Late Evening

Van Nuys (Apartment Block 172)

Jason checked his chronometer again as he loaded the last bullet into his new-found friend, the Jericho 941, otherwise known as the “Baby Eagle”. After letting Cameron go about her business, Jason had decided to stock up on a few essential supplies, not least of which included a new gun, his old 9mm having jammed one time too many. Though Jason, as a rule, had no care for any material possession, this weapon was the exception. Being powerful, accurate, and discreet, unlike its “father model” the Desert Eagle.

Jason had just slid the clip into the grip when he heard a sharp creak outside the door and froze, attuning his ears to the noise. A moment’s silence passed; whoever was outside had stopped at his door. Jason thumbed back the hammer and flattened himself against the wall, ordering the poly-alloy to blend him with its surface, effectively making him invisible assuming they don’t look too close.

The door opened and a petite figure stood in its frame, silently scanning the dimly lit surroundings of the Spartan apartment. She stepped onto the threshold, the lamp light revealing those familiar features, which were marred by several small cuts and a fair amount of dirt. Cameron looked from right to left, even glancing at the ceiling briefly before closing the door behind her.

“I know you’re here, Jason.”

She would find him eventually, and Jason saw no reason to drag out the inevitable, so he stepped forward; weapon raised and camouflage returning to his default clothing. Jason aimed at eye level, ready to fire a round in each one at the slightest warning. Cameron watched him carefully, studying his posture and stress levels, determining that he was all too ready to pull the trigger. Some reassurance was required.

“It’s okay, Jason. I’m not here as your enemy.”

“Then what are you here as?”

Cameron gave him the smallest of smiles, one he recognised all too well.

“It’s me, Jason.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her, a brief scan showing that she’d recently suffered electrical damage from an unknown source. But he put aside the statistics and looked with his eyes, not his mind, and saw the Cameron who stood beside him against John and his men in 2027.

“Cameron? That really you, or is all this just a trick? Did John send you?”

Cameron shook her head, dust and dirt falling from her unkempt hair, along with a twig or two. Jason slowly lowered his gun and considered her closely for a second before turning it over and holding it out for her to take. She took it gently, without any force, and turned it around in her other hand before handing it back again. Satisfied, Jason took it from her and holstered it, a smile touching his lips for the first time in ages.

“Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“I’ll bet. So… you wouldn’t happen to have some good news for me, would you?”

Cameron gave him an apologetic smile and tugged at her hair pointedly.

“I wasn’t successful. John has a new protector, one with built-in plasma weaponry; I was forced to retreat.”

Jason remained stoic on the outside, but on the inside he was screaming in frustrated rage. Cameron seemed to detect his dissatisfaction and tilted her head to one side, a sullen expression crossing her features.

“It wasn’t easy for me. I almost killed him and I felt… It hurts. Why does it hurt?”

Jason quelled his internal pandemonium to consider her question, which was a thoroughly baffling one coming from a machine. She’s not your average machine, he reminded himself.

“That depends. What do you… feel… for him, exactly?”

Still, asking her what she felt was still a little out of the ordinary for Jason. Cameron furrowed her brow as she calculated her “feelings” for John, only to be met with more confusion upon reflection.

“It doesn’t match anything in my records. But it’s strong and… I… I don’t want to hurt him, but I know I must, and it hurts.”

She gave him a pitying expression of incomprehension, the result (he deduced) of her programming clashing with her feelings.

“You’re devoted to him, yes?”

“Utterly.”

“Then what you’re feeling is a conflict between your… love… for him and your mission. You have to kill him, but because you love him, it hurts. It’s called emotional attachment, Cameron. In order to complete your mission, to which you are bound, you must commit that sacrifice of feeling. When you terminate him, it will agonise you, but your purpose will be fulfilled. It’s a double-edged sword.”

Cameron stared past his shoulder as she took in his words, a smile flicker of a smile on her lips.

“Thank you for explaining. You are a lot more knowledgeable than I recall.”

Jason smirked and leaned against the chair, his arms crossing together.

“Well you know us cyborgs…”

“We don’t sleep.”

“We don’t sleep.”

