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

(A/N: Seriously, many thanks and a very Merry Christmas to hhgbh. I even wrote 'crowbar' instead of 'wrench'. Shephard would be ashamed of me. If he was real. And read fan-fiction about himself. Anyway, thank you hhgbh.)

The Black Mesa Incident

Chapter Twenty Three: Missing in Action

The heat coming from the steam pipes was making Shephard sweat in the confined space of the corridor. He longed to remove his gas mask and wipe the layer of sweat that had congealed on his face, but for all he knew, a blast of steam could break out of these pipes at any moment. If seeing the Black Mesa Facility up close had taught him anything, it was that everything was broken and ready to explode.

Eventually, he managed to squeeze his way underneath a pipe that took up the entirety of the thinning alleyway ahead, and crawled in a manner that took him back to his boot camp.

"We'll have you eating danger, and CRAPPING VICTORY!"

What an asshole.

The miniature corridor opened up into a bigger room up ahead. Pipes ran along the wall in front of him, placed in such a manner that they provided a stairway upwards. In the right hand corner of the room where the pipes ended, an air vent cover allowed Shephard some brief hope of moving forward. A door on the right hand wall, only increased the feeling, but moved towards it with great caution anyway.

Desert Eagle at the ready, he edged his way towards the door and wrapped his hand around the door handle. Locked, and from the feel of it, made of a very heavy metal. Shephard had no desire to try and knock it down, and he didn't have an engineer to make the job easier. Hell, he didn't even have any grenades.

A flash of green light bathed him from behind, casting his shadow on the wall. Shephard whirled around and came face to face with another electricity throwing alien. Its' low gurgles became more vicious as it took in the gravity of Shephard pointing a gun into its' eye. Clutching its' claws together, it started charging an attack. Shephard pulled the trigger and blew the creature clear across the room and onto its' back. The cocking mechanism of the pistol locked back, indicating that it was out of ammunition.

With a flick of his thumb, Shephard slid the mechanism back into place and replaced the Desert Eagle with his Glock pistol. After getting a steady foothold on the bottom 'rung' of the pipes, Shephard climbed up to the vent cover and smashed it to bits with the wrench. Feeling conscious of the backpack he no longer had, Shephard crawled into the claustrophobic little hole and started shimmying.

After crawling through a few twists and turns, Shephard found himself at another vent cover, which was similarly dealt with. He climbed out onto a walkway overlooking two giant fans laid on their backs. They were side by side, only the thinnest of metal bars between them going untouched by the spinning blades. There doors at either end of the walkway, and Shephard tried them both before looking to the blades for an exit. He could see past the fans that there was another room below, although would have to walk between the fans and down (hopefully) a ladder to get there.

He cricked his neck and put away both the Glock and wrench, finding different parts of his uniform to tuck them into. Slowly, he slid himself beneath the guardrail and down onto the metal bar. Boot Camp was sure as hell going to pay off today. Although Shephard had to admit, there was a certain difference between balancing on a wooden plank overlooking a pool of muddy water and a metal bar between two giant fans.

Shephard started on his way, arms outstretched to the side like a tightrope walker. The boots sure as hell weren't helping, and he considered going back and trying them on. One of the blades sliced the plastic tip of one of his bootlaces off.

Maybe getting this over with was the way to go.

After nine or ten stops and starts, Shephard reached the far end, and found himself on the smallest of platforms overlooking a ladder that went down to a walkway almost exactly the same as the one he had just come from. The fan on the right, however, only had one blade still intact, the rest lying shattered around it. It didn't seem to be running at full capacity, either. Just below the central structure of the fan, Shephard could see an open vent beneath.

He climbed down the ladder and stood just beside the broken fan, staying just out of reach of the slow but deadly blade. After watching it go around for the sixth time, Shephard dove down on his belly, sliding below the blade and into the duct below. He didn't know how far he fell, since the interior was pretty much pitch black. But once he did land, he knew that it was pretty far.

Thank God he didn't have one of those HEV suits. Those things informed you audibly every time you sustained an injury. Shephard thought he would probably be insane by now if he had to use on of those.

Waiting for the PCV to do its thing, Shephard flicked on his IR goggles and scanned the vent. He could see a light source coming from his left, behind another grate there. Once he felt the cool morphine soothing the pain in his shoulder from the rough landing, he started crawling again. He managed to kick the vent cover out of its' placement, and it landed with an echoing crash.

