Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.
(A/N: Hhgbh gets many thanks for beta work and a happy birthday salutation!)
The Black Mesa Incident
Chapter Twenty One: "We Are Pulling Out"
As the train thumped him around the bench on which he sat, Shephard wondered if it was just the circumstances of the day that left this ride so bumpy, or if the workers at the Black Mesa facility got about like this every day. If they did, his respect for them shot up ten fold. Which, admittedly, wasn't much to begin with. The once soothing voice that came over the speakers stopped and started at random intervals, computer glitches making it go faster and slower at every turn of the train.
"This train is… I-I-I-I-I-inbound… SECTOR C… t-e-e-e-e-e-e… laboratories."
He probably would have found it funny if he wasn't clinging on for dear life.
The train went through a large tunnel before jolting to a halt at the bottom of a platform that gradually started going up, spinning around as it went. The effect was a bit dizzying, and Shephard focused on the gap on the floor in front of him where a disabled logo had been painted.
People in wheelchairs use these? And don't die?
Shephard was impressed - if not a little bewildered - by that fact. The platform came to a halt at the top before the train continued on, this time attached to a rail above his head, leaving Shephard with the not exactly pleasant sensation of floating in midair. An endless chasm yawned out below him, welcoming anything that fell into it with a velvety blackness.
He could see another train going about its' business (whatever that was at a time like this) below him, travelling along another rail from a tunnel on his right to another on his left. Then his eyes drifted to the destination that made him smile beneath his gas mask; a station platform. Within a few minutes the train was slowing down, ready to allow its' single, somewhat train sick passenger to disembark.
"Now arriving at-"
A sudden burst of static interrupted the angelic voice as the train came to a gradual halt beside the platform. Shephard levered himself up from his bench - having been reluctant to do so until the train had come to a complete stop - and walked to the automatic door. At least, he assumed it was automatic, since it had closed behind him earlier and didn't have any obvious door handle or control pad near it. But nevertheless, the door didn't open. He took a step back, and another one forward, thinking that the sensors were probably broken.
The door didn't open.
With a low growl, Shephard went about crawling through the door, since there weren't any windows blocking his way. In fact, none of the trains seemed to have windows, which made Shephard a little curious about the mortality rate of a place like Black Mesa. It seemed like it was a death-trap long before alien monsters started making their way in. With a few more stumbles and curses, Shephard managed to clamber awkwardly through the top gap of the door, falling forward and ending up on his back.
He closed his eyes and managed a sighed 'fuck' before heaving himself to his feet and walking to the exit of the platform, shaking his head at how foolish this place was making him look. Part of him was glad none of his fellow soldiers were here to see it. As soon as he took one step forward, the door to the train opened smugly behind him. He looked back to the offending exit with a scowl. If trains could smirk…
He tightened his grip on the red and rusted grey wrench in his gloved hand before turning again. Another few steps, and the already familiar noise of a teleportation event sounded behind him. Shephard whirled around with the wrench, easily catching the brown alien in the bottom of the jaw (which happened to be its' mouth), sending teeth and yellow-green blood spraying as it fell backwards.
Another teleportation, this one from the train. Shephard looked up to see it stood on the roof of the train, and it only took a few seconds to take in the tableau before it before green electricity began to gather between its' spindly hands. Kneeling, Shephard picked up the unconscious body of the alien before him, and, with technique and strength honed by years of training - not mention some natural talent - tossed the body at the other creature just as it fired.
Yellow blood exploded out of the body of the creature as the electricity pumped into it, slamming it back into the wall behind Adrian. The alien on top of the train did not look happy. Shephard turned and ran to the exit, entering a room with two vending machines on the left. A security guard - this one, too, was overweight - had a hand through the smashed glass of one of the vending machines, struggling to snake his arm up to reach the appropriate snack. When he noticed Shephard staring at him, he seemed to blush in embarrassment for a moment before finally deciding that he was proud of what he was doing.
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a quarter I could borrow, would ya?"
