Hope Of The Future
Deleted scenes

Gant ranch
T2 omitted scene

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Scene description
A long sequence in which Sarah, John and the Terminator visit Travis Gant's ranch.

Reason cut
Van Ling (Creative Supervisor), in T2, the Book of the Film, An Illustrated Screenplay:
The story action in the Salceda Camp scene was originally part of a much longer and drawn-out portion of the film in the 7/18/90 draft, and took place at the mercenary ranch of Travis Gant, the "crazy ex-Green Beret" John refers to in the final film. Although there was a good deal more character exposition and development of the "fathers" theme --including the discussion of a prior romantic relationship between Sarah and Gant-- the scene slowed the pacing of the narrative down considerably and was ultimately streamlined and simplified into the Salceda's Camp scene. It is interesting to compare the two scenes side by side to note the condensation of narrative and the retention of the essence of the story despite the scaling- down of its scope. Salceda appears in this version as merely one of Gant's men.



Terminator 2 script (7/18/90):

The desolate hills southwest of Brawley.
TERMINATOR steers the pickup along a narrow dirt road
which winds precariously through the hills.  It is
designed to discourage casual visitors.

They approach a heavy metal gate which blocks the road.
It is flanked on both sides by a high chain-link fence
topped with razor-wire.  There is no call box or phone.
Only a NO TRESPASSING sign with a bunch of dried
rattlesnake heads decorating it, their jaws wide, fangs

          Don't get out.  They saw us coming
          three miles back.

On cue, a jeep rounds the bend beyond the gate and roars
toward them.  They hear a thundering whop-whop of rotors
and a Vietnam-era Huey roars over the hill next to them
and hovers overhead, blasting them with its rotor wash.
Three men dismount from the jeep and walk forward.  One
carries a shotgun, the other two M-16s.  Above them, in
the door of the Huey, another guy has an AK-47 trained on
Terminator steps out with the shotgun.

Sarah gets out and goes to the gate, waiting for the
sentries to reach her.  She speaks to the lead man,
SALCEDA, through the gate in perfect, almost unaccented

          Tell Gant I'm here.

Salceda, a Mexican wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a flak
vest, grins at her.

          He doesn't want to see you.

          Just tell him, pendejo.  And tell
          him I have John with me.

The sentry speaks into a walkie-talkie.  We hear her name
mentioned, but not much else.
John waits at the truck with Terminator.

          This place is run by a guy named
          Travis Gant.  An ex-Green Beret.  A
          total wild man... he's got
          connections all over Mexico and
          Central America.

The sentry is nodding, holding the walkie up to his ear.
We don't hear the other end of the conversation over the
helicopter.  He looks at Sarah and shrugs.  The sentries
open the gate, waving the chopper off.

                     (to Terminator)
          Put the shotgun back in the truck.

Sarah nods to him to comply.

          You ride with me.  Enrique will
          bring your truck.

One of the sentries walks past them to their truck as they
move to Salceda's jeep.

                                            CUT TO:


IN THE JEEP, bumping along the winding road.  Sarah, John,
and Terminator jammed in the back, holding onto a roll

          What makes you think he'll help us?

          He'll help us.

                     (to Terminator)
          The last time Gant and Sarah were in
          the same room he was in a drunken
          rage and coming after her with a
          sheepskinning knife.


          We were breaking up at the time.


The jeep passes through an arched stone gate and enters
the courtyard of Gant's run-down hacienda.  The place
might have been nice once, but it's a dump now.  A lot of
military-surplus jeeps and other vehicles are parked
around, and we see surveillance cameras, razor wire, and
other styling touches which make the place look more like
a military compound than a ranch.

There are more men, mostly Hispanic.  A few white guys.
Dress varies from biker denims to military fatigues.
There are women, children running, and dogs.

Terminator, John and Sarah get out of the jeep.
The dogs do not dig Terminator at all.  They are barking
and whining, slinking around, keeping their distance.