Not exactly subtle, but stealth was always something Shephard had had trouble with. The room was sparsely lit, the grey floors and dull brown metal of the walls not helping the situation. Even the IR goggles were struggling. In front of him, Shephard could see metal trench built into the ground leading out of a hole in the wall. A semi-circular shield stopped the trench about halfway before the wall. A sign above the hole in the wall read 'DO NOT OBSTRUCT TEST FLAME'.

Shephard took in the rest of the room. It was definitely an 'L' shape, going forward first, and then off to the left. There were some flat metal crates with the words 'DANGER: EXPLOSIVES' written on the side. Shephard made a note not to go near them. He started walking to the corner of the room when he noticed something odd about it, and the light that was being produced from it.

It was organic. But it was unlike anything Shephard had ever seen in any nature documentary. The light was coming from a thin brown stem, the very tip of the plant acting like a light bulb. It didn't radiate any heat, an when Shephard touched it, the light went out and the plant recoiled back down into the ground.

The entire corner of the room had all kinds of fauna and plants around it. Moss, mostly, but pale yellows and whites. He looked to the other corner of the room. It went up in a ramp to another of the trench devices, the same warning of non-obstruction there as well.

A pained, drawn out moan drew his attention to a figure just behind shield of the trench.

Shephard's Glock was out immediately. "Step into the light."

The figure swayed a little. Whoever or whatever it was, it was big.

"Now!"

A hulking zombie unlike any Shephard had seen back at the lab hurled itself out of the shadows, rippling arms outstretched before it. Behind it, several normal (as normal as zombies could be) followed, two wearing scientist uniforms, and the other a soldier's. Whoever this was before, he bore little resemblance to the original. Even the clothing was missing. It was just a big, fleshy mass now, ready to kill anything that came its' way. He could make out a glowing green sack on the back of the body as well, but Shephard didn't even want to think about what the hell that was for. Long, spindly fingers ached to reach him, and Shephard, in no mood to become anybody's dinner, fired off a few shots at the head, remembering that it was a separate organism.

The zombie barely slowed it's approach. Its' wide hand closed around Shephard's gun, gripping his entire forearm tightly before tossing him clear across the room and into the wall at the far side of the 'L'. He just barely managed to keep a grip on the handgun. The other zombies had only just managed to stagger over to the creature's position when it threw Shephard in the other direction, so they seemed a little put out by having to turn around again. It started to come at him again, knocking aside a few explosive crates as it went. His eye instantly drawn to them, Shephard took aim and fired.

A chain reaction explosions started up almost instantly, and Shephard put up a hasty arm to shield his eyes from the blast. The sound of flames diligently flickering away gave him the all clear that he could lower his arm, and he slowly did so. Blood was pasted along the walls and ceiling, mixed with the scorch marks blasted across.

Shephard noticed a new source of light on the ceiling, and looked down the appropriate section of the floor. Some of the explosion had been strong enough to punch a fair sized hole there, and he managed to clear the rest with a few solid kicks from his boot. He lowered himself down, checking all around him for any more creatures that may be lurking in the darkness.

The underground passage was getting most of its' light through two large grates at the far end. Two metal pipes ran along the bottom of the rocky passage, and Shephard struggled to keep his boots on the smooth surface. The sides of his feet constantly seemed to be dipping down the sides, and it got old pretty fast.

Three of the small alien crab creatures were waiting for him just before the grate. Shephard managed to kill two in mid-leap with the Glock, but the third managed to get at his face. The claws of the creature scratched against the lenses of his gasmask uselessly, and gave Shephard plenty of time to free his wrench and crush the crab into the wall.

Using the wrench, Shephard smashed the left-hand grate and dropped through. He landed on an underground road that slanted down and off to the left into some kind of complex built into the rock. The garage door leading into the complex had been forcibly kept open, a crushed military van smoking beneath it. Only a small gap beside the van allowed entrance. Frowning, Shephard looked around. Above him at the top of the hill was a closed emergency fire door, which Shephard knew he had no chance of opening. As he walked down the ramp to the half opened garage door leading into the complex, Shephard noticed something moving out from the gap.

His Glock and wrench both at the ready, he walked down towards the figure. He quickly put them both away when he noticed that it was a human. And not only that, it was a soldier. He ran to the black beret sporting soldier, instantly taking note of the thick trail of blood following him. Shephard knelt beside him, desperately trying to recall any of the basic medical training he was taught. The instant he saw the spike protruding from the soldier's bleeding belly, he knew there was little he could do.

The soldier grabbed him by the cuff of his PCV, pulling him down towards him. "You've… got to get out of here. Listen to me…" he glanced down at the nametag on the vest, "…Shephard…" he coughed. "Those… things… they'll kill all of us…"

His energy spent, the soldier's eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground. Shephard didn't know if he was dead or not, but he knew that there was little he could do either way. Glock held up at the ready, Shephard squeezed his way underneath the warped door and into the parking garage.

