Denton felt that he was familiar with danger. Hell, by now, he could have gotten married and had three kids with her. But the situation before him now defied all odds.
Standing with imposing authority infront of him was a tall glass of water with futeristic armor that was able to regenerate it's shields. Standing to his left flank was a nerdling with a suit designed to handle the roughest of conditions. Standing on his rear right was a war scarred veterin, a man whose name seemed to spell doom for all his enemies. Every last one of them had a shotgun carefully trained on JC. And due to the triangle that they stood around him in, they could feel free to fire without hitting each other.
The UNATCO agent was afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to sweat. He had his arms rigid behind his head with his fingers tightly interlocking each other. On a desperate whim, JC tried to defuse the situation with a bit of levity.
"So," he began, "Where are all the chicks?"
All hell broke loose.
SIX HOURS AGO
JC had a bottle of pain killers in one hand and a bag of ice to his head in the other as he staggered into Manderley's office. He slumped into an official looking but fairly uncomfortable chair and pushed the bottle of pills into his pocket.
"You ready for the field again, soldier?" Manderley's voice was warm, but the look JC gave in return was not.
"I've had four hours of sleep since my last mission," JC said slowly, making sure no hint of his situation was lost. "And I'm including when I passed out in the hellicopter."
"And believe me, the governenment is grateful for your efforts,"
"I do not believe my doctor has cleared me for field work yet," added JC. "Ten minutes" he thought to himself, "before I fall asleep whereever I am". He then began a mental debate on whether he wanted the hard cot set up in his office or the plush carpet on Manderley's floor. The owner of said carpet was launching into a delicately crafted but unheard speech about loyalty and how we all have to sacrifice things and just that very morning his favorite parking spot was taken and so on.
JC fell into a light doze, his sunglasses preventing Manderly from seeing his drooping eyes. Several minutes later the agent's head dropped onto his chest, and then woke up suddenly as Manderly shouted "Good, I'm glad you've decided to accept the mission!"
"Wha?" Denton asked, looking around.
"What is your task, you ask? Here are the basics; our pilot will fly you down to a research facility in New Mexico. We have reason to believe that..."
FIVE AND A HALF HOURS LATER
JC Denton stepped out of the helicopter, his brother's spare trench coat draping his shoulders. He walked across a barren parking lot and into the reception room for Black Mesa Research facilities, feeling grateful for the air conditioning as the cool air swept over him. As the glass doors slid closed behind him, a security guard with BARNEY emplozend across his badge stepped forward and waved JC through a metal detector. It sang as he stepped through it.
"Could you please remove any metallic items you may be carrying, keys, loose change..."
"I have metallic implants setting off the detectors," JC replied to the guard. He had to suffer the embarrassment of a frisk job, but once that was done, he was in; completely unarmed and without body armor, but he was in.
Walking towards the elevator, the security guard right behind him, Denton suddenly stopped, turned around, gestured through the glass doors and asked, "Hey, what's that?"
"What's what?" Barney replied, taking a step towards the exit to try and see from JC's angle. JC silently reached forward and slid the service pistol out of the guards holster.
"Could have sworn I heard something," added the Agent as he slid the weapon into the side pocket of his coat. "I'm probably just paranoid though."
Barney nodded before turning back around. "You look like hell, pal; they must be working you half to death."
"You have no idea," replied JC, heading once more to the elevator. After the first step, he felt a tug on the right side of his coat. His hand reached instinctively to pat the gun in his pocket, but heard the click of the gun cocking first.
"Don't bother checking," stated Barney. "You're not the only one with light fingers." This caught JC entirely off guard.
"If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"
"I hadn't noticed it - nice and slow. I hadn't noticed it until I realized my side arm was missing, then I noticed that your jacket had a bulge that hadn't been there before;" Barney replied as JC slowly inched his hands into the air. As his hands came to be equal to his ears, JC ducked down low then propelled himself backwards, his hands coming up to snatch the gun away.
It took at most three seconds to snatch the gun back and back hand Barney hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor. The agent then ran to the elevator, madly stabbing the down button to avoid further confrontation.