Two men come out of the main house, one striding ahead of
the other.  In the lead is TRAVIS GANT, followed by his
first lieutenant, INGRAM.  Gant is in his late thirties,
lean and muscular.  He wears combat boots and cammo pants,
no shirt, a denim vest, and a greasy bandana rolled into a
headband.  He is tight lipped, no nonsense, and even
though his hair has grown out and he only shaves every
other day, his bearing is utterly military... no fat, no
nonsense, no wasted movement.  His eyes are concealed by
dark aviator-style shades, and he wears a Detonics custom
.45 holstered at his hip.

Ingram is younger, an almost baby-faced ex-Marine punk
with a bad attitude.  Gant walks up to Sarah, glancing
once warily at Terminator, and plants himself right in
front of her.

          Man, you are one fuckin' section-
          eight crazy fucking bitch, coming
          here, you know that?
                     (changing tone)
          Hi John, long time.

          Hi, Travis.

Gant turns back to Sarah, talking lower.  Very tense.
He leans close to her, so no one else in the compound can
hear them.

          Your picture's all over the TV, you
          know that?  You and your psycho
          buddy, there.  Man I do NOT need
          this!  I got a business to run.  I
          can't afford any heat up here.

          So deal to us and we're on our way.

          What do you need?

          Guns... heavy stuff.  Explosives...
          and com gear, travel documents.  And
          I need you to get us across the
          ditch and arrange a trip south.
          Costa Rica.  Peru.  Whatever you can
          set up.

          How about the fillings out of my
          fucking teeth?!  Man, you are

John sees them standing close together and says to

          This is going better than I thought
          it would.


          I can't believe you had the balls to
          come back here.  And dragging that
          poor kid along.  You still feeding
          him all that crazy shit about a
          nuclear war and how he's gonna be
          the savior of all mankind?

          He is.

          Still a goddamn loony tune.  You
          always were.  A good fuck, but a
          loony tune.  Just get out of here,

          I need your help, Gant.

          Forget it.  When the Ice Capades
          open in Hell, you call me.

Gant turns to walk away, yelling to Ingram and the others.

          Get her out of here!


Gant pauses.  She gestures to Terminator to walk forward.
Ingram and the sentries raise their weapons.

          Tell him what you are.

          Series 800 terminator.  Model 101.
          Cyborg tactical infiltrator.

          Oh my God.  A killing machine from
          the future.  Watch out, guys.

Gant snorts, shaking his head.  Looks between Terminator
and Sarah like they are a sorry pair of losers.

          Man, you two deserve each other.

                     (to Gant)
          Give me your .45.  I need to show
          you something.

Gant looks at her warily.  But there are ten of his people
around with automatic weapons, so he unholsters the pistol
and hands it to her.  Sarah shows it to Terminator.

          Can I shoot you in the head with

          If it will help.

          Turn around.

He does and she levels the pistol in a two-hand grip at
the back of his head, point blank.  Sarah clicks off the
safety.  Gant can't believe what he's seeing here.  She's
really going to do it...


Terminator's head jerks a little with each hit.  John
winces.  The cyborg turns to them, calm and unhurt.

          No problemo.

Gant just stares, his mouth hanging open.  He slowly goes
up to Terminator.  Gets right up to his face.  He looks
right into the eyes.  Touches the skin of the cyborg's
Walks slowly behind him, not knowing what he expects to
It all comes crashing in on him.  We see it in his face.
He believes.  Gant turns to Sarah.

          Come inside.

John winks at Terminator.  Gives him a BIG THUMBS UP.
Terminator imitates the gesture, then tries a wink.  It
needs work.


Gant leads them into the kitchen, yelling to the house in

          Yolanda?!  We got company!

He is in shock, going to one cupboard then another, then
back to the first.  His body moving while his brain reels.

          Where's the fucking tequila?

He pulls a bottle out of the cupboard and grabs more
glasses than he can carry, gets them to the table.  Sarah
helps him.
A WOMAN comes to the doorway... Hispanic, about 25, and
seven months pregnant.  She looks stonily at the scene,
wary of the strangers.  A two-year-old boy toddles up
behind her, hand jammed in his mouth.

