to be seen. It was approximately two minutes since his call, and Sarah felt herself starting to sweat at the sheer amount of time that it was taking to remove the key.

'Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay!'

The answer to her silent prayers came in the form of the sound of an alarm blaring before the doors started to crack open.

As soon as the blast doors were barely a few feet apart, Bob slipped through, grabbing Carter by the collar of his uniform before throwing him across the room, watching him crash into a pile of barrels before deviating his attention back to the room, locating John in the driver seat of the truck.

Switching the ignition on, John shouted for Sarah, whom already pried the passenger seat door open before taking the seat beside him.

Realizing that John was safe for the moment, Bob turned his gaze back to Carter, whom was currently making his way towards the truck, realizing that someone was trying to make off with it.

Running a scan on the T Unit's frame, Bob came to the conclusion that while it physically was of smaller stature, it had more power in both its power cell and hydraulic systems.

Glancing momentarily around itself, it found no weapon that would give it a edge in battle. Calculating a 21.63% chance of victory with a .321% margin of error, the T-800 made a quick stride towards its intended target before slamming both hands on the T-888 battle chassis, sending it several feet back, landing in a heap on the ground.

Not even breaking his stride, Bob quickly grabbed the T-888 before slamming his knee into the machines abdomen, knocking forward before delivering a similar strike to its face.

Staggering back from the respective blows, Bob didn't hesitate as he grabbed the machine once again, this time on the shoulders.

Carter in retaliation, brought both its arms down, knocking Bob's arms off his shoulders before he tried to duplicate his hold in a similar manner. Bringing his left arm up to block the incoming hold from Carter's right arm, Bob slammed his left forearm into the machine's jugular, forcing his head up, lessening his hold.

Bringing his fist back, Bob smashed his fist into the side of the triple eights skull, before placing his arm underneath its left forearm and latching his fingers on the machines triceps. Adjusting his hold by placing his free hand on the machine's collar, Bob picked him up in the air effortlessly before throwing him forward, watching as he landed head first into the crates of colton in the back of the truck.

Walking towards him, his stance rigid and full of purpose, Bob grabbed Carter by the shoulder, only for the T-888 to turn around abruptly, slamming a bar of colton against his face.

With his sunglasses shattered and slightly askew, Bob was about to remove them when Carter swung the bar once more at his face.

Grabbing hold of it, Bob was about to pry it away from the T-888 when he felt another bar smash into his face, this time revealing the silver gleam of his endoskull near his temple.

Turning his gaze back to its opponent, the T-800 realized quickly that the T Unit before him now held to metal bars of colton, drastically lowering his chances of victory from 21.63% down to 11.26%, this time with a .546% margin of error.

Bringing his arms up in a defensive position, Bob felt one of the metal bars hit his left side of his endoskeleton, before the other hit his clavicular links on his right front shoulder, causing his guard to slacken. The next strike he felt was on his right axial drive motor, which he swiftly brought his arm down on before ripping the bar free from the T-888's hands.

Swinging it in an arc, he slammed it into Carter's skull, only for the machine to slam the bar it still clutched in hand onto his right knee.

Feeling the bar of colton slamming into his servos and pistons on his right knee, Bob went down to the ground, surprise being the visible expression on his face before Carter slammed the bar of colton into his leg again, this time forcing one of pistons out of place, causing a strain to appear, leaving his leg momentarily useless.

Before he could run a diagnostic test and determine the actual damage, the T-888 grabbed Bob by the scruff of his jacket before throwing him further into the warehouse. Temporarily satisfied with the results, he made his way back to the truck, the T-800 struggling to get back on its feet and continue its pursuit.

Sarah watched out of the side mirror as Bob struggled to raise himself up, his right knee refusing to cooperate. Seeing Carter making his way towards them, Sarah turned her head back towards John, who was still struggling to put the truck in gear.

"If you're going to be the savior of mankind, you've got to learn how to drive stick."

Putting the gear on drive and stepping on the clutch, the engine roared to life before the truck started to move, John pressing harder on the gas to make it move even faster.

For a fleeting second, he thought they were going to make it.

But he should have realized that things were never that simple.

