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She hears KACHANK! behind her and spins, whipping out her .45 in one motion. Enrique Salceda stands behind a rusting jeep, a 12-gauge pump trained on her. He is mid-forties, a tough Guatemalan with a weathered face and heavy mustache. He wears cowboy boots and a flak vest, no shirt.

SALCEDA: You pretty jumpy, Connor.

His fierce face breaks into a broad grin. The shotgun drops to his side as he walks toward her. When he reaches her he hugs her, then steps back.

SALCEDA (in Spanish): Good to see you, Connor. I knew you'd make it back here sooner or later.

He grins at John as he steps from the truck, and then clocks Terminator getting out.

SALCEDA: Oye, Big John! Que pasa? Who's your very large friend?

JOHN (perfect Spanish): He's cool, Enrique. He's... uh... this is my Uncle Bob. (to Terminator, in English) Uncle Bob, this is Enrique.

Terminator smiles. Sort of. Salceda squints at him,

SALCEDA: Hmmm. Uncle Bob, huh? Okay. (yelling) Yolanda. Get out here, we got company. And bring some fucking tequila!

A thin Guatemalan KID, FRANCO, eighteen or so, comes out of the trailer with the AK-47, followed by Salceda's wife, YOLANDA. She has THREE younger children with her, from a five-year-old GIRL, JUANITA, to a year-and-half-old BOY. She waves at John. They exchange greetings in Spanish. They seem like nice people. Terminator looks down at John, next to him. He says quietly...


SALCEDA (to Sarah): So, Sarahlita, you getting famous, you know that? All over the goddamn TV.

Salceda rips the cap off the tequila bottle. The two-year-old toddles to Terminator and grabs his pants, sliming them with drool. Terminator looks down at the tiny kid, fascinated. What is it? He picks up the child with one huge hand. Looks at it. Turns it different ways. Studying it. Then sets it down. The kid waddles off, a little dizzy.

SALCEDA: Honey, take Pacolito. Thanks, baby.

She hands him the tequila and takes the child. Salceda takes a long pull from the Cuervo bottle.

SALCEDA (to Terminator): Drink?

Terminator gestures "no" at the proffered bottle, but Sarah grabs it and takes a long pull. She lowers it without expression. Her eyes don't even water.

SARAH: I just came for my stuff. And I need clothes, food, and one of your trucks.

SALCEDA (grinning): Hey, how about the fillings out of my fucking teeth while you're at it?

SARAH: Now, Enrique. (turns to Terminator and John) You two are on weapons detail.

EXT. COMPOUND/BEHIND THE TRAILERS: There is an aging and rusted Caterpillar sitting behind one of the trailers. John expertly backs it toward Terminator who is holding one end of a piece of heavy chain which disappears into the sand.

JOHN: Hook it on.

Terminator hooks the chain onto the towhook on the back of the tractor. John hits the throttle and the Cat churns its treads, pulling some massive load. A six-by-eight foot sheet of steel plate moves slowly under six inches of sand. John drags it far enough to reveal... a rectangular hole in the ground. Like the mouth of a tomb. The kid drops down from the tractor and walks to the hole.

JOHN: One thing about my mom... she always plans ahead.

INT. WEAPONS CACHE From inside the "tomb". Sunlight slashes down into a cinder-block room, less than six feet wide but over twenty long. Sand spills down the steps. The walls are lined with guns. John precedes Terminator into Sarah's weapons cache.

Rifles, pistols, rocket launchers, mortars, RPGs, radio gear. At the far end, boxes containing ammo, grenades, etc. are stacked to the ceiling. Terminator gets real alert. Scanning, wondering where to begin. He picks up a MAC-10 machine pistol. Racks the bolt.

TERMINATOR: Excellent.

JOHN: Yeah, I thought you'd like this place.

EXT. COMPOUND/NEARBY: Sarah emerges from a trailer. She has changed. Boots, black fatigue pants, T-shirt. Shades. She looks hard. Salceda is nearby, packing food and other survival equipment with Yolanda. He looks up as Sarah approaches, and slaps the side of a big four-by-four Bronco next to him,

SALCEDA: This is the best truck, but the water pump is blown. You got the time to change it out?

SARAH: Yeah. I'm gonna wait till dark to cross the border. (she pulls him away from Yolanda) Enrique, it's dangerous for you here. You get out tonight, too, okay?

SALCEDA: Yeah, Saralita. Sure. (he grins) Just drop by any time and totally fuck up my life.

She slaps him on the shoulder.

WEAPONS CACHE: Terminator returns from carrying out several cases of ammo. John is selecting rifles from a long rack.

JOHN: See, I grew up in places like this, so I just thought it was how people lived... riding around in helicopters. Learning how to blow shit up.

John grabs an AK-47 and racks the bolt with a practiced action. Inspects the receiver for wear. Doesn't like what he sees. Puts it back. His movement are efficient. Professional. Uninterested.

JOHN: Then, when Mom got busted I got put in a regular school. The other kids were, like, into Nintendo.

