"Hello," John said. "Who are you?"
"We're the guys who ask the questions, kid. You're the guy who answers them and does what he's told. Now that we know who everybody is, put your hands on your head, fingers locked."
The man paused and for the first time John noticed the earpiece and microphone, though he'd surmised they must have them. You didn't announce to the guy standing next to you that you'd taken a prisoner.
"Yes, sir," the man said to the air. "C'mon," he said to John, "we're moving in."
John glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing had changed down in the gully.
Dieter was still in handcuffs, the gunrunners were still slapping each other on the back.
"Just keep your hands on top of your head and walk," the talker said. "On our way," he said into the microphone.
"Put your hands up, gentlemen," a calm male voice said from out of the growing darkness.
Luis instinctively brought his rifle up and stared toward the place from which the warning had come.
"No, no, no, you don't want to do that," the voice said. "Look down."
Luis cautiously looked at his chest and saw a red dot centered over his heart.
Luke and Waylon immediately raised their hands and Luis dropped the gun as if it was suddenly red-hot.
"Thank you very much," the voice said.
Footsteps sounded, coming in from every direction, and the gunrunners and von Rossbach looked around to spot the spokesman.
"Don't look so worried, Dieter," the voice said. "We know you're in restraints."
"Sully!" von Rossbach said in tones of disbelief.
A compact individual with graying dark hair walked down into the gully. "Yep,"
he agreed, wearing a tiny smile.
"Last time I saw you, you were with—"
Sully interrupted him. "I was undercover."
They looked at each other for a moment and Dieter shook his head slightly, trying not to grin. "Then I guess it's a good thing I let you go."
"Yeah," Sully said sarcastically. "Straight down. Thanks." Looking around as his team disarmed the prisoners. "You can put your hands down now, gentlemen."
"Who the hell are you?" Waylon demanded. He glanced from von Rossbach to the black-clad man. "This guy is my prisoner. You have no right to take him from me. Those are my handcuffs on him and the reward is mine!"
"It certainly is, Mr. Bridges," Sully agreed. "You might say we're just saving you a few steps so that you can start celebrating that much sooner."
"Oh, yeah," Luke said, his eyes moving nervously over the silent men holding guns on him. "I don't see no money around here. How do we know we can trust you?"
Sully looked at Dieter, a cynical smile curving one corner of his mouth. "You'd think he had a choice, wouldn't you?"
Then he turned back toward the gunrunners; he slipped his hand under his vest, reached into his breast pocket, and extracted a check, which he held out to them.
Waylon and Luke glanced uncertainly at each other. Sully tilted his head and shook the check at them teasingly.
"You don't want it?" he asked. "Hey, I'll be glad to put it back in the kitty.
There's never enough money around for fighting crime, y'know."
Waylon reached out and grabbed the check. Unfolded it as Luke glanced from Sully to the check and back again. Amused, Sully reached out as though he was going to snatch it back. Bridges clutched it to his chest and as one the two gunrunners took a step back, wearing identically offended expressions.
Sully laughed and then turned serious. "Y'know, boys, there are some who'd say I didn't need to give you anything at all since you're out here committing a crime."
"What crime?" Waylon demanded indignantly. "We're apprehending a felon.
We're licensed."
Sully went to the open trunk of Waylon's car and picked up an Israeli-made antitank launcher. "Why… what's this?" he asked in mock surprise. "Is this even on the market yet?," He looked into the trunk. "And all of these other weapons…
I may be wrong, but I don't believe it's legal for a private citizen to own a number of these." He looked at the gunrunner. "Could I be mistaken?"
Luke nudged his partner and widened his eyes at him. Waylon frowned and nudged him back, hard enough to almost knock him off his feet. "They're props,"
he said. "We needed something to lure him out here where he couldn't hurt anybody."
Von Rossbach and all the men in black looked at him for a moment, then Sully turned to the big Austrian and they both grinned.
"That's not bad," Sully said, turning back to Bridges. "But you didn't let me finish. See, this money isn't just a reward. It's a bribe to keep your mouth shut.
You talk to anybody about what's happened here tonight, and you and your buddies are going to be spending a very long time in a very high-security prison." He looked each of the three men in the eyes. "Am I understood?"
The gunrunners nodded and shuffled, muttering unhappy agreement.
"Good!" Sully said happily. "Then you can go!"
The three men looked at him uncertainly for a moment, not moving.
"GO!" Sully bellowed, and slammed the trunk.
Suddenly he spun around and fell to the ground.
"Hit the dirt!" Dieter yelled, throwing himself down.
He rolled toward the car and hugged the side, looking into the darkness. Around him men in black leapt aside, disappearing as if by magic. Waylon, Luke, and Luis huddled at the back of the car as Bridges dug out his keys and unlocked the trunk.
"Let me out of these!" Dieter demanded.
Luke looked at Waylon, who hesitated, then nodded. Luke slipped forward, digging in his pocket for his key ring. He unlocked the cuffs and Dieter chaffed
his wrists, giving the other man a hostile glance.
"Friends of yours?" he asked, gesturing toward the darkness.
Luke shook his head, then said "no" softly. "We didn't tell anybody about this.
Didn't want to give anybody else a cut."
Von Rossbach grunted. "You'd better give me a gun, then," he said, and began to work his way to the back of the car.
The Infiltrator's permission to kill had been acted upon instantly, much to Alissa's dismay. Only one of the Terminators was in position; the others were still on the way. Her own fault, she realized, she should have phrased the order differently. More firepower would have made all the difference.
Only one human was down and Alissa, looking on remotely, was appalled.
Everything in her own experience and even in Serena's—up until the end, that is
—had led her to believe that humans were easy prey. It was only when the Connors were involved that things became difficult.
Therefore, the Connors, one or both, were present. In which case there was no need to capture von Rossbach. Which should make things easier.
Even so the humans had reacted much more quickly than expected. The fault, of course, was that never in their brief existence had these Terminators faced humans who had been trained to kill and to respond to threat. Nor had she for that matter, a fact that suddenly frightened her. *Terminate all humans present,*
she ordered. *Let none escape.*
John led the two commandos over the gentle rise just in time to see another black-clad man below them spin and fall. Instinctively he fell to the ground; his captors followed suit.
"Roger that," one of them said softly. "I can't see anyone."
Neither could John, but he was betting that the shooter had been in front of the man shot and he watched that side of the landscape, frustrated by the almost total darkness. He glanced back at the gully; only the civilians, if you could count Dieter as such, were huddled around the car, looking around anxiously. John assumed that meant there'd been no more shooting.