Black Mesa
By Patrick Williams
Based on the storyline from Half-Life, a game from Valve Software and Sierra Studios. The Half-Life franchise is the property of Sierra Studios. All rights are reserved to Sierra Studios.
Chapter 10 – Foxtrot Uniform
Motorpool Garage
Major General Thompson stood triumphant over the three scientists. They were finally in his grasp, and there would be no escape this time. The EMP field would prevent their suits from restoring power. They weren't going anywhere. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, Thompson had always believed.
Thompson left the three scientists where they lay, still protected within their hazard suits. Not for very much longer, though. Thompson walked across the garage to speak with his staff.
"Has the shipment arrived from Washington?"
"Yes, sir," one of his aides replied. "The machine was parachuted in a few minutes ago, and they're bringing it here by truck. It'll be here in a matter of minutes."
"Outstanding. When the truck arrives, gather the troops and assemble them here. I want them all to see just how vulnerable these scientists really are once we remove them from their all-powerful hazard suits. They could use the morale boost."
Across the garage, the three scientists heard every word through their aural sensors. The conversation was amplified within their helmets as if the group had been speaking directly beside them.
Thompson called to them from across the room, not knowing he need not shout to be heard. "I have good news! My package has arrived and will be here shortly. You see, until now the only machine capable of removing those hazard suits of yours has been buried deep underground in Sector C. That sector collapsed in on itself a few hours ago, and trying to retrieve anything from down there would be an exercise in futility. Fortunately for us, more such machines exist. In a few minutes time, we'll have you out of those uncomfortable hazard suits. Then we can have a little discussion face to face. No more bulletproof armor, no more amplified strength, no more amplified speed. Just you, me, and the comrades of the soldiers you've been murdering."
The thought brought fear into the hearts of the three scientists, able to do nothing now but wait.
Outside the garage, the sun was setting on the darkest day in Barney Calhoun's life. The sun hung low on the edge of the horizon, sending long shadows across the grounds around the garage where Gina and Colette were being held. Calhoun hadn't heard from Gordon since losing him back at the checkpoint, and he was most likely in the hands of the military again.
The garage was defended like a fortress, with tanks coming and going and helicopters orbiting overhead. Automated turrets had been set up to assist the dozens of soldiers manning sandbagged bunkers throughout the area. Several 50 caliber machine guns on tripods were scattered about, as were a few stationary rocket launchers. Calhoun spotted several laser trip mines along some of the more obscure entrances to the grounds. The entire area was lit with powerful portable spot lights brought in to make sure nothing could sneak in under the cover of darkness that was fast approaching.
The military sure knew how to dole out firepower, Barney Calhoun had to admit. He approached the garage, trying to act as naturally as he could under the circumstances. If he showed any signs of being out of place, the hardened soldiers around him wouldn't hesitate to pounce on him in an instant.
Thus far no one had questioned him. He had passed through several checkpoints unchallenged on his trek towards the garage. They must have assumed he was part of the unit he had been tailing, jogging a little slower than the rest. The fact that they were waiting for someone in a hazard suit had caused them to lower their guard just enough for him to sneak past without arousing any suspicion.
More than once along his journey, Calhoun had considered hopping into a Humvee and leaving Black Mesa again. He had quickly dismissed the notion, however. He had stayed here to save Gordon, Gina, and Colette, and if he abandoned them now he would have risked his life for nothing.
Calhoun walked across the roadway towards the entrance to the garage.
"You! Stop where you are!" a soldier called out in front of him. The soldier was manning one of the machine guns. He hadn't yet pointed it at Calhoun, but it would only take a split second to do so and open fire.
"No unauthorized personnel allowed inside the garage whatsoever. General's orders," the soldier explained.
Calhoun relaxed, relieved to learn he wasn't about to be turned into swiss cheese. He shrugged, acting nonchalant, and veered away from the entrance, trying not to let his relief show through. He began walking around the building, looking for a way to sneak in unnoticed. The place was very well defended and he would have to tread carefully.
"Wait! Stop!" the soldier called again, holding his hand to his earpiece.
