(Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Chapter 10! This chapter has a bit more talking than usual, but it's mostly interesting talk! Speaking of talk, let's answer those reviews!

Kamon: Ok, I admit, I guess I made a boo-boo when having the slaves rebel. I'm sure there's some incredibly idiotic and cliché reason why their not shocked, but I'll let you decide. Oh, and I just really can't think of any place to add Barney into. I wasn't originally going to add Shephard into this either, sorry. But I'm happy to see the story's otherwise ok.

Blizrun: Thermonuclear bomb?! Well, that would explain the cheap light effect in the end of Opposing Force. That's right, my friend and I beat Opposing Force! Take that, big alien worm thing! Well, I began writing this story before I played any expansions, so it was going to be expansionless- friendly, meaning that anyone who hadn't played the expansions would still understand the... aww, screw it! Everyone's played the expansions except me, haven't they?! I'm so pathetic! Boohoohoo.

Your-under-arrest: Yes, ironic, isn't it? And it's also good basis for a sequel! Errr, I mean nothing! *shifty look to the side*

Raider: Raider! You're alive! I thought space mummy came and ate you! Umm, anyway, yeah, I hate how alien dialogue is always the same as English, but it IS easier to read than directly translated, 100% grammatically incorrect dialect, right? And only the slave leader knows English (at the moment), he's reading an English dictionary with a scientist tutor/slave in one scene in "From Russia With Love".

Well then, let's get on. Like I said, this chapter has more talking than usually (or maybe not, I don't know!), but just bear with me!)

Chapter 10: Fighting Time

John Rutberg didn't remember ever being this worried. He had gone to work as usual. John was a cop in the Amarillo Police Department in northern Texas, and nothing had been going on during that day until a distress call arrived, saying that of New Mexico being attacked by unknown beings.

John and the others had laughed; someone was probably playing around. But then other states began to call of bizarre beings in them, until all of the Four Corners were infested. All roads leading to the west of Amarillo were blockaded, and now what had turned as a funny joke had become a serious business.

Now John stood behind the barricades, his pistol pointing in sweaty palms towards the west. The air was tense. Nothing was happening, and he had been there for a long while.

"It's just a joke after all," a nearby officer said, dropping his weapon.

"Yeah, let's just all go back," John agreed, when something caught his attention. Strange, green glows were erupting to the west, then, out of nowhere, the flashes began behind the blockade. And out of those lights appeared the most horrifying manners of twisted beings John had ever seen. If this was a prank, it was done pretty damn good.

-----

"A nuke?!" Dylan gaped at Manners. "They're dropping a nuke on us?!" he repeated in disbelief.

"Henderson, did you really think they wouldn't opt for that at some point?" Manners asked.

"Well, it is an obvious choice, but sir! We're down here, along with a lot of other marines!"

"Henderson, do you think the country cares for the lives of a few marines who'll have the risk of dying on the field anyway, or would it rather risk the lives of the whole country itself?"

"Sigh, I see your point, sir," Dylan gave up. What use was it to argue about it? There was a nuclear warhead coming at them. Now the only reasonable thing was to get out and fast.

"We've wasted already enough time standing here! We're to move out to the nearest Osprey, and quick!"

"Where is the nearest Osprey, anyway, sir?" a marine asked.

"The outer gates. We've got a long walk ahead, and only 20 minutes, so let's move!" Manners ordered and began running for the dam. The other marines followed. But as soon as they got onto the battlefield where they had fought the Russians first, they ran into a pack of aliens.

"There's no time to fight! Keep advancing!" Manners ordered, firing as he ran straight into the aliens. One smaller alien floating in the air pointed at the marines and yelled something alien, and the drones and slaves immediately began to pummel at the soldiers.

Dylan fired to his sides as he ran through the bunch, kicking down slaves in his way. A drone ran to intercept him, but Dylan didn't waste time to shoot the drone down. A new attack came from the sky as the obvious leader of the aliens began to hurl fireballs down at him. Dylan pulled a nearby slave and hoisted it on his back, using it as cover from the controller's attacks. The screaming slave kicked at the marine, but began to shake as it was bombarded with flames.

Dylan soon got through the mass of aliens, not too badly damaged, and joined the ranks of running marines. The alien controller yelled and the aliens began to give chase. The marines got onto the dam and ran down it, the drones and slaves close behind. The marines soon ran through the dam's gates, but Dylan slowed down as he realized Manners was staying behind.

"Sir! What are you doing?!" Dylan called.

"Stopping them," Manners answered and pulled the pin off a grenade. He threw it into a nearby stack of ammo crates, then ran at a mad speed through the gate and away from the dam. The grenade blew up all the explosives, weaponry, and ammo in the crates, causing a massive explosion which sent a crack snaking down the side of the dam. At first water spewed from the crack, then concrete chunks fell of as the gap widened. Soon the whole side of the dam was crumbling downwards. The lake began to gush open, washing away the remains of the dam and the aliens standing on it. Dylan could only shake his head at Manners' cunning.