Barney groaned and opened his eyes to see the dark haired man in sun glasses dashing through the elevator doors and hitting a button. "Wait!" he screamed as the doors slid shut. "You don't want to do that!" but by then it was to late.
JC rocked back on his heels as the elevator slid smoothly down. Cheery elevator music was piped down, a generic melody he couldn't place. He sighed and checked his watch. 6:45. It was off, of course. That is to say, it was keeping the time perfectly; but because of the change in time zones, it was precisely fifty six years and two hours from standard local time. The elevator lurched to a halt. JC expected the doors to open, but realized that wasn't likely once the lights shut out as well.
He groaned in annoyance and began trying to find the emergency button in the dark, but reconsidered when he remembered he had broken into the building and anyone answering the emergency button would probably shoot him. It didn't matter anyway, of course, since the elevator started dropping again, only this time falling fast.
Grunting, JC remembered his vision aug, activated it, popped open the access hatch on the roof of the elevator and slipped out. Once there he spied the ladder slipping past quickly, activated his strength aug and gripped the sides of it, sliding down several yards as the elevator shot away from him. He finally stopped descending, and wrapped his legs around the ladder in order to free his hands.
JC was thinking of how exactly was the best way to pry open the door next to him, when to his shock it slid open and a silhouetted figure stood beyond it. "C'mon", said the figure, "or you'll be trying to open the door for another half hour."
Grateful but still cautious, JC jumped from his ladder to the newly opened entrance. "Paul," he said, straighting. "When did you get here?"
"About two days after you did," replied Paul, turning and beckoning JC to follow.
"What the hell are you talking about?" JC asked, falling in step behind his brother.
"Well, like Manderly tried telling you, everything taking place here is happening towards the end of the twentieth century. Something is keeping this place is a constant time loop."
"I recall."
"Well, since we're technically in the past, we couldn't communicate via infolink-"
"A nice change of pace."
"And so we set up a box to record everything that happened within the time bubble. When you failed to set time right, we recovered the box, and learned everything that had happened."
"Which is why you knew exactly where to meet me."
"Exactly," replied Paul, walking up to a door and punching in an access code. It slid open with a warm, mechanical voice greeting them. "Originally," Paul grinned, "you had to track down that security guard on the ground level and beat the code out of him." He stepped through and JC followed, amazed.
"So where did I go wrong?" JC asked, looking at all the various scientific equipment around them.
"It doesn't matter," Paul's voice was tight and cold. JC felt his stomach knotting.
"Manderly said one of the scientists and two travelers from different time periods sucked here needed to survive. Did one of them die?"
"Once we put this right, everything that happened the first time goes back to normal, and the other two guys will go back to their respective time lines in the future."
"Did I kill one of them?"
"I said it didn't matter." JC stopped cold.
"I didn't kill them," he said, as it dawned on him. "They killed me; I died."
Paul stopped as well, his voice shaking. "That's not going to happen this time, that's why I'm here." He took a pause. "How much do you know about the Black Mesa incident?"
"Only what they taught us at the academy," replied JC, checking his recently acquired pistol. "Some guy named Gordon Freeman..."
There was a sudden hiss and a flash of green light interrupting JC's explanation, and Paul turned to see that he had vanished.
------------
"Loaded a... a sample," JC continued, looking confused. "Into a machine wrong. What the hell?" He looked around, trying to get his bearings. "Paul?" he said aloud tentatively, then louder.
He was in a barren hallway, white walls with a white ceiling pouring white light on the white floor. It seemed extremely sterile, and JC wondered if it was some sort of medical facility. He walked down the hallway and went through a door, stepping into a small round room with a tall ceiling that connected various hallways together. The whole thing was reminding him of an ant hill.
As he walked forward, a door directly ahead of him slid open. All JC saw was the muzzle end of a shotgun pointed straight at him, and all he heard was a deep voice saying, "raise your hands; slowly." He did as he was asked, and heard the sounds of other doors opening around him. He glanced around as much as he dared, trying to figure out who was surrounding him.
Denton felt that he was familiar with danger. Hell, by now, he could have gotten married and had three kids with her. But the situation before him now defied all odds.
