8. ON A RAIL
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Hundreds and hundreds of satellites have been launched since the beginning of the race into space. But one particular satellite, geostationary over what all of them could only see as a large mesa in Nevada, was now being reactivated after over fifty years of inactivity.
No technology, however advanced, is advanced enough to stand the test of time. And so, after initial contact, critical pieces for its functioning had now ruined beyond repairing causing an overload that in turn would create an explosion on the outer shell, which would finally push the now useless equipment into Earth's atmosphere.
Yet, the scientists over thousand kilometers below its vertical found no romance in the small falling star.
"Sir... We cannot establish contact."
D was so much beyond rage from that simple affirmation that he appeared calm.
"What do you mean by that?"
"The satellite responded but then vanished from our monitors."
"And there is no way to replace it, is there?"
"Oh, there is an equivalent one, but it needs to be launched..."
*
Once was pretty stupid, but twice was plainly insane.
Yet, as before the monstrous black thing didn't even so much as blink as the two again
dived under its large flamethrowers, the salvo of bullets meant for them going splat
against its shell seemingly without any harm done.
*Forget about them, take that freak down! All explosive weapons, fire at will!*
The nine millimeter bullet shower stopped and almost
immediately an explosive one began. At least three rocket launchers and a dozen grenade
launcher fired nearly in unison at the black metal monster, the walls collapsing around it
from splash damage.
Was it destroyed? They couldn't know, as both Gordon and Gina had fled back into the
generator chamber.
"OK, we may be safe here for a few seconds, but we're trapped!"
"We're not trapped." She went for the same side duct that the monster crashed down from.
"Well, if you can fly..."
"Well, a jetpack is almost like flying."
"You're not going to..."
But he was interrupted as she pushed him inside, grabbed him by the sides and began liftoff.
"Warning: unit being aereally lifted. Movement momentarily disallowed."
Like he could move. For the endless instant the trip lasted he was just frozen in fear.
*Movement!*
As soon as they surfaced, once again bullets flew in their direction. Gordon's fears ended abruptly as he began firing suppression even before they touched land, when they began running for the exit.
"Move it! Move it! Back to the train!"
They returned to the advance base where Gina once again grabbed Gordon and used the jetpack to slow their descent enough to reach the ground unscathed, all in much less time than it would have taken by using the ladder.
And when they reached and climbed aboard the train, they
noted it was now operational - as expected, since the generator showed clearly what it had
given power to.
So they fiddled with the controls a little and found what turned the platform around to
face their destination, and finally accelerated.
Then they went flat on the metal surface of the open train, as gunfire erupted from behind. They were already hot on their trail, but at their speed they were soon out of range and, freed from the black thing in an unexpected way, they were diving headfirst into the dimly lit tunnels ahead.
*
"OK, people. Preparations are over, get ready to move out!"
D had just informed him that a small shock squad with the thing was now going to move in to the "suspected zone" and follow it around until it found their target. He was skeptic, as was the squad, but D's orders were not to be discussed however far fetched they seemed. So, the Alpha team leader - and as a matter of fact, leader of the entire twenty men team and now of this five man shock squad - ran through his checklist as all his men were: 36 rounds of .357 - check. Battery for Desert Eagle's laser pointer - check. Five clips of 9mm ammo for his MP5, and ten 30mm grenades for the attached M203 - check. Emergency knife - check. Powered Combat Vest repulsing shield: maximum. He was ready for battle, as he had been for the last six hours.
And so, as the team ran through their longer checklists, he once again asked in his mind to no one in particular the usual rhetorical question, 'why the hell did I sign on?' When they ran him through 'advanced' - i.e. lethal - training he knew he was being tested somehow. And when he was offered to join some organization of which he actually knew nothing, an organization which had incredible technology such as the rarely assigned PCVs, capable of withstanding an impressive number of rounds even at point blank range while the wearer remained nearly unharmed. PCVs which also came with self-recharging light enhancement goggles, Geiger counter, a rudimentary HUD which monitored most of his lifesigns and ammunition status, an automatically customized gas mask plus a safe compartment for explosives now occupied by the ten grenades.
That kind of stuff was almost... almost alien. Almost as if the creators weren't human. But he knew that whatever this organization was all about, which was just one of the many things he still didn't know after six months of working for them, they were not common stuff. Nothing about them was common, starting from his boss and his viscid assistant, that 'G' guy who always gave him the creeps, and proceeding on to the aliens who were now intent on invading Earth.
Yes, they were aliens from some other dimension or something, but actually he didn't care. They were just the enemy...
No, the real reason he didn't care was that if he tried to, his mind would go crazy from the denial of a lifetime of underlying beliefs. And that, he knew - hoped - was what most of his soldiers were doing as well.
Thus he concentrated on the mission ahead. They were to use a 'modified' version of the monsters to find one of the enemies' deadliest weapon, a GRS. Who were the enemy, and how they knew that the GRS was a woman in the mid twenties with what he learned to recognize as an HEV mark four he didn't know. And again, he tried not to care as he quickly and roughly inspected his four man unit - Murphy's combat law number twenty-one: no combat ready unit has ever passed inspection - an finally led them to their waiting Osprey.
