TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT DAY TERMINATOR 2 SCRIPT - Rev. 9/10/90 1 ext. city street - day 1 Downtown L.A. Noon on a hot summer day. On an EXTREME LONG LENS the lunchtime crowd stacks up into a wall of humanity. In SLOW MOTION they move in herds among the glittering rows of cars jammed bumper to bumper. Heat ripples distort the torrent of faces. The image is surreal, dreamy... and like a dream it begins very slowly to dissolve to: 2 ext. city ruins - night 2 Same spot as the last shot, but now it is a landscape in Hell. The cars are stopped in rusted rows, still bumper to bumper. The skyline of buildings beyond has been shattered by some unimaginable force like a row of kicked-down sandcastles. Wind blows through the desolation, keening with the sound of ten million dead souls. It scurries the ashes into drifts, stark white in the moonlight against the charred rubble. A TITLE CARD FADES IN: LOS ANGELES, July 11, 2029 ANGLE ON a heap of fire-blackened human bones. Beyond the mound is a vast tundra of skulls and shattered concrete. The rush hour crowds burned down in their tracks. WE DISSOLVE TO a playground... where intense heat has half-melted the jungle gym, the blast has warped the swing set, the merry-go- round has sagged in the firestorm. Small skulls look accusingly from the ash-drifts. WE HEAR the distant echo of children's voices... playing and laughing in the sun. A silly, sing-songy rhyme as WE TRACK SLOWLY over seared asphalt where the faint hieroglyphs of hopscotch lines are still visible. CAMERA comes to rest on a burnt and rusted tricycle... next to the tiny skull of its owner. HOLD ON THIS IMAGE as a female VOICE speaks: VOICE 3 billion human lives ended on August 29th, 1997. The survivors of the nuclear fire called the war Judgment Day. They lived only to face a new nightmare, the war against the Machines... A metal foot crushes the skull like china. TILT UP, revealing a humanoid machine holding a massive battle rifle. It looks like a CHROME SKELETON... a high-tech Death figure. It is the endoskeleton of a Series 800 Terminator. It's glowing red eyes compassionlessly sweep the dead terrain, hunting. The SOUND of ROARING TURBINES. Searchlights blaze down as a formation of flying HK (Hunter-Killer) patrol machines passes overhead. PAN WITH THEM toward the jagged horizon, beyond which we see flashes, and hear the distant thunder of a pitched battle in progress. 3 ext. battlefield - night 3 THE BATTLE. Human troops in desperate combat with the machines for possession of the dead Earth. The humans are a ragtag guerrilla army. Skynet's weapons consist of the Ground HKs (tank-like robot gun-platforms), flying Aerial HKs, four-legged gun-pods called Centurions, and the humanoid Terminators in various forms. SEQUENCE OF RAPID CUTS: Explosions! Beam-weapons firing like searing strobe-lights. A gunner in an armored personnel carrier fires a LAW rocket at a pursuing Aerial HK, bringing it down in a fiery explosion. Another APC is crushed under the treads of a massive Ground HK. A TEAM OF GUERRILLAS in an intense fire-fight with terminator endoskeletons in the ruins of a building. Three terminator endoskeletons advance, firing rapidly. Another (complete cyborg), with flesh ripped open and back broken, gropes for a rifle on the ground. A Centurion overruns a human firing position. Soldiers are cut down as they run. Fiery explosions light the ranks of advancing machines. IN A BLASTED GUN EMPLACEMENT at the edge of battle, a man watches the combat with night vision binoculars. He wears the uniform of a guerrilla general, and a black beret. He is still amid running, shouting techs and officers. C.U. MAN, pushing slowly in as the battle rages O.S. He lowers the binoculars. He is forty-five years old. Features severe. The left side of his face is heavily scarred. A patch covers that eye. An impressive man, forged in the furnace of a lifetime of war. The name stitched on the band of his beret is CONNER. We push in until his eyes fill frame, then... DISSOLVE TO: FIRE. SLOW ROILING, ENORMOUS. FILLING FRAME. VOICE (SARA CONNER) Skynet, the computer which controlled the Machines, sent two terminators back through time. Their mission: to destroy the leader of the human Resistance... John Conner. My son. The first terminator was programmed to strike at me, in the year 1984... before John was born. It failed. VOICE (SARA CONNER) The second was set to strike at John himself, when he was still a child. As before, the Resistance was able to send a lone warrior. A protector for John. It was just a question of which one of them would reach him first... DISSOLVE TO: 7 ext. truckstop - night 7 Wild fingers of BLUE-WHITE ELECTRIC ARCS dance in a steel canyon formed by two TRACTOR TRAILERS, parked side by side in the back lot of an all night truck stop. Then... The strange lightning forms a circular opening in mid-air, and in the sudden flare of light we see a FIGURE in a SPHERE OF ENERGY. Then the FRAME WHITES OUT with an explosive THUNDERCLAP! Through the clearing vapor we see the figure clearly... a naked man. TERMINATOR has come through. Physique: massive, perfect. Face: devoid of emotion. Terminator stands and impassively surveys its surroundings. 8 INT. TRUCK STOP DINER - NIGHT 8 On a back route north of L.A. A handful of local TRUCKERS hunch over chili-sizes, CAT hats pushed back on the heads. Three BIKERS are playing a game of pool in the back, their Miller empties line the table's rail. The dive's owner, LLOYD, a fat, aging biker-type in a soiled apron, stands behind the bar. Nothing much going on... Then the front door opens and a big naked guy strolls in -- that doesn't happen here every night. All eyes simultaneously swivel toward Terminator. It's emotionless gaze passes over the customers as it walks calmly through the room. Everyone freezes, not sure how to react. TERMINATOR POV. A digitized electronic scan of the room, overlaid with alphanumeric readouts which change faster than the human eye can follow. In POV we move past the staring truckers, past the owner, and the awestruck WAITRESS, and approach a large nasty-looking biker puffing on a cigar. His body is outlined, or "selected", and thousands of estimated measurements appear. His clothing has been analyzed and deemed suitable... TERMINATOR I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle. The big biker's eyes narrow. He takes a long draw on his cigar, getting the tip cherry-red hot. CIGAR BIKER You forgot to say "please". He grinds the cigar out on Terminator's chest. Which produces not the slightest reaction of pain. Terminator calmly, and without expression, grabs Cigar by his meaty upper arm... Cigar screams from the hydraulic grip. Terminator doesn't see Cigar's friend, behind him, holding his pool cue by the narrow end like a Louisville slugger. The heavy end whistles in a powerful swing and CRACKS IN TWO across the back of Terminator's head. Terminator seems not to notice. Doesn't even blink. Without releasing his grip on Cigar, he snaps his arm straight back and grabs Pool Cue by the front of his jacket. Suddenly the heavyset biker finds himself flying through the nearest window. CRAASSH! Terminator hurls Cigar, all 230 pounds of him, clear over the bar, through the serving window into the kitchen, where he lands on the big flat GRILL. We hear a SOUND like SIZZLING BACON as Cigar screams, flopping and jerking. He rolls off in a smoking heap. The third biker whips out a knife with an eight inch blade and slashes at Terminator's face. Terminator grabs the arcing blade with his bare hand. Holding it by the razor-sharp blade he jerks it from the guy's hand. Ultra-fast here: He flips it. Grabs the handle like you're supposed to hold a knife.Grabs the biker and slams him face-down over the bar. Then brings the knife whistling down, pinning the biker's shoulder to the bar top with his own steel. 9 INT. KITCHEN 9 The door BANGS OPEN and Terminator strides in. The Mexican cook does a fast fade as Terminator walks toward Cigar, who is cursing in pain on the floor. With his deep-fried fingers he struggles to get out the .45 auto tucked under his leather jacket. But he can't even hold onto it. Terminator takes it from him. Instead of pointing it at him, Terminator carefully examines the weapon, analyzing its caliber and operating condition. Terminator never threatens... that's a human thing. He just takes. Cigar senses what he must do when the emotionless eyes come back to him. He slides the keys to his bike across the floor to Terminator's foot. Then painfully starts getting out of his jacket. 10 INT. truck stop 10 Terminator strides from the kitchen, fully clothed now in a black leather jacket, leather riding pants, and heavy cleated boots. He moves toward the moaning biker pinned to the pool table. Without slowing his stride he jerks the knife out. The guy slumps to the floor, groaning, behind him. Terminator continues toward the front of the diner, passing Lloyd, the owner. At the door, he comes abreast of two truckers who sit frozen like a snapshot in mid bite. One of the truckers finally nods. TRUCKER Evening... Terminator impassively stares back. Then moves on out the door. 11 EXT. TRUCK STOP 11¸ Terminator walks out, surveying the parked Harleys. Sticks the .45 in his belt and swings one leg over a massive CUSTOM ELECTRO-GLIDE. He slips the dagger in his boot and the key in the ignition. Kicks over the engine. It catches with a roar and he slams the heavy iron into gear with a KLUNK. Lloyd appears at the diner's door with a sawed-off 10 GAUGE WINCHESTER LEVER-ACTION SHOTGUN. He fires into the air and jacks another round in fast, aiming at Terminator's back. LLOYD I can't let you take the man's bike, son. Now get off or I'll put you down! Terminator turns and considers him coldly. He eases the shifter up into neutral. Rocks the bike onto its kickstand. Swings his leg over and walks calmly toward the guy. Terminator strides right up to Lloyd, staring straight into the shotgun's muzzle. Lloyd starts sweating, trying to decide if he's going to kill a man in cold blood. He's still trying to decide when Terminator's hand blurs out like a striking cobra and is somehow suddenly holding the shotgun. Lloyd gapes, knowing he is screwed. Then... Terminator reaches toward him. Oh shit... And slips the sunglasses out of Lloyd's shirt pocket. Puts them on. Strides back to the Harley and roars off in a shower of gravel. 12 EXT. freeway - NIGHT 12 Terminator roars down the freeway, heading into L.A. Cold neon flares across the chrome of the big bike. The 10 gauge is jammed through the clutch and brake cables, across the handlebars. The lights flow over Terminator's wrap-around sunglasses like the tracks of tracer rounds. Cut to: 13 EXT. STREET/ high school - NIGHT 13 A South-Central L.A. HIGH SCHOOL. Rusting chain link fences and graffiti-covered buildings. An L.A.P.D. BLACK-AND-WHITE cruises the empty street. A TREMENDOUS BLUE-WHITE GLARE suddenly spills out between the buildings. The young UNIFORMED COP in the car whips his head around at the source of the light. He pulls quickly into the school parking lot, in time to see... The powerfully arcing electrical discharge reaches its peak between two of the buildings. Lightning climbs the fire-escapes, lighting up the night, and papers swirl in a blasting whirlwind. The cop climbs from his cruiser as the glow fades. The schoolyard is dark. He sees vapor dissipating as he approaches the spot where he saw the strange light. He draws his revolver and cautiously moves into the shadows between two buildings. A NAKED MAN glides from a shadowed doorway behind the cop. Nothing special about him. Certainly not built like a terminator. The flash of light and the fact that he is naked are pretty good clues that he just arrived from the future. His features are handsome bordering on severe. His eyes are gray ice. Penetrating. Intelligent. THE COP spins at a sound. Too late. Mr. X is already on him. The blow is lightning fast and the cop drops like a bag of sand. LOW ANGLE as the unconscious cop hits the deck, his BERETTA 9mm AUTOMATIC clattering next to him. A hand ENTERS FRAME and picks up the pistol. Cut to: HIGHLY POLISHED BLACK SHOES rounding the rear tire of the police cruiser. FOLLOW THE SHOES to the cruiser's door then MOVE UP as Mr. X, dressed now in LAPD blue, climbs behind the wheel. He looks and acts exactly like a cop. Cool, alert, confident in his power, his expression emotionless and judgmental. Mr. X, now Officer X, puts the car in gear and drives into the night. Cut to: 14 int. suburban house / garage - day 14 TIGHT ON YOUNG JOHN CONNER, who at this moment is ten years old and busy reassembling the carburetor on his Honda 125 dirtbike. He has ripped Levi's and long stringy hair. A sullen mouth. Eyes which reveal an intelligence as sharp as a scalpel. The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated" blasts from a boom box next to him. A WOMAN, JANELLE VOIGHT, stands in the doorway of the garage, yelling over the music. WOMAN ...John? John! Get in here right now and clean up that pigsty of yours. John's friend TIM, a thirteen-year old Hispanic kid, watches as John replies by turning up the volume on the boom box. Janelle gives up with a SLAM of the house's back door. TIM Your foster parents are kinda dicks, huh? JOHN Gimme that Phillips right there. 15 INT. HOUSE - living room 15 Janelle storms into the room. TODD VOIGHT, her husband watches sports on the TV. They're both in their thirties. Middle class working stiffs. JANELLE I swear I've had it with that goddamn kid. He won't even answer me. (neither does he) Todd? Are you gonna sit there or are you gonna do something? He sighs. Throws down the TV's remote and heads for the garage. 16 INT. GARAGE 16 John hops on the bike. Kick starts it. Tim picks up John's nylon bag then climbs on the back. Todd ENTERS and shouts over the engine, which John revs louder and louder. TODD John! Get your ass inside right now and do what your mother says! John pins Todd with a defiant glare. JOHN She's not my mother, Todd! He revs the engine and peels out of the garage, with Tim almost falling off the back. They take off down the street. 17 EXT. vacant lot/ drainage canal 17 John cuts through a vacant lot to a trail running beside a fenced-in drainage canal. He guns the bike through a hole in the retaining fence. Tim's eyes go wide as they roar down the concrete embankment. IN THE DRAINAGE CANAL John zig-zags along, throwing up a roostertail of muddy water. Tim shouts, pretending he didn't just see his life flash before his eyes. He slaps John on the back. TIM Major moves, homes! So... where is your real mom, anyway? (John doesn't answer) She dead or something? It's hard to read John's expression. JOHN She might as well be. John twists the throttle angrily and the bike lunges forward. Cut to: 18 ext. PESCADERO state hospital - day 18 A SIGN on a chain link fence topped with concertina wire reads: PESCADERO STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE. Beyond it squats an imposing four story building. Institutional brick. Barred windows. About as inviting as KGB headquarters. Security cars patrol the manicured grounds. 19 int. hospital - MAXIMUM SECURITY WING 19 Sunlight is a barred slash on the bare institutional wall. The room is empty of all furnishings save the bed, a stainless steel sink, toilet, and a dented metal mirror. WE HEAR a rhythmic grunting, small explosions of breath in perfectly metered time. PAN TO a bedframe leaned upright against the wall, legs facing outward. A pair of sweaty hands grip one leg. Tendons knot and release as SOMEONE does pullups. A mane of tangled hair hides the face that comes INTO FRAME, dips out, comes back. WIDER. A WOMAN in a tank top and hospital pants is hanging from the top leg of the vertical bedframe. Her body is straight and taut. Knees bent so the feet clear the ground. The arms are lean and muscular. The inmate, face hidden, pulls up, dips, pulls up. Like a machine. No change in rhythm. 20 int. hospital / corridor 20 FIGURES MOVE TOWARD US down a corridor of polished tile and two-tone walls. DR. PETER SILBERMAN, a smug criminal psychologist, leads a group of young INTERNS. Following, laconically, are THREE BURLY ATTENDANTS. SILBERMAN The next patient is a 29 year old female diagnosed as acute schizo-affective disorder. The usual indicators... depression, anxiety, violent acting-out, delusions of persecution. (the interns nod judiciously) Here we are. Silberman stops at one of the SOUNDPROOF STEEL DOORS. There is a two-way speaker beneath a tiny window. Silberman flips the intercom switch. 21 int. cell 21 Silberman's scrubbed and cheerful face at cell window. HIS VOICE comes over the tinny speaker. SILBERMAN 'Morning, Sara. REVERSE ANGLE as she turns slowly into CLOSE UP. SARA CONNER is not the same woman we remember from last time. Her eyes peer out through a wild tangle of hair like those of a cornered animal. Defiant and intense, but skittering around looking for escape at the same time. Fight or flight. Down one cheek is a long scar, from just below the eye to her upper lip. Her VOICE is a low and chilling monotone. SARA Good morning, Dr. Silberman. How's the knee? 22 int. corridor 22 Silberman's smug composure drops a second. Then returns. SILBERMAN Fine, Sara. (he switches off, speaks to the interns) She uh... stabbed me in the kneecap with a screwdriver a few weeks ago. Sara watches them talking about her through the glass, but can't hear them. She feels like a lab animal. The interns look in at her through the glass as Silberman talks. With her face drawn, eyes haggard and hair wild, she looks like she belongs where she is. SILBERMAN The delusional architecture is interesting. She believes a machine called a "terminator", which looks human of course, was sent back through time to kill her. And also that the father of her child was a soldier, sent to protect her... he was from the future too... (he smiles) The year 2029, if I remember correctly. (the interns chuckle) Let's move on, shall we. As the interns walk on, Silberman steps close to DOUGLAS, the head attendant, and speaks low. SILBERMAN Douglas, I don't like the patients disrupting their rooms like this. See that she takes her thorazine, would you. DOUGLAS is 6'4", 250 pounds and warmhearted as a rattlesnake. He nods, catching Silberman's meaning, and gestures for the other attendants to hang back as Silberman moves on in his rounds. 23 int. cell 23 Sara looks up as the cell door opens. Douglas walks in slow, idly tapping his POLICE BATON against the door in an ominous rhythm. The other two orderlies ease in behind him. One of them carries a STUN BATON (like a sawed off cattle prod). The other has a tray with cups of red liquid-thorazine. DOUGLAS Time to take your meds, Conner. Sara faces him, weight centered. Feral eyes darting from one to the other. SARA You take it. Douglas grins, casual -- DOUGLAS Now, you know you got to be good cause you up for review this afternoon... SARA I'm not taking it. Now I don't want any trouble... DOUGLAS Ain't no trouble at all -- He whips the baton in a whistling backhand which -- WHAP! Takes her square in the stomach. She doubles over and drops to her knees, unable to breath. Douglas tips the bed and it slams down with a crash, right next to her. He takes the stun wand from the other attendant and walks forward. TIGHT ON SARA, grimacing and struggling to breathe. SARA You... son of a... AAARRGH!! The stun wand hits her between the shoulder blades as she tries to rise. It drives her to the floor, pinning her like a bug. Little ELECTRIC ARCS CRACKLE as the baton makes her writhe in pain. Douglas grabs her by the hair and jerks her up to her knees. Holds the cup of thorazine in front of her lips. DOUGLAS Last call, sugar. Gasping, she chokes the zombie juice down. Cut to: 24 ext. bank parking lot- day 24 John furtively hunches before a Ready Teller machine at the rear of a local bank while his friend Tim stands lookout. John slips a stolen ATM card into the machine's slot. It is something he's rigged up, because trailing from the card is a ribbon-wire which goes to some kind of black-box electronics unit he's got in his ever-present knapsack. He holds the pack between his knees and pulls out a little lap-top keyboard, which is also connected to the black-box. John enters a few commands and the plasma-screen displays the PIN number for that account. He quickly enters the number on the Ready Teller's key pad and asks it for 300 bucks. The machine whirs then begins dispensing twenty dollar bills. Tim looks back over his shoulder amazed. JOHN Easy money! TIM Where'd you learn all this stuff? John collects the twenties as the machine kicks them out. A cool and professional electronic-age thief at ten years old. JOHN From my mom. My real mom, I mean. Come on baby... (he grabs the last bills) Let's go! They sprint around the corner to an -- 25 Ext. alley behind bank 25 They huddle behind the building as John counts out Tim's share. He folds five twenties and palms them to the other kid. When John opens his wallet to put in his money, Tim notices a picture in a plastic sleeve. TIM That her? John reluctantly shows his friend the Polaroid. It is a shot of Sara. Pregnant, in a jeep near the Mexican border. John doesn't know it now, but he will carry that photo with him for over 30 years, and give it to a young man named Kyle Reese, who will travel back in time to become his father. Yes, that photo. TIM So she's pretty cool, huh? JOHN Actually, no, she's a complete psycho. That's why she's up at Pescadero. She tried to blow up a computer factory, but she got shot and arrested. TIM No shit? JOHN Yeah, she's a total loser. C'mon let's check out the Seven Eleven, whatya say? John has tried to sound macho casual, but we see in his eyes that it really hurts. He slaps Tim on the shoulder and they jump onto his Honda. John fires up and they whine off down the alley. Cut to: 26 int. police cruiser - day 26 CLOSE ON COMPUTER TERMINAL, attached to the dash. A Juvenile Division file. Subject; John Conner. Below his ARREST RECORD are his vital stats. Mother; Sara Conner. Legal Guardians; Todd and Janelle Voight. And below their names, an address; 523 S. Almond. Reseda, Ca. OFFICER X stares at the screen a moment. Then gets out of the car. 27 int./ext. voight house - day 27 TIGHT ON FRONT DOOR as Todd Voight opens it, revealing the unsmiling face of Officer X beyond the screen door. Todd greets him with a weary sigh. OFFICER X Are you the legal guardian of John Conner? TODD That's right, officer. What's he done now? OFFICER X ignores the question. He casually scans the living room. OFFICER X Could I speak with him, please? Todd shrugs, showing the cop he's past his patience with the boy. TODD Well, you could if he was here. But he took off on his bike this morning. Could be anywhere. You gonna tell me what this is about? OFFICER X I just need to ask him a few questions. Janelle appears in the doorway behind Todd, concerned. JANELLE There was a guy here this morning asking about him, too. TODD Yeah, big guy. On a bike. Has that got something to do with it? OFFICER X registers the significance of that. He realizes who the big guy must be. He smiles. Reassuringly shakes his head no. OFFICER X I wouldn't worry. Do you have a photo-graph of John? Todd stares unhappily at the cop. Turns to Janelle. TODD Get the album, Janelle. Cut to: 28 ext. street 28 ANGLE THROUGH AN ALLEY from the main street. We see John and Tim flash by on the Honda a block away. Hold a beat. Then... A BIG CHROME WHEEL ENTERS FRAME. BOOM UP a leather-clad leg to Terminator's implacable face. It surveys the area slowly as the bike idles, then kicks it into gear and moves on, scanning in a slow shark-like manner, not aware that it missed its prey by seconds. Cut to: 29 int. SARA's cell - day 29 CLOSE ON SARA. She is shackled, hands and feet, to the bed. Sunlight falls across her pale face. A hand enters frame, gently stroking her cheek. She wakes up to see -- KYLE REESE. Sitting on the edge of her bed, looking exactly the same as we last saw him in 1984. Scruffy blond hair and a long raincoat. SARA Kyle...? You're dead. He gives her a gentle smile. REESE I know. This is a dream, Sara. SARA Oh. Yeah. They... make me take this stuff... He puts a finger to her lips. Then silently unfastens her restraints. They gaze into each other's eyes. And in that look we see that his death and the horror she has been through since hasn't touched their love at all. SARA Hold me. She melts into Reese's arms. Pulls him to her. REESE I love you. I always will. SARA Oh, god... Kyle. I need you so much. She kisses him passionately. They are locked together in a timeless moment. PUSH IN TIGHT on Sara as she buries her face in his shoulder. She shuts her eyes tight. Stay on Sara as Reese speaks. His voice strangely cold. REESE (O.S.) Where's John, Sara? Sara opens her eyes and he is no longer in her arms. He is standing across the room. Pinning her with an accusing gaze. SARA They took him away from me. REESE It's John who's the target now. You have to protect him. He's wide open. SARA I know! REESE Don't quit, Sara. Our son needs you. SARA (struggling not to cry) I know, but I'm not as strong as I'm supposed to be. I can't do it. I'm screwing up the mission. REESE Remember the message... the future is not set. