“Yes, sir,” Callahan said.
“And not just for your own sakes, either,” Connor added. “If it hadn’t been for Star figuring out that something was wrong and pestering everyone until we pulled a hunting team and chopper back to look for you, we could have lost many more people to those T-700s. Including all of you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw Callahan wince.
“Yes, sir,” he said in a low voice. “We understand.”
“Actually, I don’t think you do,” Connor said, his voice still stern. “You have no idea what you wandered into down there. In fact, we’re still figuring it out. The search teams have already found one hangar-sized chamber at the far end of the tunnel, and they think there may be more.”
“Something that big survived the explosion?” Zac asked incredulously.
“Yes, and I suspect it was deliberately designed to do so,” Connor said. “Skynet had an impressive array of repair and refurbishment equipment down there, plus weapons, ammunition, and explosives. And, just for good measure, we also found the radio jammer that’s been making such a mess of our local communications.”
“And Terminators,” Kyle murmured.
“A lot of Terminators,” Connor confirmed grimly. “We’ve destroyed at least a hundred T-600s and T-700s already. And as I said, we haven’t even finished going through the whole place yet.”
“And you said it was designed to survive the attack?” Callahan asked.
“So it would seem,” Connor said. “Some kind of contingency redoubt, set up on the chance that the Resistance ever managed to launch a successful attack.” He gestured in the direction of the tunnel. “Interestingly enough, we nearly set up camp three kilometers that way, which would have put us almost directly above the main chamber. Luckily for us, we decided we liked this spot better.”
Kyle shuddered. All that equipment, all those weapons, all those Terminators... and once again Skynet had chosen to turn those resources directly against John Connor.
“That’s the other lesson you should take away from this,” Connor continued. “One of the two things in this world that you can depend on is Skynet’s single-minded determination. Short-term and long-term both.”
He gestured toward the three of them; and as he did so, the sternness faded from his face.
“Which brings me to the commendation part of this meeting,” he said. “I could give you a long speech about your bravery and resourcefulness, and what your own determination did for me and everyone else in the group. But since you already know those details, it would be pretty much a waste of time. So instead, I’ll just say thank you. And well done.”
Kyle swallowed hard, his last memory of Yarrow hovering in front of his eyes. He’d given his life for the others, just as Marcus Wright had died saving Kyle and Connor and all of Skynet’s other prisoners.
Kyle had nearly had to make that same sacrifice. Someday, he knew, he would have to do it for real. He could only hope he would meet his death as bravely as they had.
“Thank you, sir,” Callahan said for all of them “We’re glad we could be of service.”
“As I’m sure you’ll continue to be,” Connor said, eyeing each of them in turn. It seemed to Kyle that his gaze lingered a bit longer on him than on the other two, but that might have been his imagination. “And to that end, effective immediately, the three of you are being transferred to Barnes’s shock force. You’ll be trained as a fireteam, with the goal of eventually being integrated into Echo platoon.”
Kyle felt his eyes widen. A fireteam assignment? Already?
“I—yes, sir,” Callahan said, sounding as surprised as Kyle felt. “But I thought...” He stopped.
“You thought there was a longer evaluation period,” Connor finished for him. “Normally, there is. But yesterday the three of you went through the fire together. Some people don’t survive that kind of challenge. Those who do come out stronger.”
Connor gestured toward them. “I said a minute ago that Skynet’s determination was one of the two things you could count on in this world. The other is the courage and trustworthiness of your teammates. You’ve already become that kind of team. All we’re going to do is make it better.”
“Thank you, sir,” Callahan said. “We won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” Connor smiled. “Now, go get some more rest. Barnes could be back at any time. And as I’m sure Reese will tell you, he can be a very demanding man to work for.”
It had been a long day, with a short and tense night before it, and by the time Blair finally woke up she found she’d slept for nearly nine hours.
Barnes hadn’t slept as long, she discovered as she emerged from Preston’s house. Neither, apparently, had anyone else in town. Aside from Preston and Hope, the rest of Baker’s Hollow had already gathered their most vital belongings and disappeared, melting into the woods, heading God only knew where as quickly as they could.
Preston and Hope had stayed behind to say good-bye. So, to Blair’s surprise, had Halverson.
And as they all said their farewells, Blair noted the subtle but real change had taken place in the three of them and their relationships.
Preston had gained an edge of quiet steel, his leadership no longer based solely on compromise and cooperation but now with a dose of confidence and gut-level belief in himself and his decisions. Halverson, in contrast, had toned down some of his brashness, with perhaps a grudging new respect for Preston.
And both men were just a little bit afraid of Hope.
The walk back to the Blackhawk was very quiet. Barnes never said a word along the way, and for her part Blair was still too tired and drained to feel like talking.
Certainly not with a man who still hated her.
They were in the air, heading over the mountains toward San Francisco, when Barnes finally spoke.
“You figure they blame us for what happened?” he asked.
Blair nodded. “Probably.”
“Yeah,” Barnes said. “‘Course, there wouldn’t be anyone left to do any blaming if we hadn’t showed up. Sooner or later, Jik and the others would have killed them.”
“I know,” Blair said. “I think Preston and the others do too, down deep.”
“Maybe.”
For a moment Barnes was silent.
“You made a fool of me, you know.”
Blair frowned at the sudden change of subject. “What?”
“Back at the camp, before the San Francisco attack,” he said. “When you gave me that phony order from Connor so that you could help Wright escape.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” Blair replied carefully. Even to her own ears it sounded pretty weak.
It obviously did to Barnes, too.
“Doesn’t matter whether you meant it or not,” he said. “You still made me look like a fool.” He paused again. “But you were right.”
Blair threw a frown at him.
“About what?”
“Wright,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it, and about the Thetas here. Valentine didn’t want to do what Skynet wanted, but she still did it. Oxley seemed to really like the power he had. Jik—I don’t know what the hell Jik was thinking.”
“I think he really believed he was John Connor,” Blair said.
“Could be,” Barnes said. “You see what I’m saying. None of them, not even Valentine, could break the programming. Not without an arrow in the back of the head.”
“They couldn’t break from Skynet,” Blair murmured as she saw where Barnes was going with this. “But Marcus did.”
“Marcus did,” Barnes acknowledged. “He broke his programming, saved Connor’s life, and helped us get all those prisoners out so we could blow the place.”