-1Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.

(A/N: hhgbh not only likes corny puns, but also does superb beta work!)

The Black Mesa Incident

Chapter Nineteen: Welcome to Black Mesa

"…three, four, five…"

Adrian Shephard could hear somebody counting. It was a weedy sounding voice, and not in keeping with the loud, bombastic tones of the soldiers he was usually surrounded by.

"…three, four, five…"

In fact, it sounded more like the nerdy kids from school who he would protect from bullies and (sometimes) pick on himself. Older, obviously but that same nasal tone to their voice, that same almost quivering effect to the way they spoke.

As soon as he heard it, Shephard knew that everything was not all right with the world. He quickly sat up, intense training making him almost instantly aware of his surroundings. An office. Everything white, with an almost silver polished sheen to it. A broken table in the middle of a room, a fallen bookshelf on his left. Blood spattered the floor and walls.

Two of his fellow soldiers lay around him, both of them dead. Without even examining them, Shephard knew a dead body when he saw one. His first dead body had been at age seventeen, and it was something permanently ingrained into every cell in his body. So by age twenty two, he could definitely tell that the soldiers littered around the room were dead. It was a rather morbid skill to have – which his comrades would point out to him on a regular basis – but useful.

Morbid but useful. That was him.

A scientist with a moustache and big, uncontrollable hair was crouched over Richards, whose eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling hauntingly. His lab coat was tossed aside and his shirt sleeves rolled up in a 'let's get down to business' manner. He pumped Richards' chest again, sounding out of breath.

"…three, four, five…"

He pressed his ear to Richards' bulky chest and paused. After a few moments he sighed and gave up, his eyes wandering sadly over to the other body in the room, and then finally, over to Shephard. He looked alarmed at first, put it quickly gave way to relief. When he spoke, however, it wasn't relief that could be detected on his voice, just exhaustion.

"Oh, you're awake. Corporal… Shephard, is it?" Shephard obviously didn't hide his alarm very well, because the scientist waved a dismissive hand in the air to calm him.

"I read the tag on your uniform." He sighed and smiled sadly at him. "I'm glad to see my life saving efforts weren't in vain…" His gaze fell to Richards' inert body, and he gently closed the soldier's eyes. "I can't say the same for him," he continued, his voice a breathy murmur. With a deep breath through his nose, he composed himself and got to his feet, brushing off his black, dusty pants as he did so. His black and white striped tie had been pulled down to allow the top buttons of his shirt to be undone, revealing a sweat slicked chest beneath.

"I'm afraid you have been through a rather serious accident." He couldn't meet Shephard's gaze as he got to his feet. "Most of your friends didn't make it."

Shephard just nodded, barely taking in what was being said as he looked down at Richards. Another dead soldier was sat up against the counter on the right that ran the length of the room. He didn't recognise him. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was only wearing his khaki t-shirt, white and black camo pants and boots. His fingerless leather gloves were also still on his hands, the Velcro straps holding them tightly in place. He looked around the room. Where was his PCV?

The scientist, oblivious to any concerns on his patient's part, continued on. "I had hoped that you soldiers had come to rescue us, but now it seems that we are all in the same…" his voice trailed off for a moment while his eyes searched the wall opposite for an appropriate word, "…situation." He cleared his throat and looked over at Shephard with renewed vigour. "I think I saw a radio out near the crash site where I found you. Perhaps you could go there and radio for help?"

The young soldier rubbed the back of his sore neck, moving the hand up and around his short cropped blond hair in thought. His eyes closed, he nodded.

His companion clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Excellent. Your… combat vest – is that the correct term?"

Eyes still closed, Shephard nodded again.

"Yes, well, it's in the, um…" he let out a quiet laugh, "erstwhile… observation area."

Shephard opened his eyes and looked at the scientist, waiting for more. "Which is… where?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Yes, of course. Follow me."