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves. He turns toward the door. SARA Kyle don't go! REESE (turning back to her) There's not much time left in the world, Sara. Reese goes out the door. Sara jumps from the bed, frantic. Yanks the door open. Follow him out. 30 int. corridor 30 Sara staggers from her cell. Reese is already, impossibly a hundred feet away, striding down the dim corridor. A silhouette in a long coat, disappearing around a corner. Sara runs after him, her bare feet slapping the cold linoleum. Her hospital gown floats out behind her as she dream-runs along the seemingly infinite corridor. She reaches the corner, slides around it, and... Slams right into the arms of Douglas and his three helpers. They grab her as she struggles and screams. Then Silberman is there, smiling soothingly. They force her down and she is pinned to the floor, screaming. A new figure approaches... one even more menacing. TERMINATOR walks toward her, with heavy, measured steps. Backlit, eyes concealed by the sunglasses, it stands over her like the angel of death itself. It reaches down and... Takes her hand. Lifts her up. Leads her to a door. They go through together. Emerging into... A BEAUTIFUL SUNLIT MORNING. CHILDREN are playing nearby... sliding down slides, clambering through a jungle gym. Sara knows this dream now... it is the worst of all her nightmares. She starts to scream but no sound comes out. THE SKY EXPLODES into WHITE LIGHT. Everything is seared by the unholy glare, hotter than a thousand suns. The children ignite like match heads. Sara is burning, screaming silently, everything silent and overexposed. Terminator's flesh and clothing are burning, silently. It grips her hand, Virgil to her Dante in this tour of the nuclear age Inferno. THE BLAST WAVE HITS... a near-solid wall of compressed air followed by 250 mph winds. The children, charcoal statues frozen in positions of play, explode into black leaves of ash and swirl away. SOUND hits now, with a thunderous roar. Sara's scream merges with the howl of the wind as the blast hits her, exploding the flesh from her bones. Beside her, Terminator is stripped of its burnt flesh, becoming a smoking skeleton of steel. Then she wakes up... in her cell, shackled to the bed. Sunlight hurts her eyes. She looks desperate and defeated. She knows the war is coming. It visits her every time she closes her eyes. Lost and alone, Sara feels all hope recede for herself and for humanity. Cut to: 31 int. Pescadero state hospital - interview room 31 TIGHT ON VIDEO SCREEN, playing a previously-recorded session. Sara is in a strait-jacket, talking softly. VIDEO SARA ... It's... like a giant strobe light, burning right through my eyes... but somehow I can still see. Look, you know the dream's the same every night, why do I have to -- VIDEO SILBERMAN Please continue... The REAL SARA dispassionately watches herself on the screen. Her expression is controlled. Silberman watches her watching. They are in a brightly lit interview room. TWO ATTENDANTS stand nearby. VIDEO SARA The children look like burnt paper... black, not moving. Then the blast wave hits them and they fly apart like leaves... Video Sara can't go on. Real Sara watches herself cry on tape, her expression cold. We hear Silberman speak on the tape. VIDEO SILBERMAN Dreams about cataclysm, or the end of the world, are very common, Sara... Video Sara cuts him off, her mood shifting to sudden rage. VIDEO SARA It 's not just a dream. It's real, you moron! I know the date it happens!! VIDEO SILBERMAN I'm sure it feels very real to you -- VIDEO SARA On August 29th 1997 it's going to feel pretty fucking real to you, too! Anybody not wearing number two million sunblock is gonna have a real bad day, get it?! VIDEO SILBERMAN Relax now, Sara -- VIDEO SARA You think you're alive and safe, but you're already dead. Everybody, you, him... (she gestures at the attendant) everybody... you're all fucking dead! She is raving, half out of her chair. The orderly moves to inject her with something. VIDEO SARA You're the one living in a dream, Silberman, not me! Because I know it happens. It happens! Silberman pauses the tape... freezing Sara's contorted face. Real Sara turns away from the screen, her expression stony. SARA I was afraid... and confused. I feel much better, now. Clearer. Silberman gives a calculated paternal smile. SILBERMAN Yes. Your attitude has been very positive lately. Sara looks up at him. Her voice is hopeful. SARA It has helped me a lot to have a goal, something to look forward to. SILBERMAN And what is that? As she answers, WE PULL BACK, revealing that we have been looking through a one-way mirror from an adjacent OBSERVATION ROOM. In the shadows of the observation room we see the interns from the earlier rounds, and a couple of STAFF PSYCHOLOGISTS. They smoke and make the occasional note. SARA You said I could be transferred to the minimum security wing and have visitors if I showed improvement in six months. Well, it's been six months, and I was looking forward to seeing my son. SILBERMAN I see. Let's go back to what you were saying about these terminator machines. Now you think they don't exist? CLOSE ON SARA. Her voice sounds hollow. SARA They don't exist. I see that now. Silberman leans back, studying her. Toying with her. SILBERMAN But you've told me on many occasions about how you crushed one in a hydraulic press. SARA If I had, there would have been some evidence. They would have found something at the factory. SILBERMAN I see. So you don't believe anymore that the company covered it up? Sara shakes her head no. Cut to: 32 ext. cyberdyne systems - day 32 The corporate headquarters of a mega-electronics corporation. An imposing cubist castle of black glass. 33 INT. second floor/ elevators 33 The elevator doors slide open with a whisper and MILES DYSON strides out. Black. In his early thirties. The star of the Special Project's division. He's brilliant, aggressive, driven. Dyson walks down the corridor, swinging his arms... a man in a hurry. A man with much to do. He reaches a solid security door and zips his ELECTRONIC KEY-CARD through the scanner. The door unlocks with a clunk. The sign next to the door reads: SPECIAL PROJECTS DIVISION: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. 34 int. security station 34 He nods to the guards as he passes through the security checkpoint. They can see all activities on the floor on their bank of video monitors. He unlocks another secure door with his card and enters -- 35 int.artificial intelligence (A.i.) lab 35 The lab is quite large, comprising banks of processors, disk drives, test bays, prototype assembly areas. Extremely high tech. DYSON Greetings, troops. He is jokingly saluted by fellow workers. Not a lab coat in sight. This is a strictly jeans and sneakers crowd. All young and bright. They sit at their consoles drinking Cokes and changing technology as we know it. A young LAB ASSISTANT rushes over to Dyson. Name tag says he's BRYANT. BRYANT Mr. Dyson? The materials team wants to run another test on the uh... on it. DYSON Yup. Come on. I'll get it. Dyson produces an unusual-looking KEY from his pocket as they stride through the lab. Bryant has to hustle to keep up. BRYANT Listen, Mr. Dyson, I know I haven't been here that long, but I was wondering if you could tell me... I mean, if you know... DYSON Know what? BRYANT Well... where it came from. DYSON I asked them that question once. Know what they told me? Don't ask. 36 int. vault room 36 Dyson enters with Bryant. Dyson and a GUARD stand together before what looks like a high-tech bank vault. It requires two keys to open, like the launch controls in a nuclear silo. The guard and Dyson insert their keys and turn them simultaneously. Dyson then enters a passcode at a console and the vault unlocks itself with a sequence of clunks. The door swings open and Dyson enters. Bryant stays outside with the guard, who notes Dyson's name and the time on a clipboard. 37 INT. VAULT 37 Dyson walks to a stainless steel cabinet and opens it. Inside is a small artifact in a sealed container of inert-gas. IT -- a ceramic rectangle, about the size of a domino, the color of liver. It has been shattered, painstakingly reconstructed and mounted on a metal frame. Dyson removes the artifact, in its inert-gas flask, and sets it on a specially designed cart. He handles it like the Turin shroud. Dyson closes the cabinet. Turns to the one next to it. Opens its door. In this cabinet is a larger object... an intricate METAL HAND AND FOREARM. At the elbow, the metal is twisted and crushed. But the forearm and hand are intact. Its metal surface scorched and discolored, it stands upright in a vacuum flask, as if saluting. This is all that remains of the terminator Sara destroyed. Dyson stares at it, lost in thought. Then he closes the cabinet, BLACKING OUT FRAME. Cut to: 38 int. interview room/ observation room 38 We can see through the one way mirror into the interview room where Sara is still talking with Silberman. The OTHER PSYCHOLOGISTS are still watching through the mirror. Reviewing Sara's condition. SARA So what do you think, doctor? I've shown a lot of improvement, haven't I? SILBERMAN You see, Sara... here's the problem. I know how smart you are, and I think you're just telling me what I want to hear. I don't think you really believe what you've been telling me today. We go tight on Sara's reaction. And we see that Silberman is right. She was playing him and it didn't work. And she knows she's fucked. Her tone becomes quietly pleading. SARA You have to let me see my son. Please. It's very important. He's in danger. At least let me call him -- Silberman pins her with his sweet reptilian gaze. SILBERMAN I'm afraid not. Not for a while. I don't see any choice but to recommend to the review board that you stay here another six months. Sara's eyes turn cold and lethal in one second. She knows she's lost. She knows this guy is just playing with her, and she -- LEAPS ACROSS THE TABLE AT HIM. SARA YOU SON OF BITCH!! Silberman jumps back and the attendants dive on her. She is writhing and twisting like a bobcat. Silberman whips open a drawer and pulls out a syringe. He jabs it into her as she yells -- SARA Goddammit. Let me go!! Silberman! You don't know what you're doing! You fuck! You're dead! You hear me!! Silberman signals and the attendants drag her out. He looks at the doctors behind the glass. Shrugs. SILBERMAN Model citizen. Cut to: 39 EXT. 7-eleven store - DAY 39 Officer X has stopped two young girls in front of a 7-Eleven. He is leaning out the cruiser window and showing them the picture of John. The first girl nods. FIRST GIRL Yeah, he was here about fifteen minutes ago. I think he said he was going to the Galleria. OFFICER X The what? The second girl points toward a massive complex visible above the houses several blocks away. Officer X stares at it. 40 EXT. STREET 40 Terminator cruises slowly on the bike. Scanning. He crosses an overpass above a drainage canal and whips his head around at the sound of a dirt-bike engine. TERMINATOR POV -- of two kids on a bike down in the canal. The IMAGE snap-zooms in. FREEZES on the driver's face. IDENT POS flashes next to the blurry image of John. Terminator wheels the Harley around, cutting onto a street which runs parallel to the canal. Terminator hauls ass to keep John in sight. He catches glimpses of the kid through trees and houses. Loses him. Catches one last glimpse of him heading into the parking garage of a large SHOPPING MALL. 41 INT. GALLERIA - DAY 41 John works his way through a crowded video arcade. Sees some guys he knows. Stops to talk, striking a pose. Mall rats in their element. We don't hear the dialogue. 42 int. galleria parking garage 42 TERMINATOR'S idling Harley shakes the parking garage walls. He stops at a row of bikes near the escalators. John's little Honda sits proudly with the big street bikes. Terminator parks. 43 int. galleria 43 OFFICER X is moving through the flow of shoppers. The place is a zoo. He stops some kids and shows them the picture. They shrug. IN A CROWDED VIDEO ARCADE JOHN is lost in an intense battle, going for a new high score at "Missile Command". He parries deftly as the enemy ICBMs deploy their MIRVs... the warheads stream down... it's more than he can deal with. The world gets nuked. Game over. He slouches away from the game, looking for another. Bored. RACK FOCUS to Officer X passing the entrance of the store behind him. The cop moves on, down the concourse, out of sight. John gets into an "Afterburner" simulator game. ON TERMINATOR, walking through the crowd in slow motion. Scanning. It moves with methodical purpose, knowing the target is close. We see that it is, incredibly, carrying a box of LONG STEM ROSES. Like some hopeful guy with a hot date. THE COP is pointed toward the arcade by some kids hanging out at the multi-cinema. He walks into the maze of kids engaged in synthesized conflict. Cheap electronic sound effects blare above the crowd noise. JOHN is shooting down MiGs at Mach 2. His friend Tim slides up next to him. Taps him on the shoulder, trying to play it cool. TIM Some cop is scoping for you, dude. John looks around the corner of the "Afterburner" ride. Sees the cop showing a picture to some of the kids. The kids point his way. John ducks just as the cop glances over. He slinks out the other side of the ride and heads for the back of the store, instinctively retreating. Sara has taught him that cops are bad news. THE COP scans the crowded arcade. Glimpses John, looking back as he moves around a row of machines. Starts toward him. JOHN sees the cop homing in and starts walking fast. Looks back. THE COP is shoving through clots of kids. One of them is slammed to the floor. An eddy of outrage behind the cop as he gains speed. John breaks into a run. So does the cop. Kids scatter like ten-pins as the cop charges after John. John sprints through the arcade's back office and store-rooms. 44 int. SERVICE CORRIDOR 44 John emerges through a firedoor into a long corridor which connects to the parking garage. He's running full out, when around the corner ahead of him comes... TERMINATOR. Time stretches to nightmarish crawl as John tries to brake to a stop. Terminator reaches into the box of roses. SLOW MOTION. The cold black steel of the SHOTGUN emerges as the box falls open, the roses spilling to the floor. TERMINATOR'S BOOT crushes the flowers as it moves forward. JOHN, transfixed by terror, is trapped in the narrow featureless shooting gallery of the corridor. THE SHOTGUN COMES UP. Terminator expressionlessly strides forward. Jacks a round into the chamber, slow and fluid. John looks behind him for a place to run. Sees the cop coming toward him, pulling his Beretta pistol. Incredibly, John realizes the cop is aiming his gun at him! John looks back at Terminator. He is staring into the black muzzle of the 10 gauge now. Aimed right at his head. He realizes he's screwed. Then something crazy happens... TERMINATOR Get down. John instinctively ducks. Terminator pulls the trigger. KABOOM! THE COP catches the SHOTGUN'S BLAST square in the chest just as he fires his pistol. The pistol's shot goes wild. TERMINATOR pumps another round into him. Then another. And another. And another. Advancing a step each time he fires, he empties the shotgun into the cop, blowing him backward down the corridor. The sound is DEAFENING. Then silence. THE COP lies still on his back. Terminator is now standing right over John. They both watch as the cop, incredibly, sits up unharmed and gets to its feet. Terminator grabs John roughly by his jacket. Clutches the kid to his chest then spins around as the cop opens fire with the Beretta. The "cop", who not only isn't a cop, he clearly isn't even human, pulls the trigger so fast it almost seems like a machine-pistol. ON TERMINATOR'S BACK, as the 9mm slugs slam into it, punching bloody holes in the motorcycle jacket. A MAN emerges from a restroom and steps right between the cop and his target. He's instantly cut down by the fusillade. JOHN is bug-eyed with fear, but completely unscratched. Terminator's body has blocked the bullets. The Beretta CLACKS empty. Terminator turns at the sound. Shoves John behind a coke machine. Drops the empty shotgun. Starts walking toward the "cop". The empty magazine clatters to the floor. The cop inserts another one. Snaps back the slide. Terminator still has twenty feet to go. It doesn't break its purposeful stride. The cop opens fire. Bullets rake Terminator's chest. It doesn't even flinch. Ten feet to go. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM! Neither the cop nor Terminator show the slightest change in expression as the gun rips Terminator's wardrobe to shreds. CLACK. The pistol empties again. Terminator stops two feet in front of the cop. They appraise each other for a second. We realize now that the cop is a terminator too. We don't know the details yet, but let's call him the T-1000 (since that's what he is). A newer model than the one we've come to know so well (the 800 Series "Arnold"). This guy's an advanced prototype... and he's got quite a few surprises.T-1000 AND TERMINATOR size each other up. Terminator moves first. It grabs the T-1000 in its massive hands but the T-1000 snaps back with a counter-grip. After about two seconds of intense slamming, the walls on both sides of the corridor have all the plaster smashed in, and the two battling machines have blasted through the wall and disappeared. JOHN, totally stunned by all of this, remembers to move. He staggers to his feet. Stumble-runs toward the parking garage. THIRD LEVEL CONCOURSE. A plate glass window EXPLODES and the Terminator crashes through to the tile floor like a sack of cement amid the screaming crowd. The T-1000, swatting mannequins aside, emerges through the broken window. Picks up the stunned Terminator by its jacket. Hurls him against the balcony, which shatters at the impact. Terminator crashes through and falls two levels to the courtyard below! T-1000 turns without a word and heads back through the store after John, accelerating slowly into a loping, predatory run. DOWN ON THE COURTYARD. Terminator is totally still. A JAPANESE TOURIST cautiously steps forward and takes a picture of the body. Suddenly, Terminator's eyes snap open. The stunned tourist backs away. It sits up and looks around. Gets its bearings. Rises smoothly to its feet. All servos seem to be working fine. The tourist's camera whirs as the motor-drive runs on by itself, taking shot after shot. The owner isn't even looking through the eyepiece, he's so shocked. 45 int. parking garage 45 John is frantically pumping the kick starter of his bike, scared shitless and the damned thing won't start. His hands are shaking so badly he can't find the choke. He looks up to see -- The T-1000 running down the corridor toward him. John fumbles with the choke. The bike catches. He slams it in gear and spins the bike out into the main aisle of the garage. John looks back... the T-1000 is behind him, running. He twists the throttle and guns the little bike forward. Incredibly, the T-1000 is gaining. This nightmare isn't happening. John races out the exit ramp, and charges right into the street. 46 EXT. STREET 46 John shoots into the busy traffic. Cuts off a BIG-RIG TOW TRUCK. The DRIVER swears. Hits his air horn. What the driver doesn't see is the cop, running faster than O.J. Simpson at the airport, who emerges onto the street and runs right at his truck. IN THE TRUCK. The driver hears a thump as something slams against his door, then feels himself pulled right out. T-1000 slides in and takes his place. The truck is still rolling along about 25 mph. T-1000 accelerates after John without missing a beat. It can see him, up ahead, weaving through traffic. Out of the garage entrance, Terminator roars onto the street on the Harley. It accelerates after the others. 47 EXT. FLOOD CONTROL CHANNEL 47 John slides his bike down the service ramp faster than he's ever done it before. He races along the bottom of the canal, turning into a narrower tributary which has vertical sides. He looks back. No sign of pursuit. Suddenly he sees the sun blocked out by a great shadow. The Kenworth tow-truck... big as house, all chrome and roaring diesel engine... crashes through the fence and launches itself right into the center of the canal. It crashes down, 15 feet to the ground, going about 60, hits at an angle and tears into the concrete wall with a hideous grinding of metal. It ricochets back and forth between the walls then, bellowing like a gutshot stegosaurus, it just keeps on plowing forward, gathering speed. John looks back and sees this wall of metal almost filling the narrow concrete canal and he milks every last bit of throttle the little bike has. The Kenworth is all muscle, tearing along the canal like a train in a tunnel. Its big tires send up huge sheets of muddy spray, backlit in the setting sun. It looks like some kind of demon. And... it's gaining. ABOVE THEM, on the service road running parallel, Terminator is fighting to overtake them. It looks down and sees John with the tow-truck from Hell catching up to him. It is only about twenty feet behind him and still gaining. ANGLE IN THE CANAL, looking back past a desperate John, at the wall of metal filling frame behind him. ABOVE, Terminator cuts the bike suddenly hard to the left, leaving the road. Hitting an earth embankment just right, it jumps the bike into the air like Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape" and vaults the fence bordering the canal. It slams down at the edge of the canal and tears along, inches from the drop-off on a dirt path, accelerating past the truck in the channel below. John hits some water and slews momentarily, losing speed. The massive push-plate on the front of the truck slams his back fender. Panicked, he pulls a little ahead. All this is happening at about sixty miles an hour. Top speed for the little dirt bike. SLOW MOTION as Terminator jumps the bike again. This time the 700-pound Harley sails out into space and drops into the canal. It arcs down between the truck and John, hitting on its wheels. It bottoms out, an explosion of sparks from under the frame. Only the ultra-fast reflexes of a machine could keep the bike upright. Terminator fights for control. It guns the throttle and the powerful bike roars up beside John's tiny Honda. Terminator sweeps the kid off his machine with one arm and swings him onto the Harley, in front of him. John's Honda weaves and falls, smashed instantly under thundering tires. The Harley roars ahead. It hits eighty. Ahead is an overpass, and supporting it is an abutment which bisects the canal into two channels. The Harley thunders into one channel, which is essentially a short tunnel. The truck can't fit on either side. Neither can it stop, at that speed. Tires locked, it slides on the muddy concrete and piles into the concreted abutment at seventy. Terminator and John emerge from the tunnel, looking back to see a fireball blasting through behind them as the truck's side-tanks explode. Terminator stops the Harley. John peers around its body to see the destruction. A burning wheel wobbles out of the tunnel and flops in the mud. Terminator revs the bike and they roar away, down the canal, disappearing around a bend. ANGLE ON THE FIRE, as a column of black smoke rises from the overpass. Smoke boils from the tunnel as well, and inside it is a solid wall of flame. A figure appears in the fire. Just an outline. Walking slowly... calmly. The figure emerges from the flames. It is human-shaped but far from human. A smooth chrome man. Not a servomechanism like Terminator is underneath, with its complex hydraulics and cables... this thing is a featureless, liquid chrome surface, bending seamlessly at knees and elbows as it walks. It reminds us of mercury. A mercury man. Its face is simple, unformed. Unruffled by thousand degree heat, it walks toward us. With each step detail returns. First the shapes and lines of its clothing emerge from the liquid chrome surface, then finer details... buttons, facial features, ears... But it's still all chrome. With its last step, the color returns to everything. It is the cop again... handsome young face, blond hair, moustache. Icy eyes. It stops and looks around. It is a perfect chameleon. A liquid metal robot. A killing machine with the ultimate skills of mimicry for infiltration of human society. ANGLE NEARBY, as several police cruisers and a fire truck pull up. T-1000 climbs out of the canal behind them. More cops arrive. T-1000 blends in perfectly. There are always cops at disasters and scenes of violence. We now see why its choice of protective mimicry is so perfect. It walks among the other cops unnoticed. Gets into one of the squad cars. Starts it and drives away. 48 EXT. SIDE STREET - DUSK 48 Terminator, with John in front of him, on the Harley roars down the empty street. John cranes his neck around to get a look at the person/thing he is riding with. The image is strangely reminiscent of father/son, out for an evening ride. John is still shaking from the experience of what just happened and he's just a ten year old kid, but he's also the John Conner who will someday rise to greatness, and we see a bit of that in him even now. JOHN Whoa... time out. Stop the bike! Terminator immediately complies. He leans the bike into a turn. They head into a nearby alley. 