Shephard felt like responding with a very loud 'What the fuck is the matter with you?' but instead opted to be a bit more concise.
"There's a very angry alien coming around the corner."
The security guard seemed a little put out by this information, and reluctantly removed his arm from the broken vending machine.
"All righty," he sighed, slipping a Desert Eagle pistol from his hip holster. He walked past Shephard, gun dangling idly by his side. They way he moved it was like his nagging wife had asked him to take a spider out of the bath. As he reached the entrance, the alien turned the corner. Before it even had a chance to register the porky threat in front of it, the security guard had raised his weapon and blasted a sizeable hole in its' head.
After a quick blow on the barrel, the guard put it away again and returned to the vending machine, merely offering a wink to Shephard by way of acknowledgement.
The HECU soldier watched the security guard for a few moments before his newfound ally spoke up again.
"I suppose you're all about getting out of here, aren't ya?"
He sounded extremely put upon.
Shephard just nodded, not sure what words would add to this conversation just yet.
"All righty," he sighed again, abandoning the vending machine with one last loving glance. "I guess I have a better chance of surviving with you, anyway. You a soldier?"
"What else would I be?"
The guard laughed. "True enough, buddy. True enough." He extended a hand. "Anyway, name's Otis."
He hesitated for a moment before responding, but eventually reached out and grasped the hand. "Adrian Shephard."
Otis looked him up and down, bushy moustache twitching from side to side. "You a Corporal?"
Shephard nodded. "How did you know?"
"Meh," he offered, shrugging. "I know my military stuff. Tried out once, ya know. It, uh…" He scratched behind his ear and avoided Shephard's gaze. "It didn't work out so well." Suddenly, he snapped back to reality, smiling at Shephard. "Anyway, let's get goin', huh?"
The balding security guard moved to the stairs opposite with such assurance, Shephard almost didn't say anything.
Almost.
"Do you know where you're going?"
"Nope. But that's the only way we can go, so… that's the way we go."
Shephard couldn't say much to that, and so just settled for a silent nod and followed along.
A zombified security guard awaited them around the corner, but Otis took care of it faster than Shephard could react. So that made the possibility of him knocking the obese security guard out and taking his weapon all the more difficult. Not that Shephard would, but he needed to be prepared for the eventuality that the guard might turn on him. Who knows? That other security guard, Clancy, had said there were rumours that the military weren't there to rescue the people in the facility.
But if that wasn't the case, there was only one other explanation, and it didn't sit well with Shephard. The whole idea of 'eliminating witnesses' had always stank of bureaucratic nonsense to him, and he had always wondered what he would do when faced with a direct order. What wins out? Duty or morality?
Fortunately for him, it was a dilemma he had never been forced to confront. But now, the odds were getting higher and higher that he might have to make a decision like that before the day was done. He tried not to think about it and focused on the task at hand. But right now, Otis was pretty much obliterating any competition that came their way. A zombie and five of those head-sucking things had attacked them by the time they reached a locked door, and Otis had blasted away each and every one of them.
The corridor leading to the locked automatic door had no light to speak of, but Shephard could make out scorch marks where the light fixtures would have been. He guessed that it was probably the work of one of those electricity aliens. A window on the corridor wall beside him displayed the room beyond, and Shephard could make out the helmeted silhouette of a security guard along with a scientist beside him. At least, Shephard assumed it was a scientist. Even with his infrared goggles active, he couldn't see much through the safety glass before him. Otis peeked through the window with him, cupping his hands over his eyes as he pressed his face to the glass.
"Shouldn't we-?"
Shephard put up a silencing finger. They were saying something.
"Have you seen the new IG88?" the guard asked inside asked idly, sounding bored as hell.
The scientist with him, who was sat on a swivelling chair with his back to a desk, shook his head. "No, I haven't. But a friend of mine-"
A sudden burst of green light off to the left distracted them. Whatever it was, it was stood just behind the locked door on Shephard's left.
"What's going on?" Otis asked, trying his best to press his face further into the glass and see around the corner.