Calhoun froze in his tracks. He turned around slowly and noticed that the soldier was pointing the machine gun in his direction now. So, this is it, Calhoun mused. The situation was nearly identical to what had happened in the bio labs. They had been so close to getting past the soldiers unnoticed when HQ had called the soldiers and blown their cover. Calhoun still wondered how they had known. The military always seemed to know what they were going to do before they did it. It seemed to be happening again, only this time Gordon was nowhere to be found to come to his rescue. Quite the reverse was true.
The soldier continued listening to his earpiece for a few moments, then returned his attention to Calhoun. "We've got new orders from the General. They want all of us inside on the double. Come on, let's go!"
Calhoun could not believe his luck. They were inviting him inside. Whatever was going on in there, it was important enough for the soldiers to let down their guard to see it. Calhoun joined the group of soldiers crowding into the garage.
The garage was already crammed full of soldiers eager to see the impending spectacle. They all wanted a piece of Freeman as soon as the hazard suit was peeled away from his scrawny body. Most of the soldiers had lost friends to these murderers, and it was time to inflict some corporal punishment.
Major General Thompson's aides did what they could to keep the soldiers at bay. The General was whipping them into a frenzy with a flagrant speech about how badly Gordon Freeman had hurt them. He blamed Freeman for initiating the disaster they had been called in to clean up, and he told them exaggerated tales of Freeman leading the uprising that had killed so many of their fellow soldiers in Sector E. He used Freeman simultaneously as a target for the soldiers to vent their frustrations upon and to give them hope that their plans may yet succeed thanks to their newly acquired hazard suits. Thompson was normally a stickler for discipline, but right now he needed his soldiers to become fired up and motivated to fight their way across the surface towards the Lambda Complex.
As if on cue, a truck slowly backed into the garage through one of its large bay doors. The soldiers present knew what this truck brought with it and cheered as the large wooden box on the back of the truck fell open to reveal the machine.
From his stiff position on the ground, Gordon could not see what they were cheering for, but he could guess what it was. It was an H.E.V. storage unit, designed to equip and remove their hazard suits. Gordon desperately tried to squirm away, but his suit held him down.
An engineer carried a heavy-duty extension cord from the far side of the garage and plugged the device in. It emitted a steady humming, announcing its readiness to send Gordon, Gina, and Colette to their doom.
Several of the soldiers lifted Gordon off of the ground and passed him across the garage like a body surfing singer at a rock concert. Gordon knew his time was about to run up. The device would remove his hazard suit in a matter of seconds and then he would be killed, either by the mass of soldiers or by the General himself.
Calhoun watched the display from the back of the room, completely at a loss. There had to be at least three dozen soldiers in the room, all of them armed to the teeth. He might get a few shots off, but he would be taken down before he could do much of anything to save Gordon. If he could find the device that was disabling the hazard suits, he might be able to give them a chance to restore power. But a similar device had disabled Gordon's suit for over an hour before it had restored itself. An hour from now, the three scientists would be out of those hazard suits and probably dead at the hands of the soldiers. Any way Calhoun looked at it, the situation was hopeless. He had gotten here too late to make a difference. Gordon, Gina, and Colette were lost.
Calhoun cursed to himself. He had been a fool to come back. His noble attempt to save them had been utterly worthless. What had he thought he would be able to do? Did he think he would have been regarded as a hero for saving them? For the past few hours Calhoun had followed the path of a hero, and Calhoun realized now that that path only led to his own destruction. He was no hero. He was just one man trying to survive in a dangerous situation. He should have gone with Rosenberg and left this place behind. Calhoun had already risked his life many times today, and all he had accomplished was to delay the inevitable for his friends. To die trying to save his friends now would do nothing but further delay their executions. He did not have a problem risking his life if it would accomplish something, but to do so now would be suicide. If he died here now, it would be for nothing. His best course of action now would be to cut his losses and escape. Gordon, Gina, and Colette would have wanted it that way.
Calhoun slinked along the back of the garage towards the exit and continued trying to shirk the feeling of guilt that he was being a coward.
Gordon could feel himself being propped upright inside of the storage unit. Gordon had a fleeting thought of a man being tied down beneath the guillotines, and forced himself to swallow hard to avoid vomiting. He used every ounce of strength to fight against their efforts, but the hazard suit constricted any movement. Gordon stared out from his helmet at the angry mob of soldiers pushing towards the back of the truck. He was powerless to fight back as one of the techs approached the controls to activate the device. The soldiers began buzzing excitedly.
