140 int. second floor corridor  140

ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN and Terminator leads the group warily into the corridor. They have a
cart piled high with gear in nylon bags. Dyson motions down the corridor to the right. As
they walk, he continues to fill them in--

DYSON
The vault needs two keys to open. Mine...
(holds up key)
...and one from the security station. One of the guards has it on a chain around his
neck. Here we go.

They stand in front of a wide security door. A sign above reads SPECIAL PROJECTS
DIVISION: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Sara grabs Dyson in a headlock from behind and jams
the muzzle of the .45 up against his temple. He doesn't flinch. They've talked about this.

TERMINATOR
Go.

Dyson zips his key-card through the scanner and the door unlatches.

141 int.  security station  141

The security station is a pass-through area with a counter, behind which are desks
and a bank of monitors, showing boring movies about empty corridors.
It's lunch-time for the graveyard shift. THREE GUARDS choke on their egg salad
sandwiches as the door bangs open  and Terminator charges into the security station
with the MAC 10 leveled.  Sara drags Dyson in like a hostage, causing them to hesitate
that fateful moment.

SARA
FREEZE!! Don't make me say it twice.

Terminator backhands the nearest guard into a file cabinet. The guy loses some teeth
and slumps. John snatches the pistol from his holster and pockets it. Sara releases
Dyson and spins the other two around... slamming them face-down over a desk. She kicks
their legs apart, cop style. They are disarmed in seconds. John uses heavy-duty tie-wraps,
cinched very tight, to bind their wrists. Terminator pushes them down to their knees. Sara
notices Dyson's alarmed expression.

SARA
What?

DYSON
He's not here.
(to the nearest guard)
Where's the other guy? The fat guy?

GUARD #1
Elkins? He went home sick.

DYSON
Shit. Did he leave the key?

GUARD #1
What key?

SARA
The key to the vault, fuckface!!  Where is it?

GUARD #1
I don't know... I swear --

John nods almost imperceptibly to Terminator. The guard is slammed against the wall and
lifted by his throat. Terminator's gloved hand tightens. The guy's face bulges, going
red. John pulls at Terminator's arm, pretending to try pulling him away. He speaks
earnestly to the choking guard.

JOHN
Open it, man. I'm not kidding around. I can't reason with this guy when he gets like
this. I've seen him do things made the coroner puke.

GUARD #1 
(barely intelligible)
Okay... okay...

Terminator releases him. The guy coughs and looks defiantly at the other guards.


GUARD #1 
I ain't dyin' for a goddamn key.
(to Sara et al) 
In there. He locked it in there.

The guard nods toward a safe-like LOCKER on the wall. There is a key-card slot with
a green light next to it.

GUARD #1
Key-card's in my shirt pocket.

John winks at Terminator and shoots him a THUMBS UP. The cyborg winks back, like
he's been doing it all his life.

142 int. first floor corridor/ lobby    142

A ROVING GUARD, MOSHIER, strolls down the long corridor from the first-floor office
block. A punch clock swings at his hip, and he's just completed his circuit of the
building. He passes the bank of elevators and rounds the corner to the front desk,
calling out --

MOSHIER
Honey, I'm home...

He sees the desk is deserted and frowns. Figures Gibbons must be in the can, so check
that first before getting alarmed. TRACKING WITH HIM to the restroom around the corner.

MOSHIER
Hey, man, you shouldn't leave the --

OVER HIS SHOULDER we see past the door as he pushes it open, revealing Gibbons
handcuffed to the urinal. Moshier spins on a dime and sprints to the desk where
he slaps his hand down on the silent alarm button.

143 int. security station   143

Terminator's hand swishes the card repeatedly through the scanner slot on the
locker. Nothing happens. The light on the locker is blinking red.

SARA
What? WHAT IS IT?

Guard #2 motions toward a light flashing on the console.

GUARD #2
Silent alarm's been tripped. It neutralizes the codes throughout the building.
Nothing'll open now.