And the thing, in its metal and glass box, was waiting there as well...
*
The tunnels beyond were rather dark. Not so dark as they couldn't see, but still enough to keep them on their toes. With all the noise they were making, anyone - and anything - that wanted to find them could do so with relative ease.
"I hope it's not another maze!" he shouted over the noise as they run at over fifty kilometers per hours down the rather twisting tunnels, holding tight to the train's railings at each bend.
"Only one way to know..." she answered.
Then, after several and rather abrupt turns, there was more light in the distance. But even the train's noise could not hide what was waiting: electrical thunders sweeping and crackling in the air, answered by shotgun and high calibre pistol shots.
"Ready for battle?" she asked, almost rhetorically.
They emerged in the awaiting chaos, and joined it head on.
At least ten slaves on either sides of the track, a couple of which broke their siege to assault the new threat coming behind them. The two tried to fire, but their aim was spoiled as the train ran into the central piece of a crude barricade. Sparks accompanied a screeching noise and both jumped off one side of the train, hitting the ground still firing, as their vehicle derailed and finally crashed into a wall behind them.
The siege was going bad for the humans, as testified by the men lying on the ground motionless in a pool of blood. The remaining didn't even salute, they just continued firing and ducking in only to reload or to avoid to their best the enemy fire. Enemy which wasn't being stupid, either, and used a raised platform on one side and the stairwell on the other to block the flow of bullets and counter it with their own flow of electricity.
And almost every thunderbolt that didn't land on flesh landed square on the tables and sandbags which formed the barricade, and every shot that landed scorched and broke a little through it.
There was no time to lose: almost at unison, the duo
removed the pin from one hand grenade each and threw it to one side in hope to cripple or
at least flush out the invasion.
But the enemy reaction was surprising: they ignored them, instantly decimated by the
nearly simultaneous explosions two seconds later.
The remains of the enemy force was evidently getting confused by the sudden demise of most of their companions, and wandered right into the fire where they were easily mowed down.
In another minute, the only noise in the corridor were the sparks of broken wire and machinery, and human pantings.
"Thanks, guys. We were really pinned down!"
Only then they noticed that there were only two survivors.
*
*Check it out, people. Is it gone?* Two men closed in slowly, ready to back off.
The enormous black thing, lay motionless under the slabs of concrete from the broken ceiling, which looked as if it could collapse any minute now.
They got to about three meters from it, then backed up.
"No sign of movement. I think we can write that one off, sir!"
A short lived cheer erupted from the nervous squad, stopped by the General.
"We're still way too far from celebrating, people. Radio, get me Foxtrot team on the air."
"Roger."
A man in gas mask removed his backpack while most of the squad still looked at the monster as if it was going to stand any moment.
*Foxtrot team ready, over.
"Movement check, sector F underground."
There was a pause.
*Movement check, cannot get visual on anything but there's two... high energy signatures. Origin is declared as 'HEV mark four', no more information, over.*
"Trace vector. Could they have come from current location, bias ten minutes?"
Another pause, as the team on the radio checked the last ten minutes of recordings.
*Confirmed, vector traced. Current position fixed. Over.*
"Maintain lock. Standby for messaging. SO over and out."
Intelligence had been good on the location of the security and messaging system core. Who would have suspected it was almost outside the facility, just a little bit underground and rather poorly defended? They were now in control of most of the facility from there, although the recent happenings and the extreme complication of the core itself didn't make things that easy even for the computer geniuses in Foxtrot team.
"OK, people. We have time to kill until reinforcements arrive so I say we cover our shoulders. I bet a round those two energy signatures were the two friends of this big thing so let's get moving and take 'em down!"
The squad replied another unanimous "YES SIR!". They wanted revenge as badly as he did, and so as they left not even the rear guard noticed that the thing's eye was still bright red...
*
Doctor Winslow and security guard Johnston, the two survivors from the siege, were still nervous and moved from what they had survived just an eternal ten minutes before. They had, of course, put the deceased in a decent composure and covered them with blankets and shirts, but still they all felt as if they were slacking instead of doing what they should be doing.
Gordon and Gina were also moved, as any normal person would be when faced with death, but they had already found what they should be doing and were doing it: surviving.
"Well, I take it you were trying to escape too?"
"Escape? From here? It's impossible."
"I've been told there's an escape route just along these tunnels, and that it leads very far from the base!"
"An escape route? I don't know. The tracks are electrified, and with your train out of order I wouldn't know how to get much further around."
"You mean there isn't a foot way around here?"
"The only way we know is either certainly infested or goes back to the Aquadome from where we escaped. I just don't know what those things are, but they are not human, definitely."
"I know. We've met them too. They're all over the place, apparently, and well..." Gina hadn't sat down, but instead was actively browsing through a scaffold.
"Ah-ha! Just what we needed!" She picked up a long pipe roll from behind a crate, uncapped it, and unrolled one of several sheets on the table, revealing blueprints of the subterranean railway and, a bit awkwardly at first, they formed an intelligible map of what seemed to be the entire sector on the room's floor.