Gordon cringed, waiting for the tiny mechanical arms to reach from the unit and do their deadly deed. He closed his eyes reflexively, his life flashing before his eyes. He wished he could have amounted to something more before his death. Tears began to fall from his eyes as he prepared for the end.
Gordon opened his eyes when he realized the machine had stopped. He blinked reflexively, trying to clear his eyes. He couldn't see a thing. The entire room was bathed in darkness. It was completely dark outside, and no light came in through the windows.
Gordon peered around from within the helmet, still powerless to move. The garage's power had been cut. The garage doors had been locked shut, and panicked voices arose from every corner of the garage as the soldiers tried to figure out what was going on and how to escape. Over the fray, Gordon could hear the General trying to maintain order. Several of the soldiers activated flashlights built into their MP5s, but these did little to light the cavernous garage. All they accomplished was to ruin any chance of their vision adapting to the darkness.
In all the commotion, Gordon was probably the only one who noticed the tiny red lights appearing near the ceiling. Gordon immediately thought of a large radioactive spider hanging from the ceiling, staring down with menacing red eyes. Gordon wondered if it was a new creature from Xen, sent to crash their party and kill them all. He could do nothing but watch and wait to see if his suspicions were correct.
Gordon soon realized the lights were wholly independent of each other, and they seemed to belong to several different creatures collecting near the ceiling. They hung there in mid air, waiting to strike. Gordon held his breath as if it would keep him invisible to their ominous red stare. He hoped against hope that his immobile state would keep him out of harm's way when they attacked.
The strike came swiftly and without notice. Dozens of muted retorts announced the firing of several silenced pistols. Soldiers on the ground screamed in pain, frustration, and utter confusion as they were impacted on all sides by silent projectiles. A few of the soldiers realized what was happening and began firing their weapons blindly at the ceiling. Gordon doubted they hit anything before being cut down themselves.
In a matter of seconds, the room was silent, save for the groaning of the dying soldiers littering the ground. Gordon was more terrified than ever before as the red eyes slowly descended from the ceiling. They reached ground level and fanned out. From the silhouette created by the flashlight on a dropped MP5, Gordon saw that the attackers were indeed human. Gordon couldn't see much else before the silhouetted figure disappeared back into the shadows.
A buzzing announced that emergency power had been activated. The room was bathed in the eerie red glow from the emergency lights. Gordon could see that the attackers were dressed in black jumpsuits and body armor and had come very well armed. They wore black ski masks over their faces, and their night vision goggles had no doubt allowed them to see their unsuspecting prey through the darkness.
With the emergency power activated, the black ops commandos could remove their night vision goggles. Now that they had lost the element of surprise, they would need to be able to react quickly to any unseen threats. The goggles allowed them to see in the dark, but severely limited their field of vision like horse blinders. They were willing to sacrifice their cover in order to gain the extra peripheral vision.
The commandos swept through the room, taking up guard positions around its edges. They had been very thorough, and the only sign of life came from Major General Thompson, who had fallen down against the incapacitated forms of Gina and Colette. He had been shot in the chest, and was bleeding heavily. Like the two hazard suits he now leaned against, Thompson was not going anywhere.
A great ball of electricity appeared in the center of the garage, directly in front of Thompson. For a moment, the room was lit by the brilliant luminescence of the portal. Thompson tried to squirm away, but the effort shot lightning bolts of pain through his chest and back. Thompson had no idea what was happening, but he was powerless to stop it.
A figure emerged from the portal, dressed in a slick gray suit with a matching briefcase.
"You?! What do you think you're doing?" Thompson gasped.
"Hello, Mister Thompson," the man in the suit hissed. "I'm afraid your usefulness to our cause has come to an end. It is time for your… replacements to step in. I see you've been already been introduced. My, my, that looks like a nasty wound. I'd say the bullet punctured a lung and ruptured your stomach. You don't have much time left, I'm afraid, Mister Thompson. Fortunately, you and your men are no longer required here. We have… other means of achieving our goals now. My commandos don't take too kindly to competition. Your soldiers don't stand a chance against them. Order your men to pull out before it is too late."
The administrator handed Thompson a satellite phone, who took it reluctantly.
"What guarantees do I have that you won't shoot down my men once they're in the air?" the General demanded.
