"Variation on a Mexican Standoff" (part of the Numb3rs/Sarah Connor Chronicles crossover)
Title: Variation on a Mexican Standoff.
Series: Cold Numbers.
NUMB3RS / Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles crossover.
Pairing/Characters: Amita, Cromartie, Cameron, John, Sarah, Sinclair.
Rating: PG-13 (language!)
Summary: Cromartie tracked down Amita, and ended up in a stand-off with Sarah and Sinclair…with Cameron turning on them.
Word Count: 1,089.
Spoilers: Sarah Connor Chronicles 1.01-3, Numb3rs 1.01 & 4.01-13.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters endemic to either series.
Quotation: You can only predict things after they’ve happened. -Eugene Ionesco.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the sun rose and started to climb the sky, and as none of the humans were leaving the scene of the burned house, Cromartie opted to fall back on known resources.
Target: Amita Ramanujan.
Location of Occupation: University.
…and called up a GPS map with his present location and the room where his target was paid to work.
Status: In Pursuit
Mode: Silent
…and started running, dodging houses and cars and other things that he normally would run through - if he left a trail here and now, it risked tipping off his target.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cromartie arrived at the university, and took aim at the window of Amita Ramanujan’s location - she was indeed within the room - and took off, running straight for it. Distractions are immaterial, unimportant. This time’s authorities would be hunting Sarah Connor for him, leaving only one target to eliminate.
Cromartie leaped, crashing through the window, rolling as soon as he struck the room’s floor, standing up with his latest procured gun aimed perfectly at Amita Ramanujan.
“You even think of firing,” Sinclair said from behind him - beside the window, “and I’ll drop you.”
He paid no heed to the human. Instead, he took a step closer to Amita.
“Who - who are you?” she asked.
“Immaterial,” Cromartie said, taking a second step.
“Hey!” Sarah hollered from her vantage point in the room, out of sight of the windows and with a better position to disable Cromartie. Why isn’t he firing? was the thought passing through Sarah’s mind.
He ignored her, kept still.
“Aren’t I still a priority?” Sarah asked, taunting the killing machine. “Target numero uno.”
“No. John Connor is ‘target numero uno.’”
“I’m his mother. You’re not getting him -”
“We will,” Cromartie assured her, his voice sounding less human than it had a moment ago.
“What the…?” Sinclair asked.
“Meet the future,” Cameron said as she came in by one of the hallway doors, holding John in a vicegrip around his neck.
“He lives,” Cromartie observed.
“Yes. At this moment. Abandon your pursuit of this woman - Amita Ramanujan - and I will kill John Connor.”
“You mean,” Sinclair asked, “abandon or you will.”
“No,” Sarah said, “she doesn’t.” At Cameron, “Little fucking tin man.”
“She means me,” Cameron said to Cromartie.
“Tin Man,” Cromartie said. “Character in ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ Story told in Spanish to young John Connor.”
“Does everybody know this?” John asked.
“You are the leader of the Resistance,” Cameron said. “Skynet learned everything about you.”
“Skynet?” Sinclair asked, keeping his eyes on both Cameron and Cromartie, keeping his gun fixed on the latter. Why is that word faintly familiar?
“Long story,” Sarah said.
“I will release your son alive,” Cameron told her, “if you bring me Charlie Eppes.”
“What’s he to you?” Amita asked, wondering if it was a good idea to remind everyone that she was still here - though based on Cromartie’s grip, he certainly hadn’t forgotten.
“John Connor requested his death.”
The surge of disgust racing through Amita was enough to get her to glare at John, even despite the gun still pointed at her.
“Don’t look at me, lady,” John said. Not for the first time, I really hate time travel.
“He will not be leading the Resistance,” Cameron told Cromartie.
“His youth is a hurdle,” Cromartie said, “not a blockade.”
“Cultural mores of this period cut severely the odds of either Amita Ramanujan or Katherine Brewster joining him in conjugal military alliance.”
Amita’s face said it all: WHAT?
“You moved us forwards in time,” Sarah demanded, “to keep my son from his lieutenants?” And from his wives?
“I told you the truth,” Cameron said. “If you had died of cancer, you would not have lived to see Skynet triumph.”
“You will never triumph!” she spat at the machine.
“That depends. Charlie Eppes assisted Skynet. He added mathematical subroutines to make myself and Cromartie superior over models T-1 through T-10.”
“She is the mother of John Connor,” Cromartie stated. “The equation’s result is a foregone conclusion.”
Amita turned her glare on Cromartie. “And what about me? What’s my contribution to the future?” Aside from being a bedmate, it seems.