          That's Yolanda.  Mrs. Gant.
                     (he arches his
                      eyebrow at Sarah)
          Go figure, huh?

          Hi.  Nice to meet you.  I'm John,
          this is Sarah, and this is--
          Uh... my uncle.  Bob.  Uncle Bob.

Yolanda smiles.  John has broken the ice.  He has a way of
controlling situations, understanding people.
Gant is ripping the cap off the tequila bottle.  The two-
year-old toddles to him and grabs his cammo pants, sliming
them with drool.
Terminator watches the tiny kid, fascinated.  What is it?

          And this is Paco.  Honey, take
          Pacolito.  Thanks, baby.

She takes the child and retreats.  Wife as domestic slave.
After Sarah, the guy obviously wanted somebody more tame.
Gant sits heavily at the table, moving like the breath is
knocked out of him.  He pours himself a tall shot and
downs it in one gulp.

          So... everything you always said.
          The war... the future... it's all

He looks at Terminator, who nods "yes".
Gant grabs the other glasses, pouring while he talks.

          Wheww!  Damn.  I feel like I been
          kneed in the balls here.  This is
                     (to Terminator)

Terminator gestures "no" at the proffered glass.
Gant realizes his mistake.  This cyborg shit takes getting
used to.

          Yeah, right.

Sarah pours for herself.  A straight shooter.  She tosses
it back.

          I tried to tell you.

          I know.  You did.  Many times.

John signals to Terminator "let's go".  He wants to leave
Sarah and Travis alone to work this out.  As always, his
instincts are solid.  He takes Terminator by the sleeve of
his jacket and they drift away.  John calls from the front

          Any place I shouldn't go?

          Su casa, John.  You know that.
          Anything I got's yours.


Terminator and John walk out on the porch.  Ingram,
standing just outside the door, eyes them coldly.  He has
heard Gant's shouted carte-blanche but he doesn't like it.
As they walk down the steps Terminator looks at John...

          Uncle Bob?


Gant and Sarah at the kitchen table.  He takes off his
dark glasses and his eyes are somehow appealing, not hard
like we might have expected.

          When you first laid that shit on me,
          about John, I thought you were
          section-eight for sure.  Psycho
          waitress that thinks her kid's
          fucking Napoleon.

                     (she smiles)
          You didn't exactly throw us out.

          Naw.  I start cuttin' people off
          just cause they're crazy an' I'd
          lose all my friends.  Now I see why
          you were always serious as a heart
          attack.  Carrying that kind of shit
          around, by yourself, year after
          year.  I'm impressed kid.

                                            CUT TO:


John and Terminator walking across the compound.
John calls to some guys he knows, yelling in fluent
They wave to him.

          How long did you live here?

          Four years.  But we spent a lot of
          time in Nicaragua, Costa Rica...
          places like that.  Wherever Travis
          had business.  I thought this was
          how people lived.  Like everybody
          grew up doing weapons training.
          Riding around in helicopters.
          Learning how to blow shit up.

          Gant taught you?

          My mom and him, yeah.  When she got
          busted I got put in a regular
          school.  The other kids thought I
          was a little weird.


Gant stares at her, thinking back.  It's one of those
moments where someone is utterly familiar and yet somehow
suddenly a total stranger.

          Yeah... now I look back I can see
          your whole plan.  Find some guy that
          knows weapons and tactics, some dumb
          bastard, and get him to teach you
          how to run a military operation...
          so you could pass it on when the kid
          was old enough.  Brilliant.  And I
          was the dumb bastard.


          Everything had a purpose.  Coming on
          to me, getting me to teach you, take
          you out on runs.  Christ, I didn't
          care.  Long's you wrapped them legs
          around me, I'd a done anything.
          Damn, you didn't give one shit for
          me really, did you?

In her expression, her contained sadness, we see that she
did not.

          I'm sorry, Travis.

          You took me for a ride, got what you
          needed, and got off.