"Your men will all sign non-disclosure agreements upon arrival at Santego," the administrator replied, not truly addressing the question. "Your men have nothing more to fear so long as they sign on the dotted line. Even if they do talk, no one will believe such a ridiculous story."
Thompson didn't have a choice in the matter.
"This is Thompson calling HQ… over."
"HQ here, sir. We read you five by five, over."
"Execute 'Foxtrot Uniform.' Do you read me?"
"F-foxtrot uniform, sir? Uh, roger that, executing 'Foxtrot Uniform' by your command, sir."
The administrator replaced the phone in its pocket within his suit.
"You have disappointed me, Mister Thompson. You committed many fatal errors today. You wasted far too much time and far too many lives capturing these hazard suits. Were you one of my Commanders, I would have shot you myself. We have no place in our organization for such failure. As you can see, we are tying up every loose end, and you know far too much to be allowed to ever leave this place."
Thompson glared up at the administrator, saying more with his eyes than he possibly could with his voice.
The administrator spoke with one of the commandos for a moment before turning back to face the General.
"I'm afraid no one will ever know of the sacrifices made by you and your men today. There will be nothing left of this facility when my commandos are done with it. Commander Dekker, show the good General what I'm referring to."
Several of the commandos wheeled in a cart with an ominous cone-shaped device onboard.
"You see, Mister Thompson," the administrator continued. "There will be nothing left of Black Mesa after this warhead goes off. We must be leaving you now. Goodbye, Mister Thompson."
The administrator turned to leave. Thompson saw his opening and reached down to retrieve his pistol from its holster. As he brought it around to fire, one of the commandos beat him to it. The gun flew out of Thompson's hands, hit by a perfectly fired bullet from a black ops sharpshooter.
"No regrets, Mister Thompson," the administrator said without turning as he stepped into the portal before him. His commandos disappeared into the shadows around the edges of the garage, taking their warhead with them.
Thompson felt very alone, as the only other survivors were silently trapped inside of their hazard suits.
Barney Calhoun raced back towards the garage. He had been nearly a mile away when he had looked back to say a final goodbye to his friends in the garage. He had quickly noticed that the building had disappeared in darkness, a shadow within an otherwise well lit campus. Clearly something unexpected was happening in the garage. Calhoun felt a rush of guilt for abandoning his friends so easily. As had happened several times today, he was now being given an opportunity to rise to the occasion and become a hero, and once again he had almost blown it. He could no longer justify saving his own skin. If there was any chance of saving his friends without wasting his own life, he would have to take it. He hoped he would not be remembered as what he felt like; a coward. He hoped he was not too late.
As Barney reached the garage, two flatbed trucks pulled into the area, blinding him with their headlights. He stood like a startled deer in headlights, caught completely off guard.
Several figures hopped off the back, weapons drawn. Barney hoped they were friendly. He would find out soon enough.
The distinct sound of new vehicles arriving outside had startled Gordon. His suit had been charging since the power went out since the EMP generator had been knocked out with the rest of the power. However, his suit was still far from restoring full functionality when the vehicles arrived. Gordon was could not defend himself from whatever new challenges awaited. Most of the people they had come across today had been bent on killing them, and Gordon was far too cynical to hope that any newcomers would be friendly.
One of the garage bay doors began to rise and several soldiers rushed in. Despite the dim red darkness, it was hard to mistake the urban camouflage the soldiers wore, clearly not the black camouflage of the commandos. Gordon didn't know whether to be relieved or frightened. Clearly, there was much more going on at Black Mesa than they had realized. It seemed that, in the midst of an alien invasion, man's greatest enemy was, as had always been the case, his fellow man.
One of the newcomers was a medic, who rushed immediately to the General's side.
"Easy now, sir. Let me take a look at that wound…" the medic said soothingly as he inspected Thompson's gut. The medic could tell instantly that the prognosis would not be good. "You're going to be just fine, sir," the medic said reassuringly, both of them knowing every word was a lie.
"Don't bullshit me, son. I know I'm already dead. Get me your commander."
"Yes, sir," the medic replied. "Corporal, over here!"
Corporal Adrian Shephard approached at Jones' summoning.