Standing with imposing authority in front of him was a tall glass of water with futuristic armor that was able to regenerate it's shields. Standing to his left flank was a nerdling with a suit designed to handle the roughest of conditions. Standing on his rear right was a war scarred veteran, a man whose name seemed to spell doom for all his enemies. Every last one of them had a shotgun carefully trained on JC. And due to the triangle that they stood around him in, they could feel free to fire without hitting each other.
The UNATCO agent was afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to sweat. He had his arms rigid behind his head with his fingers tightly interlocking each other. On a desperate whim, JC tried to defuse the situation with a bit of levity.
"So," he began, "Where are all the chicks?"
All hell broke loose.
JC ducked down as all three shot guns roared to life, then twisted and leapt at at the one in the orange body armor. Grabbing the man in glasses and holding him in front, JC was spared the brunt of the force as the other two assailants fired their shotguns mercilessly.
The scientist pulled mightily at JC's arm, the micro hydrolics in his armor groaning to output more strength. He had no way to gain leverage, however, and JC maintained a firm grasp.
The pellets pinged off the HEV suit as JC dragged the nerd backwards away from their two attackers. He heard a pair of doors sliding open behind him as he backed up, and made a simple plan; back into the next room, drag the guy he held into some cover, crack his neck, plan next step. He simply assumed that the door was automatically set to open when it was approached. This, as it turned out, was wrong.
JC of course had no way of noticing that a single pellet had smacked into a small square button with a down arrow on it. And although he was aware that at least one elevator in the building was out of order, he could only guess about the condition of the other elevators. The one immediately behind JC, as he realized as he stepped off the floor and onto nothing, was also out.
Gordon Freeman and JC Denton fell three stories down the shaft and landed on top of an elevator. The automatic locks, which had prevented the elevator from going down to the bottom of the base, snapped clean off from the sudden added weight and the two fighters began to plunge. JC was vaugeley able to register that he could hear shotguns going off somewhere above him.
The elevator came to a crushing stop on the bottom floor, as it's ceiling caved in and the two men slid into the small room. Incredibly, one of the lights was still on, pleasant music piped in from the speakers, and the elevator doors slid open with a charming ding.
JC activated his regeneration aug, which was the only thing that kept him from slipping into unconsciousness. He turned and looked at the man next to him, and heard a slightly effeminate voice emanating from his suit, as it detailed the procedures it was taking to save the owners life.
"What the hell is your deal?" JC asked, attempting to shift into a more comfortable spot. The man looked at him and said nothing. The UNATCO agent peered more carefully at the face of the man, partially obscured by glasses. He swore, then pulled up a list of images Manderly had downloaded into his data bank.
"It is imperative," Manderly had stressed earlier, "That these three men survive. They all go on to do very important things in their life times." JC checked one of the images against the man before him.
Glasses? Check.
Short, brown hair? Check.
Goatee? Check.
JC swore again.
SOMEWHERE ON THE SURFACE
Paul was tearing his way through Black Mesa, trying to figure out where his brother had done. It all seemed so obvious now.
The party of three had somehow learned what was going on, and was under the belief that JC was out to get them. They must have passed on information to themselves; perhaps analyzed the data storage box and sent as much information into the next cycle as they could, and thus was able to set up a trap. Paul stopped short.
No, that was silly. Probably JC was targeted by one of the random teleporting systems that had so recently been causing problems.
The agent stepped out a door and a blast of heat struck him in the face. He squinted his eyes as he walked out, wishing that he could see his brother; or at least have his brother's sun glasses. He was about to call out JC's name when he heard a roar of battle.
Squinting some more, he was able to tell that there was a short fence ahead of him. He jogged up, and saw that the fence seemed to stretch around a gigantic circle, in which was a huge depression. Several meters down and several more meters off, Paul could vaugly see shadows moving and lights flashing. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he began to realize the extent of the chaos.
The incident at Black Mesa was getting worse. Somehow, a loophole in time had been stuck in a 24 hour period here. Gordon Freeman had been getting up every morning, heading to work, causing a huge catastrophe, and fighting for his survival every day for over fifty years.