"There! Here we are." Winslow pointed to a section on the upper part of the map, whose top off-chart connector said 'Sector E', their previous location, and close by was another connector to 'Aquadome Two'.
OK. Now, for anything that looks like it could lead away..."
Eight eyes scanned for minutes their closest sections, and Johnston was the first to look up.
"Well, well, well... Dotted line, entry apparently sealed, labeled 'emergency'."
"Interesting, but let's keep checking anyway."
They browsed for another five minutes, but they produced nothing else.
"Well, looks like we don't have much more to go on. Let's see... We proceed down here for about... three hundred meters," began Gordon, "Then this way."
Winslow continued. "Follow it about a kilometer around, then... Hmmm, this part is a bit confused here but it appears to be some sort of central hub as most ways end up here. Well, if there are no particular troubles, we should already be in sight of..."
Johnston concluded: "Of the exit. And of this 'industrial sector laboratory', whatever it is. I wonder if there's someone else there?"
"Only one way to find out. Shall we get going?"
"Yes, Gordon, let's just, uh, pack this thing up and..." Gina interrupted Johnston.
"There's no need to. HEV mark fours scan and memorize all maps on the fly."
The four moved outside where Gina pointed the way forwards, seemingly leading further down the tracks now barred by the derailed train.
They went down a short step and were now hugging closely the wall on a rather thin ledge itself hugging the tracks, where sporadically a spark would fly signaling that a wrong step would be fatal.
And then, almost startling them, a klaxon echoed in the corridors and a horribly synthesized male voice croaked, neatly separating the words as always, "Personal message to Gordon Freeman and to the other little bitch: we will kick your asses."
*
Tom wasn't one to surrender this easily. Yesterday his other informer, doctor Javal, did not show up at the appointed time and place, which meant either that he had been given the typical shaft, or that he really was on the right track. Tomorrow he would have confirmation, for better or worse, but tomorrow would already be a bit late for if he wanted to get any kind of information in time. And getting blown up in a ground zero while this close to the scoop of his life - and probably of the millenium - would be rather heroic, but also rather useless because then the world would never know.
So, he had only one hope left: the Nevada border military base from where the strike team's reinforcements supposedly would be leaving if the need arised - a need that, to what little Javal had had the time to say, would arise without any doubt.
And so he had caught the first plane to the closest city to there and was now driving in the afternoon sun just a little past the military zone sign. One more kilometer and he should be in binocular sight of the base.
Then, he spotted a Chinook.
It was not going towards him at all, and with a little luck the sand color of both his dress and of his jeep would make him unspottable.
Yet, spotted or not, the plane was going on. With a compass, he figured out the direction of the Chinook's vector, knowing that the pilot would hardly bother to change it since their mission was one of the century's best kept secrets as far as they knew. Not well kept enough for him, he knew, as he saw a second plane flying in that same direction, and began the chase.
And when a third plane followed the second but no fourth followed it, he still knew he was on the right track - to what, though, he still didn't know for sure - when he reached a sign over ten kilometers away from his initial position which read "Trespassers will be shot on sight".
*
Gordon and Gina remained frozen for an instant.
"Now just how the hell...?"
The voice in her head didn't know more than she did.
"Just who was it? And how do they know us?"
"Was it you you two that the announcer was talking about?" asked Johnston.
"...It seems to be that way..." answered Gina.
"Maybe you can explain, then?" inquired Winslow.
"I don't know," began Gordon as they walked further down the ledge "It's a rather long story. See, I come all the way from sector C and..."
"SECTOR C?" shouted almost in unison both Johnston and Winslow.
"SHHH! Quiet down!" exclaimed Gina, almost nervously.
"Sector C... Are you making a fool of us?" asked Winslow, more than slightly annoyed.
"He's not. I've come down from sector B training facility, and that's even farther away."
"That's just... Just..."
"Impossible. Well, doctor, when I signed on I didn't think the monsters we just survived were possible, and from what I've seen I think it's the same for you. Anyway, Gordon, do go on."
"Well, I was analyzing this material, Etherthel, and we had a resonance cascade."
"A resonance cascade? I don't know much about those things, but I do know it's nasty..." commented Winslow. "...And Etherthel you say? It rings a bell, but I just can't put a finger on it."
"Hmmm... Well, so, any communications equipment in sector C is out of order, and I'm the only one in shape to get in contact with the surface. So I go down the sewers to access a service elevator to sector D, where I do find the surface. Too bad it's guarded by soldiers.
"Wait, wait, wait... You mean there's military inside the complex?"
"Definitely, and they have no intention of saving us. Anyway, I..."
"CONTACT!"
They had to come to an intersection in the tracks, and from the corner on their left a slave appeared only to be sent to the ground a fraction of instant later through Gina's quicker reflexes.
Another one appeared on the opposite side and began charging, but a three-round burst from Gordon's now ready MP5 stopped it cold. He turned quickly the corner, chewing through another one as naturally as of he had pushed aside a cobweb, and stopping to scan the poorly lit tunnels with his breastlight and listening for noises.
But all was quiet, and they allowed relaxing down.