He turned to the sliding door behind him and slid his ID card through the relevant slot. It pinged affirmatively and the door opened, allowing them through. The scientist talked over his shoulder as he led Shephard into a room with nothing occupying it but a broken cabinet in the far right corner.

"I've forgotten what it was like to have visitors." He walked to some double doors on his left and pushed through, holding them open for Shephard to walk through. The soldier walked past him as he spoke again.

"Not that we got visitors that much before. This place wasn't really a shining light in the Black Mesa's itinerary."

Shephard wasn't listening. In front of him, protected by a glass barrier, his CO was being carried on a stretcher by two scientists. He, too, was dead. They took him around a corridor that went past Shephard and off to the left before they turned their backs to him and to some doors on the right. As they turned, the CO's head lolled around, his eyes still open much like Richards' had been. It almost looked as though he were looking at Shephard.

"This way."

It took him a few moments to gather himself and return to following the scientist, although he did allow one more glance back at the deceased before he disappeared into the double doors.

The scientist led him around a few more corridors, the green colour of the walls reminding Shephard of boot camp. Eventually he led him around a left corner and into a much larger room. A black scientist with greying hair around his temples knelt in front of a small cage – like one usually reserved for pets at the airport – prodding at something inside with a stick. Three tables were on the right hand side of the room, soldiers lying on the first two, a scientist stood between them, taking notes on a clipboard. On the final table at the far end of the room, Shephard saw his Power Combat Vest, helmet, and gas mask. He walked straight to them, glancing over at the bodies on the tables as he went.

At first, nothing seemed amiss, but as he moved closer, he saw that all of the bodies were horribly deformed, their flesh turned to a pink similar to that of a muscle, and some… thing on their head. It was pulsing nauseatingly, like it was suckling on their faces. His eyes were drawn to their chests, were blood had seeped into shirt almost in a straight line going down. The flesh beneath was deformed as well, rising up out of the chest and stomach as though it were being squeezed together.

He reached towards the wound experimentally when his tour guide quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled it away. Just as he did so, the shirt of the soldier before him tore open, revealing a tall, thin mouth that ran from the top of the chest to just above the navel, teeth resembling those of a sharks' lining it.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed to the scientist, his eyes burning into his hosts'.

"You don't… know?"

Shephard pointed to his face and spoke through clenched teeth. "Do I look like I know?"

The scientist just stared into his pale blue eyes for a few moments before swallowing loudly and backing away. It was only then that Shephard realised he had been towering over the man threateningly.

"I, um… there was… an accident yesterday."

"What kind of accident?"

"We…" he looked around, hesitant. "… we don't really know ourselves. All we know is that these… creatures began to appear all over the facility shortly after the cataclysm. Many were killed almost instantly. Eventually, a group of scientists in Hazard Suits managed to signal for the military, which is, most likely, where you come into this equation." He looked as thought he wanted to say more, but thought better of it and avoided Shephard's penetrating stare.

Shephard cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Is that all?"

"How do you mean?"

"Is there anything else I should know before I go out there?"

"No, nothing." No hesitation, and he looked him straight in the eye as he said it.

Satisfied for the moment, Shephard nodded and walked over to his belongings on the table. He slipped on his white camo shirt first, quickly followed by the vest.

"Do you have any weapons here?" he asked, zipping up the front.

The scientist shook his head. "Our security guard downstairs might have one, but I doubt he will entrust it to you."

He searched for any negative tone on the word 'you', but found none. He reached around into one of the pockets inside his green vest and felt the button inside. He slapped a raised circular patch on the vest and squeezed his eyes shut as the needles slipped through his skin and into his spine. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the Heads Up Display fade into view, and he had to blink a few times before everything came into focus. As he waited for the nano-machines from the vest to spread through his system and assess his health, he slipped on his gas mask and helmet.

The scientist seemed to be uncomfortable at the sight of him now.

"Is the gas mask really… necessary?"