Dyson takes that in, and we see his nerve snap.

DYSON
We should abort.

SARA
NO!! We're going all the way! You got that, Dyson?

She's right in his face.  Somehow, it works for him. He nods, getting some resolve
from somewhere.

144 int. lobby  144

Moshier's gotten Gibbons loose. He's on the phone to the cops.

GIBBONS
...multiple armed suspects. Look, I think it's the guy from that mall shootout,
and the woman...  yeah, her. Pretty sure. Just send everything you've got in the area --

145 int. security station/ lab  145

John jumps up on a desk next to the wall-mounted locker. Dyson stares in amazement
as John starts pulling his  counter-electronics gear out of his knapsack. It's just
another Insta-Teller to him.

JOHN
You guys get started on the lab... I can open this.

Dyson leads Terminator and Sara to the main lab doors. Another servo lock. He tries
his card. Nothing.

TERMINATOR
Let me try mine.

He unslings the M-79, pulling it over his shoulder in one motion. Sara grabs Dyson
and drags him back down the hall. Terminator opens the breech and slides in one of
the fat 40mm H.E. grenades. He flips the thing closed with a snap of the wrist.

SARA (yelling as she runs)
John! Fire-in-the-hole!

John drops what he's doing, and covers his ears. Terminator fires at inhumanly close
range. The door EXPLODES into kindling. The concussion blows his jacket open, and
flying shrapnel whizzes all around him. Before the thunderclap has faded Terminator
walks into the fire and smoke. John goes back to work without missing a beat. Sara
and a stunned Dyson walk through the burning doorframe into the Artificial
Intelligence lab.
A SIREN is sounding. The HALON FIRE-CONTROL SYSTEM has been triggered. The invisible
gas roars in, putting out the flames.

DYSON
Fire's set off the halon system! Here... hurry!

Dyson runs to a wall cabinet and pulls out some BREATHING MASKS. He hands one to Sara
and dons the other. Then he reaches out to hand one to Terminator.

DYSON
Here!

Terminator  doesn't need a mask, since his oxygen requirements are so low. He ignores
Dyson as he removes his massive back-pack and opens it. Dyson shrugs and tosses the mask
on a desk. He turns to Sara.

DYSON 
(yelling through the mask)
We'll have to keep these on a couple minutes, till the gas clears.

Terminator pulls two five gallon jerry-cans of gasoline from his pack. Sara starts
pulling out book-sized, olive-drab CLAYMORE MINES, stacking them next to the gasoline.
Dyson stares. Part of him can't believe they're really doing this.

Cut to:

146 int. dyson house - night    146

The T-1000 moves slowly through the ravaged office, analyzing what has happened here.
He walks down the dark hallway. The place is deserted. The police-walkie clipped on his
belt (real, not simulated) blares to life.

DISPATCHER (V.O.)
All units, all units. 211 in progress at 2144 Kramer Street, the Cyberdyne building.
Multiple suspects, armed with automatic weapons and explosives. SWAT unit is en route...

147 ext. house/ street  147

The T-1000 sprints up and throws his leg over the big C.H.P. Kawasaki. Fires it up.
It smokes an arcing scorch-mark on the pavement as it spins around and roars away.

Cut to:

148 int. cyberdyne building/ lab    148

TIGHT ON A LARGE DISK-DRIVE. State-of-the-art. Very expensive. A FIRE AXE smashes down
through the housing, shattering the disk.
WIDER, revealing a scene of high-tech pillage. Terminator beats the disk drive into
junk and steps to another. WHAM. Same routine. He's already demolished half a dozen.
Sara topples a files cabinet, scattering the files. Dyson staggers up with an armload of
heavy M-O (magnetic-optical) disks and drops them on a growing stack in the middle of the
floor. He and Sara have their breathing masks hanging down around their necks, since the
halon gas has dissipated.

DYSON 
(to Sara, panting)
Yeah, all that stuff!  And all the disks in those offices. Especially my office...
everything in my office!
(to Terminator)
These, too! This is important.
(SMASH!)
And all this here... that's it.