"Well... Impressive." Winslow was sincere about that remark, seen at which speed the two took down the threats.
"Yes. Uh, well, where was I? Oh, yes. There are soldiers but I escape anyway and then, after teaming up with Gina here, we destroy what looked like a three-headed monster in sector E silo eleven. Then, below the silo, we find access to the tracks, but with this big black thing with flamethrowers guarding it. We try to activate the train as to outrun it, but we stumble on more soldiers. We still escape and the rest is recent history."
"More soldiers. Well, from what I've seen they should not pose too big of a threat to you... Not to forget who knows how many of these creatures you had to have encountered. You know, in normal circumstances I'd dismiss your words as the ramblings of a madman, but after seeing you fight I really cannot. You don't seem to be usual people."
"Believe me when I say I certainly am not. But I'd like to leave it at that, if possible."
"I feel I understand."
"Well, I don't. But I sure don't want to try my luck by being on your bad side. And what about you, miss Andrews?"
She was embarrassed; she certainly couldn't tell them he just followed a voice in her head all the way around...
"Well... Uh... It's rather hard to believe... But I woke up back in sector B, at the training facilities, after what I thought was a quake had hit. I just went around, trying to find survivors or an escape route of sorts, and then I stumbled on these soldiers and figure that they... yes, they had to have an helicopter that maybe I could steal... But they're all too guarded and, trying to escape myself, I stumble onto Gordon as he said."
"Stealing a chopper, come on... You could have said the truth!" but Gina just ignored the voice.
While the four talked, they had gone further down the tunnels and realized that they were going down a slight slope.
And further onwards, the entire section was flooded.
*
*Foxtrot confirming, sir. They are coming to... Wait, sir, they are turning around!*
"Are you certain there is no other route?"
*Yes, sir. All the other ways are either reported as sealed at some height or leading to position Niner. Over.*
"Hmmm. Report if they're going back to previous section. SO over and out."
This time, they would be prepared. No single alien had been a real match for his squad, and down here the possibility they could be swarmed as bad as they were outside were nearly zero. But he still had afterthoughts as the wiseness of taunting them over the communication system. He had now told them they were being followed.
*
The thing was motionless in the storage box; yet he knew it was barely dormant.
And its open eyes seemed almost to watch him.
But he couldn't show signs of nervousness as he was the leader. Even though he was only a corporal, he had as much responsibility as the highest ranking colonel now - although remembering that D's concept of 'weak man' coincided with his concept of 'dead man' helped him maintain his composure. Yet, his four subordinates' silence told tales: they were at least as nervous as he was.
So he looked outside, like he did when he was a child on a boring car trip with his now dead parents, and saw just what anyone on a plane had to see of Black Mesa: just a large, slightly dark mesa. Yes, flying at this height and knowing what was down there helped him distinguish a few buildings or so, but he knew that the only evident constructions were inside the artificially completed valley, covered by some sort of holographic projection of a slightly dark desert - projection he noticed becoming rather inconsistent from his last trip, probably due to the massive structural damage the entire complex was taking every passing hour as firefights erupted between aliens and civilians, damaging machines which started chain reactions that would reduce entire sectors to ruins.
*Dammit! Buckle up back there, engaging evasive maneuvers!*
His boredom was broken by the pilot's warning, which was followed by a rather deep dive for a Chinook.
*Sky is hot, corporal! Looks like reinforcements have... Holy SHIT what the hell is that thing?*
What was he talking about?
*Wilson, what's happening out there?*
*Oh good LORD! They have flying machines! They have flying machines already!*
And then the entire squad saw. Out of the window, not far from them, an Apache attack helicopter appeared at nearly point blank range and fired a machine gun salvo. That would have been bad sight enough, except that the salvo was fired but for milliseconds and that the chopper pilots never knew what hit them as a monstrous alien ship appeared seemingly out of thin air just behind it and fired, millions of dollars detonating in an otherwise movie-like spectacle, breaking into million pieces.
Pieces that then followed the gunfire showering onto them.
*We're hit! We're hit! Main rotor losing power! Fuel lines cut!*
*Wilson, emergency landing! Emergency landing!*
It was futile to remind him, as he knew perfectly what to do. At least, in normal conditions - but with those ships around, who knew how long would his nerves have lasted? He himself was trembling and beginning to panic, while the rest of the squad was now either crying or praying.
*OH GOD! THEY'RE JUST BEHIND US! EYAAAAAAH!*
The pilot shouted in total panic and he knew they were lost. Yet he kept his eyes open: he was going to look at death square into face.
That was his duty.
But an explosion above him sent him into complete confusion: he was on the metal floor, unable to feel anything, and then his sight faded away as he became unconscious.
*
All that was left for them now was to find some other way around, wasn't it? But the HEV automapping had a different opinion.
"So, what now?"
"Not many ways around... None in fact. Wait! There's a garage not far from here."
"And what do we need one for, Gina?"
"An HEV. Follow me."
An HEV? He expressed his doubts.
"But isn't what we are wearing now?"
"Yes, and no. This is a mark four. What we need is an old mark two. A real HEV, you know, Hazardous Environment Vehicle. That thing is so heavily armored we would be confortable in proximity of a nuclear explosion."