Before the truck was even feet of the blast doors, Carter appeared in front of the truck, placing his hands on the hood, pushing the vehicle back inside.

Panic flooded his systems as he hit the gas pedal even harder, only to see it have no effect as Carter began to slowly move the truck backwards, one agonizing step at a time.

Before Sarah could even open the door to handle the machine herself, she watched as a man appeared out of nowhere before grabbing Carter by his shoulders, flinging him across the room, the T-888's body colliding heavily with the pillar before slumping onto the ground.

That was when Sarah and John got a good look at him, and felt their stomachs drop at the sight before them. An image of a man with black spiked hair and cold calculating eyes appeared in their minds from a time in Red Valley, New Mexico.

Cromartie…

Sarah didn't realize the name left her lips until the machine paused, turning his head slowly to meet her gaze.

He paused momentarily to look at both Connors, his eyes glowing a hue of red underneath the sunglasses that covered them.

Reaching into the back interior of his jacket, the man now known as a Terminator, pulled out a M-79 before taking a shell out of its back pocket and loading it.

As soon as he snapped the weapon back in place, he made a straight beeline towards Carter, whom was now on his feet, making his way back to the new T Unit, no doubt processing him as a threat to its mission.

The unidentified Terminator as soon as he was close enough, fired the weapon, hitting Carter right in the chest, sending him flying back into the pillar once more, this time shattering right through it, landing in a heap on the ground.

With its flesh from its torso up burning away, Carter turned his endoskull towards the man, its red eyes glowing as it started to make its way towards him again.

This time the man didn't even hesitate as he fired another round, this time burning the remains of the machine's living tissue before firing again, this time destroying a good portion of its battle chassis. Aiming again, he fired one last round, this one destroying it, completely and utterly.

When the smoke cleared, John glanced inside the small crater, the smell of burnt tissue lingering in the air.

In the center of the crater was the remains of what had once been a fully operational T-888. All that was left was Carter's legs and the left side portion of its endoskull. Everything else was either molted metal or chunks of debris.

Moving its eyes towards Bob, John felt his stomach drop as it took another shell from its pocket before the unidentified machine made its way towards him, reloading the weapon it had in hand.

John and Sarah watched helplessly as it stood in front of Bob, whom was slowly rising to his feet, its right leg buckling slightly at the weight that he was putting on it.

"Robert Phillips?"

Raising his head at the name, Bob stared at the machine for a few seconds, no doubt doing a scan to assert what model the new arrival was.

Extending its hand and slinging the M-79 over its shoulder, it said in a monotone, "Come with me if you want to live."

Dr. Lyman's Office: 04:23 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Cromartie looked at his new face, running a diagnostic scan to make sure that it was as close to perfection as his original scan had predicted. His results came back as an exact 92% match.

Dr. Lyman was still watching him, astonishment and fear consuming his senses. After all, he just spent almost 48 hours straight in reconstructive surgery. Surgery that this man had just gone through without the aid of an anesthetic, something he was sure no human could possibly go though without feeling an unbearable inhuman pain.

"What are you?"

Cromartie didn't answer. There wasn't a reason too.

Dr. David Lyman was going to be dead in a few moments after all.

Resistance Warehouse: 04:53 Hours; Outskirts, Nevada…

Sarah felt her lips thinning and resisted the urge to sneer as Uncle Bob and the T-888 now identified as Richard started unloading the Colton. She had planned on driving the damn truck off a cliff, effectively getting rid of all of the future Terminator Units that would be constructed from it.

Unfortunately for her, both T Units had other plans. While Bob was more docile in his behavior and much easier to give orders to, Sarah realized that like Cameron, who was not above threats to get her way, Richard was the same way, if only more blunt.

When she had ordered him to dump the Colton into the ocean, he had raised the M-79 in his hand before firing it, the shell sailing inches from her head before exploding a few yards behind her.

Bob, whom was busy with securing the colton, turned his head at the blast, only to quickly asses the situation before muttering, "Nice shot."

Richard just fixed him a blank look.

"I missed."

Sarah decided then to let the colton be for now.