Except that Paul was now realizing that he wasn't in the same fight each time; the chaos of the resonance cascade scenario meant that gradually, things changed, and the evidence was playing out in front of him.
A huge behemoth creature that seemed to be part machine and part demon launched a missile at a small group of teleporting aliens. Shortly before their violent demise, they had each sent a bolt of greenish electricity arching over to a large armor clad thing with a glowing sword, who was shaking off the effects of their attack and was now charging the cyber-demon with a large glowing sword. The cyber-demon turned to meet the sword welder head on, but sword-guy was stopped dead in his tracks when a small creature jumped up and landed on his face. The cyber-demon instead turned around to greet a small group of small aliens firing plasma bolts at him, but they shrieked and ran as soon as he shot the first rocket.
Paul stumbled away from the fence with his head spinning. A horrible thought suddenly struck him; how long had he himself been stuck in the loop of time? How many times had he made this same discovery?
SOMEWHERE BELOW THE SURFACE
"Alright Mr. Freemon," JC said evenly, as they both crawled out of the elevator. "Let's go look for some med kits. I mean first aid kits." JC sighed as he remembered why he was so under equipped in the first place; Manderly was adamant that they not "pollute the past with future technology." That's why the sent the most technologically advanced person into fifty years ago. Idiot.
The agent couldn't figure out how to explain his position to the scientist; UNATCO wouldn't be formed for quite some time. He mulled it over for a moment as he scooped down one of two crowbars that were laying next to some open crates. He heard his companion pick up the other one. Good, now they were both armed; they had lost their weapons in the fall, and JC was utterly unable to find the guards government issued glo-
Hey, there was an idea. JC would have smiled, if he could, having solved his dilemma. "Don't worry," he called over his shoulder. "You can trust me. I work for the government." Simple, straight to the point. Only a sudden wosh from behind alerted JC to duck as the head of Freeman's crowbar almost nailed him.
JC spun around, bringing up the crowbar to block another strike from Freeman. "Hey!" JC barked, "I said I work for the government!" Apparently, Freeman had heard.
They scuffeled against each other for a while, trying to figure out how to beat the other one. JC should have been able to easily kill him, but this strangely was not the case. First of all, of course, JC's bio energy had run out before he was fully regenerated, meaning he was both fairly injured AND had no augs.
Freeman, on the other hand, may have been injured, but was jazzed up with so many painkillers he didn't feel it. In addition, the suit he wore enhanced his ordinarily puny strength, putting him at equal setting with JC.
They broke away from each other, panting heavily. Freeman gripped his crowbar towards the base like a sword; meanwhile JC had his hands separated, holding it more like a staff. They stared each other down, sizing each other up.
Freeman took a step forward. JC took a step back. Freeman, another step forward. JC maintained his distance. The scientist suddenly lunged forward with the crowbar, swinging low. At first JC didn't understand why he did that, but then realized that Freeman was targeting his hands.
JC shifted his arms down, blocking the strike. The enemy crowbar reverberated loudly against his, and Freeman used the reverse momentum to swing his arm back, then towards JC's head. JC ducked down, then punched forward with his crowbar, shoving the rear end of it into the scientists nose. The scientist stumbled back, blood spurting down his face, his suit bleeping about the damage done.
JC was fed up. He was sent here against his wishes, to rescue people trying to kill him, when he was practically dead on his feet. He raised the crow bar over his head, and brought every ounce of his frustration, everything from Manderly to lack of sleep, down on Freeman's skull. The scientist slumped to the floor, glasses askew. Now there would be no one to fight off the alien hordes.
Suddenly, JC's vision was obscured by Pauls face as the infolink kicked in. "JC, I have some news." JC was about to interrupt on how this was possible, when he realized that of course, Paul could contact him via infolink since he was actually there. Obviously.
"There seems to be a room isolated from the rest of computer networks, in the 'Chronological Research Station'. Do you know where it is? No," he added before JC could interject, "of course you don't. Don't worry, I'll give you directions."
"Wait, Chronological Research? You mean they were studying time?"
"Right."
"So that's what's keeping this place in a loop? A completely different experiment gone wrong?"