As the two ran back to the waiting squad of marines, they saw the squad was locked in combat with alien-manned Hummers and infantry. The rebel slaves also seemed to be trying to get out, and as the few Hummers and slaves fought the marines, more of them ran for the gates while being covered. Dylan joined the ranks and began to fire at the slaves.

"What? NO!!!" Dylan could hear Manners yell and turned to see the lieutenant talking to his radio. But he couldn't hear anything else as the guns and slaves' death screams were drowning out his speech. Then a bullet struck Dylan in the stomach, and he tripped backwards onto the ground. He felt around his stomach, then sighed as his suit had protected him from the worst damage. He stood and began to fire again.

The Hummers backed away and drove off, following the retreating aliens, the infantry close behind. The marines fired after then, but stopped. There was no point shooting them, they weren't staying around for long. The marines began to continue running, but stopped when Manners called to them.

"Hey! Stop! I was just called! We've got a problem!" Manners yelled, and the marines slowed down.

"What problem, sir?" Dylan asked. Didn't they already have enough problems?

"Someone needs to stay here. It's not actually a nuke they're firing."

"Well, what is it, sir?" Adam asked in turn, just as annoyed that with the situation.

"It's more of an improvised nuke. It's a squadron of Tomahawk missiles, specially fitted with uranium chips in the tips. While it will be destructive, it won't reach the power of a real nuke without a uranium source to strike at," Manners explained. "You see, this way the government ensures that they won't be blamed for using a nuclear warhead. If asked, they'll just say they were conducting experiments. If asked to show the record of fired missiles, there won't be anything on the list except a few Tomahawks. Genius, really."

"Wait, you said they need another nuclear source to home into, sir," Dylan interrupted Manners. "What are they aiming at then?"

"They're going for the nuclear silo. Trouble is, someone has to go down there and manually open the rooftop hatch on the silo, otherwise the missiles will hit the mountain. And you realize, that someone won't be leaving Black Mesa alive."

"Sir, I'm sorry, but we are too tired to go and sacrifice ourselves," Dylan refused.

"I know. You're all good men, who deserve to live. That's why I'm going," Manners said without doubting, and Dylan's eyes widened.

"Sir, no! We don't want you to die! I'll go then, if it's so important that you'd sacrifice yourself!" Dylan offered. Manners was just as good of a person as they were, and their leader too. He had lead them since they had gotten out of boot camp. He was almost like a father figure for the marines.

"No, Henderson, I'm going. All of you are this country's future. I've served my purpose."

"But who will..."

"... lead you out of here?" Manners finished the question for Dylan. "You will, Henderson. You've proven to me today you've got the skills and the resolve. It's with pride that I order you to lead my men out of Black Mesa."

"Sir, I refuse to!" Dylan yelled back.

"Private Henderson, that's an order! You will all obey private Henderson until you have gotten out of the Black Mesa Research Facility! Now, go! The Ospreys will leave in 10 minutes!"

Dylan stared at the lieutenant angrily for a moment. "Yes sir," he finally said. Manners smiled, and patted Dylan's shoulder.

"I know you can do it, Dylan," he whispered, handing his spare clips to him. "Good luck."

"Good luck to you too, sir," Dylan nodded, then turned towards the road. "All right, we've got 10 minutes to get out of here, so how about we move?!" Then the marines began to file away towards the gates.

"Oh, and private Henderson!" Manners called before leaving. Dylan stopped to turn back, hoping he had changed his mind, though he knew Manners wouldn't do that.

"Remember the garage way back when we arrived here? I didn't like killing those scientists either, and I'm truly sorry about it."

"Thank you, sir," Dylan smiled. "That's all I wanted to hear from you." Then he joined the running marines and continued on. Manners shook his head for a moment, then turned to the opposite direction, and began to run for the silo doors.

Dylan and his group ran around a few bends, meeting little resistance, but soon met a familiar adversary. Down the road crawled the pathetic shaped of Dimitri, leader of the Russians, still wearing his fur coat. The tired Russian crawled down the road and groaned. When he turned his head up and saw the marines, his eyes flashed with rage.

"I thought you killed him, Adam," Dylan said to Adam, standing by him. Adam only shrugged.

"You!" he called, standing up. Dylan noted that Dimitri looked a lot shorter than before. "This is your fault! My mercenaries are all dead. The finest mercenaries in all of Europe, wasted! You killed them!" he began to weep, then got a control of himself.

"Dimitri, you can come with us," Dylan offered, showing mercy. "We can take you to a prison. You'll be taken better care of there than here."