49 EXT. ALLEY 49 Terminator and John roll into the alley and come to a stop. John slides off the gas tank. Terminator impassively stares at him. John checks him out. Tentatively speaks. JOHN Now don't take this the wrong way, but you are a terminator, right? TERMINATOR Yes. Cyberdyne Systems, Model 101. JOHN No way! John touches Terminator's skin. Then the blood on his jacket. His mind overloads as the reality of it hits him. JOHN Holy shit... you're really real! I mean... whoah! (stepping back) You're, uh... like a machine underneath, right... but sort of alive outside? TERMINATOR I'm a cybernetic organism. Living tissue over a metal endoskeleton. JOHN This is intense. Get a grip, John. Okay, uh... you're not here to kill me... I figured that part out for myself. So what's the deal? TERMINATOR My mission is to protect you. JOHN Yeah? Who sent you? TERMINATOR You did. Thirty five years from now you reprogrammed me to be your protector here, in this time. John gives him an amazed look. JOHN This is deep. 50 EXT. street - NIGHT 50 John and Terminator on the bike again, weaving through the side streets. They blend into the evening traffic. In the darkness, Terminator's wounds are not readily visible. John cranes his head up and back. JOHN So this other guy? He's a terminator too, right, like you? TERMINATOR Not like me. A T-1000. Advanced prototype. A mimetic polyalloy. JOHN What's that mean? TERMINATOR Liquid metal. JOHN Radical. TERMINATOR You are targeted for termination. The T-1000 will not stop until it completes its mission. Ever. John mulls that over. JOHN Where we going? TERMINATOR We have to leave the city, immediately. And avoid the authorities. JOHN Can I stop by my house? TERMINATOR Negative. The T-1000 will definitely try to reacquire you there. JOHN You sure? TERMINATOR I would. Cut to: 51 ext. payphone 51 John is quickly going through his pockets for change. He has plenty of bills but no quarters. JOHN Look, Todd and Janelle are dicks but I gotta warn them. Shit! You got a quarter? Terminator reaches past John and smashes the cover plate off the phone's cash box with the heel of his hand. A shower of change tumbles out. Terminator hands one to John. John dials. 52 INT. VOIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT 52 Janelle Voight picks up the kitchen phone and cradles it with her shoulder while she continues to chop vegetables with a large knife. She answers sweetly. JANELLE Hello? JOHN (filtered through phone) Janelle? It's me. In the backyard John's German Shepherd is going bonkers, barking at something. JANELLE John? Where are you, honey? It's late. You should come home, dear. I'm making a casserole. AT THE PAYPHONE. John listens, an odd look on his face. He covers the phone's mouthpiece and turns to Terminator. JOHN (whispering) Something's wrong. She's never this nice. IN THE VOIGHT'S KITCHEN. Todd comes in through the kitchen's back door. Just home from work. He ignores Janelle and opens the fridge. Grabs a Coors. Takes a sip. Frowns at the dog's barking. TODD What the hell's the goddamn dog barking at? SHUT UP YOU MUTT! TIGHT ON JANELLE as Todd growls around the kitchen behind her. He passes OUT OF FRAME next to her. Janelle switches the phone to her other hand then... THUNK! Her free hand seems to do something out of frame. There is a gurgling, and the sound of liquid dribbling onto the floor. (Don't go away. We'll found out what happened in a moment) AT THE PAYPHONE. John cups the phone again. Turns to Terminator. JOHN The dog's really barking. Maybe it's already there. What should I do? Terminator takes the phone from John's hand. Janelle's voice is floating through the receiver. JANELLE (filtered) John? John, are you okay? Terminator speaks into the phone in a perfect imitation of John's voice... TERMINATOR (in John's voice) I'm right here. I'm fine. (to John, a whisper) What is the dog's name? JOHN Max. Terminator nods. Speaks into the phone. TERMINATOR Hey Janelle, what's wrong with Wolfy? I can hear him barking. Is he okay? JANELLE (filtered) Wolfy's fine, honey. Where are you? Terminator unceremoniously hangs up the phone. Turns to John. TERMINATOR Your foster parents are dead. Let's go. Terminator heads for the bike. John, shocked, stares after him. 53 int. voight house / kitchen 53 Janelle hangs up the phone. Her expression is neutral. Calm. PAN OVER along her arm, which is stretched out straight from the shoulder. Partway along its length her arm has turned smoothly into something else -- a metal cylinder which tapers into a sword-like spike. Now we see Todd Voight PINNED TO A KITCHEN CABINET by the spike which has punched through his beer can, through his mouth and exits the back of his head into the cabinet door. His eyes are glassy and lifeless. The spike is withdrawn -- SWIISHHTT! -- so rapidly, Todd is actually standing there a second before he slumps out of sight. THUMP. Janelle doesn't bat an eye as the spike smoothly changes shape and color, transforming back into a hand, and then... JANELLE CHANGES rapidly into the COP we now know as the T-1000. The change has a liquid quality. T-1000 opens the back door. 54 ext. voight house/ backyard - night T-1000 approaches the big German Shepherd, which slinks away from him, barking in fear. T-1000 walks right into CLOSE UP. Reaches down, OUT OF FRAME. We hear that sickening THUNK followed by a shrill YELP. Then T-1000's hand snaps up INTO FRAME holding a bloody dog collar. The tag reads "MAX". T-1000 nods thoughtfully. Heads back to the house. 55 EXT. parking lot - NIGHT 55 Dark. Off a quiet street. Terminator stands near the Harley watching John pace before him. John's brain is calling time-out. This is all too weird. JOHN I need a minute here, okay? You're telling me it can imitate anything it touches? TERMINATOR Anything it samples by physical contact. John thinks about that, trying to grasp their opponent's parameters. JOHN Like it could disguise itself as anything... a pack of cigarettes? TERMINATOR No. Only an object of equal size. John's still reeling from meeting one terminator, which now seems downright conventional next to the exotic new model. JOHN Well, why didn't it just become a bomb or something to get me? TERMINATOR It can't form complex machines. Guns and explosives have chemicals, moving parts. It doesn't work that way. But it can form solid metal shapes. 56 INT. VOIGHT HOUSE - night 56 T-1000 walks down the dark hall. It passes the bathroom and we see the real Janelle's legs through the half-open door. The shower is running. Her blood mixes with water on the white tile floor. In John's bedroom the T-1000 begins searching methodically in the dark. Calmly and dispassionately ripping the room apart for any clues that could lead it to its target. T-1000 finds a box of audio cassettes marked "Messages from Mom". In it are some letters, and envelopes filled with snapshots. It begins looking through some of the photos... SHOTS OF JOHN AND SARA during the missing years. Sara in olive cammos with an RPG 7 grenade launcher, teaching John how to aim. Sara with a group of military-clad Guatemalan men, standing next to cases of stinger missiles. John and Sara in a Contra camp, deep in the mountains. 57 EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT 57 John is now sitting on the curb, lost in stunned thought. Terminator stands above him, watching the street like a Doberman. He glances down at John. JOHN We spent a lot of time in Nicaragua... places like that. For a while she was with this crazy ex-green beret guy, running guns. Then there were some other guys. JOHN She'd shack up with anybody she could learn from. So then she could teach me how to be this great military leader. Then she gets busted and it's like... ¦sorry kid, your mom's a psycho¦. Didn't you know? It's like... everything I'd been brought up to believe was just made-up fantasy, right? I hated her for that. (he looks up) But everything she said was true. (he stands) We gotta get her out of there. TERMINATOR Negative. The T-1000's highest probability for success now would be to copy Sara Conner and wait for you to make contact with her. JOHN Oh, great. And what happens to her? Terminator's reply is matter-of-fact. TERMINATOR Typically, the subject being copied is terminated. JOHN TERMINATED!? Shit! Why didn't you tell me? We gotta go right now! TERMINATOR Negative. She is not a mission priority. JOHN Yeah, well fuck you, she's a priority to me! John strides away. Terminator goes after him and grabs his arm. John struggles against the grip. Which doesn't do him much good. JOHN Hey, goddammit! What's your problem? Starts dragging John back to the bike. John spots a couple of college-age slab-o-meat JOCK-TYPES across the street and starts yelling to them. JOHN Help! HELP!! I'm being kidnapped! Get this psycho off of me! The TWO JOCKS start toward them. John yells in outrage at Terminator. JOHN Let go of me!! To his surprise, Terminator's hand opens so fast John falls right on his butt. He looks up at the open hand. JOHN Oww! Why'd you do that? TERMINATOR You told me to. John stares at him in amazement as he realizes... JOHN You have to do what I say?! TERMINATOR That is one of the mission parameters. JOHN Prove it.... stand on one foot. Terminator expressionlessly lifts one leg. John grins. He's the first on his block... JOHN Cool! My own Terminator. This is great! The two guys get there and look at Terminator standing there calmly with one leg up in the air. This big guy in black leather and dark glasses, standing like a statue. FIRST JOCK Hey, kid. You okay? John turns to him. No longer needing to be rescued. JOHN Take a hike, bozo. FIRST JOCK Yeah? Fuck you, you little dipshit. JOHN Dipshit? Did you say dipshit?! (to Terminator) Grab this guy. Terminator complies instantly, hoisting him one-handed by the collar. The guy's legs are pinwheeling. JOHN Now who's a dipshit, you jock douchebag? Immediately, things get out of hand. The guy's friend jumps behind Terminator and tries to grab him in a full nelson -- Terminator throws the first guy across the hood of a car -- Grabs the second by the hair, whips out his .45 in a quick blur, and aims the muzzle at the guy's forehead. John grabs Terminator's arm with a yell as he pulls the trigger -- John's weight is just enough to deflect the gun a few inches. The guy flinches, stunned by the KA-BOOM next to his ear. He stares, shocked. Pissing himself. John is freaking out too. He screams at Terminator. JOHN Put the gun down! NOW!! Terminator sets the .45 on the sidewalk. John scoops it up fast then turns to the shocked civilians, who can't believe what just happened. JOHN Walk away. They do. Fast. John grabs Terminator by the arm and tugs him toward the bike. John still holds the gun, reluctant to give it back. JOHN Jesus... you were gonna kill that guy! TERMINATOR Of course. I'm a terminator. John stares at him. Having your own terminator just became a little bit less fun to him. JOHN Listen to me, very carefully, okay? You're not a terminator anymore. Alright? You got that? You can't just go around killing people! TERMINATOR Why? JOHN Whattaya mean, why? Cause you can't! TERMINATOR Why? JOHN You just can't, okay. Trust me on this. Terminator doesn't get it. John just stares at him. Frightened at what just almost happened. He gets a glimpse of the responsibility that comes with power. Finally he hands the .45 back to Terminator, who puts it away. JOHN Look, I'm gonna go get my mom. You wanna come along, that's fine with me. Cut to: 58 int. voight house/ bedroom - night 58 T-1000 finds an envelope... a letter from Sara to John sent since she's been at Pescadero State Hospital. It reads the return address on the envelope. It has what it needs. It picks up a tape player and the battered shoebox full of Sara's tapes and exits. Cut to: CLOSE ON A BLACK & WHITE PHOTOGRAPH. The image is a nightmare from the past. It is a surveillance camera still-frame from the LA police station where the first terminator made such an impression in 1984. We see the blurry forms of cops frozen in the emergency lights of a burning corridor. A black-clad figure stands at the end of the corridor. The guy has short-cropped hair and dark glasses. An AR-180 assault rifle in one hand, and a 12-gauge in the other -- holding them both like toy pistols. ANOTHER PHOTO is slapped on top of the first. Another still-frame blow-up is placed over the last. Terminator looms in CLOSE UP. DETECTIVE WEATHERBY (O.S.) These were taken at the West Highland police station in 1984. You were there. WIDER. We're in -- 59A int. INTERVIEW ROOM/PESCADERO - night 59A The photos are lying on the table in front of Sara, placed there by DETECTIVE WEATHERBY. His partner DET. MOSSBERG, and Dr. Silberman, sit at the table as well. Two uniformed cops, plus Douglas, stand by the door. Sara stares listlessly at the top photo. She's withdrawn, haggard... drugged-looking. MOSSBERG He killed seventeen police officers that night. Recognize him? Weatherby slaps another black and white eight-by-ten on the table. A close up of Terminator taken by the Japanese tourist at the mall. It's the same face. MOSSBERG This one was taken by a Japanese tourist today. Sara doesn't react. It's hard to tell she's thinking. Whether she's given up hope or is just in a drugged stupor. WEATHERBY Ms. Conner, you've been told your son's missing. His foster parents have been murdered, and we know this guy's involved. Talk to us. Don't you care? Sara looks up at him. A cold and empty stare. He glances at Silberman. Then at his partner. MOSSBERG We're wasting our time. One of the uniformed cops opens the door and Mossberg strides into the hall. Weatherby and the two uniforms follow him out, with Silberman right behind. SILBERMAN Sorry, gentleman... TIGHT ON SARA, slumped under the bright lights. Totally out of it. Then we see her hand, creeping along the edge of the table toward the stack of photos. She slips off the paper clip binding the stills together, and hides it between her fingers. Douglas jerks her up by the arm and leads her out. Cut to: 60 int. SARA's cell 60 Douglas cinches up the last of Sara's restraints. Then leans over her... looking down. Even wrecked as she is, we see the beauty in her face. He bends down. We think he's going to kiss her. Instead he runs his tongue across her face like a dog would. She seems not to even see him. Her dull eyes see past him. He can't provoke a reaction. Even here, strapped down, the two of them alone, she gives him no superiority. He smirks and leaves. We hear the sound of his night-stick tapping its way down the corridor, growing fainter. Sara's eyes snap suddenly alert. There is intensity and resolve in them. She slips the paper clip out from between her fingers and awkwardly spreads it open into a straight piece of wire. With slow, painful concentration she moves it toward the lock of the restraints that bind her wrists to the bed at her sides. Cut to: 61 EXT. road - NIGHT 61 Terminator and John charge through the night on the Harley. Streetlights flare past them like comets. Two serious guys with a mission. One a ten year old kid, the other a half-man/half-machine cyborg killer from the post-apocalypse future. Cut to: 62 INT. SARA'S CELL 62 TIGHT ON RESTRAINT LOCK as it unlatches... successfully picked by Sara's paper clip. This is not an easy thing to do. But Sara taught herself a lot of things in her years of hiding. SARA, her hands free, sits up and releases the Velcro straps on her feet. She rolls off the bed and we see her in a whole new light. She is totally alert, almost feral in her movements. CUT TO: 63 EXT. hospital entrance 63 GUARD SHACK. A bored security guard glances up as an LAPD black-and-white pulls up. He raises the barricade and nods at the T-1000/cop as he passes. THE CRUISER pulls in next to the other police vehicles. The T-1000 walks toward the main entrance. Cut to: 64 int. SARA's cell/ corridor 64 Sara is using the paper clip on the door lock. She hears an echoing tapping sound. It's getting louder, coming her way. She goes back to work on the lock. IN THE CORRIDOR. Douglas the attendant is tapping his stick along the wall like he does every night on his rounds. It is dark. He shines a little mag-light in the windows of the cells as he passes, barely slowing. He rounds the corner. His footsteps echo in the dark hallway. The tip of the stick hits the wall. Tap, tap, tap... getting closer to Sara's cell. He stops at her door. He is about to shine his light in when he notices that a utility closet across the hall is open. He goes to shut it, absently flicking his light into the dark closet. He notices something strange among the buckets and cleaning supplies. A mop lies on the floor, with its handle snapped off about halfway up. The other half is missing. Douglas ponders that for half a second, then hears a SOUND behind him and spins around. The sound he heard was Sara's cell door. The missing two feet of MOP HANDLE fills 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. Sara 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. Sara moves down the dark corridor, cat-stepping in her bare feet. She holds the baton like a pro, laid back along her forearm, police-style. She looks dangerous. CUT TO: 66 INT. HOSPITAL ENTRANCE/ CORRIDOR 66 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 Sara Conner 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 Weatherby, the two uniform 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 then 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 behind the guard. Up ahead we hear typing. The night nurse has her back to us, working. The guard stops at the drinking fountain. Bends to take a sip. Behind him the fluid mass has reached 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 had 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 in 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 his hand and, inexplicably, point 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 now, hanging from the rod/finger, which suddenly retracts -- SSSNICK. As the guard slumps, the T-1000 takes his weight easily with one hand and walks him, like he'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 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 his body into the utility closet. 66G int. corridor / night receiving desk 66G T-1000/Guard comes back out and glances at the nurse. T-1000/GUARD All set. She glances toward him. Sees the Beretta in his holster. NIGHT NURSE Gotta to 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 its own chest, where it 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 never 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. CUT TO: 67 int. isolation SECURITY CHECKPOINT 67 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 SARA CONNER is in #19. T-1000/Guard goes into the Isolation Ward through the two doors, which lock behind it. IN THE ISOLATION WARD, the T-1000 passes a nurses' station which looks like 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. SARA, moving like a ghost in the darkened corridor, hears footsteps coming and quietly but quickly unlocks a cell next to her with Douglas's 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. Sara 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... Sara is there. She slams into him, hurling him through the door into the cage and following him in. The orderly jumps up, going for his stunner, but she nails him with Douglas's baton. WHAP-WHAP-WHAP! You can barely see the thing she's swinging it so fast. The guy 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. His face is full of outraged disbelief. SILBERMAN You broke my arm! SARA 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 guard's butt and fires the whole shot. Still holding the empty syringe, she sees what she needs next. They keep the toxic cleaning supplies in here to keep the inmates from drinking the Drano. She grabs a plastic jug of LIQUID PLUM'R and slams it down on the desk inches from Silberman's eyes. She jabs 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's amazement, Lewis the Guard turns impassively and walks away, leaving him shouting soundlessly at the window. Cut to: 70 ext. hospital 70 Terminator and John are approaching the guard gate on the Harley. They can see the guard inside look 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 at beat. Then mimics the gesture. TERMINATOR I swear I will not kill anybody. 