Back in the van, Winston is still talking about Sarah's son. "He's just a boy," says Sarah. "A boy you'd die to protect," he says. Sarah says any mother would. Any mother would die to defend John Connor? I don't think so! "You'd be surprised," says Winston, who then goes on to talk about how the enemy is like a weed: you leave any part of it underground, it will pop back up where you least expect it, so you have kill the root. "Or in this case..." the head vampire? "... the seed." Sarah says her son isn't alone, so Winston won't get anywhere near him. Winston says he won't have to, because her son will come to her. Sarah says her son is too smart for that, so I guess she must have some other son that we don't know about. Winston intends to make Sarah call her son, and to make his point, he starts choking her, although I've always found that positive reinforcement is far better for motivation than choking someone.

Then he stops. "We don't need to talk anymore," he says. Is that a promise? Sarah vows not to call John, saying she'll die first, and Winston's all, oh, you'd like that.

Sarah's jerked awake by John, who Sarah called sometime after getting the shot, it would seem. He's there to get her out of there, but she says the doctor's just going to keep hurting people if they don't do something about it. So blow up the hospital and call it a day.

Hobson leaves her forbidden chamber of mystery on the ground floor, and then John and Sarah creep out from the stairwell. So much for this sedative the doctor gave Sarah. They head over to the keypad. "Think you can hack the combination?" asks Sarah. "In my sleep," says John. Clue! So beep-boop-beep and they're in, to a room with large monitors on the wall displaying neural images. Brain scans. John checks out one of the desktop computers, and says there are thousands of files. Sarah asks if she's one, and gives John her bracelet so he can get her patient ID number. And sure enough, there she is. A scarred forehead, flat hair -- she looks like a mugshot pulled from thesmokinggun.com. "There's a ton of data on you. It's a whole profile," says John. She tells him to delete it. She's convinced it's a Skynet program, and he tries telling her that it's just a sleep clinic, only she thinks sleep is the perfect cover. She implores him to delete her profile, which takes a few moments of frantic typing.