TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT DAY Screenplay

1. 59

   karthuposted 15 years ago

   Here is one of the screenplays i liked...
   Written by James Cameron and William Wisher
   
   
                                          "TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT DAY"
   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   1 EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
   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
   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
   3 ANGLE ON a heap of fire-blackened human bones. Beyond the mound is a
   vast tundra of skulls and shattered concrete. The rush hour crowd
   burned down in their tracks.
   4 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 TRACKS
   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. Its glowing red eyes
   compassionlessly sweep the dead terrain, hunting.
   The SOUNDS 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.
   5 EXT. BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT
   THE BATTLE. Human troops is desperate combat with the machines for
   possession of the dead Earth. The humans are a ragtag guerrilla
   army. Skynet's weapons consist of 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:
   5A Explosions! Beam-weapons firing like searing strobe-light.
   5B A gunner is an armored personnel carrier fires a LAW rocket at a
   pursuing Aerial HK, bringing it down in a fiery explosion.
   5C Another APC is crushed under the treads of a massive Ground HK.
   5D A TEAM OF GUERRILLAS in a intense fire-fight with terminator
   5E endoskeletons in the ruins of a building. Three terminator
   5F endoskeletons advance, firing rapidly. Another (complete cyborg),
   with flesh ripped open and back broken, gropes for a rifle on the
   ground.
   5G A Centurion overruns a human firing position. Soldiers are cut
   down as they run. Fiery explosions light the ranks of advancing
   machines.
   6 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 CONNOR. We push in until his
   eyes fill frame, then...
   DISSOLVE TO:
   FIRE. SLOW, BOILING, ENORMOUS. FILLING FRAME.
   VOICE (SARAH CONNOR)
   Skynet, the computer which controlled the machines,
   sent two terminators back through time. Their
   mission: to destroy the leader of the human
   Resistance... John Connor. My son.
   The first terminator was programmed to strike at
   me, in the year 1984... before John was born.
   It failed.
   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
   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
   On a back route to north L.A. A handful of local TRUCKERS hunch over
   chili-sizes, CAT hats pushed back on their heads. Three BIKERS are
   playing a game of pool in the back, their Miller empties lining 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 every night. All eyes simultaneously swivel toward
   Terminator. Its emotionless gaze passes over the customers as it
   walks calmly through the room. Everyone frozen, not sure how to
   react.
   8A 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...
   8B TERMINATOR
   I need your clothes, your boots, and your
   motorcycle.
   The big biker's eyes narrow. He takes a long draw on this cigar,
   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 slight 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 send
   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 jerking. He rolls off in a smoking heap.
   The third biker whips out a knife with a 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 is 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
   The doors 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 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
   Terminator strides from the kitchen, fully clothed now in a black
   leather jacket, leather riding pants, and heavy, clean 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
   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
   around round in fast, aiming at Terminator's back.
   LLOYD
   I can't let you take the man's wheels, son.
   Now get off or I'll put you down.
   Terminator turns and considers by coldly. He eases the shifter up
   into neutral. Rocks the bike onto its kickstand. Swings him 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 is 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's 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
   Terminator roars down the freeway, heading for 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. OVERPASS - NIGHT
   The First Street Bridge. Rusting chain-link fence and graffiticovered
   walls. An L.A.P.D. BLACK-AND-WHITE cruises the empty street.
   A TREMENDOUS BLUE-WHITE GLARE suddenly spills out between the columns
   of the overpass. The young UNIFORMED COP in the car whips his head
   around at the source of the light. He pulls over quickly, in time
   to see...
   13A The powerfully arcing electrical discharge reaches its peak between
   the columns. Lightning climbs the chain-link fence and light
   standards, lighting up the night, and papers swirl in a blasting
   whirlwind.
   13B The cop climbs from his cruiser as the glow fades.
   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 the rows of pillars.
   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 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 lighting 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
   this pistol.
   CUT TO:
   13C 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
   TIGHT ON YOUNG JOHN CONNOR, who at his 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, JANELLA 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, right?
   JOHN
   Gimme that Phillips right there.
   15 INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
   Janelle storms into the room. TOD 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
   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
   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.
   17A 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
   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
   guards patrol the manicured grass.