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 on the bike. They drive toward the hospital, heading down an ambulance ramp to an underground receiving area. 71 int. isolation floor 71 The attendants at the security checkpoint look up at the monitor as someone enters the corridor. They see Sara, holding Silberman at syringe-point. Sara speaks to them through an intercom on the wall. Her voice comes through the speaker. SARA Open it or he'll be dead before he hits the floor. The attendants' adrenalin levels just went off the scale. The first attendant adamantly shakes his head no. The amperage here is really high. The second attendant keys the intercom mike. 2ND ATTENDANT There's no way, Conner. Let him go. Silberman's face is the color of suet. SILBERMAN It won't work, Sara. You're no killer. I don't believe you'd do it. Her voice is a deadly cold hiss. SARA You're already dead, Silberman. Everybody here dies. You know I believe that. So don't fuck with me! SILBERMAN Open the goddamn door! The attendants look at one another. One of them finally hits the solenoid button. The far door unlocks. IN THE LOCKOUT CORRIDOR. Sara pushes Silberman ahead of her. The nearer, barred door must be unlocked manually. One of the attendants cautiously approaches. Nervously unlocks it. SARA Step back! He does. She faces both of them. SARA Down on the floor! Now! They comply. She comes through with Silberman, giving them a wide berth. Starts backing down the hall away from them, still holding her hostage. She's actually pulling this off. ANGLE FROM BEHIND HER. What we can see, but she can't, is a third orderly waiting just around the corner. He's poised, ready to jump her when she comes abreast of him. ON SARA backing up. She reaches the corner. The third attendant lunges, grabbing her syringe-hand. Sara spins on the orderly and catches him across the throat with the nightstick. He loses interest fast, dropping to his knees and gagging. Silberman pulls away, screaming at the top of his lungs. SILBERMAN Get her! They scramble up as Sara takes off like a shot around the corner. One of them hits the panic button and ALARMS begin to sound. IN THE ISOLATION WARD, the T-1000 is looking in at a very stoned attendant inside the nurses' station when the alarms shriek through the halls. It reaches into its chest and pulls out the 9mm pistol. Heads for the security entrance. IN ANOTHER CORRIDOR in the maze of the vast hospital, Sara flies past us, her bare feet slapping on the cold tiles. The orderlies charge after her. She's like an animal in a maze. She turns a corner, glancing off the wall, and sprints on without slowing. She reaches a steel door. Tries it. Locked. Footsteps like a drum solo behind her. She fumbles with Douglas's keys, breathing hard. Jams the master in. The orderlies are bearing down on her at full tilt. Sara gets the door open. Dives through. Slams it. She turns a deadbolt knob just as the first orderly grabs the latch on the other side. He's too late. Sara sees them beyond the window, fumbling with their keys. Sara is in another sally-port corridor. A jail-cell type barred door is between her and the corridors of the ward beyond. She sprints to the wall of bars, jams her key into the door. She unlocks and pulls open this door just as she hears the latch of the one she just came through being unlocked. She flings herself frantically through the barred door as the first orderly comes through behind her. She slams the bars shut. CLANG. Her keys are dangling from the lock on the other side from her. The orderly is racing at her, white-lipped with rage. She reaches back through the bars, turns the key, and purposefully snaps it off in the lock. An instant later the big orderly slams against the door, grabbing through the bars for her as she dances back just out of reach. He lunges against the steel bars, unbelievably pissed off. Sara takes off running, looking back at the frustrated orderlies. They're shouting at each other, unable to fit their keys into the lock -- The broken-off key tip makes it impossible to get their keys in. Silberman shouts at them. SILBERMAN Go around, goddammit! Go around!! The orderlies run back the way they came, and along a cross-corridor to another set of doors. ON SARA as she rounds a corner and sees the elevators ahead. Now she's home-free. At a full tilt sprint, she's nearly there when the elevator doors part... TERMINATOR steps out... his head swivelling to face her. Sara reacts, stricken by the image from her worst nightmares. Her eyes go wide as momentum carries her forward. Her bare feet slip on the slick tile. She slams to the floor, staring up at the leather clad figure with the shotgun. She loses all semblance of courage and some of her sanity. She's not even aware that she is screaming, or what would be screaming if she could get the breath to do it. In slowed down dream-time, Sara scrambles back along the floor like a crab, spinning and clawing her way to her feet along the wall. She runs like the wind, like in her nightmare. If she looked back she would have seen John step warily out of the corridor behind Terminator. John, however, catches a glimpse of the fleeing Sara and figures out instantly what happened. JOHN Mom!! Wait! Sara doesn't hear. She has clicked fully into her own nightmare. They take off running after Sara. She is pelting down the long corridor, back the way she came. As she reaches an intersection with a cross corridor a white-clad figure blurs from that corridor. The orderly hits her in a flying¸ tackle. She skids across the floor, shrieking and struggling. The other two orderlies leap into the fray. SARA No! Help me! Goddammit, it's gonna kill us all!!! She is shouting, pleading, trying to get them to understand what is coming. They grab her thrashing arms and legs. They don't even look where the out-of-control woman is pointing... back along the corridor. They have her pinned to the cold tiles, a ring of faces above her. Silberman leans down to her, holding a syringe with a heavy dose of trank. Sara cranes her neck and sees the dark silhouette of Terminator coming up behind them. It is exactly her nightmare. She screams in utter hopelessness. Terminator, holding the shotgun in one hand, reaches down and grabs one of the orderlies with his other hand. He hurls the 200 pound guy against the far wall of the corridor. SMACK! He drops to the floor. The other two orderlies react instantly, leaping onto the intruder. Terminator seems to disappear for a moment under the two big guys. Then there is an explosion of white-clad figures, as the orderlies are flung outward like they stepped on a land mine. One crashes through a window¸ of safety glass and is caught before a two-story fall by the outer steel bars. The other crashes through an office door, splintering it into kindling. Silberman has jumped in to hold Sara. He is grabbed by a roll of skin at the back of his neck and lifted like a cat. The doctor feels his feet pedaling above the ground. He looks into the expressionless face. And it hits him. Sara was right... this guy isn't human. He feels the fabric of his reality crumbling. Then he feels himself flying through the air. The wall smacks him, then the floor kicks him in the face. He decides to lie there a second. Sara blinks, staring up at the figure looming over her. John kneels next to her. JOHN Mom, are you okay? She looks from Terminator to John. Back to Terminator. Is this a nightmare? Or has she finally gone truly mad? Incredibly, Terminator politely reaches its hand down to her, offering to help her up. The last thing she ever expected to see. TERMINATOR Come with me if you want to live. The orderlies are stirring. JOHN It's all right, Mom. He's here to help. Sara, in a daze, takes the huge hand in her shaking fingers. Terminator lifts her to her feet. John sees a COP standing thirty feet away, on the other side of the wall of bars. John doesn't know what we know, but he knows something's not right with this guy. Terminator turns to follow John's gaze. The T-1000 has his pistol in his hand, at his side. Terminator pushes John behind him. They start backing up. The T-1000 walks forward, reaching the bars. It doesn't stop. Its body divides like jello around the bars. As it squeezes itself through like metal playdough, its surface reforms perfectly on our side. We see it deform and squeeze through like a viscous paste forced past an obstacle. Silberman has recovered enough to be sitting up and watching this. That faint snapping sound is his mind. There is a CLINK and we see that the guard's gun has caught against the bars... the only solid object. The T-1000 turns its wrist and tries again, slipping the gun endwise through the gap. Sara is agape. Not reacting. It's been a heavy day for her. Terminator grabs John by the seat of his pants and hooks him up onto his back. John grabs him around the neck. Terminator raises the shotgun and starts backing up. TERMINATOR Go! Run! Sara doesn't need to be told twice. T-1000 walks toward them, opening fire with the Browning Hi-Power. Terminator straight-arms the 12 gauge like a pistol and FIRES. The stunned orderlies flop face down on the floor as the corridor is filled with high-velocity lead. One of them, stupidly running for the cross-corridor, gets hit by the T-1000. Terminator is hammered by several slugs, and the T-1000 is cratered by two buckshot hits. It staggers, but comes on. In the craters we see bright mercury before they close and reseal, disappearing in a second. Terminator makes it around the corner and breaks into a run. Ahead, Sara is already at the elevator. Terminator and John pile in and John slaps the button for "Garage Level". The doors start to close. T-1000 clears the corner. Terminator slams John and Sara back against the side walls as the T-1000 charges at them, rapid-firing the Browning. The rounds hit the steel doors as they close. T-1000 keeps pumping them at the closing gap. Inside, they see the backside of the doors denting with the hits that are punching holes in the other side. The Browning locks open, empty. T-1000 drops it without a glance back. The doors close. K-WHAM! The T-1000 hits them a split second later. The elevator hasn't moved yet. SSWWIKK! A sword-like blade rams in between the doors forcing them open. Terminator jams the shotgun through the widening gap. Punches the muzzle right INTO the T-1000's face -- BOOM!! We get a glimpse of the T-1000's head blown apart by the blast. It is hurled back. The doors close. The car descends. ON THE T-1000, outside the elevator. Its head, which is blown apart into two doughy masses lying on the shoulders, reforms quickly. There is no trace of the injury. It sees the closed doors and jams its hands between them, its fingertips becoming pry-bars. It pulls the doors apart with inhuman strength and LEAPS INTO THE OPEN SHAFT. It falls two floors and... IN THE ELEVATOR. Our trio hears a loud THUMP on the roof. Terminator, reloading the shotgun, looks up. Sara grabs the .45 from his waistband and aims it at the ceiling. BEAT... Then CLANGG!! a swordlike shaft punches through the ceiling and spears down four feet into the elevator car. It is inches from Sara's face. She opens fire, BAM-BAM-BAM -- right through the roof. Lightning fast the lance withdraws and thrusts down again, slashing Terminator's jacket, and missing John by inches. Terminator chambers a round and K-BOOM! the 12 gauge opens a hole in the ceiling. Terminator rocks out in a fury of firing/cocking/firing as the metal shafts slash down again and again. Sara yells in pain as one of them slices open her upper arm. The doors open. Sara pulls John out as soon as the gap is wide enough. They emerge into the basement. We see the Harley parked nearby. Terminator, in a rearguard action, fires another blast through the ceiling and runs out. He throws his leg over the Harley, kicks it to life with one powerful stroke and then whips something out of the inner pocket of his jacket. He throws it to John. A road flare!? In the elevator, the T-1000 has bashed a hole in the ceiling big enough to... Pour itself through. A massive blob of mercury extrudes from the opening. The mass drops through the hole, down out of frame, then comes back up into frame as Officer X. It seems to need just a second to get its mental act together after doing this kind of taffy-pull with itself. It opens its eyes and sees -- TERMINATOR, the shotgun held in his teeth, astride the roaring Harley twenty feet away. Terminator twists the throttle and pops the clutch. The back tire screams on the concrete. The front wheel lifts off the ground and the heavy bike launches in a thundering wheelie. Terminator gets off just before the bike hurtles into the elevator. The Harley slams the T-1000 square and smashes it right through the back wall of the elevator. Terminator rolls to his feet. John strikes the flare on the concrete. Tosses it. Terminator catches the lit flare with one hand. Levels the shotgun with the other. With his last round he blows a big hole in the bike's gas tank. Gas splashes everywhere, covering the struggling T-1000. Terminator tosses the flare. KA-VOOOM! The explosion knocks Terminator backward off his feet, enveloping him in the fireball. He gets up, smoking, and runs after John and Sara toward the exit ramp. AT THE EXIT RAMP. They are partway up when a blue-and-white hospital security car comes screeching down the other way. Without breaking stride Sara runs right at the car. It skids to a shrieking halt. She's in the guy's face with the .45 in both hands. SARA Out of the car!! The patrol guy is thinking what he can try when BAM! she puts a round through the glass next to his head. SARA RIGHT NOW! The door opens and the guy is coming out with his hands up as Terminator arrives. The cyborg flings the rent-a-cop out of the way and slides behind the wheel. Sara gets John into the back seat and dives into the front passenger seat as -- Terminator slams the car in reverse and punches it, lighting up the tires on the slick ramp. Terminator hands the shotgun over his shoulder to John and tells him to reload. John pulls some shells from the pocket of his army jacket and starts feeding them in. Terminator powers backward up the ramp, scraping along one wall, barely in control. Because... The T-1000 is running at them out of the inferno below. This guy won't quit. Shifting from chrome mode to the cop-form as it runs. It sprints up the ramp after the retreating car. T-1000 is gaining. Terminator hands Sara another magazine for the .45. She snatches it, drops the other out, and slaps in the new one. Cocks the slide. The car backs along the service driveway toward the security gate. John hands the shotgun back to Terminator. He leans out the window and takes aim at the pursuer. The T-1000's face is right in the headlights. Terminator fires, blowing a hole in its shoulder. Shiny liquid metal visible in the hole, which then closes. Sara, half out the passenger window, opens fire. The car crashes backward through the security barricade. TERMINATOR (calmly) Hang on. He cuts the wheel hard. The car slews into a reverse 180, swapping ends with a screech. T-1000 is almost on them. Terminator punches it. The car accelerates forward. T-1000 leaps. Lands on the trunk. Its hand is a metal crowbar slammed down through the trunk lid. Feet dragging on the pavement, it slams its other hand down, punching another metal hook into the trunk lid, pulling itself up. Terminator turns to Sara. TERMINATOR Drive. Terminator heaves himself half out of the driver's window. Sara slaps her foot down on he throttle and steers from the passenger side. T-1000, fully on the car now, holds on with one hook-hand while it slams the other into the back window, sweeping away the glass and missing John by inches as he ducks. It draws back for another swing, lunging forward as -- Terminator whips the shotgun down over the roof of the car. Fires point-blank. Hits the T-1000's arm just above the "hand" which anchors it to the car. The 12 gauge blows the arm apart, severing the hook-hand. T-1000 tumbles backward off the accelerating car. John looks out the back window, his eyes wide. He sees the T-1000 roll to his feet and continue running. But he's dropping way behind now. Sara has the car floored and the liquid-metal killer won't catch them on foot. John watches, in awe, as the "crowbar hand", stuck into the trunk right in front of him, reverts to the neutral polyalloy... a kind of thick mercury. The gray metal slides off the trunk of the car and falls onto the road to lie there in a quivering blob. The car speeds off into the night. REVERSE on the T-1000, walking now, coming right up into close up, watching the tail lights recede. It looks down. ANGLE ON BLACKTOP, tight on the liquid metal blob. Next to it is the T-1000's shiny cop shoe. The mercury blob crawls and rejoins the main mass, disappearing into the "shoe". 81 int./ ext. security car 81 A GHOST CAR blasts out of the darkness on a long stretch of moonlit highway. Headlights off, the Hospital Security car punches a hole in the wind. INSIDE THE SPEEDING CAR the energy is still high. The air is blasting in the shattered windows as Terminator drives the car easily by electronic night-vision. His eyes glow faintly red. JOHN Can you even see anything? TERMINATOR'S POV. A monochrome image of the highway lit bright as day. Terminator replies in a matter of fact tone. TERMINATOR Everything. JOHN Cool. Sara looks at Terminator, still not quite believing this is happening. But this is a different Sara than the waitress of 1984. She spends only a second or two dealing with the unbelievable. Then she turns to John in the back seat. SARA You okay? He nods. She reaches for John and we think she's going to hug him. She starts to rub her hands over him and we realize she's checking for injuries, very clinically the way a vet checks a dog for broken bones. He pulls away from her. He hates her always checking him, treating him like he might break, like some piece of rare china. JOHN I said I was okay. Sara looks at him, exasperated and stern. SARA It was stupid of you to go there. John stares at her, surprised. SARA Goddammit, John, you have to be smarter than that. You're too important! You can't risk yourself, not even for me, do you understand? I can take care of myself. I was doing fine. Jesus, John. You almost got yourself killed. We see his chin quiver. He's a tough kid, but all he really wants is for her to love him. He hasn't had enough years on the planet yet to be the man of steel she demands. JOHN I... had to get you out of that place... I'm sorry, I... His face crumples. He starts to cry. Sara gives him a cold stare. SARA Stop it! Right now! You can't cry, John. Other kids can afford to cry. You can't. He's trying to be brave, he really is. Terminator turns and sees the water leaking from his eyes. It doesn't make any sense to him. TERMINATOR What is wrong with your eyes? John turns away, ashamed. Sara lets her breath out, realizing how keyed up she is. She turns to Terminator, giving him a wary once-over. SARA So what's your story? Cut to: 82 ext. mental hospital 82 The cops have shown up, as they always do. There are black and whites everywhere, and ambulances are arriving. Two cops and an orderly are required to subdue poor doctor Silberman, who is raving at the top of his lungs. SILBERMAN ...it was all true and we're all going to die and the guy changed, I saw him change!! It's quite pathetic. A nurse shoots him up with a sedative. They lead him away. T-1000 walks unperturbed among the milling cops. No-one notices him. He slips into his cruiser and drives off into the night. 83 int. car 83 Terminator drives steadily into the black night. SARA This T-1000... what happens when you shoot it? TERMINATOR Ballistic penetration shocks it, but only for a few seconds. Sara thinks about that. Then. SARA Can it be destroyed? TERMINATOR Unknown. They ride along in silence for a few seconds. Sara sees something up ahead, some lonely neon in the blackness. SARA Pull in here. We have to ditch this car. 84 EXT. SERVICE STATION - NIGHT 84 A rundown gas station with a buzzing neon sign and no-one around. They pull into the drive and slowly cruise past the empty office. A sign in the window says CLOSED SUNDAY. They continue around the building to the garage's back door. AT THE GARAGE DOOR. Terminator breaks the lock on the roll-up door and raises it. Sara pulls the security car in out of sight. Terminator rolls the door down behind them. 85 INT. GAS STATION 85 Dark. Sara switches on the single drop-light. She and Terminator look at each other. Terminator is shot-up and bleeding, and Sara has a vicious slash in her upper arm which has soaked her sleeve with blood. SARA You look like handmade shit. TERMINATOR So do you. CUT TO: TIGHT ON FIRST AID KIT from the office, plus some not-so-oily rags, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a few small tools, and other makeshift odds and ends. Terminator's hand comes into shot. Sets down a bloody rag. Picks up a clean one. WIDER. Sara sits on an empty crate. Terminator is beside her, suturing her wound with some fine wire from the winding of an alternator. Using a pair of needlenose pliers he draws the wire through her pale skin with a delicate hand. TERMINATOR I have detailed files on human anatomy. Sara stares into his face, inches away, fighting the pain. She doesn't like him being this close to her to begin with, let alone carving on her. SARA I'll bet. Makes you a more efficient killer, right? TERMINATOR Correct. Cut to: TIGHT ON TERMINATOR'S BACK. The leather jacket is riddled with bullet holes. Sara and John help pull it off, revealing Terminator's broad, muscled back beneath. WIDER. John and Sara stare in amazement. There are at least twenty bullet holes in him. Back Arms. Legs. Fortunately they're all 9mm. The holes are small and the damage cosmetic. JOHN Does it hurt? TERMINATOR I sense the injuries. The data could be called pain. TIGHT ON SARA AND TERMINATOR. -- Sara starts washing the bullet holes in his broad back with alcohol. SARA Will these heal up? Terminator nods. She reaches into the bloody wounds with pliers and finds the copper-jacketed bullets, flattened against his armored endoskeleton. Pulls them out. They CLINK one by one into a glass. SARA That's good. Because if you can't pass for human, you won't be much good to us. She concentrates on removing the slugs. CLINK. CLINK. JOHN How long do you live. I mean last? TERMINATOR A hundred and twenty years on my existing power cell. Sara nods, pulling out another slug. CLINK. The glass is nearly full of flattened bullets. She begins to sew the holes closed with a few wire sutures. John watches in quiet amazement, the two warriors calmly fixing each other. JOHN Can you learn? So you can be... be... you know. More human. Not such a dork all the time. Terminator turns toward him. TERMINATOR My CPU is a neural-net processor... a learning computer. But Skynet presets the switch to "read only" mode when we are sent out alone. SARA (cynical) Doesn't want you thinking too much, huh? TERMINATOR No. JOHN Can we reset the switch? CUT TO: E.C.U. OF AN X-ACTO KNIFE cutting into Terminator's scalp at the base of his skull. His voice calmly directs Sara as she spreads the bloody incision and locates the maintenance port for the CPU in the chrome skull beneath. TERMINATOR Now open the port cover. She wipes away the blood and uses the garage-mechanic's air tools to unscrew the port cover. TERMINATOR POV (DIGITIZED) as he watches her work in a mirror they've taken from the washroom. Sara and John are standing behind him. Her hands are covered with blood, like a surgeon's. TERMINATOR Hold the CPU by its base tab. Pull. Following his instructions, she reaches in with a pair of tweezers and PULLS -- There is a BURST OF STATIC and the screen goes BLACK. CUT TO: TIGHT ON JOHN AND SARA looking at what she has removed. A reddish brown ceramic rectangle with a connector on one end. About the size and shape of a domino. On close inspection it appears to be made up of small cubes connected together. It is identical to the shattered one in the vault at Cyberdyne Systems. Now we know what it is that Miles Dyson values so highly. The brain of a terminator. WIDER. John walks around Terminator and looks at his face. Eyes open, he is completely inert. Dead. John lifts his huge hand. The dead servos whine sullenly as he forces them. It's like rigor mortis. He releases the hand and it stays in the lifted position. Sara examines the CPU chip. JOHN Can you see the pin switch? She ignores him. She looks at Terminator. Then back at the chip. Then she sets it on the work table and picks up a small sledge hammer. John realizes what she is about to do. Dives at her as the sledge is whistling down. JOHN No!!!! He slaps his hand down over the chip. Sara barely stops the sledge before smashing his fingers. SARA Out of the way, John! JOHN No! Don't kill him! SARA It, John. Not him. It. JOHN Alright, it. We need it! John keeps his hand right where it is. SARA We're better off by ourselves. JOHN But it's the only proof we have of the future... about the war and all that. SARA I don't trust it! These things are hard to kill, John, believe me, I know. We may never have this opportunity again. JOHN Look, Mom, if I'm supposed to ever be this great leader, you should start listening to my leadership ideas once in a while. 