"Impossible to say at this point. For all we know, the experiment went exactly to plan."
For the next half hour JC faithfully followed Pauls disembodied voice as he was guided through various rooms, stopping along the way to kill various monsters. By the time he had gotten to the Research lab, he had managed to pick up a new pistol, a shotgun, and a handful of grenades.
"Arn't there supposed to be marines or something?" asked JC as he found no signs of human life, even other scientists, around the building.
"I'm guiding you around them. I've got historical documents here identifying where they went, so you're taking the scenic route. Once you get to the time based research facility, I'll leave this security council and come meet you there."
JC approached a giant pair of glass doors as Paul signed off again. He went up and knocked as a gray haired scientist came up to answer. "What is it?" he demanded, flustered at being interrupted.
"Hi," JC said. "Are you setting up any experiments involving time at the moment?"
"I will be if the power holds, we've been having troubles all day!"
"Right. What is the experiment?"
"Basically, if it works, today will repeat itself tomorrow. Although I'm no sure I want today repeating; I've had the worst trouble with my equipment."
"You're not the only one. So if today repeats, how will you know it happened?"
"Well, I'd remember it, obviously."
"Right, but if time rewound and played back, it'd be like it was happening the first time, wouldn't it? You'd be creating an infinite time loop. Could cause some problems."
"Hmm." the scientist paused in thought, then sighed. "I suppose you're right. The modifications to the equipment to make sure I'm aware that the experiment is a success will take at least another day or so, but maybe it's better safe then sorry. Well, actually, if I adjust the input modifier, I have a much more likely chance of being aware of time repassing--"
"Schedule it for your next day off!" JC said suddenly. "I mean right? Who wouldn't want an extra day to kick back, huh? You could just read the report on it the next morning."
"Not a bad idea, but the administrator is breathing down my neck as it is... oh, to hell with it. I could use the rest."
"That's the spirit. Now, lock the doors here so that you're not interrupted."
"Another good idea. I can see you're a man of intelligence. A pleasant change of pace." The old man smiled and closed the door, hitting a button to seal it in place. JC sighed as the scientist walked away, then stared in disbelief as several small bright red holes suddenly appeared in his back. He pounded the door with his fists, calling out to the fallen scientist, but it was to no avail.
He leaped back as a slim middle aged man suddenly walked in front of him from across the glass door. The man smiled as he hit the intercom button with one hand, and held a small pistol in the other..
"Missster Denton, I presume? I'm afraid you're proving to be a nuissance." JC pulled out the pistol and shot several times at the mans head, but the glass separating them proved to be unbreakable. "Don't worry, I've asked some of your friendsss to help you passss the time." The man smiled, then walked away. JC hard a door slide open behind him. Turning around were the two men he had been instructed not to kill. They, however, had received no such instructions regarding him. JC dived out of the way of the first wave of shotgun pellets.
JC had two options; run away, and let the large area spray of the shotguns they wielded easily hit and cripple him. Or, he could attack them head on, and hope that he could take them out before he was lacerated. He spied a ventilation shaft over by where they were standing and formed a crude plan.
On a whim, he rolled towards them, then came up crushing his fists against their chests, putting everything he had into the double blow. The pair of them were knocked onto their backs, but quickly swung their weapons up to fire again. JC activated leg enhancement and leaped vertically through the ventilation shaft, then activated his strength aug to climb up the vertical shaft.
"Damn, he is good," he heard a voice below him say. JC came to an intersection and pulled himself into the horizontal duct, but not before he heard a hissing noise and a blue staticy light filled his vision. He looked behind him and saw a small blue ball glued to his over coat. JC panicked and pulled the coat from his shoulders and tossed it back down the shaft, hearing the small bomb detonate seconds later. He winced at that; his shotgun had been in there. He felt his pockets; one contained a hand grenade, the other had his pistol. Checking the animation, he realized he had only two bullets.
A hand grenade flew up through the shaft and settled next to him. He swatted it back down the hole and crawled away as he heard panicked cries behind him.