   19 INT. HOSPITAL - MAXIMUM SECURITY WING
   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 pull-ups. A man of tangled hair hides the
   face that comes INTO FRAME, dips out, comes back.
   WIDER. A WOMAN in a tank top and hospital pants in 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
   FIGURES MOVE TOWARD US down a corridor of polished tile and twotone
   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 twoway
   speaker beneath a tiny window. Silberman flips the intercom
   switch.
   21 INT. CELL
   Silberman's scrubbed and cheerful face at cell window. HIS VOICE
   comes over the tinny speaker.
   SILBERMAN
   'Morning, Sarah.
   REVERSE ANGLE as she turns slowly into CLOSE UP.
   SARAH CONNOR 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.
   SARAH
   Good morning, Dr. Silberman. How's the knee?
   22 INT. CORRIDOR
   Silberman's smug composure drops a second. Then returns.
   SILBERMAN
   Fine, Sarah.
   (he switches off, speaks to
   the interns)
   She, uh... stabbed me in the kneecap with a
   screwdriver a few weeks ago.
   Sarah 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
   though 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 seeing the patients
   disturbing their rooms like this. See that she
   takes her thorazine, would you?
   DOUGLAS is 6'4", 250 pounds and warm-hearted at 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
   Sarah looks up as the cell door opens. Douglas walks in slowly,
   idly tapping his POLICE BATON against the door in a 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 you meds, Connor.
   Sarah faces him, weight centered. Feral eyes darting from one to the
   other.
   SARAH
   You take it.
   Douglas grins, casual --
   DOUGLAS
   Now you know you got to be good 'cause you up
   for review this afternoon...
   SARAH
   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 breathe. Douglas tips the bed and it slams
   down with a crash, right new to her. He takes her stun wand from
   the other attendant and walks forward.
   TIGHT ON SARAH, grimacing and struggling to breathe.
   SARAH
   You... son of a... AAARRGH!!
   The stun wand hits her between 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
   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 slot. It is something he's rigged
   up, because trailing from the card is 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 keypad 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
   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
   Sarah. Pregnant, in a jeep near the Mexican border. John doesn't
   know it now, but he will carry the 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 Pescedero. She tries 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 7-Eleven, whatya say?
   John has tried to sound casual, but we see in his eyes that is 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
   CLOSE ON COMPUTER TERMINAL, attached to the dash. A Juvenile
   Division file. Subject: John Connor. Below his ARREST RECORD are
   his vital stats. Mother: Sarah Connor. Legal Guardians: Todd and
   Janelle Voight. And below their names, an address: 523 S. Almond.
   Reseda, Ca.
   OFFICER X stares at the screen for a moment. Then gets out the car.
   27 INT./EXT. VOIGHT HOUSE - DAY
   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 Connor?
   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. Be he took off
   on his bike this morning. Could be anywhere.
   You gonna tell me what his 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 photograph
   of John?
   Todd stares unhappily at the cop. Turns to Janelle.
   TODD
   Get the album, Janelle.
   CUT TO:
   28 EXT. STREET
   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. SARAH'S CELL - DAY
   CLOSE ON SARAH. She is shackled, hands and feet, to the bed.
   Sunlight falls across her pale face. A hand enter 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 blonde hair and a long
   raincoat.
   SARAH
   Kyle..? You're dead.
   He gives her a gentle smile.
   REESE
   I know. This is a dream, Sarah.
   SARAH
   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 the look that his death
   and the horror she has been through since hasn't touched their love
   at all.
   SARAH
   Hold me.
   She melts into Reese's arms. Pulls him to her.
   REESE
   I love you. I always will.
   SARAH
   Oh, God... Kyle. I need you so much.
   She kisses him passionately. They are locked together in a timeless
   moment. PUSH IN TIGHT on Sarah as she buries her face in his
   shoulder. She shuts her eyes tight. Stay on Sarah as Reese speaks.
   He voice is strangely cold.
   REESE (O.S.)
   Where's John, Sarah?
   Sarah opens her eyes and he is no longer in her arms. He is standing
   across the room. Pinning her with an accusing gaze.
   SARAH
   They took him from me.
   REESE
   It's John who's the target now. You have to
   protect him. He's wide open.
   SARAH
   I know!