'Cause if you won't, nobody else will. Smart kid. He's got her. She nods, reluctantly. He palms the chip and studies it minutely. John takes a pin and moves the almost invisible switch to the other position. It is now in "write" mode. Then he grimaces as he inserts the wafer back into the slot in Terminator's skull. TERMINATOR VISION flares back to life in a burst of static. The image forms. Sara and John stand behind him in the mirror. TERMINATOR Was there a problem? John glances sheepishly at Sara. Then smiles at Terminator. JOHN No problem. None whatsoever. CUT TO: JOHN SLEEPING, lying on a pile of rags next to a stack of tires. The lights are off. Sara sits nearby, crosslegged, her back against the wall. The .45 is cradled in her lap. She looks weary, but she won't allow herself to sleep with Terminator present. By the office windows, in a slash of moonlight, is Terminator. He stands silent and still, watching the night. Only his eyes move, tracking with the occasional car passing on the road. His figure¸ silhouetted and still. DISSOLVE TO: SAME IMAGE. Now DAYLIGHT streams in the dusty windows. Terminator has not moved. Faithful machine sentinel. He turns at a sound. John stirs, waking up. He squints at the sunlight. Sara is still awake. She gets up, wincing at the pain in her arm. Cut to: 92 ext. gas station - day (later) 92 John and Terminator walk to an old Chevy pickup parked behind the garage. The day is clear but windy. Dust devils chase themselves behind the place. The pickup is locked but Terminator breaks the side-window with his fist and opens the door. He and John climb in. IN THE PICK UP. Terminator has this trick (which you could do too if you had servo-driven steel fingers) where he smashes the cowl around a steering column with one blow from the palm of his hand. When it shatters he strips it away with a single move, and then turns the stub of the lock-mechanism with his fingertips. This starts the vehicle. It takes about three seconds. In fact, he does it so quickly, the truck is running by the time John flips down the sun visor. A set of keys drops out and John catches them. Dangles them in front of Terminator's eyes. JOHN Are we learning yet? Sara comes out. She's found a mechanic's coverall inside, used but fairly clean. It doesn't fit too well but it's better than the stuff from the hospital. She's still barefoot. The sun, which she hasn't seen in months, hurts her eyes. Terminator and John pull up in the pickup. She gets in. TERMINATOR We need to get as far from the city as possible. SARA Just head south. Cut to: 93 int. / ext. pickup truck / highway - day 93* THE OPEN ROAD. The pick-up roars through light traffic down a long stretch of highway. They sit three abreast on the bench seat, John in between, like some improbable family on a car trip. Sara leans over to get a look at the speedometer. SARA Keep it under sixty five. We can't afford to get pulled over. Terminator backs off the throttle slightly. TERMINATOR Affirmative. JOHN No, no, no. You gotta listen to the way people talk. See, you don't say like "Affirmative" or some shit like that. You say... no problemo. Terminator nods, filing away the information. Sara is ignoring the lesson, lost in thought. JOHN If someone gets upset you say " chill out". If someone comes off to you with attitude, you say "eat me"... if you wanna shine them on it's "Hasta la vista, baby". TERMINATOR Hasta la vista, baby? JOHN Yeah, or "later, dickwad." Or if someone gets upset you say "chill out." Like that. Or you can do combinations. TERMINATOR Chill out, dickwad. JOHN That's great! See, you're getting it. TERMINATOR No problemo. Cut to: 94 OMITTED 94 94A OMITTED 94A 95 OMITTED 95 TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 60 96 ext. roadside stand/gas station - day 96 There's a gas pump and a sleazy fast-food stand. Picnic tables are set up at the side of the food stand. A family sits at one, children playing and running about. The pickup truck pulls into the lot. Stops at the gas pump. Sara turns to John. SARA You got any cash? John pulls what's left of his Ready Teller money from his pocket. JOHN Only a couple of hundred. I'll give you half. Sara grabs all of it. Peels off a twenty, hands it to John. SARA Get some food. She opens the truck door and steps out. John turns to Terminator. JOHN No sense of humor. THE ORDERING WINDOW as John and Terminator approach. JOHN And that's another thing. You could lighten up a bit, yourself. This severe routine is getting old. Smile once in a while. TERMINATOR Smile? JOHN Yeah. Smile. You know. People smile, right? Watch. Goes to the order window. JOHN (smiling broadly) Hi. Nice place you got here. How's business? WINDOW WOMAN (stone faced) Gimme a break. JOHN (to Terminator) Okay. Bad example. Over there, look. John points at THREE TEENAGE GUYS standing at a drinking fountain nearby. One of them has said something funny and the others are laughing, grinning. JOHN Like that. TERMINATOR POV (DIGITIZED) The real-time image continues while a replay of one of the guys grinning runs in a window. It expands, so that the guy's mouth fills the window. Replays again in slow motion. A vector-graphic of lips smiling appears, along with an array of symbolic data. Terminator tries it. The result is dismal. A rictus-like curling up of the lip. Terminator's next effort is a marginal improvement. JOHN I don't know, maybe you could practice in front of a mirror or something. CUT TO: 98 EXT. REST STOP/PICKUP TRUCK - DAY (LATER) 98 Sara and John are eating cheeseburgers and fries, sitting in the truck and on the curb respectively. They are parked away from the other families, at the end of the gravel parking area. Terminator is pouring coolant into the radiator. Sara is deep in thought, turning and turning the whole thing in her brain. John, unable to deal with her silence, goes around to where Terminator is working. John sees two kids playing with machine-gun watering pistols nearby, viciously squirting each other. FIRST KID You're dead! SECOND KID Am not! FIRST KID Are so! John and Terminator watch them rolling on the ground in a fight to the death. Sara rounds the front of the truck, and sees the kids. John sighs, solemn. He looks up at the cyborg. JOHN We're not gonna make it, are we? People, I mean. TERMINATOR It is in your nature to destroy yourselves. John nods, depressed. JOHN Yeah. Drag, huh? SARA I need to know how Skynet gets built. Who's responsible? TERMINATOR The man most directly responsible is Miles Bennet Dyson, director of Special Projects at Cyberdyne Systems Corporation. SARA Why him? TERMINATOR In a few months he creates a revolutionary type of microprocessor. SARA Then what? Terminator closes the hood and gets into the truck as he speaks. TERMINATOR In three years Cyberdyne will become the largest supplier of military computer systems. All stealth bombers are upgraded with Cyberdyne computers, becoming fully unmanned. Afterward, they fly with a perfect operational record. SARA (getting in behind John) Uh huh, great. Then those fat fucks in Washington figure, what the hell, let a computer run the whole show, right? TERMINATOR Basically. (starting the engine, backing out) The Skynet funding bill is passed. The system goes on-line August 4th, 1997. Human decisions are removed from strategic defense. Skynet begins to learn, at a geometric rate. It becomes self-aware at 2:14 a.m. eastern time, August 29. In a panic, they try to pull the plug. SARA And Skynet fights back. They accelerate back onto the highway. TERMINATOR Yes. It launches its ICBMs against their targets in Russia. SARA Why attack Russia? TERMINATOR Because Skynet knows the Russian counter-strike will remove its enemies here. SARA Jesus. (beat, then) How much do you know about Dyson? TERMINATOR I have detailed files. SARA I want to know everything. What he looks like. Where he lives. Everything. 99 int. dyson house - day 99 Miles Dyson sits at the huge desk in his study. He is deep in thought, tapping away at the keyboard of his home computer terminal. Next to his desk are racks of sophisticated gear. On a Sunday morning, when most men are relaxing, spending time with their families, Dyson is hard at work. IN A PROFILE CLOSEUP we see him in deep concentration, his mind prowling the labyrinth of his new microprocessor. A WOMAN'S FACE ENTERS FRAME soundlessly behind him. He doesn't hear her. His wife, TARISSA, extends her tongue and traces it down the back of his neck. He smiles and turns to kiss her good morning. She's still in her bathrobe, holding coffee. He's been up for hours. He turns and goes back to work, forgetting instantly that she is standing there. She watches him work, the arcane symbols moving across the screen. We see her frustration, her inability to truly enter the magic box of his world. TARISSA You going to work all day? DYSON I'm sorry, baby. This thing is just kicking my ass. I thought we had it with this one... He points to a metal box on his desk, about two feet long. An assembly of small cubes. It looks like a dinosaur version of Terminator's CPU. DYSON ...but the output went to shit after three seconds. I'm thinking now it's in the way I'm matrixing the command hierarchies TARISSA You need a break. You'll see it clearer when you come back. DYSON I can't. TARISSA Miles, it's Sunday. You promised to take the kids to Raging Waters today. DYSON Oh. I can't honey. I'm on a roll here. He takes her hands. We see a childlike excitement in his face. He wants so badly to share the almost orgasmic thrill of discovery, the satisfaction of creation. DYSON Baby, this thing is going to blow 'em all away. It's a neural-net process -- TARISSA I know. You told me. It's a neural-net processor. It thinks and learns like we do. Its superconducting at room temperature. Other computers are pocket calculators by comparison. (she pulls away from him) But why is that so goddamn important, Miles? I really need to know, cause I feel like I'm going crazy here, sometimes. DYSON I'm sorry honey, it's just that I'm thiiis close. He holds up his thumb and index finger... a fraction of an inch apart. She picks up the prototype. It doesn't look like much. DYSON Imagine a jetliner with a pilot that never makes a mistake, never gets tired, never shows up to work with a hangover. (he taps the prototype) Meet the pilot. TARISSA Why did you marry me, Miles? Why did we have these two children? You don't need us. Your heart and your mind are in here. (she stares at the metal box in her hands) But it doesn't love you like we do. He takes the anodized box from her hands and sets it down. Then he puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses her gently. She acquiesces to his kiss. DYSON I'm sorry. Tarissa glances over his shoulder. She nods her head toward the doorway to the study. Dyson turns and sees their two kids standing there. Danny (6) and Blythe (4) look rumpled and adorable in their PJs. Dyson wilts at their hopeful expressions. TARISSA How about spending some time with your other babies? Dyson grins. The forces of darkness have lost this round. He holds out his hands and his kids run to him, cheering. CUT TO: 100-117 OMITTED A100 EXT. desert / compound - DAY a100* The desert northwest of Calexico. Burning under the sun like a hallucination. Heat shimmers the image, mirage-like. Terminator turns the pickup off the paved road and barrels along a roadbed of sand and gravel, trailing a huge plume of dust. A sign at the turnoff says: CHARON MESA 2 MI CALEXICO 15 MI AHEAD is a pathetic oasis of humanity in the vast wasteland, a couple of aging house-trailers, surrounded by assorted junk vehicles and desert-style trash. There is a dirt airstrip behind the¸ trailers, and a stripped Huey helicopter sitting on blocks nearby. The truck rolls to a stop in a cloud of dust. The place looks deserted. The door to the nearest trailer bangs in the wind. SARA (to Terminator and John) Stay in the truck. ANGLE FROM INSIDE ANOTHER TRAILER, NEARBY. A DARK FIGURE in the F.G. has an AK 47 trained on the pickup as Sara gets out. ON SARA peering through the backlit dust. The sound of wind. She approaches the trailer. SARA (in Spanish) Enrique? You here? She hears KACHACK! 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 moustache. He wears cowboy boots and a flak vest, no shirt. SALCEDA You pretty jumpy, Conner. 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, Conner. 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... TERMINATOR Uncle Bob? SALCEDA (to Sara) So, Saralita, 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 the child up 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 Sara grabs it and takes a long plug. She lowers it without expression. Her eyes don't even water. SARA 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? SARA Now, Enrique. (turns to Terminator and John) You two are on weapons detail. Cut to: A103 Ext. compound/ behind the trailers A103* 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. A104 int. weapons cache A104 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 Sara'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. A105 ext. compound / nearby A105 Sara 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 Sara approaches, and slaps the side of a BIG FOUR-BY BRONCO next to him. SALCEDA This is the best truck, but the water pump is blown. You got the time to change it out? SARA 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 claps him on the shoulder. Cut to: A106 int. weapons cache A106* 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 movements 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 a second. The thought never occurred to him. He searches his mind for the answer... TERMINATOR No. Terminator slings the M-79 and starts looking for the grenades. JOHN Not even of dying? TERMINATOR No. 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 Masterson. 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 cannister 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. Cut to: A107 ext. compound - day/LATER A107* Sara and John have their weapons and supply selections laid out on two battered picnic tables for cleaning and packing. Maps, radios, documents, explosives, detonators... just the basics. Sara is field-stripping and cleaning guns, very methodically. 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 place 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'd be all she wrote. John thinks he's being casual, 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. TERMINATOR You will. 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 No. Terminator gets into the Bronco and turns the ignition key and the engine catches with a roar. JOHN Alriiight!! 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. SARA, across the compound, pauses in her work to watch John and Terminator. TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 *71 SARA'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: SARA (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. Sara clenches her jaw and goes grimly back to work... a strong woman made hard and cold by years of hard choices. Cut to: A110 ext. road - day A110* 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 him. Sara'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 sign of its target. SARA ...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. He glances up at the sound of crunching gravel. In the rearview he sees a BIKE COP pulling onto the shoulder behind him. 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. (he gets slowly out of the car) Since you're here, though, can I talk to you a second... Cut to: A112 ext. highway - day / minutes later A112* The T-1000 thunders along on the Kawasaki 1100, doing about a hundred and twenty. PAN WITH IT until it recedes toward the horizon. Cut to: TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 79 A113 ext. compound - day (late afternoon) A113* Sara sits at the picnic table. The weapons are cleaned and her work is done. She hasn't slept in twenty four hours and she seems to have the weight of the whole world on her shoulders. She draws her knife from its belt sheath. Idly starts to carve something on the table top... the letter "N". NOT FAR AWAY, John and Terminator are packing the Bronco for the trip. ON SARA, AT THE TABLE as she looks up from her carving, thinking. She watches Salceda's kids playing nearby... wrestling with a mutty dog and loving it. Sara watches Yolanda walking her toddler by the hands. Backlit, stylized. She looks over at John. Loading guns and supplies. ANGLE ON kids playing. SARA'S HEAD droops. She closes her eyes. TIGHT ON small children playing. Different ones. Wider now, to reveal a playground in a park. Very idyllic. A dream playground, crowded with laughing kids playing on swings, slides, and a jungle gym. It could be the playground we saw melted and frozen in the post-nuclear desolation of 2029. But here the grass is vibrant green and the sun is shining. Sara, short-haired, looking drab and paramilitary, stands outside the playground. An outsider. Her fingers are hooked in a chain link fence and she is staring through the fence at the young mothers playing with their kids. A grim-faced harbinger. Some girls play skip-rope. Their sing-song chant weaves through the random burbling laughter of the kids. One of the young mothers walks her two year old son by the hands. She is wearing a pink waitress uniform. She turns to us, laughing. It is Sara. Beautiful. Radiant. Sara from another life, uncontaminated by the dark future. She glances at the strange woman beyond the fence. Grim-faced Sara presses against the fence. She starts shouting at them in SLOW MOTION. No sound comes from her mouth. She grabs the fence in frustration, shaking it. Screaming soundlessly. Waitress Sara's smile falls. Then returns as her little boy throws some sand at her. She laughs, turning away, as if the woman at the fence were a shadow, a trick of the light. Behind her the earth splits open. In a wide shot we see everyone stop and stare as the ground heaves upward all around them. As far as the eye can see the monstrous caps of missile silos are hinging up, ripping up through the grass and soil. Now the mothers are screaming, pulling their children to them... but it is too late to run. The silo caps are open, rows of them marching to the horizon. As if a tranquil reality has split open to reveal another horrible reality which has always been there, hidden beneath it. Thunder shakes the earth. We see the obscene heads of the missiles thrusting up out of the holes in the ground. Walls of fire erupt as the fat cylinders rise like awakened monsters from the earth. Sara stares in numb horror as the tail-nozzles clear the silo rims, and a wall of flame roars out, devouring the cowering mothers and children. Incinerating them and rolling on, toward her. She screams and we hear it now, shrill and terrifying, mixing with the thunder as the flames wrap around her, blasting her apart and she... Wakes up. All is quiet and normal. The children are still running through the sprinkler nearby. Less than fifteen minutes have gone by. Bathed in sweat, Sara sits hunched over the table. Every muscle is shaking. She is gasping. Sara struggles to breathe, running her hand through her hair which is soaked with sweat. She can escape from the hospital, but she can't escape from the madness which haunts her. She looks down at the words she has carved on the table, amid the scrawled hearts and bird-droppings. They are: "NO FATE." Something changes in her eyes. She slams her knife down in the table top, embedding it deeply in the words. Then gets up suddenly and we -- CUT TO: LONG LENS on Sara walking toward us, striding across the compound with grim purpose. She carries a small nylon pack and a heavy FN FAL .308 assault rifle. Her face is an impassive mask. She has become a terminator. JOHN LOOKS UP from his work in time to see Sara throw the rifle behind the seat of their stolen pickup, jump in and start it. She slams it in gear. Salceda walks up to John. SALCEDA She said you go south with him... (he points at Terminator) ...tonight, like you planned. She will meet you tomorrow in... But John is moving, running after her. JOHN Mommm!! Wait!! MOVING WITH SARA as she leaves the compound. We see John running after her... yelling. Can't hear his words. She looks in the rear-view mirror but doesn't slow down. Cut to: A121 ext. compound - dusk / minutes later A121* John and Terminator ponder the message carved into the top of the picnic table. Sara's knife is still imbedded there. JOHN "No fate." No fate but what we make. My father told her this... I mean I made him memorize it, up in the future, as a message to her -- Never mind. Okay, the whole thing goes "The future is not set. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves." TERMINATOR She intends to change the future somehow. JOHN I guess, yeah -- (snaps his fingers as it hits him) Oh shit!! TERMINATOR Dyson. JOHN Yeah, gotta be! Miles Dyson! She's gonna blow him away! We gotta stop her. John motions to Terminator and breaks into a run. JOHN Come on. Let's go. LET'S GO!! Cut to: A122 int. / ext. SARA's jeep - dusk A122* Sara speeds through the darkening desert. Expressionless. In her dark glasses, she looks as pitiless as an insect. Dissolve to: A123 ext. highway - night A123* TRACKING WITH THE BRONCO, Terminator and John heading toward L.A. TERMINATOR Why do you want to stop her? Killing Dyson may prevent the war. JOHN I don't care!! There's gotta be another way. Haven't you learned anything?! Haven't you figured out why you can't kill people? Terminator is still stumped. JOHN Look, maybe you don't care if you live or die. But everybody's not like that! Okay?! We have feelings. We hurt. We're afraid. You gotta learn this stuff, man, I'm not kidding. It's important. PAN THEM BY as they pass, revealing the lights of the city ahead. Cut to: A124 EXT. DYSON'S HOUSE - NIGHT A124* The house is high-tech and luxurious. Lots of glass. Dyson's study is lit bluish with the glow from his computer monitors. He is at the terminal, working. Where else? We see him clearly in a long shot from an embankment behind the house. A DARK FIGURE moves into the foreground. Rack focus to Sara as she turns into profile. She raises the FN FAL rifle and begins screwing the long heavy cylinder of a sound-suppressor onto the end of the barrel. Cut to: A125 ext. salceda's camp - night A125* SALCEDA'S DOG, teeth bared, barks a furious warning. The SOUND of machine gun fire erupts, drowning him out. YOLANDA, clutching a .45 Officer's Colt, sweeps Paco and Juanita up in her arms and races away. SALCEDA is firing an MP5K on full auto, its strobing barrel flash lighting up the camp. CAMERA PUSHING IN ON HIM AS... THE T-1000 calmly walks toward him, unbothered by the stream of bullets. Unhurried. Salceda, amazed, is backing toward his truck, and the stacks of crated grenades and ammo boxes beside it. The T-1000 keeps coming. Steps right up to Salceda, knocks the weapon away and slams him to the ground. Salceda sprawls against one of the open wooden crates. T-1000 kneels before him. Points his finger. THUNK. Salceda screams, pinned to the crate by a two-foot steel needle through his left lung. T-1000 Where is John Conner? SALCEDA John who? THUNK!! Another needle slams through him. Salceda struggles to breathe against the excruciating pain. T-1000 (almost soothingly) I know this hurts. Where is John Conner? Salceda's hand gropes in the open crate of grenades behind him. He clutches one. Then apparently ready to cooperate he clutches T-1000's shoulder and struggles to pull himself closer, up along the impaling spikes. Behind the T-1000's neck, Salceda pulls the grenade's pin with his free hand. The spoon flies off... CLINK. SALCEDA FUCK YOU!! The truck, Salceda, and the T-1000 vanish in a MASSIVE EXPLOSION as the grenade sets off the other munitions. A huge ball of fire ascends into the night. YOLANDA, huddled with her children, the .45 held before her in a combat grip, screams as -- A CHROME HEAD rolls out of the inferno and comes to rest in the dirt, the liquid metal mouth gulping like a gaffed fish. figure appears, silhouetted by the fire... or most of a figure. We TRACK WITH the polished black cop shoes toward the head lying in the dirt. A hand enters frame. The head dissolves and fuses with the hand, like two blobs of solder running together. IN CLOSE-UP, the T-1000 rises into frame, whole again. It trains its gaze on Yolanda and the children. She stares in shock at the thing approaching. She slowly lowers the useless pistol. The T-1000 walks right up to her. It reaches down and picks up little Juanita. Gives her a friendly smile. T-1000 Do you know where John Conner is? The child mutely shakes her head no. T-1000 nods, unperturbed. Points toward the road. Juanita follows with her eyes. T-1000 When they reached the main road, did they go north... (indicating) ...or south? She points north. T-1000 smiles. Sets her down, unharmed. T-1000 Thank you for your cooperation. With that, T-1000 turns and strides to his motorcycle parked a few yards away. Yolanda and her children silently watch as the Cop from Hell climbs onto the bike and and roars off into the night. Cut to: 120-128G OMITTED 120-128G 129 EXT. DYSON'S HOUSE 129 With the silencer in place, Sara eases back the bolt and then slips it forward, chambering a .308 round. Then she lies down on the embankment. Her cheek pressed against the cool rifle-stock, she slides one hand slowly forward to brace the heavy weapon, taking the weight on her elbow. Her other hand slips knowingly to the trigger. Her expression is cold, impassive. She looks through the scope at the man in the house. She feels nothing as she raises the rifle. 