The security guard was having a similar reaction. "What the h… what the hell is that, doc?"
"I don't know. I've never seen that species before…" the scientist replied as he got out of his chair, sounding so curious is made Shephard angry. How can people in so much danger be so stupid?
The unseen creature emitted a series of whirrs and buzzes that sounded like an alien language, but Shephard couldn't be sure. It could just as easily have been a mating call. A football sized bolt of energy sprang out from the creature, hitting the security guard in the stomach. Blood spattered out from behind him, spraying on the wall. The guard lost none of his vigour as he whipped out his handgun.
"Don't worry, sir, I can take him!"
Another blue bolt hit him in the head, silencing him. He fell back against the wall behind him peacefully.
The creature made its' move, bounding over to the scientist. Shephard couldn't make much of it out other than the fact that it had two legs, four arms and a head that seemed to extend from its' chest. It intercepted the scientist as he made a desperate lunge for the window Shephard and Otis looked through.
"No! I don't want to die!"
Clawed hand wrapped around him, pulling him close before a burst of green energy teleported them away again. The glass in front of them smashed instantly, and they both put up their arms in front of their faces instinctively. When no cutting pain sliced into his arms, Shephard lowered them, and saw that the glass had simply fallen limply to the ground, as though dropped from some great height.
Without waiting to see if Otis was okay, Shephard climbed through the broken window frame, walking over to the fallen security guard. After a quick check that the guard was in fact dead, Shephard scooped up his Glock handgun, taking any ammunition and slipping it onto the clips onto his belt.
"Those poor bastards…"
He looked around at Otis, who had since managed to make his way into the room. He was looking at the dead body beside Shephard. Suddenly feeling like he was intruding, Shephard got to his feet and walked to the corridor beyond, letting Otis do whatever he needed to do. He watched as the security guard knelt by his fallen brother-in-arms and closed his eyes with his hand. Shephard felt a little ashamed for not doing so himself.
The bald guard stood up, and after a heavy sigh, he walked to where Shephard was waiting, pistol clutched firmly in his right hand while his wrench dangled from the other.
"I'm sorry."
Otis just nodded. "Let's keep moving, I think."
Shephard nodded right back at him, this time feeling a little more confident about leading the way now that he was armed with something more than a wrench and a knife. They turned a corner to the left, ending up in a far better lit corridor with a platform at the far end. It was at the bottom of a shaft that extended diagonally up in front of them, a control panel erected at the side of the platform confirming that it was an elevator of some sort.
They stepped on and activated it. Surprisingly, there were no glitches, and it took them up without a hitch. The sound of submachine gun fire from the room above made them duck down together, weapons at the ready.
When the noises stopped, Shephard didn't feel much better. Eventually they reached the top, and one of the brown electricity aliens awaited them, one dead beside. Two soldiers lay dead in front of it, their weapons scorched and useless. Without so much as a nod to each other, Shephard and Otis opened fire on the creature, ripping it apart with bullets.
They stopped to take a breath.
"Soldiers," Otis said, nodding to the bodies around them. "Looks like we're getting close to reinforcements, I'd say."
Shephard tended to agree with that assessment.
An automatic door in front of them stubbornly refused to open, and after some looking around, Shephard saw an air vent beside them above a HEV charging station. Finding that his PCV was still at 15, Shephard charged it up until the station ran out of power, putting the PCV at a much safer 62.
Satisfied, he smashed open the cover of the vent with his wrench and clambered inside. After crawling forward a few metres, he had to stop and wait for Otis to struggle into the vent. He tried to resist the urge to make any jokes. Around his fellow soldiers that kind of joking was one thing, but this was a security guard who could put a high powered bullet up his ass with a Desert Eagle. So he stayed quiet.
After crawling around a few corners, Shephard smashed his way through another vent, bringing them to the other side of the locked door and into a storage room. Sunlight shone in through a window in front of him, and, after dropping down with nary a whisper, Shephard walked over to it. He was greeted by the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
An Osprey, waiting patiently for its' cargo of evacuating soldiers in the courtyard below. Otis walked up beside him and smiled, nodding approvingly to Shephard.
