Trenton was lost in his thoughts; he didn't even hear the radio call out his name.
"Trenton, Trenton, come in, do you read?" The Commanders voice repeated.
"Sir?" Trenton said softly.
"Inform your squad that the helicopters will be changing course, and landing for a mission briefing."
"A new mission?" Trenton asked, the hairs on his neck beginning to stand on end.
"Yes" the commander continued, "Something has survived."
Trenton blinked, "Say again?"
"Something has survived."
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Chapter Two: Military Investigations
Covert Operations Temporary Outpost - New Mexico Desert (Sector 3327)
=== 36 minutes after Black Operations Evac ===
The Commander slowly set down his radio, his hand wavering slightly. Commander John Ryan was a small stout man, with a gray buzz cut, and a well-trimmed mustache. Being in his early 50's, he had seen a lot of experience in the field, but nothing had prepared him or the operatives under his command for the situations they had just faced, and those they were about to. The Commander nervously paced back and forth inside a small army tent. Two armed guards stood outside, keeping watch over the desert. The sun was now setting over the hummers and tents, the light slowly fading from the small desert outpost. Ryan heard more guards patrolling outside, as he once again took a seat next to his desk to look over - one last time - the information Intelligence had sent him.
The Commander picked up a small tape recorder, and inserted a tape marked: "Black Mesa military radio transmissions" and pressed the play button. The static filled chatter screamed out over the quiet of the desert.
"Forget About Freeman! We are cutting our loses and pulling out, anyone left down there now is on his own, repeat, if you –" Ryan pressed the fast forward button, and pressed play after several seconds.
"-- sir this is goose 19, this is goose 19, the remains of Charlie group is on board and we are taking off 20 minutes before evac."
"Any wounded with you goose 19?" An older voice asked.
"Affirmative sir, we've got multiple wounded. Permission to take off?"
"permission granted, proceed to–" Ryan pressed the fast forward button again. He played several more communications but found nothing else relating to his investigation. This didn't surprise him in the least, as in dealing with anything as highly classified as this he didn't expect a word of it on regular radio transmissions.
The Commander could now hear the black-ops helicopters approaching. Quickly taking a notepad off his desk; he scribbled two words on it.
"Gamma Team"