She currently was watching the machines unloading the crates upon crates of future endoskeletons into the Resistance Warehouse that Bob and Cameron had created, glaring at Richard's back as he bypassed her without so much as a glance.

Even Bob had the courtesy to acknowledge her presence, and he was basically a savage in comparison to Cameron and Richard, both advanced models whom had a far greater capability to learn.

And yet, it was the older models that actually showed her more respect, the newer models simply either threatened her or attacked her.

She would be lying if she said it didn't bother her. Machine or not, they could think, and on some level feel. They were sentient beings, and it pissed her off that they could so much as brush her off as unimportant.

She was Sarah Connor, John Connor's mother. Kyle had told her that everyone knew who she was, knew her story in the future. She was obviously important if Skynet sent back a machine to kill her, and more so if John sent back machines to protect her.

So why on earth did every single T Unit that was reprogrammed try in subtle and blunt ways to kill and threaten her? First there was Cameron with her threats and promises of killing her should she ever come between her and John, only then for Richard to show up and compound that by actually raising a weapon at her head and firing.

'And he says he missed that shot.' Sarah snorted at the thought.

He didn't miss. He's a machine, a Terminator. They don't make mistakes like that, ever. What he had done was a fear tactic, something she had implicated more then once in her life.

The question was why? Was it of his own violation? Or was there something rooted in that computer processor he had for a brain that called for him to threaten her, possibly kill her if the opportunity presented itself?

Neither option appealed to her.

If he had actually done that on his own accord, then what would stop him from doing it again? Or worse, stop him from doing something similar to John? And if it was the second choice, there was only one person who she knew would have programmed the machine to act they way it did.

Not for the first time since her meeting with Cameron and her revelations about John did she question herself on whether or not he truly hated her or not in the future.

She realized at the moment Richard leveled his M-79 with her head that she had gotten her answer.

And it only gave her the incentive to redouble her efforts to connect with her son, to start thinking about his emotional well-being, not just his physical.

She snapped out of her thoughts as Richard pulled out the last of the colton, Bob turning the truck on before following his fellow machine into the warehouse, no doubt to leave the truck inside there as well.

Brushing the dirt off her jacket, Sarah headed to the EXT, getting in the passenger seat before waiting patiently for the machines to return, fighting the impulse to just take the car and leave them there in the desert.

After all, if she was going to make a connection with her son, she had to be willing to swallow her own pride and work with the machines that he obviously had grown an affection for, even if she didn't like it.

FBI Bureau: 05: 41 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

Ellison watched his latest suspect sit in front of him, a small inconsistent tap of his fingers the only indication of his nervousness, despite the small smile that was on his face.

George Lazlo. B-Film/television actor. A star in his own right.

Then again, James hadn't even heard or saw of the man until today when his face came up on the security tapes of the newest murder scene had to investigate. Just like half of the six murders, the victim, Dr. Lyman, was killed with his neck being snapped. This time though, they had a face to match with the killer.

Not only that, but they also had blood at the scene. Unnatural blood. Blood that didn't have a genetic strain in it. Blood without a host, without a link to any one person in the world.

But blood was blood, and it had to have a match somewhere to someone, and he was positive that person was sitting in front of him.

All he had to do was be patient. Patience was one of the Lord's gifts after all, and he excelled greatly at it.

Leaning forward in his chair, James pushed the folder in front of him to Lazlo, watching as he causally flipped it open before staring at the picture of blood and the dead bodies of Dr. Lyman and Dr. Fleming.

His eyes briefly turned misty before they went back to a neutral stance, the same with his expression, which grimaced for the barest of seconds.

Something that Ellison immediately caught, and realized with a slight pang that only a man completely taken by surprise at what laid before would have.

'Innocence until proven guilty.'

"That blood, Mr. Lazlo, was found at the crime scene of Dr. Lyman. Similar blood was found at the scene of Dr. Fleming's murder as well. Both are a match. And, at the time of Dr. Lyman's murder, you were saw leaving the man's office."

Leaning back into his chair, James gave the folder a momentarily glance before bringing his eyes to level with George's.

"Now unless there are two George Lazlo's running around, which I doubt, then all this points directly to you."