Terminator has found a Vietnam-era "blooper" M-79 grenade launcher. A very crude but effective weapon. He opens the breech and inspects the bore.

JOHN: Are you ever afraid?

Terminator pauses for a second. The thought never occurred to him. He searches him mind for the answer...


Terminator slings the M-79 and starts looking for the grenades.

JOHN: Not even of dying?


JOHN: You don't feel any emotion about it one way or the other?

TERMINATOR: No. I have to stay functional until my mission is complete. Then it doesn't matter.

John is idly spinning a Sig Saur 9mm pistol on his finger... backwards and forwards like Bat Masteron.

JOHN: Yeah. I have to stay functional too. (sing-songy) "I'm too important".

Terminator pulls back a canvas tarp, revealing a squat, heavy weapon with six barrels clustered in a blunt cylinder. Chain-ammo is fed from a canister sitting next to it. A G.E. MINI-GUN. The most fearsome anti-personnel weapon of the Vietnam era. Terminator hefts it. Looks at John as if to say "Can I? Please?"

JOHN: It's definitely you.

EXT. COMPOUND - DAY/LATER Sarah and John have their weapons and supply selections laided out on two battered picnic tables for cleaning and packing. Maps, radios, documents, explosives, detonators... just the basics. Sarah is field- stripping and cleaning guns, very methodical. There is no wasted motion. Not far away, John and Terminator are working on the Bronco. They're greasy up to their elbows, lying on their backs under the engine compartment, ratcheting bolts into places on the new water pump.

JOHN: There was this one guy that was kinda cool. He taught me engines. Hold this a second. Mom screwed it up, of course. Sooner or later she'd always tell them about Judgment Day and me being this world leader and that's be all she wrote.

John thinks he's being causal, but his longing for some kind of parental connection is obvious.

TERMINATOR: Torque wrench please.

JOHN: Here. I wish I coulda met my real dad.


JOHN Yeah. I guess so. My mom says when I'm, like, 45, I think, I send him back through time to 1984. But right now he hasn't even been born yet. Man, it messes with your head. Where's that other bolt? (Terminator hands it to him) Thanks. Mom and him were only together for one night, but she still loves him, I guess. I see her crying sometimes. She denies it totally, of course. Like she says she got something in her eye.

They crawl out from under the truck into the bright sunlight.

TERMINATOR: Why do you cry?

JOHN: You mean people? I don't know. We just cry. You know. When it hurts.

TERMINATOR: Pain causes it?

JOHN: Uh-unh, no, it's different... It's when there's nothing wrong with you but you hurt anyway. You get it?


Terminator gets into the Bronco and turns the ignition key and the engine catches with a roar.

JOHN: Alriight!! My man!

TERMINATOR: No problemo.

John grins and does a victorious thumbs up. Terminator imitates the gesture awkwardly. John laughs and makes him get out of the truck, to try the move again.

SARAH, across the compound, pauses in her work to watch John and Terminator.

SARAH'S POV... we don't hear what John and Terminator are saying. It is a soundless pantomime as John is trying to show some other gestures to the cyborg. Trying to get him to walk more casually. John walks, then Terminator tries it, then John gestures wildly, talking very fast... explaining the fundamental principles of cool. They try it again. Continued ad lib as we hear:

SARAH (V.O.): Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. The Terminator would never stop, it would never leave him... it would always be there. And it would never hurt him, never shout at him or get drunk and hit him, or say it couldn't spend time with him because it was too busy. And it would die to protect him. Of all the would-be fathers who came and went over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only one who measured up. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.

Sarah clenches her jaw and goes grimly back to work... a strong woman made hard and cold by years of hard choices.

EXT. ROAD - DAY A police cruiser is parked off the side of a quiet, empty road on the outskirts of Los Angeles. A ribbon of traffic moves steadily by on a freeway in the distance. Nothing stirs around the cruiser except some pump-jacks sucking the earth on the hill behind it.

IN THE CRUISER. The T-1000 sits inside. John's notes and letters are spread out on the seat beside it. Sarah's voice speaks from a cassette deck. John's tapes. Her voices mixes with the static filled chatter of the radio that T-1000 monitors for any signs of its targets.

SARAH: ... if we are ever separated, and can't make contact, go to Enrique's airstrip. I'll rendezvous with you there.

T-1000 whips around and rewinds the tape, replaying the last section. It then snaps up the envelope of photos we saw earlier.

ECU on envelope. We see the postmark: "Charon Mesa, Calif."

TIGHT ON T-1000 staring at the postmark on the envelope. It glances up at the sound of crunching gravel. In the rear-view it sees a BIKE COP pulling onto the shoulder behind it. The big KAWASAKI 1100 idles up next to the T-1000, still seated in the cruiser.

BIKE COP: Howdy. I saw you pulled over here earlier. Everything okay?

T-1000 Everything's fine. Thanks for checking. (it gets slowly out of the car) Since you're here, though, can I talk to you a second...

EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY/MINUTES LATER The T-1000 thunders along on the Kawasaki 1100, doing about a hundred and twenty. PAN WITH IT until it recedes toward the horizon.

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