A second’s silence passed at their unison and then Jason broke into laughter and Cameron smiled widely, a small giggle escaping her. Jason shook his head and stared at the floor, smiling to himself as the presence of his Cameron sunk in, dispelling his previous depressions. So she failed her mission at the first try, so there’s an advanced model between him and John, none of this mattered because Cameron was at his side once again. As far as Jason was concerned, all was right with the world. Once his laughter had subsided, Jason looked her up and down, noticing the extent of her rough appearance.

“You might wanna take a look at yourself in a mirror, there’s a shower in the other room that you can use. I’ll pop out and get you some clean clothes, okay.”

Cameron nodded and disappeared into the bathroom without another word, closing the door for privacy that Jason had assumed she wouldn’t need or value. Hearing the rush of water and sensing the rising temperature, Jason picked up his coat and keys, locking the door behind him before proceeding down the bare corridor and into the lift. As he waited for it to finish its torturously slow descent, Jason began formulating a plan to draw John out of hiding, his mind abuzz with possibilities, all of them kept in order by his neural net.

The lift ground to an unexpected halt and opened at level 2 as opposed to the ground floor. Jason tapped the button a few times but received no response, so with an annoyed sigh; he stepped out of the lift and proceeded down the corridor to the staircase. He jumped the first flight, landing on level 1 and was about to jump to the ground floor when he heard a shrill cry for help. Curiosity getting the better of him, Jason peered through the glass of the nearby door to see a man trying to force himself onto a woman.

Normally he’d just carry on without a care, but this woman had brown hair, similar to Cameron’s, and that similarity, regardless of how small, prompted him to take action. He burst through the door and delivered a single strike to the man’s chest, sending him flying down the corridor. He followed up with a busting kick to his privates, earning an excruciating groan of agony from the man. The woman gathered her handbag and scurried away without a single word of thanks. Jason watched her leave with a slight frown.

“No really, it was nothing. Just happy to help, there’s no need to thank me or anything. Honestly, some people, eh?”

The man groaned in reply and Jason brushed aside his annoyance as he purposely stepped on the man’s fingers before going his way.

--

An hour later Cameron reached out for the nozzle and gave it a twist, reducing the flow of water until it became little more than a dribble, the result of poorly maintained pipes. She pulled her hair back, gathering it together in a ponytail as she squeezed out the excess water, feeling it drip down her back. She paused, following a single drop as it weaved its way down her leg and onto the tiled floor where it merged with a larger puddle. Realising her lapse, Cameron turned her attention back to drying her hair and pulled the curtain back…

…only to find Jason standing there holding a towel, his eyes fixed on her face, not wandering anywhere else. She took the towel from him and wrapped it around herself, after which he smiled slyly.

“I got you some clothes.” He inclined his head to a pile on a stool to his right.

“I’ll leave you to change in private.”

“Thank you.”

Jason turned to leave, but as he placed his hand on the door, he paused and looked over his shoulder at her.

“About that…?”

“I learned long ago that modesty is important.”

Jason smiled and nodded before leaving, closing the door behind him. Cameron watched it for several seconds before picking up another towel and drying her arms and face, her stagnant thoughts drifting back to her encounter with John. She was intrigued by his behaviour that day and was overcome by the desire to understand the reasons behind his squeamishness, only to discover that she had touched upon a painful memory for him.

She had whispered her apology to him in his sleep, a genuine, heart-felt apology. She cared about him so much, and she was going to kill him the next time they meet. She would have to play upon his emotions in order to get close enough. She knew it would work, but that didn’t mean she relished the thought of deceiving him in that way. Death by love, the kindest method, she mused.

Cameron let the towel covering her body drop to the floor and began scrubbing her torso and legs, drying them with efficiency beyond any ordinary girl. Once finished, she hung the towels up to dry and examined the clothing Jason had bought her, intrigued by his knowledge of her preferences. He’d bought her some deep purple underwear, white cotton socks, black tight-fitting jeans and matching jacket, as well as a camo-top. She slipped into the attire with little difficulty, Jason having acquired all the right sizes.