To his credit, George didn't even bat an eye at the accusation thrown at him, instead, he seemed to be even more relaxed.

An actor through and through.

"You said there was blood. Does it match to mine?"

With that, the door opened, Greta walking in, another folder in hand.

Passing it to Ellison before giving him a small smile, she left the room, both occupants eyes on her until the door closed, hiding her from view.

Flipping the folder open with a causal flick of his fingers, James frowned as he read the results.

Negative? How can the blood test prove negative?

Glancing at Lazlo, whom now appeared to be anxious, James allowed a polite smile to grace his face. He may have loss his number one suspect, but at least he could feel the small elation that he was that much closer to capturing whomever the killer was.

And becoming that much closer to finding Sarah Connor.

Closing the folder and outstretching his hand, James said, "Test came out negative. Sorry for your troubles Mr. Lazlo. You're free to go."

Surprised registered on his face before he masked his features once again.

"Really? That's it?"

James' smile stretched a bit further.

"That's it. Sorry for the trouble. I trust you know your way out?"

At Lazlo's hesitant nod which soon turned vigorous, Ellison watched the man leave before his shoulders slumped slightly.

'Guess I'm back on square one.'

Lazlo Residence: 06:45 Hours; Los Angeles, California…

George couldn't believe the luck he was having, all explicitly bad.

First, the new movie he was hoping to get the leading role in was given to another actor, one whom the director and producer felt had a more plausible future in the movie industry then George did. To further his bad mood, because of his abrupt arrest, he had missed an interview for another movie that he was hoping to get another appraising role in. To make matters worse, he was fired from his job at the 7/11, and his rent was due soon.

Mumbling a small bout of curses under his breath, Lazlo threw a slice of two days old pizza into the microwave before setting the time for a minute.

During those sixty seconds, George couldn't help but growl.

Sometimes he felt like god went out of his way to make his life miserable.

With his microwave beeping signaling the end of his meal, George pulled the plate out, letting out a minor hiss as his fingers stung from the heat.

Muttering under his breath, George made his way back to his living room, pausing momentarily to look at his reflection in his body sized mirror.

After all, he had used a good amount of money to get this face, might as well admire it if no one else would, right?

Just as he was taking in his features, he noticed someone that was behind him.

A person who was currently wearing his face.

Before he could even think of a single thing to say, the mysterious look-alike grabbed the back of his head, causing George to let out a strangled cry of pain as he was lifted off his feet before being brought closer to the mirror.

Struggling, George attempted to kick his captors legs, wincing as he did so, noticing immediately that it felt as if he had hit a piece of stainless steel.

With his face mere centimeters from the mirror, George felt a chill run down his spine as he remembered that the man whom was suspected of killing those three individuals that the FBI Agent had mentioned.

A man who was supposed to look like him.

With the grip on his head increasing, George let out a scream of pain which soon turned to terror as his look-alike screamed as well.

Screaming in his voice, in the exact same manner, at the same exact pitch.

That was the last thing that crossed his face as he stared blankly at his broken reflection, the last thing he saw being his own face, morphed into a permanent mask of absolute terror.

James waited patiently for George Lazlo to open the door. He wasn't sure if he was home or not, but he assumed he would be.

After all, being apprehended by the FBI for the murder of three individuals was no small feat, one of those individuals being an FBI informant, and the others being two of most respectable doctors in their fields.

And the simple fact that the man whom was last seen with the now deceased Dr. Lyman was George Lazlo.

'Or wearing Lazlo's face', he reminded himself.

Ellison snapped out of his thoughts as the door opened revealing Lazlo to be standing behind it, an expression of confusion crossing his face.

Giving a friendly smile, James said, "Good afternoon Mr. Lazlo. I'm guessing, that your surprised in seeing me again today? Especially since I promised we wouldn't have to ever again following your interview."

Lazlo still didn't answer him, instead tilting his head to the side, an inquisitive look now present on his face.