Nothing seemed amiss so far, with the obvious exception of the trail of blood made by the soldier behind him. Since it was the only thing out of place, he followed it along the concrete until it turned to the left, eventually reaching a closed garage door. There were two of them, a thin section of wall separating them. The soldier had come from the one on the right, and, judging by the blood stains on the control panel, had managed to close it behind him.

He flexed his sweaty fingers around the grip of the pistol, listening to the creak of his fingerless gloves. A noise from above him drew his attention quickly upwards. Light footsteps pattered against the metal grates above him. The lighting from the upper section was so poor, Shephard couldn't see what was going on. All he knew was that something fast and light was moving up there.

His mouth was suddenly dry, so he swallowed, the noise far louder in his gasmask than he had thought it would be. He reached out and pressed the button.

The door opened with a compliant creak, slowly rising into the ceiling until only the very bottom of it was visible. All he could see was one of the metal frames cars were placed on to allow mechanics to see their undersides. Glock out in front of him, Shephard stepped inside. On the left, behind the closed garage door, a Black Mesa SUV was parked on another metal frame. Stairs behind it led up to a low platform that ran along the room to the right and down another corridor.

Keeping a wary eye out, Shephard started making his way towards the stairs. A yellow blur out of the corner of his eye made him freeze on the spot. Another on his left, then in front. He heard a noise behind him, and looked around to see another of the creatures there. They were similar in size to the whirring creatures, although these had two legs at the back to keep them upright. Spines ran along their backs like a Mohawk, and their spindly arms went in downward right angles, ending in long spikes.

The way they had positioned themselves, it was like they were the directions on a compass, and Shephard the needle facing north. The South creature shuffled behind him, and Shephard quickly strafed to his right when he felt the sudden movement behind him. Shephard managed to catch South with the Glock as it travelled past, the bullet knocking it back and into the side of the raised SUV.

East didn't take kindly to this, and promptly leapt up on Shephard's back. He stumbled back and groped around his head. He managed to get a grip on the creature's spines and brought him up and over his head in a downward arc. West charged at him just as Shephard brought East slamming down on its' head. The pair bounced with the impact and rolled back along the ground.

A sudden burning sensation in his back made Shephard cry out, and he promptly fell to his knees. He looked around to see North landing on the other side of him, having just sliced its' way into Shephard's back. Or at least, it felt like it had. Gritting his teeth, he brought the Glock around, only for pain to lance out in his right shoulder. The force of the sharp impact knocked the pistol from his hand, sending it toppling away.

One of the creatures - West or East, he couldn't tell - had fired a sizeable spike into his shoulder, and it didn't look healthy. North took this opportunity to bring up both of its' hook-like arms. Shephard brought his arms up, pushing aside the searing pain in his shoulder to grab the claws in mid-slice. He heard a light gust of wind behind him which he now realised was the creatures firing their spikes. With a tug from his left arm, Shephard brought North around and impaled it on its' comrade's spike. The force of the impact sent North careening into the wall, impaling it there.

East started for Shephard as he turned around. With a tug of his left hand and a mighty scream, Shephard managed to slip the spike out of his shoulder. He twirled it around in his fingers until it was facing downwards, and stabbed it straight through the oncoming East, impaling it to the ground.

The last creature, West, seemed somewhat stunned by this strange thing that had killed its' immediate family, but still seemed determined. It came at him, and Shephard reached for the wrench tucked into his belt. He brought it around with a mighty swing, the dull metal hook colliding with West with a mighty crunch, yellow blood spurting in a wide arc as it travelled through the air, over the guardrail, and onto the platform on the other side of the room.

For a time, Shephard just crouched on the floor, listening to himself breathe as he stared at the corpses around him. Eventually, he put the wrench away and hefted himself to his feet, taking extra care around his arm. Tentatively, he poked an experimental finger into the wound.

"… fuckin' Christ!" he spat, the saliva dotting on his gasmask lenses. It still hurt, all right. But still, not quite as much. The PCV was doing its' job already, and far more efficiently than HEV suits did. Once again, Shephard counted his blessings that he wasn't wearing one of those walking disasters.

Legs still shaky, he first went and picked up his Glock before continuing on onto the platform and down the corridor. His aim wasn't as good with the Glock, but hopefully the wound would be healed - or at least numb - before long. Or he could find a medic. A medic would be really good right about now.