"THAT protected?"
"Yes, or so I... heard." Heard, of course, from the voice inside her head.
The voice. As they turned back and went for
the hangar, she had somehow relaxed enough to allow thinking. And she thought as she did
almost every day about that voice. She didn't know exactly where it came from, except no
one else could hear it and it spoke directly to her mind. And as every day she feared that
this voice was just herself going completely insane. And as every day she figured out she
was perfectly normal - except for that detail.
And she began fearing that this voice was someone else who could 'see' all she was, all
her thoughts, all the objectively meaningless things she kept inside her.
Like her most secret, most intimate and unfortunately utopic dream.
Then she figured out her MP5 was at ready, and she had just mowed down another slave trying to creep up behind her from a service door. Two more came from around a corner directly in front of Gordon who stopped them both with a single shotgun blast each. Flicking the shells inside the weapon, one by one, as fed by the HEV, he then proceeded to scan the tunnel beyond.
"Say, Gina..."
"Yes?" She was still feeling a little dazed. She shouldn't be allowing herself to think, otherwise the memories will start coming back and the voice will get more control and...
"Around this morning, every time I saw one of these monsters the HEV produced voice messages and a scan. Lately there has been nothing."
"Obvious, you turned it off."
The scanning turned up nothing, and they proceeded, silently followed by the professor and the security guard, probably beginning to fear the two as well as the monsters.
"I didn't. I don't even know how."
"You do. Day five, lesson eleven. HEV messages control." She had trained enough people to know the entire schedule by memory.
"I, uh... Nevermind." In the
months that had passed he had completely forgotten about many of the suit's features; even
if he was a quick learner, lack of practice in the end gets the best even of that. He
didn't practice because he didn't care, as nothing could go wrong... Just like every
object could be approximated by a material point. Reality and theory never match, because
you can't theorize the unexpectable - and reality is the unexpectable by its definition.
Still, he dismissed the problem as a glitch, after all he had seen more than his fair
share of equipment malfunction and the mark fours were still under heavy prototyping.
Their steps were echoing in the tunnels, as they had been for a while as everyone was silent for one reason or another. But the garage was near, clearly visible by a large door-gate on the tracks and a smaller normal one on the luckily wider ledge they were walking on.
*
A nitrogen-cooled microprocessor, hosted where its heart would be was the thing living, couldn't of course see the external world. But the laser based triangulation device in the tip of its head could effectively translate it into parameters for its core program. As of now, there were several, rough parallelepipeds of solid materials over and around it, and something under the influence of kinetic force had attempted damage of the outer shell.
So the program processed its parameters and the whole idled, as directed, fifty thousand billion teracycles. But now the wait was over, and the baricentric engines returned efficiently and effortlessly the main body into normal movement mode. In the while, its surroundings were codified, parsed and confronted with the relative direction of the source of the signal it was directed to track.
In less than sixteen cycles, the movement route was determined: For fifty engine cycles, ninety degrees negative in respect to the current relative position of the magnetic pole; for nearly a hundred billion teracycles, activate vertical movement engines directing horizontal bias by ten steps negative; for another hundred billion teracycles, verify ground contact. All was going perfectly as programmed...
*
Several unrythmical and distant thuds could be barely heard coming from somewhere far from them, but only Winslow noticed and instinctively discarded them.
They had entered the garage, a seemingly abandoned storehouse that was yet still dimly lit as the tunnels outside. There were two floors, one on which they entered and another one, much bigger, running at a higher level but concentric to the first which was for the most part covered by the electrified tracks, which ended in what appeared to be an elevator platform. They climbed the ladder close to that platform, and looked around.
Johnston sneezed. "Damn dust. This place looks really abandoned."
"Yes, but..." Gina was looking around. On this floor were more tracks, again apparently still electrified, but there were several wood bridges crossing over them. Most of these tracks ended in wider platforms over some of which lay semidestroyed trains like the one they rode in. She was about to get desperate, when she noticed that one of the platforms had something covered with a with cloth.
"This shape..."
She approached and tried to uncover it, but the cloth was too wide to be effectively lifted alone and the others came to help. Underneath it was what could've been a vehicle designed by someone like M.C. Escher: a cylinder with wheels all over its surface, a large grilled fan at one and and a drill of the same size at the other.
"Well, it's an old mark one. We'll have to make it be enough."
"You mean... We're going to use this nightmarish thing?"
"Any other choices?" They all knew there were none.
"OK, let's hope this thing works at least. How do you enter it, anyway? It looks pretty sealed."
"There's a trick to it, yes... OK, in mark twos you just find..." she searched the wheels around the tip "Yes, this one." She moved a wheel with ease, and behind was a handle which she pulled and then turned. A long hiss followed, and finally an invisible door slowly opened to reveal the interior.
Inside were seven seats, six for passengers and one for the pilot; yet, he noted, less than half of the thing's length was used for the cramped cabin - yet no visible doors led behind.
"Let's go. I know how to drive this thing."
"How can you say for sure that this thing still works?"
"Because the door opened, and if that happens then the nuclear reactor we've got behind is still working."
