Chapter 9 - Is That a Threat?

After the initial retreat back across the canal, things calmed down quickly. Once they had scaled the shore and melted back into the reeds, Daria stopped the team to explain herself. It didn't take much convincing to get them to believe she wasn't hallucinating – apparently the stories about the man in the suit often accompanied the legend of Freeman.

Satisfied that she herself wasn't crazy, Daria split the team into two elements to watch the canal. Jane and Watts split off and covered the approach from the city, while she and DeMartino covered the opposite direction and the road entrance to the station. The split was unusual, with the two sergeants and two corporals grouped together, but she needed a chance to talk to DeMartino.

"Tony..." Damn that feels weird, "Screw it. DeMartino? Do you know what's going on with Jane?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you."

What the hell?

Daria rubbed her eyes out of frustration. "You do outrank her DeMartino, she can't order you not to tell me something."

"Yes, but she can do a damn good impersonation of Janet Barch, and that's just as effective."

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"Spot me?" Watts asked, holding out the binoculars.

"Sure," Jane replied as she grabbed them. "How the hell does spotting work anyway?"

"Well..."

Watts paused to collect his thoughts. He was used to having to make a mental downshift when explaining things to his fellow soldiers, but Jane seemed quick enough to understand him.

"...At the distances we shoot from, a spotter lying next to you can see the shot with negligible parallax. You can see the bullet impacts, while I can't because the kick from the gun is going to throw off my aim."

"So I just tell you you're about six inches to the left and you correct yourself on the next shot?"

"Kinda. We don't measure error in distance, we use angle. The little markings on the scope are based on angle, specifically milliradians. But that's kinda pointless for you, since the binoculars don't have them."

"Good, I always hated trigonometry."

Watts held up a hand. "Hold that thought. Can you get eyes on the sluice gate up the canal?"

"No, but I can look at it through the binoculars." Jane answered with a smirk. She looked in the direction which Watts was pointing his rifle and raised the binoculars up to her eyes. From here, she could see three people struggling along the bank of the canal. They each wore the blue denim outfits the Combine required citizens to wear. In the morning chill, constantly having to enter the water due to the steep shoreline, they were in serious danger of falling to hypothermia.

"I'll radio Daria," she concluded, picking up the radio. She tapped the talk button to send out a burst of static before speaking.

"Daria, there's three refugees coming up the canal."

A hundred yards downriver, Daria rolled onto her side to get a clear view toward Jane's direction. After checking with her binoculars, she caught sight of the refugees.

"I see them. Try to get their attention when they get closer, and tell them to get to the barn."

Jane hesitated before pulling out her Magnum. Lying next to her, Watts felt her weight shift to grab it from her holster, and remembered just how loud it could be.

"Hold on, use my USP. It won't alert the entire Northern Hemisphere."

She considered the option put before her, deciding that Watts was right. Jane re-holstered her gun, and immediately grabbed the USP from Watts' shoulder holster.

"Hey, no grabbing."

"I outrank you on this mission, Probationary Corporal. I will grab whatever I want."

"Is that a threat or a come-on?"

The refugees were within earshot now, based on the fact that Jane could hear their splashing. She stood up and fired two shots in the air, catching their attention.

"Go for the barn!" She yelled, "There's supplies inside! We'll keep anyone dangerous off your backs!"

One of the refugees waved, either out of thanks or just to indicate that he understood. Seconds later all three were climbing the ladder up to the main level.

Alarms started to sound, a sort of electronic bleat that echoed across the landscape. Grey Team was well outside the grid of speakers set throughout the city for that very purpose, but even here the sound could be heard. Above them, the spire of the Citadel began to transform. Massive steel-blue panels large enough to accommodate several games of football at once pushed off of the flat surface and began to rise up the wall, exposing a ribbed structure underneath. Between the ribs thousands, possibly even millions of little black dots flowed out like water. From this distance it was impossible to tell if they were scanners – little more than hovering cameras – or massive gunships. All sense of perceived scale broke down in relation to the Citadel.

"God damn, I've never seen the Citadel lit up like that before." Daria commented. "Whoever they're after is seriously screwed."

"What if they're after us?" DeMartino replied.

"I swear if you just jinxed us, I'll kill you."

Their laughs were cut short when the roof of the barn imploded under the impact of a headcrab delivery pod.

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Back upriver, Watts could see that the dust had cleared enough to see the refugees inside. Two of the refugees had been knocked out by the impact, while the other was obviously too rattled to understand what was going on. She either didn't notice – or couldn't notice – the first of the headcrabs crawling out of the pod. Watts took aim at the creature, waiting for it to pause at the top to pounce.

The alien stopped at the rim. Watts took a breath, held it, and pulled the trigger. There was a sound akin to a a heavy bolt falling into sand, and the sight kicked back, throwing off his view.

"Two inches to the left!" Jane cried out.

Damn damn damn damn DAMN!

Watts quickly took aim at the creature again, taking care to adjust based on Jane's correction. He held his breath, and...

The headcrab lunged just as he was moving his finger on the trigger. It landed on the young woman, latching onto her face immediately. Every member of Grey Team could hear the screams.

Jane gagged, trying to force the knot in her stomach away. She felt a hand on her back.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, that just... You never get used to that."

The radio crackled to life with Daria's voice.

"Alan, could you put her out of her misery?"

"Yes ma'am."

Jane shut her eyes. She really didn't want to see this part. She waited for the sound of the rifle beside her firing again. Instead, on the edge of her hearing, there was a new sound. It sounded like...

"An airplane?"

"What?" Watts asked.

"Don't you hear that?"

Watts paused, listening intently.

"But the Combine doesn't have airplanes," he finally answered.

"Maybe a helicopter or a gunship then?"

"No, they making a thumping sound. This is more like a constant droning."

The sound suddenly picked up a little in volume, as Jane caught movement down on the river. She raised her binoculars, and saw...

"An airboat?"

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Daria was looking through her own binoculars, waiting to make sure that Watts shot the suffering refugee, when a burst of static hit the radio followed by Jane's voice.

"Daria, there's an airboat coming down the canal. The guy driving it is strange though. He's wearing this weird orange and black armor. It's got the Lambda on it."

She wasn't listening however. A man had just walked around the barn – the same man well-dressed man she had seen the night before. As the airboat passed by, he walked inside, and....

Daria dropped the binoculars, looked at the barn, and raised them again.

The man had simply vanished into thin air.

That's enough of this then.

She grabbed the radio.

"Grey Team, this situation is FUBAR. We're moving out."