Shephard frowned. "Why?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

He would have questioned him further, but Shephard really didn't care about him all that much. The green stats in his peripheral vision clarified. His PCV was at 15, himself at 69. Not too bad considering what he'd been through.

"How do I get outside?"

With a few nervous glances back at him, the scientist turned and pointed. "Turn right out of this room, go down the corridor and turn left through the double doors. Once there, just follow the corridor and you'll get to the doors that lead outside. Clancy will open them for you."

He wondered why the scientist wasn't simply taking him there, but he was getting tired of how fragile and shaky these people were. With barely a nod he strode off out of the room, following the directions he had been given to the letter.

After going through the double doors, the corridor led him to the right, where, on the right hand side, were large observation windows and a door leading into a lab that had what looked to Shephard like an X-ray machine. A soldier, looking similar to those Shephard had seen on the tables, was lying on his back, slowly being moved into the machine on a mechanical trolley. A scientist in a containment suit worked on a control panel nearby.

The soldier stirred and got up off the trolley as it moved into the semi-circular machine, lumbering straight for the scientist. He grabbed his hapless victim by the shoulders and tossed him towards the window, sending him sailing through the air and straight through the glass.

Shephard dodged to the side to avoid the human projectile, whose screams were violently cut off as he collided with the wall opposite. The soldier watched as the monstrous apparition before him walked over the ledge of the broken window and into the corridor with him. With a noise halfway between a high pitched growl and a gurgle, the zombie creature brought his arm back and swung a long, claw fingered hand at him.

With a blur of motion, Shephard brought his left hand up to catch the blow and grabbed the zombie's bicep with his right. He pulled with his right hand and pushed with his left, snapping the monster's arm at the elbow. It howled and back-pedalled away from him. Shephard launched forward and clawed his left hand underneath the creature nestled on the soldier's head. With a powerful right hook to the lower face, Shephard knocked the man back and ripped the little monster from his head, the latter screeching all the way. Disgusted, he tossed it to the ground beneath him and crushed it with his boot. Yellow blood spurted out, covering the toe of the boot.

Slowly, he looked around at the body of the soldier behind him. His face was a burnt dark pink, his skin sunken and rotting away. His eyes, looking permanently panicked, searched the room around him frantically before settling on Shephard. His breathing was laboured, painful. Nodding, Shephard reached forward and put his hands on either side of the soldier's head. With his eyes closed, he twisted, snapping his neck.

After taking a few moments to grieve, Shephard rose to his feet and continued on down the corridor, turning right around the corner

This brought him to two automatic double doors, which opened for him with a quiet hiss. He walked down the stairs in front of him and ducked when he heard gunfire. Peeking over the banister, he saw an overweight, balding security guard – who he took to be Clancy - shooting a zombie in scientist's clothing, yellow blood spurting from its' body until it finally decided to die and fall on its' back.

Feeling no less cautious, Shephard walked down the stairs and directly to the guard, who was having a hell of a time holstering his weapon when he couldn't even see the holster because of his girth. He seemed to have accomplished the task just as Shephard reached him.

"Okay, Shephard, I see you found your power vest. That should keep you safe out there." He spoke with a ridiculously high pitched voice, and Shephard almost suspected him of putting it on as a joke. He had a very thick Canadian accent which didn't help. They both stood around for a few moments, and Shephard began to wonder if the guard had some mental deficiency.

"Could you open the doors?" he asked impatiently, gesturing to the secured doors on his left that led out into another corridor.

The security guard pulled up his belt before thinning his eyes at the soldier. "See, now, I've heard rumours that you soldiers might not actually be here to rescue us."

Shephard cocked his head to the side, his voice deathly quiet.

"What?"

Looking suddenly afraid, Clancy put his pudgy hands up in defence. "Hey now, no offence intended!" He laughed anxiously. "Just… make sure you don't forget about us out there, all righty?" A small, incredibly nervous smile appeared on his face.

Blowing air out of his nose like a bull, Shephard just glared at him from behind his gas mask.