130 int. dyson house 130 Dyson's kids, Danny and Blythe, are playing in the halls with a radio-controlled off-road truck. Danny drives and Blythe scampers after it, trying to catch it. They stop in the hall outside Dyson's study and see him working at his terminal. Danny puts a finger to his lips, shushing Blythe. His expression is mischievous. DYSON, in deep thought. The rhythmic sounds of keys as he works. Symbols on the screen shift. ON HIS BACK we see a glowing red dot appear. It is the target dot of Sara's laser designator. It moves silently up his back toward his head. 131 EXT. DYSON HOUSE/ EMBANKMENT 131 IN EXTREME CLOSEUP we see Sara's eye at the night-scope. TIGHT INSERT on her finger as it tightens on the trigger, taking out the slack. She takes a deep breath and holds it. Adjusts her position minutely. 132 int. dyson house 132 The laser dot jiggles on the back of Dyson's neck and then rises, centering on the back of his skull. LOW ANGLE as Danny's Bigfoot truck roars toward us -- FILLING FRAME. Thump. It hits Dyson's foot. He jerks, startled, and looks down as -- POP!! His monitor screen is BLOWN OUT spraying him with glass. He jerks back, utterly shocked... and spins to see the huge hole blown through the window behind him. This saves him as K-THUMP! -- the second shot blows the top of his high-backed chair into an explosion of stuffing an inch from his head. Instinctively he dives to the carpet as -- BLAM BLAM BLAM -- rounds blast through the window, tearing into his desk and computer, blowing his keyboard into shrapnel. With the monitor screen blown out, the room is in darkness. Sara can't see Dyson now, down behind the desk. She puts round after round into the heavy desk, blasting one side of it into kindling. Dyson, scared out of his mind, has his face jammed against the carpet, terrified to move. He sees his kids in the hall. DYSON Run, kids! Go! Run! IN THE HALL, TARISSA rounds the corner at a dead run. She sees the kids running toward her and grabs them in her arms. Down the hall, in the dark study, she sees Dyson on the floor amid the splinters and shrapnel of the continuing fusillade. TARISSA Miles! Oh my God!! DYSON Stay back!! ON THE FLOOR, Dyson flinches as chunks of wood and shattered computer components shower down on him. He looks desperately toward the door, but knows he'd be totally exposed. He'd never make it. SARA's rifle empties with a final CLACK! She throws it down and draws her .45 smoothly from a shoulder holster. She starts toward the house, snapping back the slide on the pistol, chambering a round. She is in a fast, purposeful walk, keeping her eyes fixed on the target. She is utterly determined to kill this man. FROM UNDER THE DESK Dyson can see a sliver of the back yard. He sees Sara's feet as she strides toward him. He tenses to make a break for the door. Sara raises the pistol, eyes riveted ahead, controlling her breathing. Dyson springs up in a full-tilt sprint. She tracks him. He hooks a foot on the cord of a toppled disk-drive. BOOM! Her shot blows apart a lamp where his head was. He hits the floor hard, but keeps moving, scrambling forward. Crunch of glass behind him as Sara's dark form is framed in the blown-out floor-to-ceiling window. Dyson leaps toward the hall. BOOM! Her second shot spins him. He hits the floor in the hallway. Tarissa is screaming. Dyson struggles forward, stunned. There is a .45 caliber hole clean through his left shoulder. He smears the wall with blood as he staggers up. Looking back, he sees the implacable figure behind him, coming on. He topples through a doorway as -- BOOM! BOOM! Shots blowing away the molding where he just was. 135 EXT. DYSON HOUSE/ STREET 135 Terminator and John leap from their jeep, sprinting toward the house. The shots sound muffled from outside.¸ JOHN Shit, we're too late! 136 INT. HOUSE 136 Advancing with Sara we enter the living room. Tarissa has Blythe and she's screaming at Danny, who has run back to his collapsed father. TARISSA Danny! DANNY! DANNY Daaaaddddeeee! Danny is pulling at Dyson, crying and screaming, as his father tries to stagger forward. Tarissa drops Blythe and runs back for Dyson, grabbing him. Sara looms behind them with the pistol aimed. SARA Don't fucking move! Don't FUCKING MOVE!! (she swings the gun on Tarissa) Get on the floor, bitch! Now!! Fucking down! NOW!! Sara is crazy-eyed now, shaking with the intensity of the moment. The kill has gone bad, with screaming kids and the wife involved... things she never figured on. Tarissa drops to her knees, terrified as she looks into the muzzle of the gun. Blythe runs to Dyson and hugs him, wailing. BLYTHE Don't you hurt my father! SARA (screaming) Shut up, kid! Get out of the way!! Dyson looks up, through his pain and incomprehension. Why is this nightmare happening? The black gun muzzle is a foot from his face. DYSON (gasping) Please... let... the kids... go. SARA Shut up! SHUT UP!! Motherfucker! It's all your fault! IT'S YOUR FAULT!! We see her psyching herself to pull the trigger... needing now to hate this man she doesn't know. It's a lot harder face-to-face. She is bathed in sweat, and it runs into her eyes. Blinking, she wipes it fast with one hand, then gets it back on the gun. The .45 is trembling. TIGHT ON SARA as we see the forces at war behind her eyes. She looks into the faces of Dyson, Tarissa, Blythe, Danny. Sara takes a sharp breath and all the muscles in her arms contract as she tenses to fire. But her finger won't do it. She lowers the gun very slowly. It drops to her side in one hand. All the breath and energy seems to go out of her. She weakly raises her other hand in a strange gesture, like "Stay where you are, don't move". As if, should they move, the fragile balance might tip back the other way. She backs away from them slowly, panting. It's as if she's backing away in terror from what she almost did. She reaches a wall and slumps against it. Slides down to her knees. The gun falls limply from her fingers. She rests her cheek against the wall. The front door is kicked in. Terminator steps inside. John grabs his sleeve and pushes past him. He scopes out the situation in two seconds... Sara, the gun, the sobbing family. John moves to Sara while Terminator checks Dyson. John kneels in front of his mother. She raises her head to look at him. He sees the tears spilling down her cheeks. JOHN Mom? You okay? SARA I couldn't... oh, God. (she seems to see him for the first time) You... came here... to stop me? JOHN Uh huh. She reaches out and takes his shoulders suddenly, surprising him... drawing him to her. She hugs him and a great sob wells up from deep inside her, from a spring she had thought long dry. She hugs him fiercely as the sobs wrack her. John clutches her shoulders. It is all he ever wanted. JOHN It's okay. It'll be okay. We'll figure it out. SARA I love you, John. I always have. JOHN I know, Mom. I know. TARISSA looks around at the bizarre tableau. Terminator has wordlessly ripped open Dyson's shirt and examined the wound. TERMINATOR Clean penetration. No shattered bone. Compression should control the loss of blood. He takes Tarissa's hands and presses them firmly over the entrance and exit wounds. TERMINATOR Do you have bandages? DYSON In the bathroom. Danny, can you get them for us? Danny nods and runs down the hall. John disengages from Sara. She wipes at her tears, the instinct to toughen up taking over again. But the healing moment has had its effect, nevertheless. John walks toward Dyson and Terminator. DYSON Who are you people? John draws the Biker's knife from Terminator's boot. Hands it to him. JOHN Show him. Terminator takes off his jacket to reveal bare arms. John takes Blythe by the hand and leads her down the hall, away from what is about to happen. TIGHT ON TERMINATOR'S left forearm as the knife makes a deep cut just below the elbow. In one smooth motion, Terminator cuts all the way around his arm. With a second cut, he splits the skin of the forearm from elbow to wrist. TERMINATOR grasps the skins and strips it off his forearm like a surgeon rips off a rubber glove. It comes off with a sucking rip, leaving a bloody skeleton. But the skeleton is made of bright metal, and is laced with hydraulic actuators. The fingers are as finely crafted as watch parts... they flex into a fist and extend. Terminator holds it up, palm out, in almost the exact position of the one in the vault at Cyberdyne. HOLD ON DYSON reacting to the servo-hand in front of him. He's seen one of these before. Tarissa is screaming now, but he doesn't hear her. DYSON My God. TERMINATOR Now listen very carefully. 137 int. house/ kitchen - later 137 Sara puts out her fifth cigarette. She's sitting on the counter. John, Terminator, Dyson, and Tarissa are at the kitchen table, under a single overhead light. Dyson looks like that guy on the Sistine Chapel wall, the damned soul... eyes fixed and staring with terrifying knowledge. His shoulder is bandaged. Terminator's arm is wrapped with a blood-soaked bandage below the elbow. The steel forearm and hand gleams in the harsh kitchen light. TRACKING AROUND THE TABLE as Terminator speaks... we don't hear the words. SARA (v.o.) Dyson listened while the Terminator laid it all down. Skynet. Judgment Day... the history of things to come. It's not every day you find out you're responsible for 3 billion deaths. He took it pretty well, considering... Terminator finishes speaking. TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 91 DYSON I feel like I'm gonna throw up. He looks around at them, clutching the table like he's about to blow away. His face, his posture, his ragged voice express soul-wrenching terror. This is a man ripped out of normal life into their grim world. His voice is pleading. DYSON You're judging me on thing's I haven't even done yet. Jesus. How were we supposed to know? Sara speaks from the shadows behind them. Dyson turns to find her looking right at him. SARA Yeah. Right. How were you supposed to know? Fucking men... all you know how to do is thrust into the world with your... fucking ideas and your weapons. Did you know that every gun in the world is named after a man? Colt, Browning, Smith, Thompson, Kalashnikov... all men. Men built the hydrogen bomb, not women... men like you thought it up. You're so creative. You don't know what it's like to really create something... to create a life. To feel it growing inside you. All you know how to cr eate is death... you fucking bastards. JOHN Mom, Mom, we need to be more constructive here. I don't see this as a gender related issue. (to the Dysons) She's still tense. (to Sara) We still have to figure out how to stop it all from happening. Right? TARISSA But I thought... aren't we changing things? I mean... right now? Changing the way it goes? DYSON (seizing on that) That's right! There's no way I'm going to finish the new processor now. Forget it. I'm out of it. I'm quitting Cyberdyne tomorrow... I'll sell real estate, I don't care-- SARA (coldly) That's not good enough. Dyson's voice is pitiful. DYSON Look, whatever you want me to do, I'll do. I just want my kids to have a chance to grow up, okay? TERMINATOR No one must follow your work. DYSON (thoughts racing) Alright, yeah. You're right. We have to destroy the stuff at the lab, the files, disk drives... and everything I have here. Everything! I don't care. Cut to: FIRE ROARING IN A METAL TRASH-BARREL. Stacks of files are dumped onto it. WIDER reveals we are in -- 138A ext. dyson's backyard - night 138A Terminator dumps lighter fluid liberally over the fire, which flares up, lighting his face demonically. Sara, Dyson, Tarissa and John return from his office with more stuff -- files, notes, optical disks. Even his kids are carrying stuff. It all goes into the fire. Dyson drops the prototype processor onto the fire... his eyes hollow and distant. He stares into the fire, watching his world burning. Then has a sudden thought.¸ DYSON Do you know about the chip? SARA What chip? DYSON They have it in a vault at Cyberdyne... (to Terminator) It's gotta be from the other one like you. TERMINATOR (to Sara) The CPU from the first terminator. SARA Son of a bitch, I knew it! DYSON They told us not to ask where they got it. I thought... Japan... hell, I don't know. I didn't want to know. SARA Those lying motherfuckers! DYSON It was scary stuff, radically advanced. It was shattered... didn't work. But it gave us ideas. It took us in new directions... things we would never have thought of. All this work is based on it. TERMINATOR It must be destroyed. SARA (to Dyson) Can you get us in there, past security? DYSON I think so, yeah. When? Dyson looks at her, Terminator, then John. Sees his answer. DYSON Now? (he takes a breath) Yeah, right. He turns to his wife. Her face is streaked with tears, but her eyes are strong and clear. Tarissa puts her hands on his arm. She is stunned by what she's heard, but dealing with it. She believes them. TARISSA Miles, I'm scared. Okay. But the only thing that scares me more than you going... is you not going. He nods. She's right. SARA (to Terminator) Is it safe for them here? TERMINATOR (to Tarissa) Take your kids. Go to a hotel. Right now. Don't pack. (to the others) Let's go. Cut to: 138B ext. highway - night 138B* Pavement rushing at us, lit by headlights. Beyond, darkness. SARA (V.O.) The future, always so clear to me, had become like a black highway at night. We were in uncharted territory now... making up history as we went along. TILT UP to reveal a rectangle of light ahead. The Cyberdyne Building... 139 int. cyberdyne systems building/ lobby - night 139 TIGHT ON A CARD-KEY SCANNER as Dyson's hand zips his security card through the slot in one motion. There is the sound of a servo-lock, and -- DYSON enters the spacious lobby, followed by Sara, John, and Terminator last of all. In a frontal angle, the others block Terminator from view. THE GUARD at the front desk, GIBBONS, looks up as Dyson moves toward him. Dyson is pale and sweaty, but smiles warmly at the guard, speaking well before he reaches the desk. DYSON Evening, Paul. These are friends of mine from out of town, I just thought I'd take them up and show them around. GIBBONS I'm sorry, Mr. Dyson. You know the rules about visitors in the lab. I need written authoriz-- K-CHAK! Gibbons is staring down the barrels of Sara's .45 and Terminator's MAC 10. TERMINATOR I insist. The guard is too stunned to move. We see that Terminator is wearing his jacket and one black glove. Gibbons' eyes go to the silent alarm button on the console. SARA Don't even think about it. Gibbons nods. He stays frozen. Terminator circles quickly and gets the guard out of the chair. John pulls a roll of duct-tape from his knapsack and tears off a piece. 140 int. second floor corridor 140 ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN and Terminator leads the group warily into the corridor. They have a cart piled high with gear in nylon bags. Dyson motions down the corridor to the right. As they walk, he continues to fill them in-- DYSON The vault needs two keys to open. Mine... (holds up key) ...and one from the security station. One of the guards has it on a chain around his neck. Here we go. They stand in front of a wide security door. A sign above reads SPECIAL PROJECTS DIVISION: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Sara grabs Dyson in a headlock from behind and jams the muzzle of the .45 up against his temple. He doesn't flinch. They've talked about this. TERMINATOR Go. Dyson zips his key-card through the scanner and the door unlatches. 141 int. security station 141 The security station is a pass-through area with a counter, behind which are desks and a bank of monitors, showing boring movies about empty corridors. It's lunch-time for the graveyard shift. THREE GUARDS choke on their egg salad sandwiches as the door bangs open and Terminator charges into the security station with the MAC 10 leveled. Sara drags Dyson in like a hostage, causing them to hesitate that fateful moment. SARA FREEZE!! Don't make me say it twice. Terminator backhands the nearest guard into a file cabinet. The guy loses some teeth and slumps. John snatches the pistol from his holster and pockets it. Sara releases Dyson and spins the other two around... slamming them face-down over a desk. She kicks their legs apart, cop style. They are disarmed in seconds. John uses heavy-duty tie-wraps, cinched very tight, to bind their wrists. Terminator pushes them down to their knees. Sara notices Dyson's alarmed expression. SARA What? DYSON He's not here. (to the nearest guard) Where's the other guy? The fat guy? GUARD #1 Elkins? He went home sick. DYSON Shit. Did he leave the key? GUARD #1 What key? SARA The key to the vault, fuckface!! Where is it? GUARD #1 I don't know... I swear -- John nods almost imperceptibly to Terminator. The guard is slammed against the wall and lifted by his throat. Terminator's gloved hand tightens. The guy's face bulges, going red. John pulls at Terminator's arm, pretending to try pulling him away. He speaks earnestly to the choking guard. JOHN Open it, man. I'm not kidding around. I can't reason with this guy when he gets like this. I've seen him do things made the coroner puke. GUARD #1 (barely intelligible) Okay... okay... Terminator releases him. The guy coughs and looks defiantly at the other guards. GUARD #1 I ain't dyin' for a goddamn key. (to Sara et al) In there. He locked it in there. The guard nods toward a safe-like LOCKER on the wall. There is a key-card slot with a green light next to it. GUARD #1 Key-card's in my shirt pocket. John winks at Terminator and shoots him a THUMBS UP. The cyborg winks back, like he's been doing it all his life. 142 int. first floor corridor/ lobby 142 A ROVING GUARD, MOSHIER, strolls down the long corridor from the first-floor office block. A punch clock swings at his hip, and he's just completed his circuit of the building. He passes the bank of elevators and rounds the corner to the front desk, calling out -- MOSHIER Honey, I'm home... He sees the desk is deserted and frowns. Figures Gibbons must be in the can, so check that first before getting alarmed. TRACKING WITH HIM to the restroom around the corner. MOSHIER Hey, man, you shouldn't leave the -- OVER HIS SHOULDER we see past the door as he pushes it open, revealing Gibbons handcuffed to the urinal. Moshier spins on a dime and sprints to the desk where he slaps his hand down on the silent alarm button. 143 int. security station 143 Terminator's hand swishes the card repeatedly through the scanner slot on the locker. Nothing happens. The light on the locker is blinking red. SARA What? WHAT IS IT? Guard #2 motions toward a light flashing on the console. GUARD #2 Silent alarm's been tripped. It neutralizes the codes throughout the building. Nothing'll open now. Dyson takes that in, and we see his nerve snap. DYSON We should abort. SARA NO!! We're going all the way! You got that, Dyson? She's right in his face. Somehow, it works for him. He nods, getting some resolve from somewhere. 144 int. lobby 144 Moshier's gotten Gibbons loose. He's on the phone to the cops. GIBBONS ...multiple armed suspects. Look, I think it's the guy from that mall shootout, and the woman... yeah, her. Pretty sure. Just send everything you've got in the area -- 145 int. security station/ lab 145 John jumps up on a desk next to the wall-mounted locker. Dyson stares in amazement as John starts pulling his counter-electronics gear out of his knapsack. It's just another Insta-Teller to him. JOHN You guys get started on the lab... I can open this. Dyson leads Terminator and Sara to the main lab doors. Another servo lock. He tries his card. Nothing. TERMINATOR Let me try mine. He unslings the M-79, pulling it over his shoulder in one motion. Sara grabs Dyson and drags him back down the hall. Terminator opens the breech and slides in one of the fat 40mm H.E. grenades. He flips the thing closed with a snap of the wrist. SARA (yelling as she runs) John! Fire-in-the-hole! John drops what he's doing, and covers his ears. Terminator fires at inhumanly close range. The door EXPLODES into kindling. The concussion blows his jacket open, and flying shrapnel whizzes all around him. Before the thunderclap has faded Terminator walks into the fire and smoke. John goes back to work without missing a beat. Sara and a stunned Dyson walk through the burning doorframe into the Artificial Intelligence lab. A SIREN is sounding. The HALON FIRE-CONTROL SYSTEM has been triggered. The invisible gas roars in, putting out the flames. DYSON Fire's set off the halon system! Here... hurry! Dyson runs to a wall cabinet and pulls out some BREATHING MASKS. He hands one to Sara and dons the other. Then he reaches out to hand one to Terminator. DYSON Here! Terminator doesn't need a mask, since his oxygen requirements are so low. He ignores Dyson as he removes his massive back-pack and opens it. Dyson shrugs and tosses the mask on a desk. He turns to Sara. DYSON (yelling through the mask) We'll have to keep these on a couple minutes, till the gas clears. Terminator pulls two five gallon jerry-cans of gasoline from his pack. Sara starts pulling out book-sized, olive-drab CLAYMORE MINES, stacking them next to the gasoline. Dyson stares. Part of him can't believe they're really doing this. Cut to: 146 int. dyson house - night 146 The T-1000 moves slowly through the ravaged office, analyzing what has happened here. He walks down the dark hallway. The place is deserted. The police-walkie clipped on his belt (real, not simulated) blares to life. DISPATCHER (V.O.) All units, all units. 211 in progress at 2144 Kramer Street, the Cyberdyne building. Multiple suspects, armed with automatic weapons and explosives. SWAT unit is en route... 147 ext. house/ street 147 The T-1000 sprints up and throws his leg over the big C.H.P. Kawasaki. Fires it up. It smokes an arcing scorch-mark on the pavement as it spins around and roars away. Cut to: 148 int. cyberdyne building/ lab 148 TIGHT ON A LARGE DISK-DRIVE. State-of-the-art. Very expensive. A FIRE AXE smashes down through the housing, shattering the disk. WIDER, revealing a scene of high-tech pillage. Terminator beats the disk drive into junk and steps to another. WHAM. Same routine. He's already demolished half a dozen. Sara topples a files cabinet, scattering the files. Dyson staggers up with an armload of heavy M-O (magnetic-optical) disks and drops them on a growing stack in the middle of the floor. He and Sara have their breathing masks hanging down around their necks, since the halon gas has dissipated. DYSON (to Sara, panting) Yeah, all that stuff! And all the disks in those offices. Especially my office... everything in my office! (to Terminator) These, too! This is important. (SMASH!) And all this here... that's it. Sara goes into Dysons office and starts hurling everything out the door onto the central junkpile... books, files, everything on the desk. A FRAMED PHOTO of Dyson's wife and kids lands on top of the heap. Tarissa, hugging Danny and Blythe, all grinning. The glass is shattered. Terminator cuts a swath, under Dyson's direction, exploding equipment into fragments with his inhuman swings. SMASH! It's carnage. Millions in hardware, and all the irreplaceable fruits of their years of research... shattered, broken, dumped in a heap for the big bonfire of destiny. Dyson stops a second, panting. DYSON Give me that thing a second. Terminator hands him the axe. Dyson hefts it one-handed. He turns to a lab table... on it is another prototype processor. DYSON I've worked for years on this stuff. Swinging awkwardly but with great force he smashes the axe down onto the processor prototype, exploding it into fragments. His shoulder is agony, but he looks satisfied. 