"Corporal…" the General gasped. "I need you to do something for me. I've already ordered a full-scale evacuation. I'm giving you one final objective before you pull out. You've got to stop those bastards from delivering that nuke. People need to see what happened here. The people need to know about the conspiracy that took place here. That nuke will erase any physical evidence that we were ever here. I don't want our men to have died in vain. Promise me you won't stop until you've disarmed that nuke, Corporal. Promise me…"
"Yes, sir," Shephard replied soberly. It was a very tall order, but it was the dying wish of his commanding officer. What choice did he have?
Jones could do little more than give him painkillers to ease the process. Shephard didn't leave the General's side until the end.
In the mean time, the rest of Shephard's group had wandered in to see what was taking them so long. They were clearly stunned by the carnage. There was little doubt now that the black ops commandos they had been following weren't friends of the Army or anyone else.
Barney stood with the rest of the security team, guarding the exterior of the garage. He no longer wore his BDU. He once again wore his true colors; the black and blue Black Mesa Security uniform.
Through the glare of the headlights, Calhoun had noticed that the figures onboard the trucks had been wearing Black Mesa Security uniforms. He had taken a chance and told them the truth; that he wasn't really a soldier. He told them he was with the security team, and he had been using the BDU as additional protection, which wasn't too far from the truth. It was only then that Calhoun had realized that not all of the figures were on the security team. Mixed throughout the group were several soldiers from the Army. Calhoun had been startled to see Black Mesa Security and Army soldiers working together, but had found out much from his fellow guards in the past few minutes. Apparently these soldiers hadn't received their orders yet, and didn't know they were supposed to be murdering the scientists they were now protecting. It didn't bother Calhoun one bit to learn that not all of the soldiers here were bent on killing him.
Within his suit, Gordon saw that several of the newcomers wore the white lab coats of scientists. Were these soldiers escorting prisoners to be interrogated at their headquarters? Were they being rescued? Were they being brought here to be executed after they finished the job their former comrades had left for them? Gordon's mind whirled, but a face he recognized brought even more questions.
Dr. Eli Vance approached Shephard. "Corporal, what happened here?"
"A massacre," Shephard said soberly.
"Aside from the obvious, I mean. What was happening here?"
For the first time, Shephard began to take in the overall situation beyond the death of his comrades. The soldiers had been massacred, but for what end? He looked beyond the bodies and searched for some clue that could explain what had been going on here. He had noticed the two armored suits propped up next to the General, and now noticed a third armored suit strapped into a machine on the back of the truck. Shephard surmised, correctly, that the spectacle had revolved around that machine and the armored suit within.
"Whatever happened here, it revolved around that," Shephard said, pointing at the machine.
"Wait," Vance said, gazing at the machine and its occupant. "It can't be! Gordon Freeman!"
Vance rushed towards the machine. Surely enough, the armored suit was a hazard suit, and the machine was an H.E.V. storage unit. Vance did not doubt for an instant that Freeman was trapped inside. He had no idea why or how the hazard suits had been disabled, but they would find out soon enough.
"I need power!" Vance shouted, as he began working several dials on the surface of the H.E.V. storage unit.
"Jackson!" Shephard called out to his engineer.
Jackson disappeared into a back hallway of the garage. Moments later, the lights came back on, announcing that Jackson had found the circuit breaker.
With the power was restored, the H.E.V. storage unit was now fully functional. Dr. Vance continued working the controls of the machine. Rather than strip Gordon's suit off, it now flooded it with energy. In a matter of seconds, Gordon's functionality was fully restored.
Gordon stepped down from the truck, eager to get away from the machine. Chavez and Tower began dragging the other two hazard suits into the device to restore their power as they interrogated Gordon.
"What happened here?" Vance demanded, Shephard close behind him, every bit as curious as Vance.
"We were ambushed by those commandos," Gordon explained. "The soldiers here didn't stand a chance."
Vance noticed that Gordon had left out the details of what the soldiers had been doing before the ambush. Gordon was testing Shephard to see what he knew.
Shephard pressed Gordon for more information. "But what was going on here before the ambush? Who are you and why were you strapped into that machine?"
Gordon paused a moment before responding. "My name is Gordon Freeman. I'm with the security team here at Black Mesa. We were using these hazard suits to assist the soldiers in the defense of the facility. Our suits ran out of power while we were battling the aliens. We were lucky enough to be found by these soldiers. They were trying to restore our suits' power when the commandos ambushed us. There was nothing we could do to help."