We can see his pain.  He thought they had something.  Even
though it ended badly, he remembered good moments.  His
new knowledge has led to a bitter re-evaluation.  Now he
knows those moments were hollow even then.

          I did what I had to do.

          Yeah.  I guess you did.  You wanna
          know what's crazy about it?


He pours again, for both of them.  Tall.

          You did it exactly right.  You knew
          what you had to do and you did it.
          You got nerves of fucking stainless
          steel, baby.  I'm proud of ya.  I
          really mean that.

They lock eyes... a moment of connection.
She is forgiven, although it is a painful forgiveness.
He grins at her, suddenly, a crazy kamikaze grin.
Clinks her glass.

          To the future!  Fuck it if it can't
          take a joke!  Right?

He tosses back the tequila.


John and Terminator pass some stripped Hueys, rusting on
blocks.  The functional Huey sits on the grass beyond.
Salceda is supervising the unloading of some crates from
the chopper.

          It's sad, me mom and Travis.  She
          won't let anybody take the place of
          my real dad.

          Kyle Reese.

          Yeah.  He's dead.
          Hey!  Did you ever meet him?  Up in
          the future, I mean.

          No.  Sorry.

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

          I wish I coulda met him.  I guess I
          will, when I'm older, cause I send
          him back through time and all.  He
          hasn't even been born yet.  Man, it
          messes with your head.

                     (remembering the
          It messes with your head.

          Yeah.  My mom and him were only
          together for one night, but she
          talks about him every day.  She
          still loves him, I guess.  I see her
          crying sometimes.  She denies it
          totally, of course.  Says she got
          something in her eye.

They reach a bunker-like concrete building.  There is a
combination lock on the heavy steel door, like a bank
vault.  John starts twiddling the dial on the lock.

          Why do you cry?

          Left 3 to 48.
                     (looking up)
          You mean people?  I don't know.  We
          just cry.  You know.  When it hurts.
          Right 2 to 90.

          Pain causes it?

          Uh-unh, no, pain is like a... like
          an alarm that tells you when there's
          damage.  This is different... And
          left one to 20.  It's when there's
          nothing wrong with you but you hurt
          anyway.  Because you love somebody,
          and they're gone or whatever.  You
          get it?


John completes the combination and tries the latch.  It
unlocks with a CLUNK.

          He should change this combination.


John precedes Terminator into Gant's armory.  A long
concrete room lined with every imaginable kind of weapon.
Racks of 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 the walls, wondering where to


          Yeah.  I thought you'd like this

Terminator picks up a MAC 10 machine pistol.  Slaps in a
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.

          Hey, do you feel any different yet?
          Like you're learning stuff?

          I don't know.  I feel the same.

          Have you figured out yet why you
          can't go around killing people?

Terminator is still stumped.  He takes a shot in the dark.

          Because it hurts them?

          Nooo.  Because it hurts the people
          who love them.  Get it?  That's the
          value of human life... we have
          feelings, people love each other.
                     (a beat, then--)
          Are you afraid of dying?

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


Terminator slings the M-79 and starts looking for the
John is idly spinning a Sig Saur 9mm pistol on his
finger... backwards and forwards like Bat Masterson.

          See, that's the problem.  You don't
          care if you live or die, and so you
          think everybody's like that.

          I have to stay functional until my
          mission is complete.  Then it
          doesn't matter.

John picks up a 2nd generation Starlite scope.  Switches
it on.  Twiddles the gain.  Looks through it.

          Yeah.  I have to stay functional
                     (sing songy)
          "I'm too important".
                     (he puts the scope
          She won't even let me play football.
          It's a drag.


Sarah has changed.  Boots, black fatigue pants, T-shirt.
Night patrol jacket.  Shades.  She looks hard.  She and
John have their weapons and supply selections laid out for
cleaning and packing.
Maps, radios, documents, explosives, detonators... just
the basics.
Gant strides up.

          It's set.  Soon as it's dark we'll
          cross the ditch in the Huey, and
          I've got a Citation meeting us at
          that strip in San Lupe.