Fully clothed, she opened the bathroom door, a comb in hand, and began getting rid of the knots that had accumulated during her hasty escape from the Connor residence. Jason was sat in an armchair, examining his gun carefully; occasionally popping the clip out and slapping it back in again. Cameron watched him for a moment before sitting down in an adjacent chair, with no thoughts for conversation.

Jason continued removing and replacing the clip for several minutes before speaking, breaking the silence between them.

“So… this other machine; what more can you tell me about it?”

Cameron accessed her visual and sensory data, displaying her deep scan of the model in her HUD.

“He was a small frame model, endoskeletal structure does not match anything in my records, and he possessed the ability to release a blast of plasma energy from the fingers on his right hand.”

Jason nodded, linking his hands together as he ran through a list of possible matches, but needed a little more to go on.

“Describe his endoskeleton.”

“It was heavily armoured with none of the servos or circuitry exposed.”

Jason added this to the previous data and pin-pointed the exact Series to which she referred.

“Ah yes, the Tee Triple Nine. Well that figures; trust John to send an advanced model now, when we’re so close to winning.”

“We must avoid a direct confrontation.”

Jason gave her an expression that told her she’d just stated the obvious.

“Well unfortunately that can’t be avoided. Triple-nine’s are notoriously difficult to outwit, we’re just going to have to work together to destroy him. John should be easy enough. Do you want the honours or shall I?”

Cameron stopped combing and stared at the floor dejectedly.

“I’ll do it, I own him that much.”

Jason raised an eyebrow inquisitively and leaned forward in his chair.

“You owe him?”

Cameron met his gaze and continued her combing.

“He has such a terrible future ahead of him. I can spare him from that, and I will, I owe him some peace.”

Jason leaned back again and regarded her carefully, a small smile on his lips as he quoted:

“ ‘And lo, the boy looked upon the face of beauty, and beauty stayed his hand. And from that day forward, he was as one dead.’ ”

Cameron stared at him in confusion.

“It’s a modified quote, Cameron; it means I know how to lure him to his death.”

“Oh, thank you for explaining. How will we lure him?”

Jason removed a phone from his pocket, her phone, and flipped it open before holding it out for her to take.

“Call him, tell him how much you need him, and don’t lie about it. Be genuine. Get him to meet you in a secluded location.”

Cameron took the phone from him and stared at it for a long moment before entering John’s number.

“This will work better without any distractions.”

Jason took the hint and gestured to the bedroom. Cameron entered and closed the door behind her, shutting out the light from the lounge and separating herself from Jason. Once convinced that he was not standing by the door, Cameron approached the bed and sat down, pressing the dial button. Six beeps later and it was ringing, once, twice, thrice, four times before the line was picked up and she heard his voice once more.

“Cameron?”

She took a moment to calculate the best tack before replying, adding a hint of emotion to her voice that was not entirely fabricated.

“John?”

--

Late Evening

Calabasas Highlands (Connor Residence)

John’s heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst straight through his ribcage, the product of mixed fear and relief at hearing her voice again, her tone of anxiety obvious even to him. He took a deep breath, his hand shaking slightly and his palms becoming instantly sweaty.

“C-Cameron… W-Where are you?”

A moment’s pause followed.

“I’m… safe. But I haven’t much time.”

“What? What are you…?”

“I’m damaged, John. I-I won’t last much longer, I… Help me… help me, please… John?”

John closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, brutally beating his brain into remembering her knack for trickery.

“H-How am I supposed to believe a word you’re saying? You tried to kill me, remember.”

She went silent for a moment before emitting a small sob and John felt his heart clench at the sound.

“I’m sorry… It was Jason, he… he… did something to me, I couldn’t control myself…”

John envisioned Jason tinkering with her chip and felt his blood boil.

“Okay, it’s okay, I forgive you, but you have to tell me one thing; if I find you, can you stop yourself from attacking me again?”

“I-I think so… but I can’t… I… I don’t know how long I can last… My systems are shutting down, John… Please help me.”

John held the phone against his chest, muffling her cries for him, and choked on his own tears for a moment before placing the phone back against his ear, wiping away the tears with his free hand.

“J-Just tell me where I can find you, okay.”

“I’m in an old basement, somewhere in Van Nuys, you know the old school?”