It was a carefully crafted and calculated lie that would act as a litmus test. All of the soldiers they had encountered thus far had known about Gordon and his role here at Black Mesa. They had known he was killing their buddies and they all wanted him dead. But this Corporal didn't seem to know who he was. What else did he not know? Did he not know the soldiers had been sent here to exterminate them all?
Shephard nodded, seeming to accept the explanation.
"Now let me ask you something, Corporal," Gordon spoke to Shephard, "What are you doing with these scientists?"
"We were taking them to the nearest safe checkpoint. I'm not sure what we're going to do with them now. The soldiers are pulling out, and there's no safe place left to go."
"I know of one," Gordon replied. "There is one last safe haven here in Black Mesa. I know you have your orders to chase after those commandos, but the three of us can take them there. You'll be safe with us, Dr. Vance. And don't worry, I won't say I told you so."
"Very well," Shephard spoke, clueless as to the meaning of the inside comment. "If you don't mind, Dr. Vance, we'll be leaving now. The trail of the commandos is already getting cold."
"By all means, Corporal. You've done an admirable job taking us this far. I hope you can accomplish your mission and get yourselves out of here in one piece."
"Squad!" Shephard shouted at his team. "Let's get a move on. Those commandos aren't going to stop and wait for us to catch up!"
The soldiers hurriedly left the garage, without so much as a goodbye for the scientists they had escorted across the campus. They hopped into one of their trucks and peeled off down the road.
"What really happened here?" Vance asked, after they were gone.
"Those soldiers were trying to kill us," Gordon said, matter-of-factly. "They were using that machine to strip our hazard suits off, and they would have killed us if the black ops commandos hadn't intervened. We were luckier than most of our friends."
"Are you saying—"
"Yes, the soldiers were actually sent here to silence the science team. There were only two pockets of scientists left by the time we reached the surface, and they never found out about yours. The other resistance is based in the Lambda Complex. We can take you and your group there."
They continued discussing the day's events. Since first encountering the black ops commandos in the warehouse, Shephard's team had brought the group across the campus after them. The commandos had commandeered a military truck from the truck yard outside the warehouse to travel across the campus. The group had borrowed two trucks of their own and followed the trail left by the commandos. The trail had led quite plainly to this garage, but by the time they had arrived the commandos had already come, done their dirty deeds, and gone.
By this time, Gina and Colette had restored power and joined in the discussion. The group of scientists finally came to an agreement that they should collectively go to the Lambda Complex as soon as possible. Since Shephard's team had taken one of their trucks, they would commandeer the Army's truck to take its place.
They hopped back into the trucks, eager to get away from the tomb within the garage. They set off across the campus for the Lambda Complex.
As the caravan drove, they were constantly on guard for an ambush. The trucks were open flatbeds, and everyone felt a bit overexposed. They were grateful that the facility was so well lit. They were still wary every time they drove around a corner, ready for anything.
Several times along their journey they came across a few alien stragglers, but they encountered no organized resistance. It seemed that the aliens were concentrating their forces elsewhere in the facility, which didn't bother the group one bit.
After several tense minutes of driving, the Lambda Complex came into sight. Its nuclear reactor core towers rose high above the horizon, a well-lit beacon in the night. It was a beautiful sight, and Gordon felt a bit like Moses looking out from Mount Nebo over the Promised Land. Gordon's analogy was apt, but he realized that Moses had died within sight of his goal. Gordon nervously realized that now would be the perfect time to ambush the group.
As the group looked out at the Lambda Complex reactors, the ground around them began to vibrate. Their first thought was that it was an earthquake, but there were no major fault lines near Black Mesa. This felt much stronger, and it was still increasing in strength.
The trucks pulled to the side of the road, wary of the unsteady ground. Everyone was beginning to panic, and no one knew what was going on.
As the vibration climaxed, its cause was revealed. The ground behind the caravan erupted in a tower of flame, and for a moment the facility around them was bright as day. A tremendous figure emerged from the towering inferno.
"My God," Vance exhaled, "It's a Gargantua!"
Gordon now had a name to go with a monster they had encountered before. It must have burned its way through the ground all the way from Sector E deep below the surface.
The last time they had gone up against the Gargantua, it had helped them get past an angry mob of soldiers. This time it would be after them.