As he had hoped, he was able to find his way into the time research lab using the ventilation shafts. He dropped down into the room, looking around. First thing he noticed was the scientist who had been killed by the man in the suit. The only other things in the room was a large computer bank and another set of doors. He went over to the computer and started clicking around.
He didn't have much of a clue what half the physics were about, but he was able to tell that the experiment had been "running" for over fifty years. The time bubble around Black Mesa was being generated by a machine. If the machine breaks down, the time bubble will collapse the next time it is set to reset. Seemed fairly simple, really.
Denton stood and walked over to the solid door, and it slid open for him. Beyond it was a mechanical behemoth, a complicated array of mirrors and energy beams that formed, if one knew what to look for, a four dimensional topographical map of Black Mesa. JC began to wonder just how he'd destroy the device when he heard the glass door sliding open behind him.
They must have hacked it, JC realized as he ran into the time generator room. He looked down as he pulled out his pistol and noticed for the first time a thick coating of dust on the floor.
A hail of shotgun pellets and plama bursts caught his attention away from his feet. The space marine came in first, holding a shotgun in front of him. JC stepped forward, grabbed the barrel, and jerked it up before his opponent could get another shot off. He raised his pistol and shot the marine in the neck between his helmet and body armor as another shotgun around blew harmlessly above his head, albeit ruffling his hair slightly.
The other soldier stepped in immediately after that, carrying some sort of alien plasma blaster. Again, JC tried to force the plasma weapon out of a useful direction, this time using his left hand to shove the gun right while firing the pistol underneath his arm.
The last bullet plinked against a forcefield surrounding the giants armor, before said giant swung his empty hand around and tried to punch JC in the jaw. Instead, JC ducked down below the strike and streaked past him, and whipped the but of the pistol against the back of his opponents head.
The unnamed soldier was momentarily stunned by this before he swung back with his elbow, nailing JC in the chest. The UNATCO agent stumbled back, almost tripped over the body of the dead marine, flailing, and in the process his arm passed through one of the energy beams forming a giant spider web around the room. JC looked at his hand in shock, or rather, where his hand should have been; instead, it lay on the ground, still gripping the pistol, leaving a stump for the nano-aug to defend himself with.
Not taking the time to come to grips with his new handicap, JC spun around and ran frantically around the room, looking for cover from the plasma bolts that rained around him. In desperation he grabbed one of the mirrors that reflected the beams around the room and twisted it, trying to aim a cannon of energy at the enemy soldier. Instead the man jumped out of the way and came crashing down on top of JC.
The agent landed on his back as his enemy toward over him, bringing the plasma gun level with his head. JC kicked up and hit the super soldier in the back then rolled to his feet as his remaining hand pulled out his remaining hand grenade. He pushed down on the lever and pulled the pin out with his teeth. That's when he noticed that the super soldier had switched from the plasma weapon back to the shotgun. With his nose practically plugging the barrel, JC barely had time to register the sound of the trigger being pulled before his face was pulverized with a hot load of lead. He stumbled back as his world darkened, and as his body fell to the ground, his grip on the hand grenade loosened.
Paul ran through the open door of the research station in time to see an explosion rock inside the blue tiled room across from him. A few seconds later, a powerful beam erupted from the computer bank, as one of the energy streams ate its weight through the wall. The computer beeped and started to hiss, and then the energy beam flickered and dissipated as power was shot down. There was only a brief sentence on the monitor of the computer when Paul went to examine it.
"End of line."
EARLIER THAT DAY
JC woke up from his doze as the helicopter sailed towards the Black Mesa Research facility. Looking out the window, all he could see was a decrepit old building with nothing to offer but a dreary time.
"This is the place?" he asked incredulously. The pilot nodded, the pressed his hand against his headset.
"Change of plans," the pilot announced, as the chopper swerved slightly into a new direction. "We simply have to pick up a recording box and bring it back to UNATCO HQ."
"That's it? They sent me half way across the country for a pick up job?" The pilot shrugged. JC fell back into his seat, mumbling.
When they reached the appropriate spot, a hidden alcove on the highest building, JC jumped out and landed next to a small metallic box. It was a rusted thing, but showed signs of advanced technology. He shrugged and picked up, then jumped back into the waiting helicopter.
