Chapter Three: Primacy
Shephard felt a knot in his stomach as he entered the meeting room and took his seat beside Baron Brown. The Baron, an eccentric man and the mayor of City 12, shot the General an angry glance for keeping them waiting. Shephard shrugged as casually as he could and looked across the table at the sour faces of the three Templar leaders who had arranged this meeting.
The first he recognized as Warren Vidic. Desmond had warned him of the old man who, despite being at least eighty years old, was still one of the leaders of the Templar Order. The second was a woman who Shephard had seen around the City before. Although the General rarely left the side of his troops he had encountered Vera Novosa before. Here in City 12 she ran several public apartment buildings offering free room and board to civilians who had no other place to stay. Her charity was only out done by her beauty. Despite being in her mid-fifties her hair still retained its dark brown color and healthy sheen and her eyes, as green as jade jewels, still shone brightly. Shephard was shaken from his thoughts by the third Templar clearing his throat. The man's name was Richard Smith but despite having so innocuous a name Shephard knew the man was not to be trifled with.
"Sorry I'm late," Shephard said nervously.
"I'm sure it was Desmond who kept you," Vera mused, her sultry Russian accent causing Shephard's ears to perk up.
"I only wish it had been one as beautiful as you," Shephard said with a smile.
"Enough," Vidic demanded banging his elderly fist against the table, "Can we get down to business?"
"What business do you have with my city?" Baron Brown asked playing with one of the illustriously large rings he wore on his fingers.
"It is not your city we have business with Baron," Richard Smith replied, "We have a prior arrangement with someone we believe to be in the city."
"Who?" The Baron asked.
"Julian Miles," Richard replied.
"Well than why didn't you just meet with him?" The Baron complained, "I'm a very busy man, I've got a damned entire city to run."
"Please Baron," Vera said calmly, "If we knew were Mister Miles was we wouldn't have called this meeting. He does not appear to be within the walls of your fair city, or if he is he is hiding."
"What is your business with Julian?" Shephard asked trying to keep his tone from being accusatory.
"The Templars have assisted the Resistance at great risk to our organization," Vidic explained, "It has become ten times harder to keep our men hidden amongst Combine ranks. Do you know we chose to aid you so readily? Because Julian Miles made a deal, he offered me the Apple of Eden in exchange for our help. I have been very patient but it has been more than two years now since that deal. I am here to receive my payment. I want a Piece of Eden."
"You cannot deny that you have some of the Pieces," Vera said with a devious grin, "Desmond himself used them at Golgotha. The deal will be one Piece of Eden and we leave, for two pieces we will offer your city food supplies and more than a thousand fresh soldiers."
"If we refuse?" Shephard asked.
"The boy made a deal," Vidic growled, "I want my Piece of Eden! The Templars will pull every last bit of man-power, every soldier, and every bit of support from the Resistance!"
"With Julian out of town and Desmond to weak to meet us we leave it to you General," Vera cooed, "To do the right thing."
Shephard felt a massive weight on his shoulders. He knew the Pieces of Eden held strange power and had watched Desmond use them on numerous occasions. Shephard himself wasn't an assassin by blood or by creed, he'd sworn no allegiance to them and without the Templars bolstering them the Resistance would be weaker and the Combine could easily gain the upper-hand. With the City filled with newborn children such a tip in the balance of power could be devastating to the Resistance and ultimately to the destiny of the entire human species. Then again, he reasoned, giving the Templars such powerful weapons could potentially backfire. For several moments the dizzying potential consequences of either decision played and replayed in Adrian Shephard's mind until at last he stood.
"You've left me with little choice," Shephard said with his eyes lowered in shame, "I will get you what you requested."
"Like hell you will," an angry voice resounded. Shephard spun to see Desmond standing there without the use of a cane with a sour expression on his more youthful than usual face.
"Sir," Shephard exclaimed, "You're up!"
"Up and better than ever," Desmond remarked, "Not a moment too soon I might add. You were about to give the Templars what they've always wanted."
"You owe us Mister Miles," Vidic reminded, "Many Templars have died for your cause."
"For our cause," Desmond corrected, "For the cause of the human race. Perhaps that's the difference between our two Orders Warren. Your selfish Templar order thinks of nothing but its own power. We fought, Assassin beside Templar, to restore hope to humanity. No Warren, the Pieces stay with us."
"Back stabbing assassin!" Vidic spit, "Have you no fucking honor?"
"I have honor," Desmond replied with a bow, "But you know the Creed."
"Very well Mister Miles," Vera replied putting a calming hand on Vidic's shoulder, "We shall not bother you again about such matters."