Sarah eyes the preparations one last time and walks away.

                                            CUT TO:


The T-1000 sits as before.  Monitoring the police radio.
Listening to Sarah's tapes.  Scanning John's letters and

                          SARAH (V.O.)
          ... if we're ever separated, go
          directly to Gant's ranch.  Travis
          will take care of you until I get

T-1000 stops scanning the letter in its hand.  It zeros in
on the sentence it just heard.  Stops the cassette
recorder.  Reaches to the computer terminal on the dash.
Types "Travis Gant" with a KNOWN ACQUAINTANCES cross-
reference to "Sarah Connor".

TIGHT ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN.  Gant's vital statistics
come up.  Date of Birth.  License.  Number of arrests.
And an address out in Imperial Valley, near the Mexican

TIGHT ON T-1000 staring at the screen.
Suddenly, the barrel of a REVOLVER appears through the
open window beside it.  It's aiming right at its head.
The owner is a helmeted C.H.P. OFFICER.

          Freeze!  Police!

The T-1000 calmly complies.

ANGLE ON CRUISER from a few yards away.  The motorcycle
cop stands outside the cruiser's window, aiming his
revolver.  We see his motorcycle parked off to the side of
the empty road.

A SECOND MOTORCYCLE COP pulls into shot, rolling into
He's wearing a headset/microphone under his helmet.  We
hear him calling in the report.

                          2ND CHP
          Roger, that's a positive I.D. on
          the vehicle.  Suspect is in custody.

                                            CUT TO:


The T-1000 thunders along on a CHP Kawasaki 1100, doing
about a hundred and twenty.  PAN WITH IT until it recedes
toward the horizon.

                                            CUT TO:


Sarah seems to have the weight of the whole world on her
shoulders.  She sits at a picnic table.  Draws her boot

Starts to carve the words... "There is no--"

NOT FAR AWAY, JOHN is field-stripping and cleaning
weapons, packing for the trip.

UP ON THE HUEY NEARBY, Gant and Terminator are flight-
checking the aircraft, Gant covered with grease, changing
a part in the rotor-head.  Terminator helps him install
the component.

          So you're supposed to stay with the
          kid forever, and teach him, protect
          him, and keep him out of trouble?


          Buddy, sounds like you just got
          yourself elected father.


          Women'll do that.

          I'm not even human.

          No, it's fucking brilliant.  Think
          about it.  She knows you'll never
          stop... that you'll always be there.
          And you'll never hurt the kid.
          You'll never shout at him, never get
          drunk and hit him.  Never say you
          can't spend time with him 'cause
          you're too busy.  And you'd die to
          protect him.  You're the ultimate

          You're better suited.  The boy likes

          Naw.  I ain't the guy.  Forget it.
          She wrote me off a long time ago.
          Too many bad habits.

Gant laughs and takes a long pull from the tequila bottle.
He looks at Terminator, the solemn cyborg from the future.

          Anyway, considering what's ahead for
          that kid, you're a better role
          model... God help him.

HOLD ON Terminator, thinking about what's been said.

          You are a father.  Do you have any

          Talk about the blind leading the
          blind.  My advice?  Lighten up --
          the kid's world is so goddamn grim
          -- smile once in a while.


          Yeah.  Smile.  You know.
                     (he whistles to one
                      of his men)
          Hey, Enrique... your sister still
          sucking off donkeys in Tijuana?

                     (with a shit-eating
          No man, she's cutting down.  Your
          mother's taking all the business.

          See.  That's a smile.

TERMINATOR POV (DIGITIZED) The real-time image continues
while a replay of Enrique grinning runs in a window.  It
expands, so that Enrique'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 lips.  Terminator's next effort is a
marginal improvement.

          I don't know, maybe you could
          practice in front of a mirror or

ON SARAH, AT THE TABLE, as she looks up from her carving,
thinking.  She watches some kids playing in a sprinkler
They are children of some of Gant's men... shrieking as
the cold water hits them and loving it.