"NO!!!" the Russian screamed, pulling out a grenade from his coat. "My team, my paycheck, my, my, my LEGS!!! You took it all!" Now Dylan realized that Dimitri was missing half of his legs. "I'll kill you all!" He croaked, pulling out a Molotov cocktail and a lighter from his pocket.

"Dimitri, watch out!" Adam suddenly yelled, but it was too late. The nearby wall burst open to a wall of fire. Dimitri yelped, pulling his coat for cover, and was thrown by the jet through a window into the opposite building.

"Quick, everyone inside!" Dylan called, and the marines piled into the opposite building as, in an impossible feat, the gargantuan stepped out. The thing was shattered: it's hard chitinous skin blasted away to reveal it's soft muscles. One arm had been lost a long time ago, the other still active, though in a bad shape.

"What?! It's still alive!" Dylan yelled, peering out of the window.

"What are we gonna do, Dylan... sir," a nearby marine asked. Right then, Dylan realized he was in charge then, and it was his fault if anyone died. He was the one making decisions now, and the thought almost overwhelmed him. He was helpless, he couldn't get them out of there. But then he realized he HAD to get them out, or he would have failed Manners. The thought of failing a martyr was much more terrifying.

"We need to get past the gargantuan, so someone has to distract it. But I don't think whoever distracts it will live, cause they can't return. The gargantuan would follow otherwise. Will anyone volunteer, or do I have to do it myself?" Dylan asked. The marines looked at each other, no one speaking up.

"I'll do it," Dylan heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Adam was speaking. "I'm the last member of Rail Team. If I have to die, then I'll die here with my former comrades."

"Adam, I don't want YOU to go, your my only friend here. Yeah, and Greshwald," Dylan pointed at the marine lying in the canvas carried by the others. "Besides, there's still some Rail Team members here, remember?"

"No, look around, Dylan. They've all died before in past fights. I'm the last one. Please, I want to help you out, let me do this... sir," Adam added.

"All right," Dylan finally said, though he felt himself losing a chunk of his heart as he said so.

"Oh, Dylan, before I go out, tell me something. When we first met, we immediately came friends. I could have just been planning on using you as a human shield or something instead of truly being a friend, but you still so easily befriended me. Why is that? Normally it's hard to become friends."

"I trusted you, because you remind me of my brother," Dylan answered, "You're a lot like him, in more ways than one."

"What's that mean?" Adam asked.

"My brother's name was Adam," Dylan smiled, and Adam stared in surprise, then nodded.

The marines all ran out, Adam running in front of them. "Hey, you!" he called. "Yeah you, big and ugly! I'm the one you want, aren't I? I'm the one who speared you with that tank. Come and get me, numbskull!" The gargantuan probably didn't understand what he said, but still charged him. Meanwhile, Dylan lead the marines past the monster.

-----

Dimitri watched from the corner of his eye as the marines ran out of the building. After all had left, he laughed out loud and stood up. Not only was his fur coat bullet proof, it also had a sheet of asbestos in it. The gargantuan's flame thrower had felt like a day at the beach. In fact, the monster had been useful, and had burned his leg wounds shut.

Dimitri tried to walk, but the his former legs turned stumps made walking awkward, and Dimitri tripped onto the ground. There, his eyes met with possibly the most harmless-looking alien so far.

The bug was tiny, smaller than the headcrabs. It was completely red with a few clawed legs and a large green eye. The cockroach-like bug let out small chirping noises as it stared in wonder at the Russian.

"Heh, what are you gonna do, shrimp? I'd just like to see what attacks you've got," Dimitri laughed at the tiny insect. It answered by screaming, and leaping into the laughing Dimitri's mouth.

The Russian's laughs turned into screams as the bug began to dig into his head with razor sharp teeth and claws. Dimitri squirmed on the ground as he felt the thing entering his brain. Then, the insect's inner timer hit zero and the insect blew up. Dimitri's head combusted along with the insect, effectively beheading him. Baba Yaga's leader had run out of escape tricks, just because of a tiny alien bug.

-----

"Move, move, move!" Dylan called as the strange flying aliens appeared over the tops of the buildings. The marines ran in the alcoves, heading for the outer gate, with only 5 minutes on the timer. They rounded a bend and almost crashed into a group of scientists running in the opposite direction.

"Hold your fire!" Dylan yelled to the scientists, who began reading a rocket launcher at them. "We're not enemies anymore!"

The scientists didn't say anything, but continued to ready their rocket launcher. Dylan gulped, but instead of firing at the marines, the scientist let a shot loose into the sky. The rocket roared into the side of an Apache, aiming it's gun towards the marines. Aliens leaped in terror as the Apache began to plummet.

"Why would we suddenly stop fighting each other?" one of the scientists asked.