His eyes glued to the floor, Clancy pointed to the retinal scanner beside the double doors. "Okay, I'll let you through now." He rushed over to the scanner with much more speed than Shephard would have thought possible for a man of his girth, and put both eyes to the relevant lens.

After brief pause, the doors slid open, and Shephard couldn't get out of there fast enough, barely hearing whatever it was the security guard was shouting after him. He waited before he was around a corner before he relaxed his pace and started to take his time. They really went out of their way to hire freaks in these places, didn't they?

In front of him, casing for a lighting fixture lay on the ground put off to the side, and a cable dangled from the ceiling, sparks flying from it every now and again. A red toolbox and small ladder sat beside the lighting fixture, and Shephard rummaged around for anything he could find that would suit his purposes. A red wrench seemed to fit the bill, and after checking its weight a few times, he continued on.

Upon turning the next corner, one of the ceiling tiles ahead crumbled, revealing two more of the little head-suckling creatures that had made zombies out of his fellow soldiers. One leapt at him right off the bat, and Shephard swung the wrench around, crushing the creature into the wall and splattering its innards all over it. The second little monster chose that moment to attack. Slicing the wrench down like a sword, Shephard crushed it into the floor just as he had done with the first into the wall.

Without pause, he walked to the door at the end of the corridor. He found himself at the bottom of a stairway. A door stood in the wall on his right, safety glass at the top allowing a view inside the room. The retinal scanner beside it meant that he probably wouldn't be able to gain access, but it wouldn't hurt to take in his surroundings.

It was a reception area, he could tell that much from the huge Black Mesa painting on the wall behind the long, thin desk. A door was opposite said desk, which was also closed. A security guard, far less portly than Clancy, stood behind the desk, talking to a man in a suit holding a briefcase. The man had deathly pale skin and stood so still while he spoke it was almost unnerving.

And he was familiar. Shephard knew him from somewhere. Where had he seen him before?

The man finished his conversation with the security guard, and with a small, smiling glance at Shephard, turned and walked through the door. Shephard banged his fist on the glass, trying to get the security guard's attention. It must have been sound proof, because the guard didn't even acknowledge him. With a frustrated cry, he swung the wrench into the safety glass, leaving only a slight crack on the surface.

With a lingering glare at the door, Shephard walked to the stairs and went up the three stories. An old metal door awaited him at the top, and he pushed his way through, stepping outside. He was on a concrete bridge that overlooked a huge canyon below. In the middle of the bridge, an alien creature that Shephard had seen before lay on its front, riddled with bullet holes and surrounded by dried yellow blood. As he knelt beside it, he remembered.

Waking from unconsciousness, drowsy from a blow to the head, lying beside a kneeling Davies. He had watched as Richards was electrocuted by…

"Green electricity…?"

A building on the opposite side of the bridge had a door that hung open, and Shephard recognised it even from that distance as the small room he had been lying in. Tentatively, he touched his hands to the back of his head. That moronic scientist had probably slowed the healing process by removing his vest. And removing it without proper procedure… it actually was a miracle he was still alive.

He looked back down to the brown creature below him. The black hilt of a military issue machete stuck out of its back. With little effort, Shephard managed to wrest it free and slipped it into the holster he had once had for his own machete. Only God knew what had happened to it, along with his regulation 9mm firearm.

With a thoughtful frown his only reaction, Shephard got to his feet and walked across the bridge and through the door. A doorway ahead of him was blocked off by fallen debris from the ceiling, but a defensive little crab alien creature pointed him in the right direction by emerging from a cracked hole in lower right hand corner. After swiftly disposing of said alien with the wrench, Shephard got down and crawled through the hole, and felt rock beneath his fingertips as he went on through a darkened passage, heading towards the light at the end.

It brought him out in front of a rock face that, along with the rock face on the other side, created a little slide going down on Shephard's left. Two pipes were beneath him, making the journey down to ground level all the quicker. When he reached the bottom he had to slow to halt to stop himself from falling on his face.