149 int. second floor security station 149 John taps away at his little lap-top, which is running code-combinations into the card-key lock. Suddenly, the green light on the locker goes on and it unlocks with a clunk. JOHN Easy money. He whips it open, revealing a rack of keys. But the VAULT-KEY is distinctive, a long steel rectangle on a neck-chain. John grabs it and runs toward the lab. 150 int. lab 150 Sara and Terminator are working like a crack team, rigging the explosives. She is taping the claymores to the gas-cans with duct-tape to create powerful incendiary bombs. Terminator is attaching claymores and blocks of C-4 plastic explosive to the large MAINFRAME COMPUTER cabinets nearby. All the claymores are wired back to one detonator which has a RADIO CONTROL RELAY switch. DYSON How do you set them off? Terminator shows him a REMOTE DETONATOR, a small transmitter with a red plunger. TERMINATOR Radio remote. He makes a plunger-pushing motion with his thumb and an accompanying "click" sound. Dyson nods. Just then John comes running in, holding up the key. JOHN I got it. Piece a cake. SARA (to Dyson and Terminator) Go! I'll finish here. They run out as the SOUND OF SIRENS grows louder outside. 151 ext. cyberdyne building 151 The security duo of Moshier and Gibbons cowers behind cars in the parking lot in front of the building. They turn as L.A.P.D. BLACK-AND-WHITES pour into the lot, turning the area into a disco of whirling blue and red lights. 152 int. second floor security station/ stairs 152 John and Dyson sprint through the security station, heading for the vault. Terminator herds the three guards to the stairwell, pushing them through the door. With their wrists bound, they stumble down the stairs. Terminator FIRES A BURST from the MAC 10 over their heads, showering them with plaster dust. Their feet fly as they clatter down the steps. TERMINATOR Later, dickwads. 153 ext. cyberdyne building 153 The cops are jumping from their cars and ducking behind them. Emphasis on small arms here. They react to the sound of automatic weapon fire inside the building. Behind them an ugly BLACK S.W.A.T. VAN screeches into the lot. We hear the THUMP OF ROTORS as a POLICE CHOPPER arrives and swings in close to the building. It rakes its XENON SPOTLIGHT through the second floor offices. 154 int./ext. second floor office 154 Terminator crosses the office toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. He is outlined starkly by the spotlight as it rakes through the dark offices. Without breaking stride he kicks an executive desk toward the window. Glass explodes outward and the desk topples, falling to the sidewalk below. Terminator, standing at the edge, FIRES A LONG BURST which strafes the police cars lined up below. Cops duck as glass flies. Terminator, with his superb aim, hits no one. But notice is served. The cops (surprise) FIRE BACK. Terminator turns and is walking calmly from the windows as glass, office furniture, drapes etc. are riddled by return fire. A few rounds hit his back, but he doesn't notice. He reloads as he walks. 155 int. vault antechamber 155 TIGHT ON A KEY inserted into one of the vault locks. WIDER as John and Dyson stand poised, hands on keys. JOHN And let's see what's behind door number one. Dyson nods and they turn the keys together. The vault grumbles to itself, withdrawing its locking bolts with a final KLONK! Together Dyson and John swing the door open. 156 ext./ int. lobby 156 The varsity takes the field as the SWAT TROOPERS sprint forward by squads. They flank the lobby and work their way inside, deploying rapidly. They move and freeze, behind cover, quivering with adrenalin. They have all that great SWAT equipment: body armor, gas-masks, M-16s, tear-gas launchers, ropes. The works. They make a lot of hand signals and keep their mouths shut. They're well-trained and deadly. OUTSIDE we see cops firing TEAR GAS grenades through the broken windows into second floor offices. 158 int. vault 158 John and Dyson are isolated from the world in this silent steel womb. Dyson opens the cabinet containing the terminator relics. It's John's turn to stare with uneasy dj-vu as he sees the terminator hand and CPU. Then in one vicious move he sweeps his arm behind the inert-gas flasks and hurls them to the floor. They SHATTER. John snatches the CPU and the metal hand out of the broken glass. JOHN Got ol' Skynet by the balls now, Miles. Come on, let's book! Clutching the steel hand and pocketing the chip like it's a Mars bar he just bought, John runs out. Dyson follows. 159 int. first floor corridor/ stairwell 159 We see the advance squad of SWATs make it to one of the stairwells. They start up, two at a time, covering each other ritualistically by the numbers. 160 int. lab/ hall 160 John pelts into the lab with Dyson stumbling along behind him. Sara has just finished wiring all the charges to the central detonator. JOHN Ready to rock? SARA Ready. John tosses her the metal hand. She catches it and bends to put the hand in her empty back-pack. Sara zips the pack and starts to shuck into it. Dyson's running out of steam. The bandages at his shoulder are soaked with seeping blood. He stands in the middle of the lab, saying goodbye in his mind, looking weak and empty. Terminator strides into the lab. TERMINATOR Time to go. Right now. He and John head back the way they came, through security. Sara sees that in her work, she has set the detonator down twenty feet away, near where Dyson is standing.¸ SARA Dyson, hand me the detonator. Let's go -- He gingerly picks up the detonator. Starts toward her. Then -- CRASH!! THE DOORS AT THE BACK OF THE LAB ARE KICKED OPEN. SWAT LEADER and two others OPEN FIRE. Their M-16s rake the room. Sara dives behind a computer cabinet. Dyson is HIT. He is slammed to the floor by the impacts. IN THE HALL, John heres (hears) the firing and spins to run back. JOHN Mommm!!! Terminator grabs him as bullets slam into his broad back. He makes it around the corner with John, out of the line of fire. IN THE LAB, bullets rake over Sara's head, smacking all around her, clanging into the machine protecting her. She can see Dyson, slumped on the floor. Debris and flying glass rain on her as the SWATs pour on the fire. The detonator is clutched in his hand. He rolls to face her, his eyes bulging from the pain of his torn-up guts. DYSON Go. Sara hesitates a split second. Then she snap-rolls and fast-crawls through broken glass and debris into the hall where -- TERMINATOR grabs her by the jacket and hauls her roughly to her feet. Bullets rake the walls behind them as they sprint forward. They round the corner. John does a fast take that she's not hit and they run together through the security checkpoint. 163 INT. security station/ CORRIDOR 163 John reaches the door first, and tries it. Locked. Terminator unslings the M-78 Blooper smoothly, opening the breech. TERMINATOR Get back. He pulls a grenade from the bandolier over his shoulder, and slides it into the bore. Flicks his wrist. The breech snaps shut. Sara and John have a split second to duck and cover. TERMINATOR Cover your ears and open your mouth. They do. KABOOM!!! Twenty feet away the door, and half the wall around it, EXPLODES outward. The backblast hits Terminator full force, but he strides through the smoking hole before the debris has even hit the floor. 164 int. corridor 164 Terminator leads John and Sara down the dark corridor. Tear gas seeps under office doors and hangs in the air. They start to cough. She pulls off her breathing mask and hands it to him. Terminator strides ahead of them. He reloads the blooper as he walks. Up ahead is another security door. He closes the breech with a wrist-snap and fires one-handed. KABOOM!! The door vanishes in a FLASH-THUNDERCLAP. Plaster chunks and burning debris shower around him. He doesn't flinch or slow down. They enter another corridor. Terminator reloads the grenade launcher. 165 int. lab 165 SWAT LEADER moves cautiously through the lab. Cat-stepping, he circles around a desk which blocks Dyson's body from his view. His M-16 is levelled crisply. We look over his shoulder as he rounds the desk, revealing-- MILES DYSON is not dead. He will be very soon, but at this moment he is conscious. He has propped himself up against the desk, and holds a BOOK in one hand. A heavy, technical manual. Below the book is the detonator, upright on the tile floor. The message is clear. "Shoot me, the book drops on the plunger. Adios." Dyson wheezes, trying to draw enough breath to talk. DYSON I don't know... how much longer... I can... hold this thing... SWAT leader seems to see the wires, the claymores, the gas cans all around him for the first time. His eyes, visible through his gas-mask, go very wide. He spins and motions his squad back. LEADER Fall back!! Everybody out! Move it! OUT NOW! They retreat so fast they crash into the next group coming up the stairs. 166 int. corridor 166 Terminator reaches the main elevators. Hits the button. Sara and John are coughing and stumbling in the choking darkness, buddy-breathing with the single mask. The doors open. They get in the elevator and head down. 167 int. lab 167 Dyson is lying amid the ruins of his dream. Sprawled on the floor, he has his back propped up against the desk. He is bathed in his own blood, which runs out in long fingers across the tiles. His breathing is shallow and raspy. He still holds the book, trembling, above the switch. In his lap is the picture from his desk. He has pulled it from the debris next to him. A tear trickles from his eye. His wife and children smile up at him through broken glass. DYSON'S POV -- He see's only the picture. WE PUSH IN SLOWLY. The sounds from outside are fading... megaphones, the helicopter, distant sirens, all become fainter... replaced by a ROARING SOUND which swells as the image of the picture grows dark. Darker and darker, the blackness rushing at us now with the sound of thunder. It gets louder, and LOUDER. Like a black train pounding at us, only it is a roiling cloud of red and black... blood-red fire boiling up through a cloud-mass black as iron. It is th¸ e cloud-column of a hydrogen bomb, FILLING FRAME, shaking our senses with its power. And then -- It begins to recede. The thunder rolls away, dying into a wind which is like the last winds of a great storm, ebbing into a soothing breeze as the iron clouds swirl away, giving way to an image of gauzy light. As if behind a soft veil we see-- Danny and Blythe running toward us, laughing, in slow motion. Tarissa is behind them, smiling. They are in bright sunlight, an image of motion and life, a slice of memory so vivid and precious a man needs only this to face eternity. We see their hair blown by the wind, the wind which blows through history now, changing it... We tilt up into a pure blue sky until the sun comes into frame, spearing straight into the lens with pure light and we... CUT TO THE PUPIL OF HIS EYE, the sun becoming a glint of light in that pupil, as we do a SNAP-PULLBACK to see Miles Dyson at the moment of death. His face is almost blank, his gaze fixed, seeing what we cannot see, seeing a future which is changed... there is the faintest hint of a smile, the instant the light fades from his eyes and he is gone -- His arm drops and the book hits the switch -- 170 ext. building 170 As the face of the building EXPLODES in an eruption of glass and fire. Remains of the second-floor windows shower the parking lot and a huge fireball rolls out, leaping into the sky. The cops look up, stunned. The helicopter banks away from the heat. Burning debris falls among the cop cars and a number of officers break ranks, pulling back. ONLY ONE OF THEM seems to be moving with purpose. A BIKE COP who has just arrived drives through the disorganized crowd, directly toward the building. T-1000 guns the bike up a ramp to a pedestrian bridge which crosses from a parking structure to the Cyberdyne building. It enters on the second floor, which is now a burning maze. 172 int. second floor/ office/ corridor 172 T-1000 drives into the smoky wreckage. It draws a Heckler and Koch MPK machine pistol and cruises slowly into the firelit offices, scanning. IN THE CORRIDOR the bike skirts flaming wreckage as it idles forward. T-1000 scans the leaping shadows for its prey. 173 int. ground floor/ elevator/ lobby 173 The elevator doors part and Terminator eases a look out into the corridor. The walls on either side of him ERUPT WITH BULLET HITS. The SWATs have the lobby end of the corridor blocked off. They're totally trapped, cut off and screwed. JOHN (to Sara) Don't forget. It's always darkest right before... you're totally fucked. The SWATs fire a tear-gas grenade toward the elevators. It spews the vicious CS gas out in a swirling cloud which envelopes Sara and John, who are pressed against the back-wall of the elevator. TERMINATOR Keep your eyes closed. Don't move. (they nod, eyes squeezed shut) I'll be back. He slings the grenade launcher over his shoulder and walks out into the corridor. BLAM. A tear-gas grenade ricochets from wall to wall as it flies down the corridor. It skids to rest in front of Terminator, throwing out a white cloud which quickly fills the corridor. In the elevator, Sara and John are choking, handing the breathing mask back and forth desperately. They're scared. This looks like it. ANGLE ON THE SWAT TEAM, gripping their weapons at the mouth of the corridor. They watch the boiling cloud, waiting. THEIR POV -- on the wall of boiling smoke. A FIGURE APPEARS. Walking calmly. Totally unaffected. Terminator emerges from the smoke. Not even misty-eyed. Not what they expected. LEADER (through megaphone) Stop where you are. Lie down on the floor, face down. Down on the floor, now! He continues to stride toward them. The SWATs tense up. They've never seen anything like this. They're not sure what to do. Closer and closer. LEADER Drop him. They OPEN FIRE. The corridor is filled with CRACKING THUNDER. The rounds tear into Terminator's chest. Stomach. Face. Thighs. His leather jacket leaps and jerks as the rounds hit him. The SWAT's think the guy's wearing body armor or something. They keep firing. The rounds tear into him, staggering him slightly, but he keeps coming. LEADER You're not hitting him! SWAT #1 (getting scared) Yes I am! Terminator draws his .45 smoothly. Unhurried. He shoots the nearest man in the left thigh. As he screams and drops, Terminator shoots him in the right thigh. Terminator bends down and picks up the shrieking man's weapon... the TEAR-GAS LAUNCHER. It is one of those new rotary jobs that holds 12 rounds in a big drum. Terminator shoots the next SWAT square in the chest with the tear-gas launcher. The gas canister hits the guy's body armor and doesn't penetrate. But it's like getting slugged in the stomach with a full-swing from a baseball bat. The SWAT folds double and hits the tiles, gasping. Terminator is an image from Hell, a tall figure in shredded black leather, streaked with blood. One eye is a bloody socket, the metal eye-servos glinting. The flesh of one cheek hangs down in tatters, revealing the chrome cheekbone beneath. The whole front of his jacket is blown open, revealing his metal chest armor.¸ The remaining SWATs start to fall back. One turns to run and -- KPOW! A gas canister nails him in the back, sending him sprawling. Terminator fires three gas grenades into the lobby. It fills rapidly with the white gas, cutting the visibility to a few feet. It is total pandemonium. SWAT LEADER crouches in the fog, white-knuckling his rifle. Terminator looms suddenly out of the mist right in front of him. POOM! Terminator drills him in the leg with the .45. As the guy screams and drops rifle to clutch his leg, Terminator rips his gas mask off. The SWAT leader drops writhing to the floor, choking and gagging, clutching his bleeding thigh. Terminator walks up to two SWATs at the front doors. POW-POW. Leg and leg. He snatches off their masks as they fall. The gunfire has stopped. Nobody can see anything. Screams and whimpers echo in the smoke. 174 ext. building 174 Smoke boils out the front door as a figure emerges. Firing the tear-gas launcher with one hand, Terminator launches all remaining rounds among the cop vehicles. Unprotected officers run, choking and half-blind, slamming into cars and tripping over each other. It is a total route. AT THE SWAT VAN one of the SWATs is rapidly handing out the remaining masks to unprotected cops. A FIGURE appears out of the smoke beside him. He looks up. His mask is ripped off and he is handed the empty launcher. Instinctively he catches it. Terminator grabs his flak vest with one hand and sails him out into the mist. 175A int. swat van 175A Terminator strides the length of the van and climbs into the driver's seat. No keys in the ignition. He flips down the sun visor. The keys fall into his hand. He starts the van and slams it into gear. 176 int. / ext. lobby 176 The tear gas has cleared to a thin haze. The uninjured SWATs are tending their wounded. They look up at the sound of shouts and a roaring engine. THE SWAT VAN CRASHES INTO THE LOBBY in an explosion of glass and debris. Cops scatter as the van screeches across the lobby in a smoking one-eighty, sliding to a stop across the corridor which leads to the bank of elevators. Terminator backs up until -- crunch -- he seals the corridor with the back of the van. Sara and John stumble along the corridor, coughing. They leap into the back of the van and Terminator hits the throttle. The van roars across the lobby and exits through blown-out windows. Cut to: 177 int. / ext. second floor 177 T-1000, astride the Kawasaki, looks down from a second-floor office and sees the van tearing away across the parking lot with the remaining cops firing at it. It knows. It looks around. Analyzing options. It sees the helicopter hovering outside the building at the end of this corner¸ office block... It twists full throttle on the powerful bike. Roars through the office, accelerating fast, straight at the windows -- T-1000 BLASTS OUT THROUGH THE GLASS, airborne on the motorcycle. It rockets across the gap to the hovering chopper and -- SLAMS into the canopy. The impact of bike and rider pitches the chopper radically. The startled PILOT fights to regain control as the bike tumbles to the pavement below. The T-1000 doesn't. It clings to the shattered canopy. Nightmarishly, the pilot watches as the T-1000 smashes its head through the plexiglas canopy and rapidly POURS ITSELF through the jagged hole. It reforms instantly into its previous self on the passenger seat. It hurls the pilot out of the chopper and slides into the driver's seat. The chopper is auto-rotating, spinning out of control. It drops toward the parking lot. T-1000 recovers control ten feet above the ground. Cops hit the deck as the tail-boom swings around, going over them by inches. The chopper lifts out in a power climb, roaring away across the parking lot toward the fleeing SWAT van. OKAY, BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS, HERE IT COMES... 179 int. / ext. swat van/ highway - night 179 Terminator looks back at his two passengers as he turns the boxy van onto a divided highway. Sara and John are catching their breath, still coughing from the CS gas. Terminator looks to the rearview mirror. He sees the xenon searchlight of the chopper behind them, gaining. Sara looks around the inside of the SWAT van. It is a rolling armory. There are rifles, ballistic vests, all manner of equipment. SARA John, get under these. Hurry! He sits against the front bulkhead of the van and she piles bullet-proof vests on top of him, completely covering him. Then she grabs two M-16s from the wall-rack and loads them. She starts on a shotgun as -- The SWAT van weaves through sparse traffic at high speed. Terminator slews the unstable van around cars and trucks which seem to be crawling. The van hits its top speed of 80. They swerve to miss the back end of A WHITE 18-WHEEL TANKER. The chopper swings in behind them, closing fast. T-1000 reaches through the shattered canopy with the MPK machine pistol and FIRES. The back of the van CLANGS WITH HITS. The door windows are BLOWN IN. Terminator weaves the van, trying to throw off the T-1000's aim. The unstable vehicle screeches and wobbles on the edge of control. One of the doors is kicked open. Sara, wearing a ballistic vest, crouches in the doorway, whipping up the M-16. SHE OPENS FIRE. Bullets riddle what's left of the chopper's canopy as the T-1000 returns fire. The van is stitched with hits. INSIDE THE VAN holes are punched through the thin sheet-metal walls, ripping up the interior. The vests covering John are hit repeatedly. We see that Sara has hung two Kevlar vests on the inside of the back door and she ducks behind these as bullets hit around her. She pops back out and fires in controlled bursts. The M-16 empties and she grabs another. Terminator serves around a car which is changing lanes, hitting it and knocking it skidding. 181 OMITTED 181 Sara reloads and keeps firing. The van swerves around a Toyota. A moment later the helicopter passes it, the rotor just clearing the top of the car. T-1000 FIRES the machine pistol. Sara has popped out to fire. She takes a HIT in the thigh, and several rounds hammer into her Kevlar vest. She is thrown back onto the floor of the van. She lies there, an exposed target -- Terminator sees the T-1000 preparing to fire again. He locks up the van's brakes. Tires scream as the vehicle shimmies. Sara is thrown forward, sliding up to the bulkhead next to John. And the helicopter SLAMS RIGHT INTO THE BACK OF THE VAN. The rotor disintegrates. The back doors of the van are crushed in as the canopy, the whole front of the fuselage is HAMMERED INTO JUNK, trapping the T-1000 inside twisted metal. The chopper hits the pavement, flips sideways, and cartwheels... smashing itself into a shapeless mass of twisted metal. It falls away behind the van, tumbling end over end. Terminator fights to control the van, which is fishtailing violently from the impact. It smashes up against the center divider, screeching along the concrete, and then pulls away. Terminator puts the hammer down and the van accelerates. He swerves to avoid an UGLY PICKUP crawling like a snail ahead. THE RIGHT FRONT FENDER of the van, crumpled by slamming the wall, is sawing into the tire. The tire blows and peels clean off the rim. The steel wheel grinds across the pavement, striking trails of sparks, and the van slides sideways and topples -- STEEL SCREAMS on pavement as the van grinds to a stop on its side. INSIDE THE VAN, John crawls to Sara, who is groaning and holding her bleeding leg. She is white and shocky. Terminator starts to extricate himself from the crumpled driver's seat. BACK DOWN THE ROAD, THE HELICOPTER wreckage is a crumpled ball of junk metal, unrecognizable. Behind it, the TANKER TRUCK brakes hard, shuddering and groaning, trying to stop. The big tires lock up in clouds of tire-smoke. The rig comes to a shuddering stop just short of the wrecked chopper. The shaken DRIVER jumps down. From behind the wreckage a cop emerges, walking toward him. DRIVER Goddamn, are you alri--- SSSSHHCK! T-1000 drives a blade through the man's abdomen and walks on past without slowing, or even looking at him. It climbs into the open cab of the tanker. Releases the brake. As the truck bellows and rolls forward we see the large blue letters on the side which say "CRYOCO INC. LIQUID NITROGEN SUPPLY". AT THE SWAT VAN John and Terminator are carrying Sara out of the wreck. Terminator has the M-79 slung over his shoulder, the bandolier of grenades, and his .45 stuck in his waistband. John has borrowed a 12 GAUGE RIOT GUN from the SWATs. The pickup they passed seconds earlier pulls up to them. The DRIVER, a Hispanic guy in his 50's, is getting out to help them. Terminator and John 185 hear a CRASH and look back as the helicopter wreckage is knocked aside by the accelerating tanker truck. JOHN Holy shit. Come on, Mom... we gotta keep moving... come on -- TERMINATOR (to the pickup owner) We need your truck. The guy seems to know better than to try and stop him as Terminator slides Sara into the front seat and climbs behind the wheel. John runs to the passenger side. THE TANKER ROARS, spewing smoke from its chrome stacks as it shifts up through the gears. Terminator slams the pickup in gear, checking the rear-view. The tanker is a hundred feet behind them now, and really moving. Terminator puts the throttle down, but the pickup is an old slug loaded down by a heavy home-made wooden camper-shell. It accelerates slowly. THE TANKER slams into one end of the Swat van, spinning it out of the way with a roar and screech of twisting metal. The 18-wheeler shifts to a higher gear, still accelerating. 