Sarah sees Yolanda walking Pacolito by the hands.
Backlit, stylized.  Carefree, despite the para-military
She looks over at John, cleaning guns... sees the future.

ANGLE ON kids playing.

TIGHT ON John inserting a part.

SARAH leans back against a tree trunk.  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.

Sarah, 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,
It is Sarah.  Beautiful.  Radiant.  Sarah from another
life, uncontaminated by the dark future.  She glances at
the strange woman beyond the fence.

Grim-faced Sarah presses against the fence.  She starts
shouting at them in SLOW MOTION.  No sound comes out of
her mouth.  She grabs the fence in frustration, shaking
it.  Screaming soundlessly.
Waitress Sarah'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 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 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.

Sarah 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, Sarah sits hunched over the table.  Every
muscle is shaking.  She is gasping.
Sarah struggles to breathe, running her hand through her
short hair which is spiky with sweat.  She can escape from
the hospital, but she can't escape from the demon which
haunts her.

She looks down at the words she has carved on the table,
amid the scrawled hearts and bird-droppings.  They are
words Kyle Reese told her, which John Connor made him
memorize before they came across time.  They are:
"There is no fate but what we make."

Something changes in her eyes.
She slams her knife in the table top, embedding it deeply
in the words.  Then gets up suddenly and we--

                                            CUT TO:


The door opens and Sarah walks in out of the afternoon


A big FN FAL .308 rifle is snatched from a rack.
A laser-designator is clipped onto the barrel.
A tritium-reticle night-scope is snapped into place.
Long .308 bullets are rammed one by one into a magazine.

TIGHT ON SARAH, looking at the last bullet.  She pushes it
down into the magazine with her thumb.  Sitting on top, it
will be the first one fired.  A 20 cent bullet which could
save 3 billion lives.
She slaps the magazine into the rifle and chambers the
first round.
Slinging the heavy weapon over her shoulder she exits.

LONG LENS on Sarah walking toward us.  In the sunlight
now, she pulls a pair of dark glasses from her jacket and
puts them on.  In her night-patrol fatigue pants, boots
and glasses she is all business.
She strides across the compound with grim purpose.
Her face is an impassive mask, her lips set.  She has
become a terminator.

JOHN LOOKS UP from his work in time to see Sarah throw the
rifle into the back seat of a hard-top jeep, jump in and
start it.  She slams it in gear.

GANT AND TERMINATOR look up as the jeep brakes hard
alongside the Huey.  They are up on top of the cowl,
adjusting the cyclic linkage.

Sarah roars up in the jeep.  She yells to them without
getting out.

          Fly John out tonight as planned.
          Then come back and wait for me here.
          I'll be back by dawn.

          Where you going?
                     (she roars off)
          Hey!!  Where -- god-DAMN-it.

MOVING WITH SARAH 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:


John, Terminator, and Gant ponder the message carved into
the top of the picnic table.  Sarah's knife is still
embedded there.  Ingram looks on, wondering what the big
deal is.

          "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--
                     (he sees Gant's
          Never mind.  Okay, the whole thing
          goes  "The Future is not set.  There
          is no fate but what we make for

          What's it mean?

          It means she intends to change the
          future somehow.

John snaps his fingers as it hits him...



          Miles Dyson.  She's gonna blow him
          away.  Son of a bitch!

          Who's Dyson?

                     (to Terminator)
          We gotta stop her.
                     (he spins to Gant)
          Travis, you stay here in case she
          comes back.  Keep her here till we
          get back.  We need a jeep.

Gant is amazed to be getting orders from a ten-year-old.
Even more amazed to be following them.

          Take that one.

He points to an open jeep nearby.  John motions to
Terminator and breaks into a run.

          Come on.  Let's get our stuff.

                                            CUT TO:


Sarah speeds through the darkening desert.  Her face is a
mask.  Grim and expressionless.  In her dark glasses, she
looks severe.  Pitiless as an insect.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:


TRACKING WITH A JEEP, Terminator and John heading into

          Why do you want to stop her, John?
          It may work.