He walked around the left corner in front of him and came face to face with two more of the spindly creatures. At the far end of the corridor, Shephard could make out a scientist cowering behind an overturned table. With a warbled growl they turned towards him. On the left hand wall, two elevator doors were open, the elevators themselves long gone. Shephard charged forward and hit the first of the creatures with a powerful drop kick, knocking it straight through the doorway and down the elevator shaft.

The other was not so easily beaten, and fired of a dart at his face. Shephard ducked and reached out for the creature as it swiped at him with its' hooks. He managed to grab the claw and quickly tossed the creature back over him and into the elevator shaft. It fell silently into the blackness inside.

Shephard got to his feet and inspected the dart in the wall. It was imbedded almost halfway. No wonder the bastard in his arm had hurt so much; these things came out with the force of an arrow from a bow.

"I don't know what's worse," a breathless, whiny force said from behind the table. Shephard turned to see a greying blonde scientist standing up and dusting off his coat. "You soldiers under orders to silence us," he said, his disgust with the word 'soldiers' making Shephard wince, "or these vile aliens."

Ignoring the scientist, Shephard quickly got to his feet. The scientist instantly cowered, and Shephard froze.

"I recommend," he said slowly, checking into the elevator shafts for a way up, "that you keep those kind of opinions to yourself."

"You're going to silence me now, is that it?"

"No," Shephard replied. He found what he was looking for through the right-hand doorway; a loose power cable going up the shaft. With a grip on the side of the entrance, Shephard leaned out into the shaft and looked up. There was light coming from a doorway up above. He turned back to the scientist and tossed him the Glock pistol.

"But there are other soldiers who might just kill you if you don't shut up."

He turned and pulled the cable towards him. A few good tugs confirmed its' sturdiness. After a few breaths, he started for the doorway.

"Wait."

He froze and turned around. The scientist was staring down at the weapon the soldier had handed to him.

"Why did you give me this?"

"You'll need it more than I will."

"But you're here to kill me!"

Shephard shrugged. "Not me. You must be thinking of somebody else."

"When… when the fighting started I hid myself down here. I don't think any of them above survived."

He nodded slowly, looking up. "I guess I'll see, won't I?"

With that, he launched himself out into the shaft, and started climbing. The surface was far slicker than the ropes he was used to at boot camp, but the gloves seemed to make up for that, at least a little. Eventually, after a few near-misses, Shephard reached the doorway he was looking for and managed to swing himself to the ledge. He balanced precariously on it for a few moments before managing to grab onto the doorframe and pull himself inside.

Unfortunately it was with his right arm, and as such, hurt like a bitch. Shephard was sure he heard something tear as he fell to the ground inside, gasping. He looked around as he waited for the pain to subside. The polished black and white tile floor made it seem like a kitchen complex or something. But as he started walking and peeked through the windows of the doors on either side, he realised it was more of an office complex.

Desks with still lit lamps and open books made Shephard realise just how sudden this whole thing must have been. Who the hell was responsible for this? The Freeman guy he had heard almost nothing about? He knew that guy was involved somehow. Hell, he didn't even know what the guy looked like.

Shephard walked around a corner and found himself confronted with a barricade of tables, trash cans and vending machines. Frowning, he crept up to the barrier and tried to peek over into the room beyond. A SPAS-12 shotgun rifle nozzle greeted him, but it was quickly withdrawn. A human face quickly replaced it, the black beret he wore looking tattered and worn under the light. Somehow he had managed to grow stubble in the short time he had been in the complex.

But then again, Shephard had to remind himself that he had been unconscious for good chunk of this. Not to mention that there were soldiers arriving at the facility before him. He didn't even want to think what this guy had gone through.

The soldier turned around to speak to someone in the room with him. "It's a Corporal!"

"No shit!"

An engineer popped his head up excitedly, his eyes completely masked by the blackened goggles on his face. The chewed cigarette dangling from his mouth almost fell out when he gaped at the Corporal.

"Holy shit, you're right!" He looked back to his comrade, first, then back to Shephard. "We've been left behind as well. Stand back, we're gonna blow it!"

Shephard nodded and backed up around the corner, smiling like an idiot beneath the gasmask. God dammit, this was just what he needed. With a few good soldiers with him, he could kick the ass out of any situation.

The explosion sent chunks of metal and wood flying into the wall opposite Shephard. He quickly ran around the corner and jogged up to the two soldiers. They seemed equally happy to see him.

"How the hell did you end up here?" he asked breathlessly, looking around the room. There was an open door on his right with the words 'MAINTANENCE DOOR' written above it. Judging from the scorch marks around it, it looked like the engineer had had his way with the door.

