Gordon Freeman crept down the dark passageway, towards the Citadel, holding his MP7 submachine gun in front of him. He saw two combine soldiers guarding the entrance, and took aim. He wasn't a world-class shot, but he was good enough. And besides, with the iron sights of the MP7, it was almost impossible to miss. Two quick bursts insured the silence of both guards. Gordon cut the distance to the Citadel, and saw the pods, being carried in and out of the dark halls. He shook his head, and shouldered the weapon.
Ten miles away, Barney Calhoun sprinted across the street, bullets panging off the asphalt near his boots. He slid to a stop into an alley, laughing with excitement. He stood up, and peered around the corner. The bullet took a large chunk out of the stone wall, just as he snapped his head back into cover. He grinned, and jogged down the alley, headed for the train station. A massive attack was in progress, raging all over the city. He stepped out of the alley, seeing a pitched firefight taking place. Seven resistance fighters huddled behind an old, beat up Chevrolet. Several yards down the street, at least twenty combine soldiers—led by three elites--spread themselves out across the road and the overpass above. Three snipers stood on two roofs, trying to get an angle.
Barney grinned, and lifted his MP7. He armed the grenade launcher, not bothering to gaze down the site. He moved the weapon in the direction of one of the snipers, and pulled the trigger. The grenade sailed through the air, hitting the rooftop near two of the snipers. It exploded, shattering the men and showering the area in blood and shrapnel. Whooping with delight, he sprinted across the street, leaping onto the trunk of the car and diving forward. He rolled in the grass, crouching behind the fence.
"You boys look like you could use some assistance!" He called to the men. One began to reply, but a bullet took him in the forehead, splashing brain matter on two of his comrades. One leaned over, vomiting his lunch out on the pavement. Barney cringed, and went prone. He crawled forward, barely peeking out from behind cover. He lifted the submachine gun, and looked down the iron sites. He could see the man staring through his scope, his finger on the trigger. Barney fired first, sending a burst of 9mm bullets speeding through the air, and catching the sniper in the chest, throwing him to the street below.
"Nice shot!" Barney heard. He grinned, and began loading a second grenade into the launcher. He slapped it shut, and rolled sideways, leveling the weapon at the overpass. He fired, and the grenade hit home, sinking through a gap in the wall and landing. It exploded, throwing wood and soldier every which way. A moment later, the supports gave way, and the overpass collapsed, crashing onto the road. No more shots came from there.
Barney stood up and, still covering the Combine position, walked slowly to the Chevy. The five surviving defenders stood as well, grinning and smiling at him. One slapped him on the back.
"What's going on, Calhoun?" One of them asked, a young black man, by the name of Jensen. Barney knew him fairly well.
"Alyx and Gordon Freeman are headed for the Citadel. These Combine bastards are through. City 17 will soon be under the control of the good guys!" This elicited several cries of joy from the men and women. "But," Barney continued, "It's not over yet. Gordon may take that sick fuck Breen out, as well as his soldiers, but there is one last enemy for us to face. Those metro-cops, who have made our lives hell for the past twenty years!"
"Kill 'em all!" One of the men yelled, throwing his fist into the air.
"Train station?" A woman, Marie, said to Barney, more of a statement than a question. He nodded in agreement, and then announced it to the rest of them.
"We'll follow you, Calhoun!" Jensen yelled, the others giving them their agreement. Barney turned around, and jogged off, the others following.
Shepard looked up at Breen. He had been the secondary objective, back in Black Mesa. He was the administrator and thus, also responsible for the disaster. He shook his head to clear it, and looked at the man, hatred in his eyes.
"Hello, Corporal Shepard. I trust your stay has been comfortable?" Breen asked sarcastically, getting up and walking around the side of his desk.
"What do you want?" Shepard growled, his voice still hoarse.
"Almost twenty years ago, you were sent to Black Mesa. Your mission: To kill me and my people, to prevent and contain an outbreak. But there was one man in particular, the man who had triggered the portal storm. Gordon Freeman."
Shepard tried to stand up, but noticed he was being held by two white-clad figures, a hand firmly clamped on each shoulder. They looked to be Haz-Mat units, but instead of a gas mask, a single red ocular device covered their faces, staring coldly ahead. He tried to shrug them off, but their grips were strong.
"Don't touch me," He threatened, but the hands did not move. Instantly, Shepard acted, snapping his arm out and connecting with the left guard's kneecap. The man went down, and Shepard lurched backward, knocking the right guard off balance and throwing him to the ground. His elbow came down hard, onto the first guard's throat. Breen did nothing, simply watching.
Shepard rolled to the side, attempting to stand, to strangle this bastard scientist before him. He felt a burning pain in his back, and fell forward. The second guard had pulled a stun-rod. Shepard rolled over, kicking out. But the guard was fast, and grabbed his leg, whacking his thigh with the rod. Waves of electricity shot up Shepard's body, throwing him into spasms. The guard continued to beat him for almost a minute, before Breen stepped forward.
"That's enough!" He called, and the guard backed off. "You'll have to forgive them, Corporal Shepard. As my elite soldiers and guards, they can get a bit carried away at times. Get up, Corporal Shepard, have a seat, have some coffee. You look like hell."
Shepard clambered to his feet, shooting the elite a glare. He limped forward, sinking into the cushioned chair. He noted that Breen was already sitting. The scientist handed him a cup, and Shepard took it eagerly. He downed the entire mug, feeling the hot coffee flood into him. He sighed, and looked at Breen.
"What do you want?" He asked.
"As I was saying. In Black Mesa, your primary objective was to find and neutralize Gordon Freeman. You failed."
"No…" Shepard stammered, the news hitting him like a sledgehammer, "The nuke…that suit freak rearmed it, Freeman was killed in the blast!"
"Ah…the G-man," Breen breathed, almost silently.
"You know him?" Shepard asked, interested.
"We've…met…" Breen said, changing the subject almost immediately. "Sadly, Freeman survived the blast. Over the last twenty years…"
Twenty years! Shepard almost screamed. Have I really been out for twenty years? What the hell is going on!
"He has become a hero-type for the people, a Robin Hood, if you will. We allowed it, figuring he had died at Black Mesa along with the rest. Several weeks ago, we were proved wrong. Freeman has re-emerged, fighting his way through the city, through my people. At first, it was but a minor annoyance. But then, he began to take a serious toll on my soldiers, fighting his way through my city, my coast, and my prison. Freeman has started an uprising; citizens and soldiers are fighting pitched battles in the streets! This cannot be allowed to happen!"
"And…what do you want me for?" Shepard asked, his curiosity aroused.
"You…Corporal Shepard…are a machine. The marines turned you into a trained killer. You were one of seven who escaped Black Mesa, alive. And I want you to limit that number down to two." Breen said coldly.
Shepard realized that he was getting a second chance. Maybe, just maybe, this could be his redemption, from a lifetime of hell. Of course, Breen could not be allowed to live, but that would come later. For now, he would have a mission.
"Who are the others?" He asked.
"Freeman, you already know. Three other scientists survived, by the names of Eli Vance, Isaac Kleiner, and Judith Mossman. Judith was recently a mole in the resistance, but she went rogue two weeks ago. Also, there was a security guard, by the name of Barney Calhoun. And the daughter of Eli Vance: Alyx. Of the six, only four are truly a threat to us. Freeman, Calhoun, and the Vances. Eliminate them first. And…try to make it hurt…ok?" Shepard considered it no further.
"I'll do it."