Sara goes into Dysons office and starts hurling everything out the door onto the central
junkpile... books, files, everything on the desk. A FRAMED PHOTO of Dyson's wife and kids
lands on top of the heap. Tarissa, hugging Danny and Blythe, all grinning. The glass is
shattered.
Terminator cuts a swath, under Dyson's direction, exploding equipment into fragments with
his inhuman swings. SMASH!  It's carnage. Millions in hardware, and all the irreplaceable
fruits of their years of research... shattered, broken, dumped in a heap for the big
bonfire of destiny. Dyson stops a second, panting.

DYSON
Give me that thing a second.

Terminator hands him the axe. Dyson hefts it one-handed. He turns to a lab table...
on it is another prototype processor.

DYSON 
I've worked for years on this stuff.

Swinging awkwardly but with great force he smashes the axe down onto the processor
prototype, exploding it into fragments. His shoulder is agony, but he looks satisfied.

149 int. second floor security station  149

John taps away at his little lap-top, which is running code-combinations into the
card-key lock. Suddenly, the green light on the locker goes on and it unlocks with
a clunk.

JOHN
Easy money.

He whips it open, revealing a rack of keys. But the VAULT-KEY is distinctive, a long
steel rectangle on a neck-chain. John grabs it and runs toward the lab.

150 int. lab    150

Sara and Terminator are working like a crack team, rigging the explosives. She is
taping the claymores to the gas-cans with duct-tape to create powerful incendiary
bombs.  Terminator is attaching claymores and blocks of C-4 plastic explosive to
the large MAINFRAME COMPUTER cabinets nearby. All the claymores are wired back
to one detonator which has a RADIO CONTROL RELAY switch.

DYSON
How do you set them off?

Terminator shows him a REMOTE DETONATOR, a small transmitter with a red plunger.

TERMINATOR
Radio remote.

He makes a plunger-pushing motion with his thumb and an accompanying "click" sound. Dyson
nods. Just then John comes running in, holding up the key.

JOHN
I got it. Piece a cake.

SARA
(to Dyson and Terminator)
Go! I'll finish here.

They run out as the SOUND OF SIRENS grows louder outside.

151 ext. cyberdyne building 151

The security duo of Moshier and Gibbons cowers behind cars in the parking lot in front of the
building. They turn as L.A.P.D. BLACK-AND-WHITES pour into the lot, turning the area into a
disco of whirling blue and red lights.

152 int. second floor security station/ stairs  152

John and Dyson sprint through the security station, heading for the vault. Terminator herds
the three guards to the stairwell, pushing them through the door. With their wrists bound,
they stumble down the stairs. Terminator FIRES A BURST from the MAC 10 over their heads,
showering them with plaster dust. Their feet fly as they clatter down the steps.

TERMINATOR
Later, dickwads.

153 ext. cyberdyne building 153

The cops are jumping from their cars and ducking behind them. Emphasis on small arms
here. They react to the sound of automatic weapon fire inside the building. Behind
them an ugly BLACK S.W.A.T. VAN screeches into the lot.
We hear the THUMP OF ROTORS as a POLICE CHOPPER arrives and swings in close to the
building. It rakes its XENON SPOTLIGHT through the second floor offices.

154 int./ext. second floor office   154

Terminator crosses the office toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. He is outlined
starkly by the spotlight as it rakes through the dark offices. Without breaking
stride he kicks an executive desk toward the window. Glass explodes outward and 
the desk topples, falling to the sidewalk below.
Terminator, standing at the edge, FIRES A LONG BURST which strafes the police cars
lined up below. Cops duck as glass flies. Terminator, with his superb aim, hits
no one.  But notice is served.
The cops (surprise) FIRE BACK. Terminator turns and is walking calmly from the windows
as glass, office furniture, drapes etc. are riddled by return fire. A few rounds hit
his back, but he doesn't notice. He reloads as he walks.