“You mean the one that burned down last year?”

“Yes, that one, I’m there. You can find me there. Please hurry, John. I can’t last for much longer.”

John drew a shuddering breath and pressed the phone to his lips.

“I’m coming Cam, I promise. Just hold on, okay.”

The line went dead, replacing her voice with the dull whine of a broken connection. John snapped his phone shut and buried his face in his hands for a moment, allowing the raw emotion consume him for a moment before wrenching back his composure and wiping the tears away again. He was shaking all over, amazed at the extent to which her call had affected him.

If she was to be believed, Cameron was badly damaged by Nathan’s assault, though how she’d gotten all the way to Van Nuys was beyond him. John was not a complete idiot though, and he knew that this was almost definitely a trap, though he couldn’t know for sure if she was actually dying or not. Either way, he wasn’t going to risk it by ignoring her. In one swift movement, John threw his sheets off of him and got dressed in a flash, gathering his essential screwdriver and favourite 9mm.

He peered out of his door and listened intently for the sound of Sarah’s rustling, Derek’s snoring, and Marty’s mumbling. Hearing all three, John tip-toed downstairs and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Timmy waiting for him at the bottom. The cat stared up at him and gave him an accusatory meow.

“What? Shoo. Go on. Get.”

The cat gave him another meow before stalking off into the kitchen where the T-700 was standing like a statue, staring out of the window as ordered. He was so devoted to his task that though he knew John was there, he didn’t break his sight from the window for a single second. John smirked at the simple machine and proceeded into the living room to retrieve Sarah’s shotgun, which she had left on the coffee table. Satisfied that it was fully-loaded, John put on his boots and gathered the keys before heading out the front door.

He unlocked the car and got inside, placing the shotgun in the passenger seat and checked the rear-view mirror, once again jumping out his skin when he caught Nathan’s reflection in the back seat.

“JESUS! GOD! Wha-?! What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question. Little late for a drive, don’t you think?”

John sighed in frustration, trying to steady his heart rate before he suffered an aneurism. Nathan studied him carefully, taking note of the shotgun and coming to one conclusion.

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

John glared over his shoulder at him, finding his perception to be all-the-more annoying with each passing moment. There would be no point in lying to him, and he might actually prove useful, so long as he understood the score.

“Okay, look; Cameron just called me. She says you damaged her and needs my help. She told me to meet her at the old school in Van Nuys, and before you say it; yes, I do know it’s a trap. You can either help me or not, your choice, but I’m going regardless. Understand?”

Nathan got out of the car and opened the passenger seat, grabbing the shotgun as he sat in the seat and slammed the door shut.

“If she’s there, Jason will likely be close behind. Drive. But remember, if she proves too much trouble than she’s worth, I will destroy her.”

John shoved the key into the ignition and gave it a twist, bringing the engine to life.

“Not if I disable her first.”

--

1:32am

Van Nuys (Apartment Block 172)

Cameron emerged from the bedroom, wiping the tears from her face as she pocketed the phone. Jason got to his feet and waited silently for her report. She took a moment to feel the twinge of disgust for herself at having manipulated John in that way, she really hated having to drag this out. The sooner she killed him, the sooner she could end her sorry existence and share his fate.

“It’s done. He’ll meet us in the old school.”

--

2:13am

Van Nuys (The Old School)

The car screeched to a halt outside the dilapidated building, the old library being the only part of the school still standing. Nathan craned his neck to look at the sign above the double door entrance, reading the Latin inscription upon it.

“So this is the school. I was expecting something a little more… intact.”

John snorted and pulled the clutch before getting out, shotgun in hand. Nathan followed suite and scanned the building, detecting a humanoid shape in the basement. He raised an eyebrow and turned to John, who was tapping the shotgun absent-mindedly.

“She’s in there, alright; the basement to be exact.”

“Any sign of Jason?”

Nathan scanned the building once more, detecting no one else present.

“He’s not here.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t around.”

John gripped the gun tightly and stepped up to the door, pushing it open with the barrel, allowing Nathan to enter and safety-check the immediate room. He gave John a flick of the wrist, indicating the all-clear, and he stepped inside, shotgun raised and ready. They proceeded like this through every room until finally reaching the rear of the building and the door to the basement below. Nathan smashed the door down, sending it cascading down the stairs. John gave him an incredulous look, but Nathan just shrugged and started the descent.