190 int. / ext. pickup truck 190 With the tanker right behind them, Terminator cuts the wheel, swerving the pickup back and forth across the lanes. The big rig stays right on them, its tanker whiplashing violently. JOHN Faster! He's right on us! Terminator doesn't reply. He rapidly unslings the blooper, still around his neck, and reaches for a grenade. LOW ANGLE ON THE TRACTOR TRAILER as it roars right up to the lens, filling frame with chrome and lights. K-WHAM!! It rams the back of the pickup, sending it skidding. Then the T-1000 pulls the tractor trailer up alongside the pickup and crabs over, sandwiching it against the center divider. The spinning chrome hubs tear into the passenger side door and the guard rail screeches along the other side. The pickup bucks and shakes insanely. It ricochets violently between the big-rig and the divider. Horrible SCREECH of tortured steel. Sparks pour in sheets of fire from both sides. The windshield shatters as the door-posts buckle in. Metal and glass shower in through the side windows. The frame twists and buckles. John feels like the fillings are being shaken right out of his teeth. The wooden camper disintegrates, falling away as kindling behind them. 191C int. tanker cab 191C T-1000 holds the wheel hard over, mercilessly grinding the pickup. The whole rig jerks and shakes with the violence of the sustained hammering. 191D int. / ext. pickup 191D Terminator slides toward the passenger side. Keeping his foot on the gas he lifts John over him and puts him in the driver's seat. TERMINATOR Drive for a minute. JOHN Where you going?! Terminator slams the shattered windshield with the palm of his hand. Held together by the plastic laminate, the windshield flops out of its frame. It flies back over the top of the truck. Terminator pushes his upper body out over the dashboard and stands up. He turns and aims the M-79 one-handed. POOM! The grenade misses the T-1000 by less than a foot. It EXPLODES 191F against the front bulkhead of the tanker, almost at the top. Liquid nitrogen pours from the opening, swept back by the 60 mph windstream. The big-rig swerves as T-1000 regains control. The tanker swings like a pendulum behind the cab. The pickup accelerates, getting back out in front by a few yards. Behind it the big-rig is trailing a swirling comet-tail of nitrogen vapor. It is gaining again. Terminator, still standing, opens the breech and starts to reload. John cuts across the highway and takes an OFF RAMP. T-1000 swerves the smoking behemoth across the lanes and down the ramp after them, still accelerating. It is twenty feet behind them and closing when Terminator closes the breech and FIRES. The grenade hits the front grill and EXPLODES. The radiator is destroyed, along with half the hood. Steam blasts out, obscuring the whole front of the truck. The semi rams the back of the pickup again. Spewing smoke and vapor like some demon locomotive, the tractor-trailer pounds into the back of the pickup. Driving it right through the intersection at the bottom of the ramp, and straight toward-- ext. steel mill The chase has led them to an area of heavy industry. The GATES are blasted off their hinges as the semi rams the pickup right through them. Terminator struggles to reload amid the chaos and impacts. He has THREE GRENADES LEFT on the bandolier. John isn't even steering. They are just being pushed. There's nothing he can do. They are rocketing down the broad thoroughfare which leads directly to the MAIN BUILDING of the plant. Terminator pulls himself onto the roof of the pickup. He leaps to the bed, takes two powerful strides and -- Leaps onto the semi. He climbs rapidly onto hood. And FIRES POINT BLANK THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD. Right into T-1000's face. The EXPLOSION blows out all the glass and fills the cab with smoke and fire. Terminator grabs onto the air-horn as the truck starts to SHUDDER AND SCREAM. IT IS JACK-KNIFING. Almost dream-slow the cab begins to swing sideways, until its tires are shrieking over the pavement. The tractor is smashed back at right-angles to the tanker-trailer which begins to slide broadside. The juggernaut bucks and shudders as the tires are smoke sideways across the pavement. It begins to topple. Terminator holds on as the side of the cab becomes the top. With an unholy scream, like the unoiled hubs of Hell, the whole rig slides on its side at 60 mph toward the steel mill. A sheet of sparks sixty feet wide trails behind it on the pavement. John sees what's behind him, then snaps around to see the building looming right in front. The huge rolling doors are partly open. No choice. He steers right through them into the mill, as -- Terminator, with one second to go, leaps from the cab -- He flies through the open doors as -- The tanker hits the building and -- 193 int. steel mill / main aisle 193 Terminator slams to the floor of the mill and rolls, as -- The tanker-trailer smashes into a massive concrete support at one side of the doors. Thunderous carnage of twisting metal. It splits wide open. A river of liquid nitrogen pours out at -230. John hits the brakes, sliding out of control. He slows almost to a stop but hits a steel support column head-on. He and Sara are slammed forward, hard. Terminator, still clutching the M-79 blooper, rolls and slides across the floor. He smashes through a railing and slams up against the base of a massive machine. The semi cab swings about the trailer wreckage, into the building, and 193D shudders to a stop. Liquid nitrogen sprays over the cab, flooding out around it in a HISSING WAVEFRONT OF ULTRACOLD. Freezing vapor swirls everywhere, obscuring the wreck. TERMINATOR lies still. A beat. Then he rolls weakly, rising on one elbow to survey the scene. IN THE WRECKED PICKUP, John stirs. He is stunned, and blood runs from his nose. Dazed, he realizes he is in a steel mill. There are sirens, and he can see men running... shouting. He turns and sees what they are running from... The wall of nitrogen vapor spreads from the demolished tanker. It is a strange vista of fire and ice. The huge SMELTERS pour out orange light and fire from the sides of the huge gallery, while the freezing vapor rolls down the center. TIGHT ON THE WRECK. A billowing gray cloud. Deep inside, the shape of the cab is visible. A FIGURE emerges, pulling itself out. It drops to the floor. The hissing, boiling river of liquid nitrogen flows around its feet. The T-1000 staggers, moving slowly, painfully. It has finally been affected by something. Its feet are freezing to the ground as it walks... CLINK! One of its feet breaks off at a glassy ankle. It stumbles forward, and -- Its other foot snaps off. As it catches its balance on the stump of its other ankle, the whole lower leg shatters at the impact. It topples forward to its knees. Catches itself on one hand. Liquid nitrogen flows around the hand. Now the hand is stuck to the pavement. The T-1000 pulls and... CLINK! The hand snaps off at the wrist. It looks stupidly at the glassy stump of a wrist. For the first time we see an expression on its face we know to be a true one... The expression is pain. Agony. Its mouth opens in a soundless scream as the hoar-frost races up its legs, across its body. And that's the position it freezes in. It has become a statue, kneeling in the frozen vapor, that surprised look of agony frozen on its face. The liquid nitrogen stops flowing and begins to evaporate. Terminator, just beyond the boundary of the cold, can see the T-1000 clearly. He draws his .45 and aims. TERMINATOR Hasta la vista, baby. K-POW! The single shot blows the T-1000 into a million diamonds spraying up into the air. They shimmer across the ground for twenty feet in all directions. Terminator lowers the gun, satisfied. He looks like he needs a vacation. JOHN AND SARA have seen it from the pickup. She is in bad shape. Conscious but very weak. He tries the door. It's jammed. He kicks it open. JOHN Okay, Mom, we gotta get out now, come on. That's it. He helps her slide down from the seat of the truck. Her knees give way. John has to take a lot of her weight. He reaches in and picks up the riot gun off the seat. They hobble toward the -- TERMINATOR. On his knees, he looks into the dissipating cloud of vapor. The heat of the furnaces has evaporated all the liquid nitrogen. INSERT, TIGHT ON THE FLOOR -- the T-1000 shards are melting, liquefying. Hundreds of drops of mercury, spattered across the floor. Orange light of the enormous blast-furnaces dances on liquid metal. TERMINATOR struggles to rise. One arm is shattered, the hand smashed and nearly useless. And some leg-servos are damaged. He can barely stand. John and Sara arrive. TERMINATOR We don't have much time. JOHN What? Terminator points. John and Sara watch as -- INSERT, T-1000 DROPLETS are creeping together. Fusing into larger blobs. These pools shiver and run together, soon forming a central mass. ON JOHN AND SARA, realizing it's not over. JOHN Come on! Let's go! Terminator gets one of Sara's arms over his shoulder and they go. BEHIND THEM, something is moving. A HEAD is forming up out of a pool of mercury. It rises, as shoulders form, hunching up from the liquid mass. Half formed, it turns to look straight at them. John looks back in new terror as -- The T-1000 rises to man-height. It is still the mercury form, but its features are forming rapidly. It takes its first step after them. Sara stumbles and they pull her up. Terminator himself has a pronounced limp, dragging one leg with a shattered ankle joint. John's the one pulling, straining, driving them forward. They round a corner into -- 202 int. aisle between furnaces 202 It is a maze of monstrous machinery. The heat is tremendous. The air shivers with a pounding roar. Sara cries out in pain and stumbles again. JOHN Come on, mom, you can do it! Come on!! They drag her up, and stagger on. Her leg is bathed in blood and she is deathly pale. He looks back. 203 int. main gallery 203 The T-1000 steps INTO FRAME. Fully formed. The hell-fire light glints on its impassive cop face. It walks forward. At first it seems unaffected by its crystallization but-- ANGLE ON ITS hand as it touches a railing in passing. The railing is covered with O.S.H.A. yellow-and-black safety tape. The hand turns yellow and black, the color fading to normal by about the elbow. It rips the hand from the railing with difficulty. There is a sound like adhesive tape ripping off a surface. The T-1000 looks at its yellow and black striped hand. It wills the hand back to normal. We see ripples of "static" or system noise moving subtly over the surface of its body. It's starting to "glitch". TRACKING WITH THE T-1000'S FEET. With each step, the pattern of the tile floor "invades" its lower legs. Fades as the foot is lifted. Returns as it is set down. The foot is trying to meld with the floor. The chameleonic function is out of control. The T-1000 is losing it. It moves forward searching. It rounds the corner, entering the aisle between the furnaces. 204 int. aisle 204 Terminator sees the SILHOUETTE closing on them through the smoky gloom. The T-1000 breaks into a loping run when it sees them. Terminator turns Sara over to John. TERMINATOR Keep going. John shakes his head, no. The T-1000 is almost on them. TERMINATOR RUN! John runs, dragging, half-carrying Sara as best he can. She can barely stay conscious. Half-running, delirious, she stumbles and drops to her knees. John pulls but she can't rise. JOHN (crying, shouting) Come on, you gotta try... please, mom. Get up! John looks back to see -- TERMINATOR trying to load the M-79. With his shattered hand, he can barely maneuver his last grenade into the breech. T-1000 smacks the weapon out of his hands. It clatters to the floor. The grenade spins across the floor, rolling under some machinery. Terminator lunges, slamming the T-1000 against a wall with all his weight. The battle is joined. JOHN AND SARA have reached the back of the aisle. It is a cul-de-sac, blocked on the end by the base of an IMMENSE SMELTER CRUCIBLE. They turn to watch the titans battle in silhouette, backlit by the molten sparks falling from the furnaces above. The battle which will decide their fate. Terminator grabs the T-1000 and hurls it with awesome force against the opposite wall of the narrow alley. In less time than it would take to turn, the T-1000 morphs through itself, from front to back... face emerging from the back of its head. It comes off the wall straight at Terminator, who smashes his good fist into its face. The pile-driver blow buries Terminator's fist almost to the elbow. But the T-1000's head morphs in a split-second into a hand which grips Terminator's wrist, and the head "emerges" somewhere else, the geometry shifting faster than we can follow. The T-1000 slams Terminator into a large machine, jamming his arm into the moving works. A massive sliding bar SCISSORS HIS ARM, smashing it into junk at the elbow, pinning him in the machine. Terminator strains against the machine pinning him. We hear his servos whining with overload. The T-1000 turns and lopes toward Sara and John. Sara screams and hurls John into a gap between the machines. He falls into a maze of pipes and girders. 205 int. maze of machines 205 JOHN turns to see her in the entrance of the narrow gap. She could follow him but she doesn't. SUDDENLY a dark mass moves toward him. John gasps as a huge steel counterweight, driven by a chain 6 inches thick, slides toward him. He rolls out of its way. When he looks back, he cannot see the opening. JOHN Mom! MOMMM!! 206 int. aisle between furnaces 206 TERMINATOR strains to reach a 6-foot steel bar lying near him. Steel workers use them to move the red-hot ingots around. He gets hold of the end and uses it as a lever. With titanic effort he spreads the massive components which are holding him, and withdraws his arm, which is severed at the elbow. Dangling junk hangs from the crushed joint. SARA has lost sight of John. It is as much of a goodbye as they will have. She turns as the T-1000 closes on her. She is half-slumped against the sooty machines, looking barely conscious. She struggles to load a shell into the empty weapon. At the last instant she whips up the RIOT GUN and FIRES. 207A OMITTED 207A 207B OMITTED 207B T-1000's face is blown open, but quickly reforms as it closes on her. She fumbles to get another shell into the magazine but -- THUNK! A steel needle slams through her shoulder, pinning her. The polymorphic killer cocks back its other hand. The index finger extends as a gleaming needle, toward her eye... T-1000 Call to John. Now. WHAM!! SOMETHING whistles down on the T-1000 with such force that it cleaves its head and body in two down to the navel. The 6-foot steel bar is imbedded in its body. Terminator hurls the killer off Sara. The T-1000 pulls the steel shaft out of itself and attacks him with fury. Swinging again and again. Hammering Terminator back. Terminator falls back against the wall. Behind the T-1000 is an enormous I-beam, hanging from two chains. It is used to lift ingots into the smelters, and it runs on a linear track. The T-1000 grabs the I-beam and rolls it down the track. Straight at Terminator. The two-ton girder smashes into his chest, crushing the armor. The T-1000 pulls the I-beam back, and then heaves it forward again. Terminator turns and takes the second blow on the shoulder. We hear metal crush and break inside him. He sags, turning to grip the wall... The third blow slams into his back, smashing his spine and pelvis. We hear servos ratcheting and failing. He drops to his knees, crucified on a wall of machinery. The fourth blow is centered between his shoulder blades. Sound of crushing metal. His skull is partially caved in. He slides to the floor. ON THE T-1000, emotionless as it walks forward. TERMINATOR is a pathetic shape on the floor. He is trying to crawl, feebly. Dragging his malfunctioning legs behind the crushed spine. His arm stump screeches on the tile floor as he inches himself forward. His exposed machine eye burns red with determination. We see his prize. He has the M-79, with the breech still open, cradled in the crook of his ruined arm. His good hand, the exposed steel one, is reaching for the last grenade, which is visible under the skirt of the massive smelter base. His metal fingers reach out for it as -- The T-1000 raises the heavy steel bar over his head and stabs it down with unbelievable force. It punches into Terminator's back, through a gap in the shattered armor. The T-1000 levers it back and forth, widening the hole. Then it raises the pointed bar again and slams it down. It punches right through. Emerging from Terminator's chest. And into the floor. He is pinioned. The cyborg sags face down and stops moving. The light goes out of his eye. Cut to: 208 int. maze of machinery 208 John scuttles like a rat through the guts of the smelter. Above him, vast machines churn untended. He hears a voice... SARA'S. Calling low and urgent to him. SARA John? John? Can you hear me? Where are you? He crawls out of the shadows. Onto a landing next to one of the SMELTER CRUCIBLES. Molten steel glows bright orange in the crucible of the furnace. Heat shimmers the air, giving everything a hallucinatory quality. John sees Sara nearby, limping toward him. She can barely move, her leg bathed in blood. He runs toward her. SARA (gasping) Help me, honey... TIGHT ON SARA, her stoic face, as she hobbles forward, reaching out to him. Something rises behind her, OUT OF FOCUS. ANOTHER, IDENTICAL, SARA... but this one has a shotgun. Aimed right at us. JOHN freezes. Which is which? He looks down. The first Sara's feet are melding with the floor, sucking and fusing with the tiles as she walks. They have the color and pattern of the tiles up to the knee. JOHN (screaming) SHOOT!!!! John dives aside. The Sara-form spins, changing into you-know-who. Sara starts unloading the shotgun into it. BOOM! It staggers back. K-CHAK. She chambers another round. BOOM! It staggers again. K-CHAK. BOOM! And again. And again. The T-1000 is blown back a step and Sara advances a step with each shot. The craters in the T-1000's body "heal" slowly. Its power is waning. She FIRES again. And again. Her eyes blazing with feral intensity. She walks it back, right to the edge of the pit of MOLTEN STEEL. K-CHAK... CLICK. She's empty. The T-1000 is right at the edge. In a second it will recover its composure, as its crater hits close slowly. She has failed. Now it will kill them both. Except... TIGHT INSERT as steel fingers slide a grenade into the bore of the M-79. CLOSEUP TERMINATOR, lying on the floor among the machines. It raises its head. Half human flesh, half chrome skull. Its red eye gazes right at us as -- It snaps the breech closed with a flick of its wrist and -- The muzzle is right in the lens as it -- FIRES. The T-1000 takes the round in the belly. The grenade EXPLODES inside its body. A huge hole is blown clean through it, and it is ripped open and peeled back, half inside out. It topples into the molten steel and -- The T-1000's head and upper body reappear above the molten steel. It is screaming. A terrifying, inhuman siren of a scream. It is changing, morphing, transforming into anything and everything it's ever been so rapidly the eye can barely follow... We catch a glimpse of Janelle Voight checkered with linoleum tile colors, Lewis the Guard with knives exploding from his face, other faces, switching at a stroboscopic rate now... a face every two frames until they merge into one face -- The chrome figure screams and slips beneath the surface of the molten steel. We see liquid silver running in dissipating whorls over the superheated surface... until it vanishes, swirling into nothing. JOHN runs to Sara. She stands staring into the pit. The empty shotgun slips from her fingers. Clatters to the floor. He sees that she's okay and he runs to the fallen Terminator. The crippled cyborg is trying to rise. Its servos whine and stutter. It pathetically lifts itself to a kneeling position, collapses... tries again. John lifts for all he's worth. Sara joins them, helping. They help the crippled machine get on its feet. It can barely stand. It walks to the edge of the pit. Terminator looks down and sees that it is over. John unzips Sara's back-pack and takes out the hand of the first terminator. JOHN (to Terminator) Will it melt in there? TERMINATOR Yes. Throw it in. He does. It sinks in the lava. Vanishes. TERMINATOR And the chip. John takes it out of his pocket. Looks at it. Tosses it into the smelter. SARA It's finally over. TERMINATOR No. There is another chip. TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 122 He touches a metal finger to the side of his head. John suddenly understands what he means. Terminator looks at Sara. They both know what must be done. John shakes his head. Tears are streaming down his face. JOHN No! TIGHT CLOSE-UP TERMINATOR, turning toward John. TERMINATOR I have to go away, John. It must end here... or I am the future. The human side of his face is in shadow, so we see mostly the chrome skull and the red eye. JOHN Don't do it. Please... don't go-- Terminator puts his hand on John's shoulder. He moves slightly and the human side of his face comes into the light. He reaches toward John's face. His metal finger touches the tear trickling down his cheek. TERMINATOR I know now why you cry, though it is something I can never do. (to both of them) Goodbye. SARA Are you afraid? TERMINATOR Yes. He turns and steps off the edge. They watch him sink into the lava. He disappears... the metal hand sinking last... at the last second it forms into a fist with the thumb extended... a final thumbs up. Then it is gone. HOLD ON JOHN AND SARA, watching through the heat ripples as we-- Dissolve to: THE SUN, PURE IN A CLOUDLESS SKY. Tilting down reveals that we are in a park, very green. People are casually dressed, having fun. Cycling, reading... children are playing in a playground. Beyond the line of trees we see the skyline of Washington, D.C., with the Capital Building and the Washington monument. The skyline is subtly changed, with a lot of new buildings, advanced high-rises. A CARD APPEARS. July 11, 2029 WE BOOM DOWN AND TRACK LATERALLY through a playground in the foreground. Children swinging on swings. Sliding down slides. Timeless things that 4 decades of technical advancement will not change. As we track we hear: SARA (v.o.) August 29th 1997 came and went. Nothing much happened. Michael Jackson turned forty. There was no Judgment Day. People went to work as they always do, laughed, complained, watched TV, made love. We pass a jungle gym, neither melted nor burned, but full of kids swinging and yelling raucously. Past it we drop down to see a boy pumping the pedals of a tricycle. SARA (V.O.) I wanted to run down the street yelling... to grab them all and say "Every day from this day on is a gift. Use it well!" Instead I got drunk. STILL TRACKING we come to rest on an elderly woman seated on a bench. It is SARA, now 64 years old. The world has aged her, but she seems at peace in this moment. She speaks into a microcassette recorder. SARA (V.O.) That was thirty years ago. But the dark future which never came still exists for me, and it always will, like the traces of a dream lingering in the morning light. And the war against the machines goes on. Or, to be more precise, the war against those who build the wrong machines. There is a man in his forties playing with two small children nearby. He turns. It is John Conner. Though he has the same stern features in adulthood, there is no eye-patch, no scarring. He is far from the haggard man of grim destiny we saw in the world that might have been. But there is still penetrating intelligence, even wisdom, in his eyes. SARA (V.O.) John fights the war differently than it was foretold. Here, on the battlefield of the Senate, the weapons are common sense... and hope. A FOUR-YEAR OLD GIRL runs to her to have her shoelace tied. TERMINATOR 2 - Rev. 9/10/90 124 GIRL Tie me, grandma. Grandma Sara smiles. It is the only time we have seen her smile so far. She bends as the little girl puts her foot up on the bench. She ties as we hear: SARA (V.O.) The luxury of hope was given to me by the Terminator. Because if a machine can learn the value of human life... maybe we can too. Sara ruffles the kid's hair as she runs off to play with her dad. FADE OUT