So where had Burns found these maniacs? They were stone killers if he'd ever seen any, which he had. Was she aware of what they were? Given her track record so far he had to believe that very little happened around Serena Burns that she wasn't fully aware of.
He plucked the cell phone from his pocket and dialed.
The phone rang once and was answered. "Burns."
"Would you like to tell me just what the hell is going on, Serena?" Jordan demanded, his voice carefully cold.
There was a pause.
"Isn't that what I should be asking you?" she said. "Did they show up? Or… they didn't and you're mad at me because of it."
In fact, she knew exactly what had happened: Six had given her a full report.
Dyson had the boy, and if she wanted him—and she did— then this conversation needed to be handled very carefully. Jordan, she realized, would have to be
eliminated as soon and as discreetly as possible.
"Oh, they showed up all right. And one of your boys almost blew the kid away."
" What? What are you talking about?" Serena put as much exasperation and confusion as she dared into the questions. "Could you please just tell me what happened? Because so far you haven't been very coherent."
Jordan drew a deep breath. Maybe that was true.
"Those three men you sent with me," he said slowly, "did their utmost to kill the Connors and their friend. They were so set on it that I can't help but believe that they were ordered to do so."
Maybe that's saying too much, he thought. If Serena had issued orders to kill, then he wasn't going to prolong his own life by making statements like that one.
I guess maybe I'm a little more panicked than I want to admit. The image of a bland-faced Bob Harris reaching out and almost touching the car while the speedometer registered forty mph kept coming back to him.
"Whoa! Jordan," she said, sounding very indignant. "Slow down here! I did not give anybody orders to kill! Okay?" The T-950 paused for a count often.
" Why would I do that?" she said reasonably. "In what way would that make anything better? Huh?" Another pause. "Can you imagine what the papers would make of it? Can you 'tmagine the questions we'd get asked?
"And why, Jordan? Why? I'm just as happy to have them in prison as dead! All I want is for Cyberdyne to be safe. But it's a company, Jordan. It's not my family,
it's not anybody's family. There's no question of anyone having to die to protect it. Get real!"
He felt almost embarrassed. Serena was making sense here. But what about what I saw?
"Look, Serena, all I know is how they were acting. I mean, I never saw these guys before—"
"Well, neither have I. I sent down to the security shack for three guys who would be willing to travel overnight and those were the guys they sent up. I will check into it as soon as I hang up. Obviously we have a hiring problem."
She waited a moment then let out an exasperated breath.
"Jordan! What the hell happened? Did you arrest the Connors? Are they dead?
Oh, God, please tell me they're not!"
"Nobody's dead," Jordan assured her. "Sarah and their friend, a big guy, got away. But I've got the kid in the backseat, bleeding all over the cushions."
"Oh, God," she repeated. It sounded right. "How badly is he hurt?"
"To be honest, I don't know," Jordan confessed. "I just got him into the car and ran."
"I suggest you pull over, now, and take a look," she said firmly. "I'll wait."
Jordan frowned. He didn't want to stop driving; he fully expected to see Bob come running up the road, even though he knew that was ridiculous.
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, and pulled off the shoulder. Then he got out, opened the back door, and climbed in. The boy was unconscious, or mostly so; a bright, white line showed between his lashes. Dyson pulled him back up onto the seat and the kid moaned.
Jordan lifted the boy's eyelids. One pupil was noticeably larger than the other: concussion for certain. But his color was good and he didn't seem to be going into shock.
Dyson ripped the neck of John's T-shirt and looked at the gunshot wound: the bullet had gone straight through without breaking the bone or cutting major arteries. It was still bleeding pretty freely, though. Dyson tore John's shirt off completely and then ripped it in half, making two pads of the soft material. Then he stripped off his tie and bound the pads in place as best he could.
The head wound worried him. It was bloody, all head wounds were, but the cut was basically superficial. It was the evidence of concussion that bothered him.
Anything might be going on inside the kid's head, there was no way to tell. He gently probed the area around the wound and sighed with relief when he felt solid bone.
Jordan shook his head. He needed expert help on this. Climbing into the front seat again, he picked up the phone. "Serena?"
"I thought you weren't coming back," she said, sounding relieved. "Well?"
Jordan hesitated. "He seems stable right now. But he has a concussion and that's not something to take lightly. I'm going to take him to the hospital."
"No!" Serena said, letting her voice shrill with alarm. "Jordan, you can't. You have to bring him here. We have a top-notch medical facility right here. We'll give him the best care available. Bring him here!"
"Serena," Jordan said slowly, "what are you thinking of? This kid is hurt, dammit! He has a head wound. Maybe you're prepared to take the blame if he dies or suffers brain damage, but I don't want that on my conscience."
"Jordan, his crazy mother is still out there somewhere. And right now she's probably very, very angry. Given her record, she's heading for Cyberdyne with blood in her eye.
"If we can show her that her son is alive and that we're taking good care of him, right here at what she might well consider ground zero, then maybe she won't hurt anyone. Do you want the deaths of who knows how many scientists and secretaries and who knows who else on your conscience?"
Jordan compressed his lips and thought. She was probably right.
Connor was probably headed toward Cyberdyne. And he personally knew what kind of mayhem she was capable of causing. But the one thing in her life that Sarah Connor had always been careful of was her son.
"Okay, look," he said. "I'll just get him looked over and I'll send him on to you by ambulance."
"Jordan! He's been shot! That means that any doctor or clinic or hospital you take him to has to report it to the police. Then the police have to come and
question everybody, then everybody has to wait for somebody, somewhere to give you permission to send him down here. By then we could be a smoking hole in the ground."
"It's three hours to Cyberdyne," he snapped.
"If the kid is stable that won't matter. You said he was stable," Serena insisted.
Jordan rubbed his face with his hands. "All right, you mentioned the police," he said. "What are they going to say when they find out that I've dragged this boy down there and didn't report the shooting, and didn't take him to the hospital, and didn't stay here in Sacramento to be questioned, and didn't report his fugitive, cop-killer mother's presence in their town. You do realize that you're asking me to break the law, don't you?"
"I do," she said solemnly. "And I'll take the responsibility. Since we'll undoubtedly be shooting it out with Connor and her allies before the day is out, I think we can plead mitigating circumstances. Make him as comfortable as you can and bring him here. His presence in this facility is the only thing that will stop that maniac."