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The sound he heard was Sarah's cell door. The missing two feet of mop handle fill his vision as it cracks viciously across the bridge of his nose. 250 pounds of doughy attendant hit the floor like a sack of cement. Sarah slams the makeshift baton down expertly across the back of his head, bouncing him off the linoleum.

Lights out, Douglas. She drags him into her cell and locks him in with his own keys. Then swaps her mop-handle for his nice heavy night-stick. Sarah moves down the dark corridor, cat-stepping in her bare feet. She holds the baton like a pro, laid back along the forearm, police- style. She looks dangerous.

INT. HOSPITAL ENTRANCE/CORRIDOR A long corridor ends at a reception area, which is closed, and a Night Receiving Desk, which is a glass window where they can buzz you in through a heavy door.

A NIGHT NURSE types at a desk nearby. She looks up at the sound of footsteps and sees a young cop (T-1000) walking toward her.

T-1000 : You have a Sarah Connor here?

She assumes he's with the other cops. Smiles.

NIGHT NURSE: Running late, aren't you?

She turns to the inner door to buzz him in and sees Silberman and the cops coming toward the door from the other side.

NIGHT NURSE: Your friends are on their way out now...

When she turns back to the window, T-1000's no longer there. She goes to the counter and leans out to see if he's at the drinking fountain or someplace. No. Reception is empty. And so is the long corridor beyond. She frowns. Too weird. Silberman comes through the solenoid door with Mossberg and Weathersby, the two uniformed cops, and the hospital security guard. The guard retrieves his 9mm pistol from a lock-out box behind the night desk. Silberman faces him.

SILBERMAN: Lewis, see these gentleman out and them lock up for the night.

The security guard nods. Silberman goes back into the secure area of the hospital and the cops walk down the long corridor to the main doors. No sign of T-1000. Mossberg and the other cops exit, and the guard locks the door behind them. The guard walks slowly back along the long corridor. The hall is dark, with the light at the night desk far ahead like a sanctuary. His footsteps ring hollowly on the tile floor. His keys jingle.


ANGLE ON FLOOR as the guard's feet pass through FRAME. An instant later the floor starts to move. It shivers and bulges upward like a liquid mass, still retaining the two-tone checkerboard of the tile. It hunches up silently into a quivering shadow in the darkness past the guard. Up ahead we hear typing. The night nurse has her back to us, working. The guard stops as the drinking fountain. Bends to take a sip.


Behind him the fluid mass reaches six feet of height and begins to resolve rapidly into a human figure. It loses the color and texture of the tile and becomes... THE GUARD. T-1000's mass has been spread out a quarter of an inch thick over several square yards of floor. The guard walked over the T-1000, and his structure was sampled that instant. Now we see it drawing in and pulling up to form the figure of the guard.

The T-1000/Guard's feet are the last to form, the last of the "liquid floor" pulling in to form shiny black guard shoes. The shoes detach with a faint sucking sound from the real floor as the T-1000/Guard takes its first step. The real guard spins at the sound of footsteps to see... himself. He has one deeply disturbing moment to consider the ramifications of that.

Then he sees his double calmly raise its hand and, inexplicably, points his right index finger directly at the real guard's face, about a foot away. In a split second, the finger spears out, elongating into a thin steel rod which snaps out like a stiletto, slamming into the guard's eye. It punches into the corner of the eye, past the eyeball like a trans- orbital lobotomy tool, and emerges from the back of the guard's skull.

Life quietly empties from the guard's face. He is dead weight, hanging from the rod/finger with suddenly reacts -- SSSNICK. As the guard slumps, the T-1000 takes his weight easily with one hand and walks him, like it's carrying a suit on a hanger, back toward the night desk. The wounds are so tiny, no blood drips onto the floor.

ON THE NIGHT NURSE, glancing up as the T-1000/Guard walks past, dragging something casually which she can't see because it's below the countertop.

NIGHT NURSE Whatcha got, Lewis?

T-1000/GUARD Just some trash.

She nods, uninterested. Keeps typing. T-1000 moves past, dragging the unseen guard toward a closet down the hall from the night receiving station. T-1000/Guard removes the Browning High-Power pistol and the keys from the real guard's belt, then stuffs the body into the utility closet.

INT. CORRIDOR/NIGHT RECEIVING DESK T-1000/Guard comes back out and glances at the nurse.

T-1000/GUARD: All set.

She glances toward it. Sees the Beretta in its holster.

NIGHT NURSE: Gotta check the gun first, Lewis.

T-1000/GUARD: Yeah, sorry.

T-1000 opens the locker and blocks it from her view with its body as it mimes putting the gun in.