“A crippling weapon. Without Charlie Eppes, all would fall before the Resistance.”
Great. Just great. If they’re telling the truth, Charlie and I end up in an arms race.
“If I leave to go get him,” Sarah asked, shifting her grip only the tiniest amount, “how do I know my son’ll be alive and healthy when I get back?” fully expecting either - or both - cyborg to say ‘you don’t.’
“Because I’m valuable, right?” John asked.
“Correct,” Cameron said.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sinclair told Sarah Baum.
“The proposal applies to yourself as well, Agent Sinclair. You have our word that neither of us will kill or injure Amita Ramanujan in your absence.”
“Agreed,” Cromartie said.
If not for the fact that they’d kill him, Amita thought to herself, Charlie would love this. It’s game theory…game theory gone mad. “Question. How do I know that you two are really robots?”
In answer, Cromartie slammed his free hand through a table.
Amita snorted.
Hope she’s got a plan, Sinclair thought to himself, reaching for his radio.
“My grandmother could do that,” Amita said. “Granted, I don’t think she’s done it since she was my mom’s age.”
“Focus, concentration,” Sinclair said, hoping this worked. “Just a matter of ignoring the pain.”
“Exactly. Any idiot can do it.”
“Even idiots who can calculate Pi to the 300th power?” Cameron asked.
“Even them.”
A page of a report flickered across Sinclair’s mind, a memory unearthed. It’d been years ago, but, “Hey, you know, I have heard the name Sarah Connor before - some nutcase who escaped from a mental institution -”
I’d take offense, Sarah thought, if I didn’t think you were trying to save your friend from these damned machines.
“- and thinks her son’s the next messiah.”
“Really?” Amita asked. This was a good distraction - for her, if not for the nuts with the guns.
“Yep. John Connor’s supposed to be the guy to overthrow the globe-spanning evil computer that nearly wiped out mankind. Claims this Skynet keeps sending robots back in time to stop that from happening.”
“That’s true,” Cameron said.
“Except time travel’s impossible.”
“That I’m standing here, as is Cromartie, is evidence that time travel is possible.”
“Not really,” Amita said. “You’ve claimed to be from the future, but you haven’t proven it.”
Sinclair pressed one button on his radio - the one that silently would call for backup.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble, but the muses kept dragging it on and on. Sorry. I’ll see if I can return to drabble format.
Series: Cold Numbers.
NUMB3RS / Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles crossover.
Pairing/Characters: Amita, Cromartie, Cameron, John, Sarah, Sinclair.
Rating: PG-13 (language!)
Summary: Cromartie tracked down Amita, and ended up in a stand-off with Sarah and Sinclair…with Cameron turning on them.
Word Count: 1,089.
Spoilers: Sarah Connor Chronicles 1.01-3, Numb3rs 1.01 & 4.01-13.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters endemic to either series.
Quotation: You can only predict things after they’ve happened. -Eugene Ionesco.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the sun rose and started to climb the sky, and as none of the humans were leaving the scene of the burned house, Cromartie opted to fall back on known resources.
Target: Amita Ramanujan.
Location of Occupation: University.
…and called up a GPS map with his present location and the room where his target was paid to work.
Status: In Pursuit
Mode: Silent
…and started running, dodging houses and cars and other things that he normally would run through - if he left a trail here and now, it risked tipping off his target.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cromartie arrived at the university, and took aim at the window of Amita Ramanujan’s location - she was indeed within the room - and took off, running straight for it. Distractions are immaterial, unimportant. This time’s authorities would be hunting Sarah Connor for him, leaving only one target to eliminate.
Cromartie leaped, crashing through the window, rolling as soon as he struck the room’s floor, standing up with his latest procured gun aimed perfectly at Amita Ramanujan.
“You even think of firing,” Sinclair said from behind him - beside the window, “and I’ll drop you.”
He paid no heed to the human. Instead, he took a step closer to Amita.
“Who - who are you?” she asked.
“Immaterial,” Cromartie said, taking a second step.
“Hey!” Sarah hollered from her vantage point in the room, out of sight of the windows and with a better position to disable Cromartie. Why isn’t he firing? was the thought passing through Sarah’s mind.
He ignored her, kept still.
“Aren’t I still a priority?” Sarah asked, taunting the killing machine. “Target numero uno.”
“No. John Connor is ‘target numero uno.’”
“I’m his mother. You’re not getting him -”
“We will,” Cromartie assured her, his voice sounding less human than it had a moment ago.
“What the…?” Sinclair asked.