"The reason why we tried to kill you was so the aliens wouldn't leak out into the public. But that's happened already, so there's no point in fighting you any longer," Dylan explained.

"How can we trust you? You might just try to shoot us in the back," the scientist asked.

"Well, we didn't try to kill you when you were loading that rocket launcher. I mean, it could have been us you were aiming at, not those aliens." This statement seemed to have effect on the scientists, who began to scratch their jaws.

"Sir, sorry to interrupt you, but there's only about a few minutes on the timer, and the fly-guys are coming back," a marine said to Dylan, and as if on cue, the alien controllers appeared over the rooftops.

"Please, trust me on this," Dylan said to the scientists, then signaled the marines to move out. The marines began to run, and Dylan noticed the scientists were running with them.

They soon came to the outer gates. The gates had been opened wide and the Osprey could be seen outside on the desert. Alien Hummers and infantry were going through the gate, obviously moving out, considering that they were ignoring the Osprey. Meanwhile, in the sky, huge amounts of Apaches and Ospreys were flying off, some manned by aliens, most still belonging to the military.

"HEY!" Dylan waved to the Osprey, which was beginning to rise, and sprinted through the gates. The Osprey lowered onto the ground as it saw the marines coming, and Dylan climbed inside.

"Wow, we thought no one was coming here," the pilot said to Dylan. "There weren't that many marines here by the gates. We were just leaving."

"Yeah, well, my squad's coming, and a few scientists along with them. We've got to move out and fast, it's only about 20 minutes until that nuke hits this place," Dylan said as the marines began climbing in. As soon as everyone was on board, the Osprey's propellers began spinning as the helicopter rose into the sky. The massive chopper flew off, leaving the alien controllers behind them.

"Wait a minute!" Dylan called suddenly realizing something. "We've got to go back!"

"What?!" the pilot yelled over to him as he held onto the roof. "That's suicide!"

"Do it!" Dylan called, lifting his rifle up.

"All right, all right! Sheesh..." the pilot said and turned the Osprey back towards the abandoned research center. The Osprey flew over the buildings, Dylan staring through the window as they passed over.

"There!" he pointed on the ground. The pilot looked down and saw a lone marine fighting a gargantuan in a small clearing. The Osprey began lowering down, and Dylan rappelled downwards. "Adam!" he called to his friend, who had, by luck, still lived this long. The marine saw him, stared wide eyed, and began to run for his hanging friend. Adam leaped onto the rope, and the two were hauled up into the helicopter.

"You're still alive!" Dylan laughed as hey were being pulled up.

"Yeah, that brute's a lot slower now that he's taken a beating," Adam responded while the gargantuan leaped up and down under them.

"Can we now leave?" the pilot asked. Dylan nodded to him as he took hold of the roof, and the Osprey set off away. Soon they joined the other helicopters flying away. A few Apaches were flying lower, obviously belonging to the rebel slaves, but the marines didn't bother to deal with them right now. Both sides seemed to have agreed on a cease fire.

Dylan looked out of the window at the other helicopters. He saw that the Sun was disappearing behind the horizon. Evening was beginning. They had fought since the morning, but as Dylan turned to watch at the sitting marines and scientists, chatting with each other, he realized that finally, FINALLY, the Black Mesa mission was over.

Or so he thought. But the rebel leader had other plans. A few marines suddenly collapsed with bullet holes, and everyone dived onto the Osprey's floor as the walls began filling with bullet holes. Dylan nearly shed out a tear; he thought he would have been finally free of Black Mesa, but it seemed like there was one more alien picking a fight left.

-----

Lieutenant Manners walked on the catwalk above the vats of nuclear waste. He had been able to sneak in, finally. He walked into the control cabin and began studying the panels. Soon he found the open button. He watched as the metallic door in the cavern's roof began to open.

Manners knew he couldn't get out of the blast area in time, so he decided it was no use running. He sat down on a chair and began to wait. At that point he realized that was probably the last time anyone would sit on that chair.

Disturbed by the fact, Manners started to work on a nearby computer. He started up Minesweeper to pass the time. But then he saw that that was the last time anyone would ever play Minesweeper on that computer. Manners couldn't help it. He slumped down and began to cry. He was a tough member of the army, ready to take on just about anything. But this wasn't how he wanted to die. Not alone, doing things that no one would do there again. He wanted to die as an old, old man, surrounded by loved ones as he laid in the hospital bed.

There, when he was about to meet his maker, he finally understood what had troubled him throughout his life: he was scared of dying. This revelation didn't help out at all, and he continued crying there, waiting for his end to come.

(Well, this is it. Next chapter will be scheduled somewhere around August the 9th , possibly later. Then we'll see the conclusion, Dylan's final battle. Let's wish our favorite marine some good luck and wait and see how he'll fare, eh?)