John followed him down, switching his torch on as the darkness took hold. Through the narrow beam of light, John could tell that the basement was as large as the entire library above, with several stacks of old and dusty books, not to mention the odd dozen bookshelves. Unlike John, Nathan could see perfectly well in the pitch black and immediately picked up a heat signature coming from behind a shelf to his right. Nathan snapped open a flare and held it high, illuminating the entire room with a blinding white light that settled down to a perfect glow.

He placed the flare on top of a shelf and tapped John on the shoulder, inclining his head to the shelves to his right. John slipped his finger over the trigger and gave it a tiny squeeze, poised to apply the full pressure needed to deliver a blast. A faint rustling sound reached his ears and John tensed. Nathan stood a little behind him, his right hand glowing as he charged his plasma weaponry. John took a single step towards the shelves and immediately stopped when a hand suddenly gripped the side of one.

Cameron emerged from behind the bookcase, looking a little worse for wear, but still as bright as ever, her eyes lighting up upon seeing John. She staggered out into the open, giving an odd twitch, a tired smile on her face. John felt the lump in his throat re-emerge at the sight of her, his mind flashing simultaneously to their kiss and the subsequent throttling that occurred afterwards.

“You came for me.”

She stumbled forward and tripped. John instinctively moved to help her but Nathan caught his arm and shook his head in warning. Taking the hint, John pulled away from Cameron and raised the shotgun again, aiming for her head. Cameron staggered back to her feet, eyeing the gun in confusion, a small flicker of hurt in her features.

“John, it’s me, remember. I won’t hurt you, I promised.”

“Prove it.”

Cameron frowned and looked around at her surroundings.

“How?”

“Let Nathan restrain you so I can remove your chip.”

Cameron’s eyes flicked to Nathan, who watched her intently with a cold glare.

“He’ll destroy me if I let him. I don’t wanna go, John.”

John gripped the shotgun tighter and took a step back.

“Then how can I trust you?”

“John, it’s me. Cameron. You can trust me, you always have.”

“Except when you’re trying to kill me.”

Cameron looked visibly hurt by his rejection and her eyes started to brim with tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words escaped her, instead she held out her hand for him to take. John was taken aback by the gesture and felt an overwhelming need to reach out and take it. As if reading his mind, Nathan tightened his grip on John’s arm and whispered in his ear.

“It’s a trick. Don’t forget what she is.”

John swallowed Nathan’s words and kept his distance from her steely fingers. Cameron simply splayed her fingers to their max and tilted her head to one side, giving John a pitying expression that tore into him, stirring the broken shards that were once his heart. Seeing that he wasn’t going to comply, Cameron let out a small wail and collapsed against the bookcase, still reaching out for him as desperate tears rolled down her cheeks.

“John, please. Please help me. I need you. I need you.”

John remained rooted to the spot and watched her without expression, determined not to fall for her tricks. But then that little voice in his head finally spoke out; what if she is telling the truth? John swallowed again at the thought as she slid to her knees, her arm stretched as far as it would go. What if she really is dying and you’re just watching it happen? Are you prepared to risk the chance of being wrong? Do you love her enough to give her the benefit of the doubt?

Nathan could see the conflict in his eyes and gave his arm a rough shake.

“Hey! Come to your senses! She will kill you!”

John lowered the shotgun and pulled himself free from Nathan’s grip.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Before the Triple-9 could act, John reached out for Cameron’s hand, the tips of his fingers brushing hers. She smiled gratefully as he slid his palm onto hers, but as her fingers slowly closed around his hand, Nathan decided that enough was enough and released a blast of red plasma. The blast struck Cameron in the chest and hurled her across the room, smashing into several bookshelves before crashing to the floor, unmoving. John cocked the shotgun and angrily pressed it to Nathan’s head, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull the trigger.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

“I did it because you’re letting your feelings for her to cloud your judgment. She’s playing you. Another second and she would’ve pulled you close enough to rip your throat out with her teeth.”