He took in the area around him. It was the place where he had first woken up after the Osprey had come under attack. On his left was a secure electrified fence, the remains of his Osprey tangled in its' distorted web. A watchtower stood proudly to the left of the fence, although whatever guard had once stood in it and overlooked the area was now long gone. Alien bodies lay around the wreckage of the Osprey, all of them the same as the one Shephard had pulled his machete from.

He didn't see any more of his fellow soldiers around, although, for all he knew, those soldiers back at the lab with those… thingson their heads could be his fellow soldiers. Being studied by those scientists, poked, prodded, and tortured. Shephard had seen the torment in the eyes of the soldier he had freed from one of those creatures. It was not something he would want to see anyone exposed to, much less for a prolonged amount of time.

Electricity danced along the surface of the fence, preventing Shephard from gaining entry to what lay behind it. He could see a military radio on a table behind it, underneath a canopy. Just like the guy had said. Supply crates were placed all around it, and Shephard hoped he would find a weapon somewhat more useful than a wrench and a knife. Not that he couldn't do some serious damage with those weapons alone, but… he didn't trust these aliens to remain consistent. One minute they're throwing electricity, the next they could be teleporting behind you or something equally unbelievable.

The entrance to a tunnel was opposite the fence, the huge secure doors in the archway parted just slightly to allow entrance. Wrench held up in front of him, Shephard allowed only one last glance at the fallen Osprey before he slipped inside, plunging himself into relative darkness. The large tunnel arched around to the left, and Shephard came across no trouble on his way there. Unlike the entrance, the exit door was wide open, allowing Shephard easy access into the area beyond.

On his left he saw the object of his search; the power generator. A warehouse stood behind the fenced off area. Four pale blue, tall boxes stood inside the electrified fence, light dancing viciously between them. On the far side, Shephard could see a small grey power box attached to the wall with a lever beside it. With a nod, Shephard moved to the gate that would allow him inside.

A sat security guard, trapped inside by the deadly voltage sparking around above his head, looked up at Shephard from inside the generator area, smiling.

"Hello, Mr Soldier Person!"

He moved to the gate and put both hands on it before Shephard could say anything to convince him otherwise. Shephard didn't know if the man was an idiot or just suicidal, but either way, he was roasted in seconds by the electricity. So at least he knew he wasn't getting in that way. A vent cover in the wall in front of him drew his eye. Looking over, he saw a vent cover at a parallel position within the fenced off generator area. He managed to remove it with the wrench without too much trouble and crawled inside. It was almost pitch black inside, and he had to turn on his night vision goggles with press of a button on his gas mask.

The vent shaft led him around two corners going to the left, eventually taking him out into the generator area. Stopping every now and again to allow the electricity to spark off in front of him, Shephard walked to the grey control box and pulled the lever. He could hear the generator powering down as he walked to the gate, kicking aside the charred corpse of the guard in order to allow him to pass.

His wrench idly hanging by his side, Shephard walked back into the tunnel. As he reached the point where the tunnel arched off to the right and back to the fallen Osprey and the radio, a sudden noise made him stop. It sounded like an explosion and a crackle of electricity both at the same time. Green light emanated from around the corner and right behind him.

A low gurgle of a noise alerted Shephard to the presence of something alive both in front and behind him. He slipped his machete from its sheath and whirled around, tossing the knife at his would-be attacker. It tore through the air like a bullet slicing directly into the creature's main red eye with such force that it tossed the alien on its back, dead.

The alien's companion didn't take kindly to this as it rounded the corner, and Shephard turned to face it, tossing the wrench from his left hand to his right. This one was much closer to him, and he recognised it as the same kind of creature he had seen dead on the bridge, and all around the Osprey. Red eyes firmly trained on him, the creature slammed its hands together, and a green glow started to emanate from between them. Green electricity appeared from thin air, drawn to the glow.