The three Templars stood and shook hands with the three Resistance leaders before their escort of Templar soldiers entered to see them out. Shephard sat in his seat with shoulders slumped feeling an overwhelming amount of shame swelling within him. The Baron, sensing the tension between the two of them quickly exited the room with his own escort made up of several beautiful women but very few actual guards. Desmond sighed and sat down beside his friend. Silence indwelled the air for a time until Desmond shattered it.
"Don't beat yourself up about it," Desmond advised patting his friend on the back, "Any man of conscience in your position would have done the same."
"But you didn't do the same," Shephard complained.
"But I'm not in the same position," Desmond countered, "I understand the Templars better than you."
"Do you think they will pull their troops?" Shephard asked.
"They were bluffing to get you to agree," Desmond argued, "If they do pull out of our Resistance they will be weakening themselves. Remember there are far more Resistance members who aren't Templars than ones who are."
"And what about you?" Shephard laughed, "Up and about in front of them! And you look so young again!"
"I look my own age," Desmond corrected, "These past few weeks have been good to me. I think I'm ready to resume active duty as Resistance leader."
"I'm glad to hear you say that," Shephard smiled but his expression quickly turned grim, "The people are getting restless."
Julian moved through the trees with lightning quick feet and silent steps stalking the Combine patrol in the waning daylight. A wispy spring wind was whistling through the trees only further masking his approach. Alyx and the others were likely far ahead of the group now setting up for the inevitable ambush. The assassin had to move quickly as the patrol was nearly out of sight as they sped by. He had never seen these vehicles before but they seemed designed to maneuver into far tighter spaces than the bulky Combine APCs. For one they had only three wheels and were designed for only one rider. They were out of sight now but the track they left was unmistakable.
Julian took a bit of time to catch his breath. Alyx's needlework on his wound had been much better than his initial job but the wound was still infected and without antibiotics Julian feared it would only worsen. He couldn't let that fact slow him down however and, to his relief, his fever had not returned since they left the swamp early that morning. His feet carried him forward now following the trail and hoping Alyx and the others were in position up ahead.
Night was falling over the Dismal Swamp and as darkness swiftly approached something beneath the muck and mud began to move. As if rising from a shallow grave a pale hand reached out of the mud toward the sky. Hours of unconsciousness had been followed by several minutes of digging, tunneling out from under the metallic body of the Drop Ship that had crashed into the swamp earlier that morning. Finally, covered in muck and seething with unholy rage the creature lifted itself to its full height.
The gangly alien heaved deeply taking in the heavy humid air of the swamp. The swamp was alive with sounds, a chorus of insects and birds swirled in the alien eardrums of Theron. The bounty hunter lifted his wrist and hit a few switches on his gauntlet activating a wrist bound light to illuminate his surroundings. He turned toward the wreckage of the Drop Ship that had nearly killed him. He saw the broken bodies of several of his assassin servants beneath the body of the massive Synth. The bounty hunter wasn't one for remorse or sadness, especially when it was humans who had died.
The alien had spent the last decade hunting down humans. What little he knew of their history told him all he needed to know of their nature. Selfish and greedy, malicious and prejudiced, human nature was a disease that needed to be wiped clean of the Universe. It almost pained Theron that the Combine were keeping some humans alive on purpose, putting them through experiments and using them as slaves. In his mind the human race wasn't even fit for slavery. Still, having nearly been killed by a human, he had to admit they had survival skills. Than again, he mused in his own mind, so did bacteria.
Theron turned to see that one of the assassins had survived - she stood with her helmet off revealing steel-blue eyes that seemed almost robotic to the bounty hunter. He offered her a look of contempt and turned away looking for signs of which way his target had gone off.
"They've headed west," the assassin informed him, "I found their trail a few hours ago when I came to."
"And you didn't start to follow it?" Theron growled.
"I wasn't sure what to do," the assassin replied honestly with a look of remorse in her eyes, "I thought it would be better to wait and see if you survived, I-"
Theron cut her short by cutting her throat. One less bacteria. He looked around and it wasn't long until he found some sign that they'd been there even recognizing the soft steps of the assassin. Something moved behind him then, the mud lifted up beneath him and a massive metallic hand clamped around his throat. The beast, Dog, crushed at his throat. Theron lifted his wrist and watched the robotic beast fall once more. He hit another switch on his wrist; this one activated a beacon alerting the Combine to his whereabouts.
"This is Theron, I'm alive, I'm the only Survivor," he said coldly into his communicator which had been built to be immune from the EMP, "Send me a ship."