   REESE
   Don't quit, Sarah. Our son need you.
   SARAH
   (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 not fate but what we make for ourselves.
   He turns toward the door.
   SARAH
   Kyle, don't go!
   REESE
   (turning back to her)
   There's not much time left in the world, Sarah.
   Reese goes out the door. Sarah jumps from the bed, frantic. Yanks
   the door open. Follow her out.
   30 INT. CORRIDOR
   Sarah 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.
   Sarah 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...
   30A Slams right into the arms of Douglas and his three helpers. They
   grab her as she struggles and screams. The 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...
   30B A BEAUTIFUL SUNLIGHT MORNING. CHILDREN are playing nearby... sliding
   down slides, clambering through a jungle gym. Sarah knows this
   dream know... it's is the worst of all her nightmares. She starts
   to scream but no sound comes out.
   30C THE SKY EXPLODES into WHITE LIGHT. Everything is seared by the unholy
   glare, hotter than a thousand suns. The children ignite like
   match heads. Sarah 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.
   30D 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
   hit now, with a thunderous roar. Sarah'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.
   30E Then she wake 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, Sarah feels all hope recede for herself and for humanity.
   CUT TO:
   31 INT. PESCADERO STATE HOSPITAL - INTERVIEW ROOM
   TIGHT ON VIDEO SCREEN, playing a previously-recorded session.
   Sarah is in a strait-jacket, talking softly.
   VIDEO SARAH
   ... 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...
   31A The REAL SARAH dispassionately watches herself on the screen. Her
   expression is controlled. Silberman watches her watching. They are
   in a brightly-lit interview room. TWO ATTENDANTS stands nearby.
   31B VIDEO SARAH
   The children look like burnt paper... black,
   not moving. Then the blast wave hits them and
   they fly apart like leaves..."
   Video Sarah can't go on. Real Sarah 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, Sarah...
   Video Sarah cuts him off, her mood shifting to sudden rage.
   VIDEO SARAH
   It's not just a dream. It's real, you moron!
   I know the date is happens!!
   VIDEO SILBERMAN
   I'm sure it feels very real to you --
   VIDEO SARAH
   On August 29th 1997 it's going to feel pretty
   fucking real to you, too! Anybody not wearing
   number two million sunblock in gonna have a
   real bad day, get it?
   VIDEO SILBERMAN
   Relax now, Sarah --
   VIDEO SARAH
   You think you're alive and safe, but you're
   already dead. Everybody, you, him...
   (she gestures are 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 SARAH
   You're the one living in a dream, Silberman,
   not me! Because I know it happens. It
   happens!
   31C Silberman pauses the tape... freezing Sarah's contorted face.
   Real Sarah turns away from the screen, he expression stony.
   SARAH
   I was afraid... and confused. I feel much
   better, now. Clearer.
   Silberman gives a calculated paternal smile.
   SILBERMAN
   Yes. Your attitude have been very positive
   lately.
   Sarah looks up at him. Her voice is hopeful.
   SARAH
   It has helped me a lot to have a goal, something
   to look forward to.
   SILBERMAN
   And what it 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 that interns from the
   earlier rounds, and a couple of STAFF PSYCHOLOGISTS. They smoke and
   make the occasional note.
   SARAH
   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 SARAH. Her voice sounds hollow.
   SARAH
   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.
   SARAH
   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?
   Sarah shakes her head no.
   CUT TO:
   32 EXT. CYBERDYNE SYSTEMS - DAY
   The corporate headquarters of a mega-electronic corporation. As
   imposing cubist castle of black glass.
   33 INT. SECOND FLOOR/ELEVATORS
   The elevator doors slide open with a whisper and MILES DYSON strides
   out. Black. In his early thirties. The star of the Special
   Projects 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
   He nods to the guards as he passes through the security checkpoint.
   They can see all activities on the floor on their bank of monitors.
   He unlocks another service door with his card and enters --
   35 INT. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (A.I.) LAB
   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 members. Not a lab coat in sight.
   This is strictly jeans and sneakers crowd. All young and bright.
   They sit at their consoles drinking Coke 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 material teams 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
   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 item on a
   clipboard.
   37 INT. VAULT
   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, it its insert-gas, 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 Sarah destroyed. Dyson stares at it, lost
   in thought. The he closes the cabinet, BLACKING OUT FRAME.