The engineer grinned, crumpling the cigarette between his lips even more. "First things first. I'm Andes, this is Gruber."

Shephard stuck out a grateful hand. "Corporal Adrian Shephard."

They both seemed to share a chuckle at his enthusiasm, but he didn't care. Christ, he was just happy to see some fellow soldiers.

"Well," Gruber said slowly, "Guess that makes you the ranking officer."

The look of complete terror on Shephard's face made him grateful for the gasmask. Jesus, he had to command these men? Be responsible for their lives? Christ, both of them looked like they had had more battle experience than three Adrian Shephards.

Andes didn't seem to notice. "Looks like somebody screwed up, Corporal. Seems the Brass bit off more than they can chew."

A nod was the only response the Corporal could muster. Then he numbly shook his head and tried to return himself to the conversation.

"What about Freeman?"

Gruber snorted in contempt. "Forget about Freeman. We've gotta save our own asses!"

This seemed to ring true with Andes as well, who nodded. "You with us, Corporal?"

Shephard almost felt like laughing, he was so scared. What a question. What it really meant was 'Will you take care of us, Corporal? Will you make sure we get out of here alive?' For the love of God, he was only twenty two. This was not something he should be having to deal with. Others should not be relying on him to save their asses.

He just nodded. "How long have you been here?"

"Only just arrived," Andes replied, pointing a thumb over at the broken down Maintenance door. "Missed the transport out of here, by, oh, I don't know… a few hundred metres?"

Gruber laughed. "Yeah. Had to get past these damned alien things that fired green electricity out of their hands. What the hell are we supposed to do against that, huh?"

Even though it was a question borne out of desperation, Gruber and Andes seemed to be having a good laugh about it. Shephard pointed back to the destroyed remains of the barrier.

"Then who put that up?"

The smiles of the soldiers faded, replaced by a silent solemnity. Thumbs hooked into his belt, Andes nodded over to his right. Shephard looked over. A dead security guard lay face down on the ground, a recently deceased crab creature lying eviscerated beside it.

Andes sighed. "Found that thing sucking on his head. Most twisted thing I ever saw."

"We were resting here when you came along," Gruber said quietly, looking eager to change the subject.

Shephard nodded. So that was it. He was going to have to lead these men into whatever hell awaited them above. They weren't ready for this any more than he was. They just needed some help. Some guidance. Someone to keep them on track. Maybe that was all a good leader was; someone to distract you from all the crap that was going on around you and keep you focused on the goal.

And the goal, right now, was getting up to the surface.

Straightening his back, he pointed to a door behind Andes and Gruber, the label 'ELEVATOR ACCESS' plastered above it.

"Andes," he said, adopting the commanding voice he had only used thus far in training sessions, "get that door open. Let's get to the surface and see what we can find."

Andes seemed a little bemused by the command.

"Are you not hearing me, soldier?"

With a motion of his head that Shephard assumed accompanied a blink, Andes turned and unhooked the blowtorch from his PCV vest, quickly getting to work. Shephard and Gruber stood in silence as they watched Andes melt all the way around the perimeter of the metal door.

"Man, my dogs are barkin'," Gruber muttered, shuffling from foot to foot uncomfortably.

Shephard looked over at Gruber, his arms folded. He looked down to the soldiers feet, and then back up at his face again. His dogs were barking? What the flying fuck did that mean?

Andes flicked off his blowtorch and placed it back on his best. After pulling out his Desert Eagle, he knocked down the detached door with a firm placement of his boot and ran through. Shephard nodded for Gruber to go in first before following himself. There was only a very thin patch of carpet before the wide elevator opened up in front of them. They all stepped inside, and Shephard picked the highest floor he could.

The door closed, and after a few moments of silence, the elevator started up with a lurch.

"Uh… sir?"

Slowly, Shephard turned to face Andes.

"What's with the wrench?"

Shephard sighed.

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(A/N: Well, that's your lot until after the New Year, folks! But don't despair; this isn't one of those 'I'll be back but actually I'll disappear and never finish the story' things. I fully intend to finish writing this thing, because I'm looking forward to writing Gordon's escapades in City 17. And I can't very well start doing that without finishing this, can I? That would be all kinds of wrong. Also, I always like to be a few chapters ahead of what I'm actually posting, otherwise I end up feeling rushed and the end product is something I'm less than happy with. So really, this is in everyone's best interests! For example, I'm already halfway through writing 'Lambda Core'…

So! I'll take this opportunity to say Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. And watch the Doctor Who special. It's the festive thing to do.

So… reviews, please!

Next Chapter: "Forget About Freeman!")