Nuclear reactor... The three shivered but climbed aboard while Gina began starting the machine up.
"This is gonna be a rather bumpy ride, so don't forget to fasten the seatbelts."
They did, as the machine slowly came to life and soon what was visible of the exterior through the several small windows began moving - visibility that wasn't high, although higher than it could appeared as the windows were invisible from the outside.
Slowly, at first, but soon after they were speeding at well more than thirty kilometers per hour straight for the floor below.
"Gina, you aren't going to..."
But she was, and they hit the edge at full speed.
He gripped to his seat, but found that his fear was unjustified as the machine dived down and touched ground with about the same effort that a car goes over a shallow gap in the road.
And so they moved, faster and faster, almost recklessly until they dived into the water creating literally a storm of thunderbolts. Two short wings were now visible outside the HEV, having appeared almost from nowhere, and they were moving underwater almost in slow motion; yet, less than ten seconds later they were back on dry ground in a large room, speeding towards a mined tunnel.
*
He opened his eyes.
He was outside, or at least under a bright light, he couldn't tell for sure as his vision was blurred. But he heard something.
It was distorted, almost distant, and he knew it was one of them and that he was already dead...
*
*Foxtrot here, sir! They entered something reported as being a garage and are now moving at twenty times previous speed towards your position. Over.*
"Roger that, Foxtrot. Anything else?"
*Yes, sir. Last reinforcements are inbound. And... we are receiving strange signals, sir. Something is violating Black Mesa airspace but the computer cannot identify the source. Over."
A shiver passed on the General's spine. UFOs? At this point, he couldn't discard anything at all as equipment malfunction. "Keep me posted... And have level two reinforcements put on yellow alert. SO over and out."
That scared the rest of the squad worse than the monsters. Level two reinforcements meant enough people for a full-fledged, albeit small-scale, war.
Well, that was a problem for later. As of now, they had a revenge to take; and they had mined so many tunnels that little could have remained of them at all. Still, they remained to see the fireworks as their location allowed for a quick extraction anyway.
But when the first set of mines exploded, no one cheered. They had to be dead for that.
Then another set.
Third one.
Fourth.
Fifth and last. They were here!
*
The tripmines' explosions bothered the vehicle as an affectionate cuddle, and they continued onwards. The map said they were nearing the central hub.
"Hey, we got company!" Gordon almost laughed as two soldiers had somehow tracked them and were now chasing them on a train. Inside here they were nigh invincible, and not even the rocket launcher one of them was holding scared him - as opposed to Johnston and Winslow who had sit tight, motionless with eyes well shut through the entire trip.
For an instant he remembered that it should've been the same for him, after all this was almost a rollercoaster and the only time he had rode one he almost had an heart failure.
Instead, he was almost having fun... But this wasn't the time for deep thoughts. They quickly shaked their chasers and going towards a dead end where they slowed down.
"Now what?" he asked.
But the answer came from itself as they began lifting.
"Wow, it can fly too?"
"Nah, I just activated the remote platform activation. This is a lift."
And they climbed, and finally resumed their run.
*
...But just then, the sound began being more human. He though he had distinguished a five, and a little (seconds? minutes? He couldn't tell) later, the noise was fully distinguishable. "One. Two. Three. Good, good... This one is out of danger!"
But his vision remained blurry and his reasoning confused. Then he began feeling something, and somehow he knew he was being moved.
*
The central hub was just a twisting maze of tunnels interconnecting at different heights. But navigating it was not a problem with their vehicle, and within ten minutes they were out.
"We should check this 'laboratory' for survivors."
"I don't know if it's a good idea, Gordon..."
"We HAVE to try. We can't leave everyone to die down here!"
He had a point. Too many had already died and more were going to suffer the same fate. They couldn't save everyone, of course, but it was their duty as human beings to save as many lives as they could.
The vehicle steered right, as opposed to the left where their salvation lay, and followed it until they reached an indentation in the laboratory, or at least that was what it appeared on the map, and exited their vehicle. No one was around, and the entire laboratory appeared to be little more than a large piece of concrete running from the floor to the low ceiling, sporadically interrupted by wide metal doors.
"Who are you?"
As soon as they had disembarked a voice creaked over a speaker.
"We're survivors from around the complex. We've come to try and rescue you!"
There were several seconds of silence. Then one of the doors opened.
"You are human all right. We're letting you in."
Beyond the door was a person, in the distinctive sterile white overalls of a doctor. And above him, a turret was aimed at them.
"Forgive our paranoia, but you can never know whom to trust in days like this."
He gestured for them to follow him, which they did. They entered a place that, weren't for the whirring of the turrets built at every entrance, felt like the eye of the storm.
"This used to be a pharmaceutical laboratory, we think, but we've converted it into an infirmary."
And this was confirmed as every room they glanced into was filled with beds, which in respect were filled with bandaged people. A few doctors were moving around the corridors, checking the rooms for their patients' conditions.
"But you said you wanted to rescue us... May I ask how?"
"Well, there's an escape route not far from here. I don't know how many we can bring, but it's our only hope."