"Our way home, eh?"
Shephard nodded and led the way through a green door, the simplicity of just a doorknob seeming somehow strange to him. In the next room, a Sergeant sat at a desk, talking into a microphone attached to a radio.
"Come in, Cooper. Do you copy? Forget about Freeman; we're abandoning the base. If you have any last bomb targets mark them on the technical map. Otherwise, get the hell out of there." He spotted Shephard as he walked around the Sergeant's chair, and nodded in greeting. "Repeat, we are pulling out and commencing air strikes. Give us targets or get below." He released the button beneath the microphone and stared at it for a few seconds before heaving himself to his feet and looking over at the soldier and his security guard companion.
"Shephard. You've made it," he said, smiling.
"It's good to be here, sir."
The Sergeant looked over at Otis, who was busy staring out of the window at the Osprey below.
"I take it you didn't find Freeman?"
Shephard frowned. "Who's Freeman?"
His superior waved a dismissive hand. "Forget about it, Corporal; we are pulling out. The air strike has started. Get to the hangar while we await evac."
Although he wanted to know more about whoever Freeman was, Shephard simply nodded. Now wasn't the time to start pissing off superior officers. With a light tap on the shoulder, Shephard indicated to Otis to follow him through the next door, leading them into a room with a stairwell off to the left. However, a soldier stood on the opposite side of the room at the entrance to a storage closet had grabbed Otis' attention. A bald scientist with a thin moustache stood quivering in the doorway, hands up in a permanent surrender before the bulky soldier towering over him.
"Where's Freeman? We don't have time to mess around here!"
Breathless, the scientist swallowed loudly before responding, eyes firmly locked on the SPAS 12 shotgun being pressed into his belly. "Please believe me. Freeman could be anywhere!"
"I'm not letting you go until you talk!" With that, the goatee sporting soldier shoved the rifle into the scientist, winding him and knocking him on his back.
Otis rushed over, putting himself between the scientist and the soldier.
"Hey now, just back off. He doesn't know where this Freeman guy is."
The soldier looked Otis up and down, turning his rifle on him. Getting a tense feeling in the pit of his stomach, Shephard started making his way over.
"Do you really think I'm going to believe anything you say? You're all in this together, as far as I'm concerned."
"Look, now," the security guard said, looking like he was about to explode with anger despite the shotgun poking into his chest. "You've got no right to start accusing and beating up these people just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's not right."
The soldier stared at him incredulously for a moment before snorting derisively and returning to the scientist, apparently to continue his interrogation. Otis slapped a hand down on his shoulder.
"I don't think you understood, buddy. I said 'back off'-"
A quick elbow to his gut from the soldier interrupted him, making him double over and back up. He reached for his Desert Eagle, and the soldier spotted the move.
Shephard sprinted at Otis, letting his wrench drop to the floor. "No!"
With quicker reflexes than the security guard would ever have been able to manage, the soldier blasted Otis, the pellets tearing through his head and plastering blood all against the walls behind him. Shephard collapsed to one knee beside the fallen guard. The scientist in the storage closet began whimpering loudly as he backed up. The soldier's turned his rifle on him.
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up right now!"
Teeth clenched, Shephard pulled Otis' Desert Eagle from his loose hand and pointed it at the soldiers' head, the red dot of the laser pointer distracting him from the scientist.
"Step off, soldier."
His eyes were wide in a mix of shock and rage. "What are you doing?"
"I said step off! Right now!"
"You're going to kill me for one of them?" he said, nodding to Otis' dead body with such a look of disgust it made Shephard want to pull the trigger right there and then.
The sergeant burst through the door at the other end of the room. "What the hell are you doing, Corporal?"
"That's just what I was asking him," the soldier asked, the red laser quivering against the bandana on his forehead.
"Sergeant, this soldier used excessive force on a civilian," Shephard said, his eyes never leaving the soldier. When he said 'civilian', the soldier sneered, and Shephard tightened his grip on the trigger.