   CUT TO:
   38 INT. INTERVIEW ROOM/OBSERVATION ROOM
   We can see through the one-way mirror into the interview room where
   Sarah is still talking with Silberman. The OTHER PSYCHOLOGISTS are
   still watching through the mirror. Reviewing Sarah's condition.
   SARAH
   So what do you think, Doctor? I've shown a lot
   of improvement, haven't I?
   SILBERMAN
   You see, Sarah... 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 who you've been telling me
   today.
   We go tight on Sarah'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 quite pleading.
   SARAH
   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.
   Sarah'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.
   SARAH
   YOU SON OF A 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 and she yells --
   SARAH
   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
   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 about the
   houses several blocks away. Officer X stares at it.
   40 EXT. STREET
   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.
   40A 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.
   40B Terminator wheel the Harley around, cutting onto a street which runs
   parallel to the canal. Terminator hauls ass at 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 lot of a
   large SHOPPING MALL.
   41 INT. GALLERIA - DAY
   John works his way through a crowded video arcade. Sees some guys he
   knows. Stops to talk, striking a pose. Mall rats in the element.
   We don't hear the dialogue.
   42 INT. GALLERIA PARKING LOT
   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
   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.
   43A IN A CROWDED VIDEO ARCADE JOHN is lost in an intense battle, going for
   a new high score at "Missile Command". He parries deftly at 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 in an "Afterburner" simulator game.
   43B ON TERMINATOR, walking through the crowd in slow motion. Scanning.
   He moves with methodical purpose, knowing the target is close. We
   see that he is, incredibly, carrying a box of LONG-STEM ROSES. Like
   some hopeful guy with a hot date.
   43C THE COP is pointed toward the arcade by come kids hanging out at the
   multi-cinema. He walks into the maze of kids engaged in synthesized
   combat. Cheap electronic effects blare above the crowd noise.
   43D 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. Sarah 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. As eddy of outrage behind the cop as he gains speed.
   John breaks into run. So does the cop.
   Kids scatter like ten-pins as the cop charges after John.
   John sprints through the arcade's back officer and store-rooms.
   44 INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR
   John emerges through a firedoor into a long corridor with 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 back steel of the SHOTGUN emerges at 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 starting 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 the pistol. The pistol's shot goes wild.
   TERMINATOR pumps another round into him. The another. And another.
   Advancing a step each time he fires, he empties the shotgun into the
   cop, blowing his backward down the corridor. The sound is DEAFENING.
   Then silence.
   THE COP lies still on his back.
   44A Terminator is now standing right over John. They both watch as the
   cop, incredibly, sits up unharmed and gets to his feet. Terminator
   grabs John roughly by his jacket. Clutches the kid to his chest
   then spins around at the cop opens fire with the Beretta.
   44B 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.
   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.
   He doesn't break his purposeful stride.
   The cop opens fire. Bullets rake Terminator's chest. He 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. The 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 a prototype... and he's got quite a
   few surprises.
   T-1000 AND TERMINATOR size each other up. Terminator moves first.
   He grabs T-1000 in his 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 this, remembers to move. He staggers to
   his feet. Stumble-runs toward the parking garage.
   44C THIRD LEVEL CONCOURSE. A plate glass window EXPLODES and Terminator
   crashes through to the tile floor like a sack of cement amid the
   screaming crowd.
   44D T-1000 turns without a word and heads back through the store after
   John, accelerating slowly into a loping, predatory run.
   44E 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.
   He sits up and looks around. Gets his bearings. Rises smoothly to
   his feet. All servos seem to be working fine. The tourist's camera
   whirs as the motor-drive runs on by itself, taking shot after show.
   The owner isn't even looking through the eyepiece, he's so shocked.
   45 INT. PARKING GARAGE
   John is frantically pumping the kick-start 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
   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 back at his truck.
   46A 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.
   46B Out of the garage entrance, Terminator roars onto the street on the
   Harley.
   He accelerates after the others.
   47 EXT. FLOOD CONTROL CHANNEL
   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.
   47A Suddenly he sees the sun blocked out by a great shadow.