Then, one of the doctors ran past them. "They've found a live one! This one's a military!"
A military? They all turned to follow the man who approached and opened one of the entrances.
Two more people, a doctor and a security guard, were dragging a man in a white urban combat mimetic suit, his face covered by a gas mask.
"How is he?"
"He seems rather fine" commented the doctor on the salvage team. "No external damage, and I think he's conscient. Let's check for any haemorrage."
The man was quickly brought into one of the rooms, where he was undressed and thoroughly examined. Ten minutes later the verdict.
"It's a miracle, but he's unscathed. He'll make it with a few achings and little else."
Now, all it remained to decide was whether this was good or bad news. Gordon searched the pile of the soldier's suit.
Yet immediately something struck him as being odd: this, somehow, he knew was not standard issue armor. This thing was different. Much more advanced... Then he found his dog tags: Shepard, Corporal Adrian Shepard.
"Wait, he's waking up now."
Gordon turned and looked at the semi naked man now sitting on the table. He had already met him.
*
From hunter to prey it seemed. The man in the orange HEV, who had stumbled onto his base in sector D hours before, was now looking at him through the sights of an MP5. He remained frozen, almost widemouthed, awaiting his death.
Then someone else intervened.
"Gordon, he's unarmed for God's sake! He's not going to do anything!"
"This bastard is the leader of the soldiers! He wiped out half of sector D!" He was really shouting now.
The woman was in a blue HEV. If he was so good with weapons et al as he had seen, then she had to be...
"Then you don't get it, don't you? Kill him and you'll be just a stupid murderer like him!" She was shouting back.
"...The GRS..."
Gina stopped bickering, and slowly Gordon's rage subsided as she turned to the man.
"You are the GRS, aren't you?"
"I won't even begin to ask how the hell you know that... But I am, yes."
"And you're trying not to kill me?"
"Well, I'm trying hard to find a reason not to."
"Then I owe you a few explanations."
"You sure as hell do!" Gordon put his weapon away, but was still restless.
"Uh, could I have a coffee or something? I've got a splitting headache..."
A bullet would solve his problem, thought Gordon, but he restrained himself. Yes, Gina was right. He was becoming a monster, and he knew it. He knew it all along.
One of the doctors handed him a pill and a glass of water which he accepted. A coffee would have felt better, but the pill was certainly going to be more efficient.
"OK. From the beginning. My mission was to find you, while eliminating any scientists I found."
"And why?" Gordon asked, still rather uneasy.
"Well, as for the scientists I don't know. They don't tell me much, believe me. I don't even know for who I work for, it's all too top secret even for me."
"Sure..." breathed Gordon.
"I know how you feel. But I do know something: these monsters you probably have seen around are aliens from another dimension, and the only thing we can do to stop them is using a GRS."
"OK, using me. But how?"
"I have no idea."
This was too much for Gordon. His attempts to calm down were having the worst, and he snapped with the shotgun pushed right into the man's jaw.
"You talk, you little piece of crap, or I'll blow your head OFF"
"Gordon..."
"Look, mister, I know how you're
feeling - and I see that too. But blowing my head off won't change what I know."
Shepard was sweating cold. Soldier or not, questioning was the place that broke every one
of them up.
"He's sincere, Gordon."
That didn't calm him much. But it was enough to concentrate his attempts so as to leave the man be.
"Look. I was told you could not cooperate with us no matter what, but it seems they were wrong. Now, I can contact my boss and tell him you will cooperate and then we can just reach the Lambda sector peacefully, do the dirty job and be home free. Deal?"
"And who the hell would be your boss?"
"His codename is D, he has a rather short temper and is aided by a slimy guy codenamed G. That ends all I know."
"Wait a second, G? Gina, we're trouble so deep you can't even begin to understand. Let's get to Lambda ASAP."
She looked at Gordon. He was uneasy, but he knew he would follow her. There was just one more thing.
"Let's suppose I believe you as Gina does. There's an escape route nearby, why don't we all escape and leave it be?"
"You don't understand, mister...?"
"Freeman." he snorted.
"Mister Freeman. We can't escape from this. We either end this here and now, or we can wave the planet goodbye. I have been given an estimate of three days until the aliens can create a portal big enough for their main invasion force. And then nothing on earth will be enough to stop an army of hundred of millions of them... Wait a second. Where you found me... Was there one of the monsters there? In a metal and glass case?"
The security guard that carried him in answered.
"Well, a metal and glass case, yes, cracked. But there was nothing inside."
Shepard sighed.
"Well, we had to meet them anyway."
"Why is that? It may have just run to the other side."
"From what I know, it may not... It was supposed to track you down, miss...?"
"Gina Andrews."
"Miss Andrews. It had to track you down, but only when kept under a special leash thing. Without it they said it was... unpredictable."
"Who said that?"
"The scientists who performed the operation. I have no idea of the details, but it's supposed to be able to track you down somehow and..."
Then, far behind them, one of the turrets came alive. Hundreds of rounds were fired in seconds by the six barrels, but were followed by a inhuman growl and several, high pitched sounds.