John struggled with the urge to pull the trigger, but removed the barrel from his head after a long moment, roaring in mixed frustration and annoyance at him self. He looked over at Cameron’s inert body and withdrew his screwdriver, but before he could take another step towards her, he was met with the bottom of a boot and pain exploded across his face as he staggered back into Nathan. Before he could make sense of what happened, Nathan roughly threw him aside and he collided with a stack of books, the shotgun slipping from his grip and clattering across the floor, straight into the hands of a now active Cameron.

John cleared his vision, smelling the blood that was steadily dripping from his nose. His pulse raced as he saw Jason up close, struggling against Nathan’s grip as the machine ploughed him through a bookcase, giving John a clear view of Cameron. She held the shotgun at her side and watched John for a moment, her head tilted to one side, before raising the weapon and taking aim. With a cry of shock, John dived for cover, the stack of books exploding as the blast tore apart the place he’d occupied only a second earlier.

“Cameron, stop! You don’t have to do this, you can fight it! Please fight it!”

She hesitated for a second before firing again, shattering his hiding place to splinters, forcing him to dive elsewhere, drawing his pistol in mid roll. Cameron followed his progress with cold determination, once again firing at him, and once again missing him by inches. John retaliated by firing two rounds into her chest. She paused and examined her wounds with an expression of mild surprise before raising the shotgun again, a flicker of anger on her features.

Oh… holy… crap, he thought before bolting across the room, desperately outrunning several frenzied blasts.

--

Jason used his current momentum to roll back to his feet and narrowly dodged a skull-cracking punch from Nathan, countering by grabbing his wrist and sweeping his leg across the machine’s, just as he did with Cameron. Unlike Cameron, however, Nathan stood firm and all Jason got for his trouble was a sharp jarring pain to his shin. He staggered back, drawing his blades as Nathan clenched both fists, ready to put them through his head and chest, respectfully.

Jason slashed back and forth, cutting into Nathan’s flesh but only creating sparks against the hyper-alloy beneath. Remembering that this model’s utilities are protected, Jason retracted his blades and focused on avoiding the Triple-9’s punches instead, one of which struck him squarely in the chest, snapping a rib and driving it straight into his left lung. Jason gasped in pain and surprise as his breathing capacity was cut cleanly in half. He quickly quietened the pain and ducked another crushing blow, diving behind a bookcase and hurtling towards the other side of the basement.

Out of nowhere, Jason collided with John and they both crashed to the floor, the wind knocked out of the both of them. Nathan reappeared in a matter of seconds but before he could strike, Cameron leapt forth and slammed him against the wall, Nathan responded by grabbing by the throat and hurling her into a table. Before she could get back to her feet, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her through the debris, leaving John and Jason to recover alone.

John was the first to get to his feet, but Jason was close behind. John wasted no time and squeezed off two rounds into Jason’s chest, puncturing his other lung. Jason gasped and swiftly spin kicked the gun from John’s hands before landed an open palm strike to his chest. John slammed against the wall with a grunt of pain but his years of combat training came back to him in a torrent of pure adrenaline as he blocked a strike to his face and retaliated with one of his own.

Jason was surprised by his reactions and angrily grabbed John’s jacket and pulled him around in a full 360 spin, once again driving him into the wall before hurling him across the room where he collided with the other side. Before the boy could recover, Jason was on him and smashed his head against the wall. John let out another grunt and buried his elbow in Jason’s face, causing him to stagger back. He then followed up by kicking the Infiltrator in the mid-section, but Jason once again took the initiative and brushed his leg aside.

John aimed another punch for his face but Jason blocked and countered by grabbing the back of John’s neck and pulling forward into a stack of shelves, causing several heavy leather-bound books to fall on top of his head. John let out a roar of pure rage as he swung around with another punch, receiving a jab to his throat in response. While he sputtered at the sudden loss of breath, Jason grabbed the front of his jacket and lifted him off the ground before driving him through the bookcase, straight to the floor.