          I don't care!!  Haven't you learned
          anything?!  There's gotta be another
          way.  Think!

PAN THEM BY as they pass, revealing the lights of the city

                                            CUT TO:


Gant, deep in thought, approaches the back entrance to the
main house.  He sees Enrique asleep in a chair on the back
porch, rifle across his knees.  Gant works up to him like
a cat, and surprises him by swiping his cap.

Only Enrique doesn't surprise so well.  His head lolls
over and Gant sees the dilated pupils, the trickle of
blood from the corner of one eye.

Gant gets a shot of adrenalin that revs him into hyper-
alertness in two seconds.  He drops into the shadows next
to the chair and scans the surroundings rapidly.  In the
bushes, twenty feet away, another one of his men lies
crumpled and motionless.  Gant pulls his Detonics .45 and
thumbs the safety off, then slips his walkie off his belt.
He cups his hand over it and whispers.

          Main gate?  Miguel?  Don't talk,
          just key your walkie if you copy,
                     (there is no answer)
          Salceda?  You copy?  Franco?  Come

His answer is static.
Not good.  Gant takes a couple grenades from Enrique's
harness and slips them in a vest pocket.  He cat-steps to
the house.


Gant enters the dark house.  His radar is turned up all
the way.  He hasn't felt his heart pounding like this
since Khe San.  He crosses the living room.  Pauses in the
corridor.  Silhouetted in the kitchen is a motionless
figure... Yolanda.

He puts his finger to his lips and motions her to him.
As she comes toward him Gant wonders at the last second
why she doesn't look particularly afraid... an instant
before Yolanda's hand snaps out into a two-foot steel
needle which punches through his abdomen and pins him to a
solid oak door with a THUNK!
He whips up the ,45 but THUNK!  His forearm is skewered,
pinned to the door at his side.
The pistol clatters to the floor.

He stares, face to face, into the eyes of the T-1000 as it
morphs into the cop-form.
Maybe this is an acid flashback, except it hurts too
goddamn much.  He knows suddenly that very special fear,
not just death, but of an incomprehensible death in a
deranged universe.

          Where is John Connor?

Gant squirms on the skewers like a bug, gasping with the

          John who?

THUNK!  Another needle slams through him, sprouting
directly from the cop's chest.  It pins him through the
left lung.

          Where is John Connor?

Gant struggles to breathe against excruciating pain.

          Don't know... gone.
                     (THUNK.  Another

THUNK.  Another.  Gant screams now, feeling rapier thrusts
through shoulder and groin.  He can't believe the pain.
His hand fumbles into the pocket of his vest.  Sweaty
fingers find a grenade there.  He pulls the pin.  The
spoon flies out and clinks on the floor.  T-1000 looks
down and looks up, into Gant's eyes.

          FUCK YOU!!


The front of the house EXPLODES in Ingram's face.  He was
running toward the front door with his MPK machine-pistol
at ready.  The blast knocks him on his ass.  He sits up,
slashed by flying glass, to see the inside of the house
engulfed in flame.  Then he sees something on the ground,
just outside the shattered front door...
A chrome head.  Ingram's expression goes bugshit.  The
chrome mouth is moving, gulping like a gaffed fish.

A figure appears in the doorway... 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.
INGRAM snaps out of his stupor and crawls in a frenzy for
his machine pistol.  He starts screaming and firing,
screaming and firing as we TRACK IN ON HIM.
The MPK clicks empty.  It is swatted out of his hands and
s steel needle pins him to the dirt.

          Where is John Connor?

          I don't know, man... aaaargh... they
          were talking about some guy... Dyson
          or something like that...

INGRAM'S POV as the impassive cop face hovers above him.

          Thank you for your cooperation.

The cop's hand comes into frame, the index finger pointing
straight at us.
RACK FOCUS to the tip of the finger as--
SSSNICK!  A flash of steel FILLS FRAME, then blackness.
Created by , 2001+