"Corporal," the Sergeant said slowly, walking towards him with a steady, confident pace, "our orders here are containment. Do you understand me? Containment."
Shephard understood all too well. It was exactly what he was afraid of. The will to fight for Otis' death suddenly left him, and Shephard let his arm drop.
The Sergeant nodded. "Get below. Now."
He nodded only slightly, the gesture barely registering past the gas mask and helmet. "Yes, sir," he said, his gaze firmly set down in front of him.
Shephard quietly walked to the stairway, picking up his wrench as he went and trying to avoid the glares of his fellows. Down below was a garage area that led out into the courtyard where the Osprey sat waiting for him. At least he was going home. With a long breath in, Shephard straightened his back and walked to the exit. A metal door was half closed over the archway of the exit, and he guessed that he would probably have to duck in order to get underneath.
As he approached it, however, the door began to descend. Panicking, he dropped both the Desert Eagle and the wrench as he ran for it. He dropped to the ground in a forward slide, but it was too late. The door slammed down with a haunting finality.
Shephard watched through a small window in the metal door as soldiers from inside the complex poured into the Osprey. Wasting no time, he ran back the way he had come, heading for the stairway. He ran straight into a red steel fire door. There was no way he would move it. Desperation fuelling him, he ran back to the window. The Sergeant and soldier from upstairs ran to the Osprey, apparently having gone a different way that they hadn't told him about.
He slammed his fist against the window. "Hey! Hey! I'm in here! Hey! I'm-"
All the noise he could muster suddenly left him like air from a balloon. A figure he had seen before stepped directly in front of the window. The man in the suit looked in at him, his small smile completely devoid of humanity. He turned and walked out of sight.
"You sick fuck! Get back here! Let me out!" He slammed his fist against the glass. "Let me out!"
The Osprey began to take off.
"No! No, I'm right here! Shit! Shit!"
A mix of desperation, anger and fear filled him as he hit the window again and again, alternating between fists before finally pulling out his handgun and unloading an entire clip into the thick glass.
They barely did anything.
He just stood for a few moments, breathing heavily as he watched the Osprey disappear from view through the frayed glass. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the door.
"Shit…"
The sound of a teleportation behind him quickly jarred him back to reality, and he turned to face whatever it was that had just arrived, weapon at the ready. He cursed loudly when he saw that the pistol was empty, the contents having just been fruitlessly emptied into the window.
The electricity alien in front of him didn't notice that the weapon was unloaded, and batted it out of Shephard's grip with a clawed hand. He looked into the creature's red eyes, and something inside him snapped. He caught the creature in the side of the face with a right hook, making it stumble back. Keeping on it, Shephard stormed forward, grasping both sides of the head and bringing it down into his knee.
Shephard let go of the head, letting it fall to the ground with a cry. It slammed its' hands together, charging up a blast of electricity. He stamped a boot down on the creature's neck, breaking it with a resounding snap that echoed around the garage. Not once looking back, Shephard picked up the weapons he had discarded around the room, reloading and putting away his Glock while taking the Desert Eagle and wrench with him.
Two more of the aliens appeared, one making a wall explode behind it with its' teleportation. With the Desert Eagle, however, they were barely a nuisance.
Walking over to the hole in the wall, Shephard saw that there was enough room for him to clamber inside, and he did so. There was only enough space for him to shimmy along sideways between two walls, a heating pipe beneath his boots making his feet sweat. Eventually he reached the end of the corridor and stepped out into a slightly wider corridor going off to his left and his right. The piercing noise of hissing steam echoed down to him.
Fuck, he hated men in suits.
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(A/N: You know what I've found? A lot of Opposing Force is unashamed filler. There's so many locked doors or blocked passageways that make you go back and turn some crank or flip some switch before going all the way back to the door. So fans of the game might find a few puzzles missing here and there. I've done the same for Blue Shift and Half-Life as well, since puzzles just aren't that interesting to write or read about. For me, anyway.
Next Chapter: Surface Tension.
And it's long.)