John coughed up a mouthful of blood as his body screamed in agony; he couldn’t win this. Even with both lungs compromised, Jason was still capable of fighting, just like a machine. He was stronger, faster, and overall a much better fighter. John didn’t stand much of a chance, but that didn’t mean he would just give up, far from it. Jason placed his boot on John’s throat and pressed down, but the boy retaliated by driving his screwdriver into Jason’s ankle. TheI-950 cried out in agony as John twisted the tool, before ripping it out again. He staggered away and leaned against the wall to catch his breath, allowing John a small respite wherein he too got to his feet.

They eyed each other for a long moment, both awaiting the other’s next move. Before either of them could act, however, Cameron came crashing into their midst, her left leg clearly damaged and her right arm dislocated. Nathan appeared instantly and delivered one last blast of plasma to her already crippled form before aiming for Jason. The blast lit up Jason’s body like a Christmas tree, his neural net screaming a thousand warnings of danger and damage reports. His two halves cried out incoherently as his neural net went into overdrive:

Offonoffonburningburningbrightlightburningbrightoffonoffburningburning.

He slipped into the twilight of semi-consciousness as his neural net performed an emergency shut down, rendering Jason little more than a vegetable until it could reboot. He slid to the floor, apparently dead, and John let out a sigh of relief. Nathan was also convinced that he had successfully fried the Infiltrator’s neural net and turned his attention to Cameron, who was starting to stir. He charged up another shot as Cameron looked up at John, reaching out feebly for his touch. Before he could deliver the strike, however, John scooped up the shotgun and blasted Nathan at close range, sending him flying into a stack of shelves.

Jason’s eyes flicked red briefly as his neural net came back online and his consciousness was fully restored. He quickly took in his surroundings, seeing Cameron crumpled on the floor and John and Nathan wrestling with each other for control of the shotgun. Jason knew they couldn’t possibly win this; the Triple-9 barely had a scratch on him whereas he and Cameron were on the brink of total shutdown. He assessed his mission and decided upon the most prudent action: evasion.

Jason leapt to his feet and smashed the beam above John and Nathan, causing the roof to collapse on top of them both, the latter shielding the former from the debris. Jason wasted no time in grabbing Cameron and dragging her up the stairs, and once out of the basement, he lifted her heftily into his arms and staggered out of the building and straight to their stolen car. He dumped her in the back and jumped behind the wheel, once again speeding away from the scene of another failed assassination attempt, the irony not lost on him as he hammered the dashboard in frustration.

--

Nathan cleared away the rubble and pulled John free from the collapsed beam, but he tore his arm from Nathan’s grip and glared at him.

“I TOLD YOU WE WEREN’T GOING TO DESTROY HER!!”

“And I told you I wasn’t going to show any lenience! She’s a liability, John, and she’ll be the death of you! Why can’t you see that?”

John took up the shotgun and slammed the butt into Nathan’s face. The Triple-9 pinned John against the wall and snatched the shotgun from his grip. John spat a mouthful of blood into Nathan’s face, all of his rage and hatred bubbling to the surface; it was easier to hate the machine than him self. Nathan wiped the blood away without expression and let John fall to the floor where he dissolved into tears, clutching his chest as the pain of his injuries caught up with him.

“You… you don’t understand… what she… means to me… I can’t do this without her…”

Nathan let out a sigh of annoyance and scanned the room, finding no trace of Jason or Cameron; they were gone.

“I need her, do you hear me? I need her!”

“Yeah, I hear you, and do you wanna know what I hear? The ramblings of an illogical human who fails to see the truth when it kicks him in the face. Your feelings for her are what brought you here, straight into a trap. You almost got yourself killed today, where’s the logic in that; risking your life for the sake of a machine?”

John slowly got back to his feet, still clutching his chest with murder in his eyes.

“Screw logic. If logic leads to a hollow existence where nothing is ever good and everything certain, then to hell with it, because she’s the only good thing I have left. Now I am going to save Cameron, and if you try to destroy her again; I swear I’ll tow you to the scrap yard myself.”

They both met each other’s gaze for a long moment as the full meaning of John’s conviction sunk into Nathan’s metal skull, causing him to give John a sardonic grin before helping him properly to his feet.

“We’ll see.”


To be continued…

Next: Chapter 08: Me, Myself, & John
Previous: Chapter 06: Outdated