Rather than wait for death like the moron Shephard took those scientists to be, he charged forward with the wrench behind him. The creature shoved its hands towards him, and electricity sprang out. Shephard leapt off to the side, rolling and coming up just next to the creature. With an uppercut of a swing with his wrench, Shephard cracked the alien's chin. It cried out and backed up quickly, cradling its injured mouth. Shephard continued forward at the creature and swung the wrench again, this blow hitting with such force that it snapped its neck, sending it flopping limply to the ground.

Without even looking at the bodies, Shephard went back to retrieve his knife and moved on.

Now that the fence wasn't electrified, he managed to make his way over it with little difficulty, paying little heed to the cuts he got on his arms from the barbed wire at the top. The PCV would take care of it in due course. He walked to the radio and found it already on. On the left, he saw a raised concrete platform and two circular grates indented into the ground. The one on the right had a red ladder leading down into the ground beneath it. Suddenly, Shephard had a way out. He returned to the radio, and after some fiddling, he managed to get it transmitting.

"This is Corporal Adrian Shephard, I-"

Someone was trying to contact him already. With another flick of a switch, Shephard started receiving. Machine gun fire and explosions became permanent background noise as the radio spoke to him.

"Shephard, you're alive!"

Shephard frowned. Who was that? There were only a few people from his group who weren't dead. Although it was possible they simply knew him in association with his platoon.

"Listen, we've been cut off pretty bad and orders are coming down to pull out! Repeat, pull out! Apparently they've got other plans for Black Mesa now! If you can make it through the transit system you can probably reach the surface where we are pulling out! Good luck! Over!"

And that was that. Shephard didn't even get a word in edgeways. Not that he needed to. All the information he required, he now had. He went to the ladder and paused as he tucked the wrench under his arm for the descent into the relative darkness below. The words of the security guard rang in his ears.

"Just… make sure you don't forget about us out there, all righty?"

Shephard pondered the concept of going back and telling the people back at the complex where they should go and leave them to it. After all, it wasn't his mission to baby-sit them. Besides, he wasn't much of a leader for people who weren't trained soldiers. But then again… the more time he wasted here, the more likely it was that his fellows would leave without him, and then no-one he had met today would have a chance of survival. No, the best course of action would be to get back to base and inform rescue teams of the whereabouts of the complex.

Satisfied, Shephard made his way down below. He skipped the last few rungs and hopped to the walkway below, the clang almost unnoticeable compared to the gushing water below.

Huge, thick brown pipe extended up from the beneath the water so far below him, surrounding him almost on every side as he walked down the walkway, wrench hanging idly by his side. He stopped when a grey rope like object lowered itself down in front of him. It was wet, and shone against the dim light available. He looked up and switched on his night vision goggles. On the ceiling, so far above him, an alien about the size of a barrel had attached itself, the grey rope looking like it was the tongue of the creature.

He took out his machete and grabbed the tongue with his other hand, quickly slicing it off. With a pained squeal, the creature withdrew. As he continued on down the walkway, Shephard began to feel like he was in a jungle with all the slicing of his knife he had to do.

After some wandering, Shephard negotiated his way out of the sewer system he had found himself in and ended up climbing down some more ladders until he ended up walking around what he took to be part of the transit system. Electrified yellow and black rails hung from the ceiling high above him, doors as big a volcano openings created in the walls.

To think that for some people, this was just the way to work. Every day, back and forth through his amazing tour of machinery. Almost made Shephard envious.

Almost.

He eventually ended up walking through a large doorway into a green lit room. Looking down, Shephard found that the green glow was coming from a pool of toxic waste beneath the walkway. The walkway below him was in the shape of a cross. Two ladders on the right and left hand sides of the 'cross' lead up to a collection of walkways and support girders. The walkway at the top of the room went from the front of the room to the back. Shephard could see two doors on either side as well, and decided that was probably the way he needed to go.