CLOSE ANGLE ON T-1000'S CHEST, from inside the locker. Instead of setting the gun in the locker, it inserts the pistol into it own chest, where is disappears inside like it was dropped into a pot of hot fudge. It withdraws its hand. The chest is once again a surface that looks like cloth, buttons, name-tag etc. You'd ever guess it was really an intelligent liquid metal. T-1000 slams the locker door and waits as the nurse hits the button unlocking the door with a BUZZ-CLACK. T-1000/Guard goes through.

INT. ISOLATION SECURITY CHECKPOINT A small room before a short SALLY-PORT corridor designed to prevent violent inmates from making a run for it. There are doors at each end. The first one is barred like a jail-cell door, and the second is a steel fire door. The attendants have a video monitor with which they can see the corridor on the other side of the doors. The two bored attendants barely notice the T-1000/Guard as it approaches. Looks briefly at a chart next to the door, seeing SARAH CONNOR is in #19.

IN THE ISOLATION WARD, the T-1000 passes a nurses' station which looks a cage, walled in by heavy metal mesh. Silberman, leaning in the open doorway, is talking to an attendant in the cage. He doesn't glance twice at Lewis the Guard passing by.

SARAH, moving like a ghost in the darkened corridor, hears footsteps coming and quietly but quickly unlocks a cell next to her with Douglas' master key. She slips into the cell and waits as the footsteps pass. We glimpse the T-1000/Guard pass the window. She waits as the footsteps fade away. She looks over. A female inmate, strapped to a bed, watches her with bird-like eyes. She puts a finger to her lips -- SSHHH. The inmate nods. Sarah exits.

POV MOVING TOWARD nurse's station. We hear Silberman's voice, reviewing medication with the night attendant.

ON SILBERMAN, yawning, looking at his watch. He turns to go... Sarah is there. She slams into him, hurling him through the door into the cage and follows him in. The orderly jumps up, going for his stunner, but she nails him with Douglas' baton.

WHAP-WHAP-WHAP! You can barely see the thing she's swinging it so fast. The guys goes down. Silberman lunges for the alarm button and she cracks down hard on his arm. He cries out and grabs his wrist. She grabs him by the hair and slams him face down on the desk, smacking him behind the knees expertly with the baton. His legs buckle and he drops to his knees with his chin on the desk. She pins him with one hand. He face is full of outraged disbelief.

SILBERMAN: You broke my arm!

SARAH: There's 215 bones in the human body, motherfucker. That's one. Now don't move!

Moving rapidly, she whips open a medication drawer and grabs a syringe. They keep a few of these handy for tranking unruly patients. She jams it into the orderly's butt and fires the whole shot. Still holding the empty syringe, she sees what she need next. They keep the toxic cleaning supplies in here to keep the inmates from drinking Drano.

She grabs a plastic jug of LIQUID PLUM'R and slams it down on the desk inches from Silberman's eyes. She jams the empty syringe into the plastic jug. Draws back the plunger. The syringe fills with blue liquid. She whips it out of the jug and jams the needle into Silberman's neck. His horrified eyes rack toward it. 10 cc's of blue death fill the cylinder. Her thumb hovers over the plunger. She jerks him to his feet by the collar and gets a tight grip on him, then hauls him through the door.

IN THE CORRIDOR outside cell #19 the T-1000 stops and looks in the window. Douglas, his face a bloody mess, yells to be heard.

DOUGLAS: Open the door! The goddamn bitch is loose in the halls!

To Douglas' amazement, Lewis the Guard turns impassively and walks away, leaving him shouting soundlessly at the window.


Terminator and John are approaching the hospital guard gate on the Harley. They can see the guard inside looks up at the sound of the engine.

JOHN: Now remember, you're not gonna kill anyone, right?

TERMINATOR: Right.

John looks at him. He's not convinced.

JOHN: Swear.

TERMINATOR: What?

JOHN: Just say "I swear I won't kill anyone."

John holds his hand up, like he's being sworn in. Terminator stares at John a beat. Then mimics the gesture.

TERMINATOR: I swear I will not kill anyone.

Terminator stops the bike and gets off. The guard, sensing trouble, has his gun drawn as he comes out of the shack. Terminator walks toward him drawing his .45 smoothly. BLAM! He shoots the guard accurately in the thigh. The guy drops, screaming and clutching his leg. Terminator kicks the guard's gun away, then smashes the phone in the shack with his fist. He pushes the button to raise the gate and walks back to the bike.

TERMINATOR: He'll live.

Terminator climbs onto the bike. They drive toward the hospital, heading down an ambulance ramp to an underground receiving area.



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