Chapter Four: Briefing
Temporary Covert Operations Outpost - New Mexico Desert (Sector 3327)
Trenton stood next to two other men he'd never met before. He recognized them as squad leaders, but beyond that, he knew nothing about either of them. In this line of work he never made any friends and never saw any reassuring faces. They were all the same dark phantoms, shrouded in black masks. They went in, did the job, left the dead behind, and moved on.
The three men stood in a small tent, lit only by a single oil lamp sitting on a desk. Trenton noticed numerous files strewn across the desk, most of which contained the words "Classified" on them.
Commander Ryan came bursting into the tent, looking furious with anger, he eyed each of the men and grunted, "I just got off the horn with the man in charge of this op." Trenton's noted the fact that the Commander neglected to say who the 'man in charge' was. "I've been briefed, and now I am here to tell you what you need to know. Listen carefully Nyles, Trenton, and what's your name son?" Ryan asked the man standing farthest away from Trenton.
"Stevenson sir." A bald, African American man fervently answered in a deep voice. At around 6 feet tall, the man was very well built.
"Now you understand gentlemen," the Commander began, "that right now I am not officially congratulating you on surviving the Black Mesa mission. For the record, we are not currently at this location. Because, for the record, none of what you have experienced in the last day has officially transpired."
Trenton understood perfectly what he meant by this: Your discretion is what keeps you alive.
Commander Ryan paused, giving every man a stern look, and continued,
"However, off the record, technically speaking, we have a new situation on our hands."
"We've lost contact with an airbase not far from here, not far from Black Mesa. Not a word for five hours. Your job, investigation."
"That's it?" Trenton frantically thought to himself, the Commander's previous words still burning into his mind: SOMETHING HAS SURVIVED.
"Marines involved in the Black Mesa cleanup operation were flown out to this airbase a few hours prior to our incursion. Go there, see if there is a problem, report back what you find."
"Bullshit!" Trenton's thoughts were racing now, and he could tell the commander saw the frustration in his eyes.
"You getting this, Trenton?" The Commander stared almost wide-eyed, revealing to Trenton frustration of his own.
"Yes," Trenton nodded.
"We don't know what to expect, so treat this as hostile territory. Your squads will be going in under cover of night so night vision goggles will be needed as well."
"What does Intelligence think it might be sir?" Nyles, a young looking man with sandy blonde hair, asked.
"We don't deal it might's, got it!? We have to know exactly what happened, it might be nothing, or it might be something, understood?" The commander snapped at a suddenly ferocious volume.
"Yes… yes sir" Nyles responded, visibly shaken by the sudden outburst.
Trenton couldn't bare this; he could feel there was something the commander wanted to tell them, but couldn't.
"Locate and interrogate the highest ranking officer on the base, should be a man by the name of General Luke Jenkins." A photo was then passed around. A gray haired man, at about retirement age as Trenton guessed, stared up at him with dark, sunken eyes.
"If anyone on the base acts as or is determined by any operative to be a threat, they are to be neutralized immediately. Only if they are a threat, got it, gentlemen?"
"Yes sir," the three men replied, almost in unison.
"You'll be armed with Carbines, however, I want the most experienced in heavy weapons on each squad to take a SAW. All of you will carry a full load of clips, and a full pack of fragmentation grenades." The commander said this very precisely, as if their lives depended on it.
"This is all wrong, this isn't how we operate…" Trenton's mind was under a barrage of doubts, "…I know it, they know it, and the commander knows it."
"You three will keep in almost constant radio contact for the entire mission, I'll be monitoring you by satellite, and giving orders from this command post."
Commander Ryan proceeded to give a small, black and white satellite photo of the base to each of the three men. It looked to Trenton as though this was a rather small air base, with one large building, and five smaller ones, all resting next to two large airstrips. Each one was labeled 'hangar', 'barracks #1', etc…
"Three squads are going in on this mission; you and your operatives have been selected for your outstanding performance in the Black Mesa mission. I EXPECT the same professionalism here." The Commander pointed, "Nyles, you're squad is designated Alpha, Trenton you're Beta, and Stevenson, Charlie."
The Commander seemed to be rushing himself, dishing out orders as fast as possible. "Nyles, your team runs recon on barracks #1, then the armory." Commander Ryan turned to Stevenson, "Your team will check out the three ospreys still on the air field, and then go for barracks #2, and then the generator building. Trenton, your team goes to the hangar, then heads for the administration building."
Trenton could feel the urgency in Commander Ryan's voice, the underlying fear, covered by his gruff military stature.
"As I said before, treat this as hostile territory, I want every man out there to be on his guard."
Trenton's gaze began to wane from the commander to the pile of folders and papers on his desk. His eyes were drawn to a notepad lying on top. The small, white notepad had two words written on it: Gamma Team.
"Was this another team being sent in, why hadn't the commander briefed them on it?"
"Each of you will give your squad a full and complete briefing, tell them everything they need to know, got it?" Ryan shouted at the men.
"Yes sir,"
"Dismissed." Ryan barked, sounding just as enraged as when he had begun.
Nyles and Stevenson left the tent, leaving only Trenton and his Commander. Trenton stood, looking directly at the commander, waiting for some answers to the questions that plagued his mind.
"I said, Dismissed." Commander Ryan growled, almost under his breath.
Trenton obeyed, shook his head, and left the tent as quickly as possible.
The Commander stood alone, almost perfectly still. Without warning he hit the top of the desk with his fist, the pain rushing up his arm, he shouted, "Damn!"