As he walked to the ladder on his right, Shephard saw a large metal yellow box in the upper right corner of the room, black writing reading 'POWER GENERATOR'. In the left hand corner of the room, he could see an observation window. Although what there was to observe in this room, Shephard didn't know. He climbed up the ladder and to the girder that would allow him onto the walkway.

The generator exploded, and alarms sounded. Shephard looked down to the door he had entered through in time to see it close forebodingly. Electricity lanced out of the damaged generator, hitting the stone girder he stood on. He leapt to the walkway in front of him just as the pillar exploded, sending chunks of concrete and dust into the air.

He ran to the door on his right, but it didn't slide open. A red light above the door indicated that it was locked, and a quick glance to the door on the opposite side of the room told Shephard that that one was also locked. He backed up, looking around the room for any other escape route.

The floor below had collapsed into the toxic waste, dislodged by an explosion. The green liquid began to rise. More explosions littered the walkway around Shephard, and all he could do was hold onto one of the support pillars holding the walkway to the ceiling and pray he didn't get blasted.

The electricity stopped, but the alarms continued their repetitive cries, the radioactive liquid below him still rising. He looked over to the observation room, wondering if he would be able to make a jump from the pillar to the room and smash the glass with his wrench. At the very least, he would die trying.

He cricked his neck and prepared himself for the jump, readying the wrench. The liquid was only a few feet below him now. If he was going to jump, it would have to be-

A man walked into the observation room, the familiar suit and briefcase visible even through the distorted reflection the green light was giving the glass. The man just stared at him as the liquid rose beneath him.

He straightened his tie and then pushed a button on a control panel in front of him. The door that had previously been locked beeped affirmatively, the red light turning green. Shephard launched himself from the pillar, sprinting through the sliding door and into the corridor beyond. Without taking a moment to rest, he darted down the corridor and around until he ended up in the observation room.

He was gone. No sign of him. No evidence he was ever there.

Desperately, Shephard looked around the small room, looking for some clue. He turned to the corridor behind the room and saw a closed door at the far end. He thundered down the corridor, his boots echoing loudly as he stomped away. The door slid open for him obligingly, revealing a small square room with a button on the far side. Looking up, Shephard saw two secure doors making up the ceiling. He was in an elevator.

"Where the hell did he…?"

With a frustrated growl, Shephard walked to the button and punched it, activating the elevator beneath him. He ascended in preoccupied silence, barely noticing that he secure doors only just opened in time for him to make it through.

He was in a huge chamber. A tank on his right, presumably filled with some manner of radioactive chemicals, overshadowed him. Behind him was a large circular tunnel for the trains that were a part of the transit system. In front, a ramp lead up to a platform area, where Shephard hoped there would be a train waiting for him.

As it happened, there was, although there was a sizeable gap between the edge of the platform and the open door of the train. Below was what, to Shephard's eye, looked like a bottomless black chasm, and turning on his night vision goggles didn't change that assumption. He tossed the wrench into the train before backing up to the wall. If he was going to make this jump, he didn't need a wrench throwing off his speed.

He kicked off from the wall and sprinted to the very edge of the platform, landing with such speed inside the train he almost continued on through one of the windows. Extending his arms out, he managed to grab hold of the window frames and pull himself back in. The door to the train slid shut, and after some worrying creaking noises, it lurched to life, taking Shephard with it.

The rail beneath him took the train around to the left and through another large, circular tunnel. He slid into one of the chairs and decided to get some rest. Even though they were pulling out, Shephard had no doubt he would need as much strength as he could muster.

Because regardless of whether he saved his life or not, that prick in the suit knew what was going on here. And Shephard had every intention of wringing the information from his pale, scrawny little neck.

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(A/N: Hopefully Shephard's debut lives up to your expectations. If Barney is John McClane, then Shephard is like a mix between Jason Bourne and Jack Bauer. That's what I was going for, anyway. Hopefully you'll be interested in seeing this guy travelling through the Black Mesa facility as much as you were Barney.

So review and tell me:P

Next Chapter: Questionable Ethics)