   The Kenworth tow-truck... big as a 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 gunshot stegosaurus, it just keep on plowing forward, gathering
   speed.
   47B 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.
   47C ABOVE THEM, on the service road running parallel, Terminator is
   fighting to overtake them. He looks down and sees John with the towtruck
   from Hell catching up to him. It is only about twenty feet
   behind him and still gaining.
   47D ANGLE IN THE CANAL, looking back past a desperate John, at the wall
   of metal filling frame behind him.
   47E ABOVE, Terminator cuts the bike suddenly hard to the left, leaving the
   road. Hitting an earth embankment just right, he 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 canal below.
   47F John hits some water and slews momentarily, loosing speed. The
   massive push-plate on the front of the truck slams into his back
   fender. Panicked, he pulls a little ahead. All this is happening at
   about sixty miles and hour. Top speed for the little dirt bike.
   47G 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 under the frame. Only the ultra-fast
   reflexes of a machine could keep the bike upright. Terminator fights
   for control.
   47H He 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,
   smashing 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.
   47I 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 concrete abutment at seventy.
   47J 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 his 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.
   47K 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
   servo-mechanism 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 shape and lines of its clothing emerge from the liquid
   chrome surface, then finer details... buttons, facial features,
   ears...
   47K But it's still al chrome. With its last step, the color returns to
   everything. It is the cop again... handsome young face, blond hair,
   mustache. 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.
   47L 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 diasters 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 - NIGHT
   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 in shock from the experience of what just happened and
   he's just a ten-year kid, but he's also John Connor who will someday
   rise to greatness, and we see a bit of that in him even know.
   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
   Terminator and John rolls 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 in 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 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
   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 does that mean?
   TERMINATOR
   Liquid metal.
   JOHN
   Radical.
   TERMINATOR
   You are targeted for termination. The T-1000
   will not stop until it complete 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
   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
   Janelle Voight picks up the kitchen phone and cradles it with her
   shoulder which 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 VOIGHTS' KITCHEN. Todd comes through the kitchen's back door.
   Just home from work. He ignores Janelle and opens the fridge. Grabs
   a carton of milk. 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 find out what happened in a moment)
   AT THE PAYPHONE
   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's 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
   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 milk carton, 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.
   53A Janelle doesn't bat an eye as the spike smoothly changes shape and
   color, transforming back into a hand, and then...
   53B JANELLE CHANGES rapidly into the COP we now know as the T-1000. The
   change has 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 it,
   barking in fear. T-1000 walk 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
   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 doesn't 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
   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.
   56A 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...
   SHOT OF JOHN AND SARAH during the missing years. Sarah in olive
   cammos with an RPG 7 grenade launcher, teaching John how to aim.
   Sarah with a group of military-clad Guatemalan men, standing next to
   cases of Stinger missiles. John and Sarah in a Contra camp, deep in
   the mountains.
   57 EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT
   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. 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 Sarah Connor 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 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 him 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
   collage-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 him. John yells in outrage to 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 my 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 the 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 K-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 any more. 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
   T-1000 finds an envelope... a letter from Sarah 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 Sarah's tapes and exits.
   CUT TO:
   59 CLOSE ON A BLACK & WHITE PHOTOGRAPH. The image is a nightmare from
   the past. It is a surveillance camera still-frame from the L.A.
   police station where the first terminator made such an impression in
   1984. We see the blurry forms of the cop 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-80 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 CLOSEUP.
   DETECTIVE WEATHERSBY (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
   The photos are lying on the table in front of Sarah, placed there by
   DETECTIVE WEATHERSBY. His partner DET. MOSSBERG, and Dr. Silberman,
   sit at the table as well. Two uniformed cops, plus Douglas, stand by
   the door. Sarah stares listlessly at the top photo. She's
   withdrawn, haggard... drugged-looking.
   MOSSBERG
   He killed seventeen police officers that night.
   Recognize him?
   Weathersby slaps another black-and-white eight-by-ten on the table.
   A closeup 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.
   Sarah doesn't react. It's hard to tell she's thinking. Whether she's
   up hope or is just in a drugged stupor.
   WEATHERSBY
   Ms. Connor, you've been told that your son's
   missing. His foster parents have been murdered,
   and we know this guy's involved. Talk to us.
   Don't you ca

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