“Meet the future,” Cameron said as she came in by one of the hallway doors, holding John in a vicegrip around his neck.
“He lives,” Cromartie observed.
“Yes. At this moment. Abandon your pursuit of this woman - Amita Ramanujan - and I will kill John Connor.”
“You mean,” Sinclair asked, “abandon or you will.”
“No,” Sarah said, “she doesn’t.” At Cameron, “Little fucking tin man.”
“She means me,” Cameron said to Cromartie.
“Tin Man,” Cromartie said. “Character in ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ Story told in Spanish to young John Connor.”
“Does everybody know this?” John asked.
“You are the leader of the Resistance,” Cameron said. “Skynet learned everything about you.”
“Skynet?” Sinclair asked, keeping his eyes on both Cameron and Cromartie, keeping his gun fixed on the latter. Why is that word faintly familiar?
“Long story,” Sarah said.
“I will release your son alive,” Cameron told her, “if you bring me Charlie Eppes.”
“What’s he to you?” Amita asked, wondering if it was a good idea to remind everyone that she was still here - though based on Cromartie’s grip, he certainly hadn’t forgotten.
“John Connor requested his death.”
The surge of disgust racing through Amita was enough to get her to glare at John, even despite the gun still pointed at her.
“Don’t look at me, lady,” John said. Not for the first time, I really hate time travel.
“He will not be leading the Resistance,” Cameron told Cromartie.
“His youth is a hurdle,” Cromartie said, “not a blockade.”
“Cultural mores of this period cut severely the odds of either Amita Ramanujan or Katherine Brewster joining him in conjugal military alliance.”
Amita’s face said it all: WHAT?
“You moved us forwards in time,” Sarah demanded, “to keep my son from his lieutenants?” And from his wives?
“I told you the truth,” Cameron said. “If you had died of cancer, you would not have lived to see Skynet triumph.”
“You will never triumph!” she spat at the machine.
“That depends. Charlie Eppes assisted Skynet. He added mathematical subroutines to make myself and Cromartie superior over models T-1 through T-10.”
“She is the mother of John Connor,” Cromartie stated. “The equation’s result is a foregone conclusion.”
Amita turned her glare on Cromartie. “And what about me? What’s my contribution to the future?” Aside from being a bedmate, it seems.
“A crippling weapon. Without Charlie Eppes, all would fall before the Resistance.”
Great. Just great. If they’re telling the truth, Charlie and I end up in an arms race.
“If I leave to go get him,” Sarah asked, shifting her grip only the tiniest amount, “how do I know my son’ll be alive and healthy when I get back?” fully expecting either - or both - cyborg to say ‘you don’t.’
“Because I’m valuable, right?” John asked.
“Correct,” Cameron said.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sinclair told Sarah Baum.
“The proposal applies to yourself as well, Agent Sinclair. You have our word that neither of us will kill or injure Amita Ramanujan in your absence.”
“Agreed,” Cromartie said.
If not for the fact that they’d kill him, Amita thought to herself, Charlie would love this. It’s game theory…game theory gone mad. “Question. How do I know that you two are really robots?”
In answer, Cromartie slammed his free hand through a table.
Amita snorted.
Hope she’s got a plan, Sinclair thought to himself, reaching for his radio.
“My grandmother could do that,” Amita said. “Granted, I don’t think she’s done it since she was my mom’s age.”
“Focus, concentration,” Sinclair said, hoping this worked. “Just a matter of ignoring the pain.”
“Exactly. Any idiot can do it.”
“Even idiots who can calculate Pi to the 300th power?” Cameron asked.
“Even them.”
A page of a report flickered across Sinclair’s mind, a memory unearthed. It’d been years ago, but, “Hey, you know, I have heard the name Sarah Connor before - some nutcase who escaped from a mental institution -”
I’d take offense, Sarah thought, if I didn’t think you were trying to save your friend from these damned machines.
“- and thinks her son’s the next messiah.”
“Really?” Amita asked. This was a good distraction - for her, if not for the nuts with the guns.
“Yep. John Connor’s supposed to be the guy to overthrow the globe-spanning evil computer that nearly wiped out mankind. Claims this Skynet keeps sending robots back in time to stop that from happening.”
“That’s true,” Cameron said.
“Except time travel’s impossible.”
“That I’m standing here, as is Cromartie, is evidence that time travel is possible.”
“Not really,” Amita said. “You’ve claimed to be from the future, but you haven’t proven it.”
Sinclair pressed one button on his radio - the one that silently would call for backup.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble, but the muses kept dragging it on and on. Sorry. I’ll see if I can return to drabble format.