Ignoring his lack of a response, Ellison reached into his inside pocket of his jacket before pulling out a card, his contact information written on it. "I feel that Mr. Lazlo that you are in danger. I have no doubt in my mind that the same person who killed Dr. Lyman, is going to come after you and kill you as well. Having two George Lazlo's in the world after all is going to cause our killer some problems that I'm sure he would like to avoid."

Handing the man his card, James gave Lazlo one last friendly smile before he said softly, "In the event that you need to call me about anything, please do. If you feel threatened or in danger, I will only be to happy to help."

Lazlo was stared at him rather blankly for a moment before he gave a rather forced smile.

"Thank you Mr. Ellison. I will be sure to call you in the event something like that would occur."

Nodding his head in acceptance, James outstretched his hand before saying, "I'll hope I won't be receiving that call anytime soon."

Taking a momentarily glance behind him, Lazlo stared blankly into his room for a few seconds before turning his gaze back towards him.

"No. You won't."

James smiled a bit uneasily at the man's behavior.

"I can only hope."

Taking his hand and giving it a firm shake, James quickly left the premise, unaware of Lazlo's eyes watching him until he was out of sight, the man's eyes glowing red as soon as he disappeared.

If he had looked over the man's shoulder, he would have seen the real George Lazlo laying motionlessly on the ground, a small pool of blood gathering around his skull.

Terminator Units/Classes:

T-800 Series; Model 101 (Uncle Bob):

Outdated Terminator Unit. No Longer Mass Produced. Primary Function; Termination. Secondary Function; N/A.

Primary Mission Objective; PROTECT JOHN CONNOR. (In Progress)

Secondary Mission Objective; CREATE WEAPON/EQUIPMENT STORAGE HOUSE FOR HUMAN RESISTANCE. (In Progress)

Third Mission Objective; LOCATE AND JOIN T-888 UNIT, 'RICHARD'. (Complete)

Fourth Mission Objective; TERMINATE ENRIQUE SALCEDA. (Complete)

STATUS: ACTIVE.

***************

T-888 Series; Model 105 (Richard):

Advanced T-850 Terminator Unit. Mass Produced. Primary Function; Termination. Secondary Function; Infiltration.

Primary Mission Objective; PROTECT JOHN CONNOR. (In Progress)

Secondary Mission Objective; UNKNOWN. (Complete)

Third Mission Objective; ASSIST T-800/TOK-715 SERIES IN CONSTRUCTION OF FUTURE RESISTANCE WEAPONRY AND SUPPLIES. (In Progress)

Fourth Mission Objective; TERMINATE T-888 'CARTER' UNIT. (Complete)

Fifth Mission Objective; OBTAIN COLTON SHIPMENT FOR FUTURE RESISTANCE USE. (Complete)

Sixth Mission Objective; UNKNOWN. (In Progress)

STATUS: ACTIVE.

T-888 Series; Model (Cromartie):

Advanced T-850 Terminator Unit. Mass Produced. Primary Function; Termination. Secondary Function; Infiltration.

Primary Mission Objective; TERMINATE JOHN CONNOR. (In Progress)

Secondary Mission Objective; INITATE SELF REPAIR. (Complete)

STATUS: ACTIVE.

//-/Author Note/-//

I'm sorry it me so long to update! One thousand pardons on my part! I was hit with new inspiration for this and decided to write out all my ideas! I pretty much rewrote this entire chapter about five times before I was finally able to get what I wanted out of it! Again, I'm sorry!

I've been trying to also updated all my other stories as well, another reason why it took me so long to update. I have also set up a poll on my profile with a list of five of my stories. Basically, since I don't have the time to work on each one of them, the two stories with the highest number of votes will be the ones I am going to work on, alongside What Should Have Been. The reason why it is not on the poll listings is because this one is a given on my part. The poll will be open for until July 8th, and the two winning stories will be announced upon my next update.

Besides that, I have also figured out what to do concerning my future WSHB Series, writing a synopsis and have everything planned out. I have also started out writing out the first chapter for WSHB II and should have that posted immediately following my final chapter of WSHB I.

More to the point, Richard if any of you remember, makes another appearence! I wonder what he's there for... :D

To close this little piece, remember to review and tell me what you think. Criticism or any suggestions are welcomed and encouraged.

Later. ;P