Her visitor had no time for small talk, or for jokes. Whatever he had on his mind, he was not in the mood for delay.
“Why’d you do it?”
Williams blinked back at him, her reply leavened with innocence.
“Do what?”
“Let Marcus go. Why would you break him out? He’s a machine. Just one more thread in Skynet’s web. I don’t get it.”
She had no intention of letting Connor lord it over her, even if she was a prisoner. Rising, she moved toward him. He did not back away. John Connor did not back away from anything, least of all a renegade—and possibly deranged—attack pilot.
“You say he’s part of Skynet’s planning. Not to me he isn’t. He’s—something else. Something we don’t understand, sure. But I saw a man. Not a machine. A person struggling with the same things we struggle with every day, John. Our own humanity. He’s a man trapped inside of a machine.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “I don’t know how it was done or for what reason, but he’s not a tool of Skynet. I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s—independent.” She met his unwavering stare without flinching. “Why d’you ask? Does it matter? You’ve already formed your opinion, haven’t you?”
Her interrogator did not reply. Sunk deep in thought, Connor was quiet for a long time. Then he looked up at her, and spoke.
“How’s the leg?
She winced.
“Hurts.”
There was another long moment of silence. Then he motioned to the soldier on guard.
“Let her go.”
The man hesitated. “Sir? Orders were to....”
“Let her go. On my order. I’ll take full responsibility.”
With a shrug, the soldier stepped aside. Of the very few people on the base whose commands were to be complied with implicitly, John Connor was foremost.
Williams watched Connor depart. He was clearly lost in thought. While she did not want to disturb him, it would have been nice to know why he had summarily ordered her released. Among the few words they had exchanged, what had convinced him to change his mind about her?
More important, and more maddening—what had caused him to change his mind about Marcus Wright?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The base had not seen this much activity since a flight of six surviving F-15s had managed to avoid Skynet’s attention and arrive safely from Seattle some six months ago. Out on the heavily camouflaged tarmac, a wide variety of aircraft were being armed and prepped for the all-out attack. Pilots chatted with one another while mechanics worked to render even the most badly damaged planes airworthy. On one side of the veiled runway a cluster of technicians were putting the finishing touches on the transmitter unit that would join with others across the planet in the worldwide attempt to shut down Skynet.
Connor wended his way through the organized confusion until he reached the communications center. They were expecting him, but to help prevent tracing, the connection that had been on hold would not be completed until he was present. As soon as he arrived, the operations tech passed him a handset.
“Connor, Command for you.” Connor took the handset.
“This is Connor.”
Ashdown was on the other end, his tone exuberant.
“Connor, are your people ready? Everything’s in motion. Tomorrow we’ll be able to look out on a different dawn. It’ll be a new day for mankind. Myself, I’m going to have a house built right on top of whatever’s left of Skynet Central. With a fence made out of deactivated T-1s. The timer is running.”
“Negative,” Connor told him tersely. “Nobody’s ready. We are not. You are not. We need to stop the attack. The game has changed. I repeat; changed.”
Despite the imperfect connection, the astonishment in the general’s voice came through loud and clear.
“What are you talking about? All our elements are past their release points and in assault positions. Do you have any idea what’s gone into coordinating this assault? Do you realize what it’s liable to cost us to stand down now that everything’s under way? I don’t mean in old-line expense—I’m talking about wasted resources, lowered morale, sacrificed surprise. What possible reason could there be for calling off the attack now?”
Connor swallowed once before responding. He knew how difficult it was going to be to convince Ashdown, but knowing what he knew now there was nothing for it but to try.
“The strategic components of the conflict have been altered. Or to put it another way, something new has been added. Something no one could have predicted and that we can’t account for. Being unable to account for something means it needs to be studied carefully before any large-scale undertakings that involve it are initiated.”
Ashdown’s impatience filtered through the transmission.
“Connor—what the hell are you talking about?”
He tried another tack.
“Delay the attack. I have a chance to infiltrate Skynet and rescue the prisoners. Give me that opportunity, General.”
“No. Absolutely not. This is not the time for a rescue mission, Connor. What you are asking would undermine the whole operation.”
“You’re not hearing me, sir. I support the attack. But not at this price. I will not kill our own people.”
“We’re not ‘killing our own people.’” Ashdown was losing patience. “It’s called collateral damage, Connor. I said that when the time came I’d do the right thing. And I’m doing it. This shutdown signal works. It’s our key to victory. We stay the course—and that’s an order, Connor!”
“I’m telling you, General. We stay the course and we are dead. We’re all dead. Who do you think you are—General Sherman? Tamerlane?”
“Personally, I think Sherman would have approved of what we’re doing today. I know who I am, Connor. Right now it’s who you are that’s troubling me.”
Connor looked over his shoulder. Behind and around him soldiers, pilots, mechanics, tech and support personnel were putting the last touches on the impending attack. The attack that somehow he had to stop. He returned his attention to the handset.
Ashdown wasn’t through.
“We’ve got victory in our grasp and at the last minute, the last second, you and you alone suddenly decide it’s out of reach. All your prattle is bullshit, Connor. This is no time for defeatism. We’re going to win, and I’m not going to let you do anything to put a crimp in what will be the greatest military victory in the history of mankind.”
It was all so familiar, Connor thought wearily. How many times in his remarkable, anguished, astonishing, grief-ridden life had he been forced to suffer through this sort of uncomprehending obstinacy on the part of others? Why, when events came to a head, when critical moments in the confused litany of the future and past materialized, wouldn’t they listen to him? One thing was certain—Ashdown was beyond listening to him, or to anyone else. He tried yet another tack.
“Skynet has Kyle Reese. He was number one on their kill list.”
Ashdown’s reply was as cold as the waters through which Command’s sub was cruising.
“Then that’s his fate, Connor.”
“No! I have to save him. He is the key. The key to the future. The key to the past. Without him we lose everything.”
Ashdown was not listening. Or not hearing. Or both.
“We stay the course.”
“We stay the course and we are all dead.” Connor struggled to control his emotions. “We are all dead. I’m asking you one more time, General. Delay it. A few hours. Enough time for our tech people to finish some simulations I’ve got them working on, and for me to make an attempt to try and rescue Kyle Reese and the other prisoners being held in Skynet Central.”
Ashdown turned deadly calm.