Gordon and Gina rushed to the source, but were largely preceded by Johnston who in a surge of heroism and recklessness was firing his .357 Colt Python revolver at the monster.
"DIE, FREAK!" he shouted, less than a second before a stream of eight high speed orange projectiles streamed through him, passing through his light armor like it was butter and piercing the door behind him.
"NO!" Gordon turned the corner, and welcomed the thing with his shotgun. It was aberrant, much more than anything he had seen so far: the size and looks of an orc, except thoroughly armored and with a third arm protruding from the chest. And of the remaining two, one was free and repulsing with the same thick and long fingers of the third one, and the other was just a revolting weapon made of flesh.
And the head, with a mouth big enough that looked like it could swallow a cat whole, was protected by the same armor that surrounded most of the thing's body, something so shiny and reflective Gordon saw his reflection in it as in a mirror.
He fired the shotgun in automatic, yet as all the turret's and Johnston's rounds they deflected over the armor. Eight shells, and the thing hadn't even so much as flinched.
Then it fired, one by one, these orange hornets streaked like flies. He rolled out of the incoming fire, but five of them corrected its trajectory and splatted onto the suit's shields. Eighty percent remaining. It was going to be a tough battle.
He ducked in the intersecting corridor relative to the monster's, and he was just opposite of Gina. The thing looked confused, alternatively looking left and right, but the indecision lasted for little more than a second as he went left for Gordon.
Gina attacked from behind.
"Stand clear! Everyone stand clear!" she shouted, and after a second she fired a 30mm grenade on the monster, the explosion imbalancing it, and followed with a second one that definitely sent it to the floor.
But it didn't do damage, as it was already beginning to stand up.
Then, from behind her, an human shout.
"eeeeeeeeeeeyAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
A white mass threw itself over the thing. The monster seemed unprepared for a second, and for Shepard it was enough to unload all six of his Desert Eagle's rounds in its mouth, reducing the brain and its host in pieces and filling his hands and arms in green blood.
The thing had to remain motionless for almost a minute before everyone realized it was dead.
"We were lucky the internal armor was removed for the brain operation. Now, if you don't mind..."
He entered the nearby bathroom, and vomited loudly several times.
*
"We have reviewed your failures, D. We have concluded that these latest incidents could not be foreseen, and since your operation is priority A, you will receive reinforcements. Do not fail us any more, or you will know the consequences."
The transmission, once again, was terminated. He knew they could have replaced him easily, and they never made a secret of that, but for some reason they still trusted in him. Was he the best they had, then? He tried to believe that. He needed all the cheerfulness he could muster to handle this thing. First the satellite, then Shepard. Things were going down the toilet pretty damn fast.
One of the soldiers approached him, undoubtedly to relay more bad news.
"Sir, I have contact from Shepard!"
For an instant, D became angry for the bad news. Then he realized they weren't bad. He just followed the soldier - what was his name again? He never remembered. Not that names mattered much to him, only competency.
And despite all, Shepard was competent.
*Shepard reporting, sir. The GRS is here.*
"What do you mean, she's there? Is she in custody or not?"
*Negative on custody, sir. She is not hostile.*
Not hostile? Not recklessly hostile towards enemy soldiers? Was there then a possibility that their intelligence was indeed right, and she didn't know he was an enemy to her?
"Good. But we can't airlift you. The sky is hot, corporal, hotter than we can handle."
One of the scientists approached the radio. D was annoyed, but that reminded him the other problem.
"What is your location, Shepard?"
*Uh... Where are we?* he asked to someone else. *Sector F underground* reported another voice in the background.
"Perfect! That's close to..."
"Shut the hell up and go back working!" he yelled at the scientist.
"Shepard, there's another reason we need you to go on foot. We need you to reach missile silo number... 12-H and launch missile Lambda two."
*Twelve-H, Lambda two. Copy that.*
"To reach that you must cover Aquadome two, should be around your location. Uh, scrap secondary objective and ask around. After that, you must get to the old industrial sector and activate satellite uplink from Lambda two and Lambda complex, and finally make your way over here. We will be getting reinforcements soon, I'll see what I can send your way."
He hesitated.
"This is half the heart of our plan... Good luck, soldier. Over and out."
*
"So, it's back all the way where we started."
"Seems that way. Well, the faster we get moving, the faster we end this mess. I'm coming." Gordon said, and both Gina and Shepard knew he had all the right and skills to.
"I'm not," said doctor Winslow. "I'd be a weight. But anyway, to reach the missile silos from the Aquadome follow the signs for laboratory Alpha. Once you reach that there will be an exterior access, and you just cannot miss the silos then. For the uplinking station, you're on your own I'm afraid."
"Well, thanks for the help. I hope," Gina then said to the rest of the people gathered around the radio table "I hope that when this is all over we'll meet again. Goodbye."
"Farewell, and good luck!", "Good luck!", "Catch me then and I'll offer you a round!" One by one these strangers united in desperation saluted them.
And finally, the now trio climbed aboard the HEV and left, and left was the same direction as they turned, away from the safety they thought they could find by continuing ahead, and returning all the way back to the flooded tunnel, from which they emerged only to be confronted again with the black metal monster.
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