Terminator 3--Terminator Hunt by Aaron Allston

Author:Aaron Allston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

c.11

The Scalpers gathered at the main entrance, huddled together by their dune buggies, away from the entrance guards and the vehicle mechanics, who spoke in hushed tones about the day’s events.

To Sato, the situation seemed a little tense and emotional, but did not speak to him of danger. No one was shooting angry stares their way. There was curiosity, there was finger-pointing … there was no desire for vengeance that he could see. On the other side of the chamber, Murphy stood in a gathering of subordinates, issuing orders to each in turn, dispatching them on various errands. He was inarguably in charge now.

Sato shook his head. It was one of the advantages of dealing with control freaks like Mears, he decided. They did run tight organizations and left behind very clear lines of control.

“How’s your head?” he asked Jenna.

She shook her head, a vigorous gesture. “Hard Mediterranean skull, like they’ve been making for millions of years.”

“Too sturdy for anything to penetrate,” Nix said.

She gave him a half-amused look that promised payback. “J. L. needs to say goodbye to Lana.”

“I did,” J. L. said. “I told her she ought to put in for a transfer to Home Plate or somewhere. I keep thinking they may give her trouble here because she was the boss’s woman, a nonworker.”

“Did you apologize to her?” Jenna asked.

J. L. looked offended. “What for?”

“For saying that she was dumb as a box of hair.”

“I didn’t say it to her.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it every moment you were with her. Up until the point that she was smart enough to save our butts in the mess hall.”

His sigh signaled defeat. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You won’t have the opportunity this time,” Sato said. “Just as soon as we’ve had our first meeting with the she-toaster from hell, we jump in the buggies and clear out. We can’t let her be here long enough to pick up the news about Mears’s death or anything else.”

Jenna turned her attention to the far side of the chamber, to the huge concrete door that remained resolutely shut. “Are they going to bring her in here?”

“Uh-huh.” Sato checked his watch. Arrival could be in two minutes or twenty. “And remember, we’re the only ones here, Murphy included, who know what she is. Anyone not up to the task of driving hundreds of miles with a Terminator in your backseat?”

Jenna the Greek offered a little shudder, but no one spoke up.

“Okay,” Sato said. “Just remember, this is a life-or-death deception. And remember that we have no idea of the extent of her sensors and that she might be able to plant remotes, microphones, something like that, to spy on us even when she’s off at a distance.

“What this means is that, starting the first moment we meet the girl, we’re doing live theater. And we have to remain in character from that point until the team down south bags her. No private communications by whispered word, written note, or glance. If she’s in one buggy and you’re in the other, don’t talk about her being a T-X.

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