Julian watched as the Combine soldiers struggled to hold their own even against enemies who were essentially unarmed. They hadn't escaped the swamp with a single bullet to their name yet here they were. Julian moved in while Alyx, Allison and Jara drew the fire of the Combine soldiers. The assassin watched as Jara's expert swordsmanship and agile motions ended the life of a HUD soldier. Jara took his gun and cut down another three soldiers only narrowly avoiding their Pulse Rifle rounds. There were fives soldiers left. Alyx took on one at first trying to use a small knife she had somehow concealed but eventually devolving into a fist fight. Julian felt a smile come to his lips when the drop-dead gorgeous Alyx Vance made the soldier drop-dead.
The assassin moved in for the kill taking aim with his wrist-mounted crossbow. He had only one bolt left and he wanted to make it count. He took aim from his tree branch perch and watched the bolt burrow into the back of the soldier. The Overwatch soldier tried to grab at the dart but Julian had put it in an unreachable position. Allison walked up to the man and threw a slight nod in Julian's direction before punching the patrolman's lights out. Julian dropped down and rushed in hoping to have at it with the last soldier who happened to be a Combine Elite but the three women already had him begging for mercy before he got there.
"I just can't have any fun with you ladies around," Julian complained.
"You had yourself a good run right?" Alyx asked shooting the soldier in the head when his begging turned into an attempt to knife her with a hidden blade.
"I didn't know the Combine used hidden blades," Allison remarked looking to Julian.
"They don't," Julian remarked, "Maybe he's a former Assassin."
"Or the Combine have learned that a simple trick is often the best kind," Jara said checking the man's hand, "He's not one of us, he doesn't have the mark."
"We need to get moving and make camp," Alyx said before turning to Julian who still seemed out of breath, "You alright?"
"Fine," Julian confirmed, "Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Jara asked.
"Nearest Resistance stronghold is a place called Hunter's Fall, its a few hundred miles farther west in the mountains," Julian explained.
"We'll be able to rest there," Alyx said, "Mend our wounds and be safe from Theron."
The group left a few moments later taking the Combine's vehicles with them. The three-wheeled bikes moved fairly quickly, much quicker than feet could carry them over the terrain. They made camp about a mile away in a little valley shrouded in pine trees. The darkness of the night was already full blown and stars filled the sky with dazzling color. They were too afraid to risk a fire although the Combine patrol had been carrying a satchel of snacks that Julian knew were not standard issue for the Combine.
Julian lay beside Allison but she seemed not to respond. Her eyes were locked on the stars as awkward silence overtook them. Julian sighed and Allison offered her own sigh right back. Julian yawned - so did Allison. The assassin grew tired of the games so he did something he knew would get her attention. She spun on him quickly and even in the dark he could feel her angry glare and beautiful blue eyes burrowing into him.
"What?" he asked feigning innocence.
"You pinched my ass that's what," Allison said.
"I was just being playful," Julian defended.
"We're in the middle of the forest in Virginia on the run from bounty hunters," Allison complained, "What makes you think I'm in the mood to be playful?"
"You didn't have to come after me," Julian said but his tone was gentle rather than angry, "I know that I go out on my own a lot but I just don't want you to get hurt. I love you Allison but I have other obligations to. I know you want to be the center of my Universe, and I understand that and in many ways you are but there's more at work in this world than you and I."
"I know that," Allison said laying her head gently on his shoulder, "I understand why you go out. I know why you do what you do but knowing doesn't stop me from worrying. I just got carried away this time. I don't want you to stop fighting for humanity, for the Resistance, for the Assassin Order. I just want you to do it with me at your side."
Julian held her close and kissed her gently as she slowly fell asleep. He turned his head towards the heavens and closed his eyes swearing the starlight was bleeding through his eyelids. He could hear something amidst the whispering spring wind and the sound of insects - a faint pulsation, distant and weak, growing stronger as sleep took him.
Shephard sat slumped over at the bar with a drink in each hand. He rarely if ever left the company of the soldiers under his command and even then he typically hung around in far nicer places than the seediest tavern in City 12 known as The Headcrab. He felt truly out of place amidst the rabble of the crowd. Even more out of place were his companions that night who seemed more worried about his wellbeing than their own.
Hassan Aldi was dressed in his full assassins robe though the one he'd decided to wear was black in order to avoid any stains traveling this deep into the city. The shadows of night were far kinder to this particular ensemble and Hassan felt if he needed to he could disappear even in City 12 which had at least 80,000 people living within its walls. Shephard knew Hassan fairly well, these last three years the assassin had helped Shephard learn several knew skills about how to blend in with crowds and free run with the best of them.
Next to Hassan, on Shephard's left, was General Amber Cartwright who, like Shephard, was pounding down drinks like there was no tomorrow. Unlike Adrian she was used to this sort of setting and many of the patrons of The Headcrab had seen her there before. Also unlike Shephard she knew how to hold her liquor and even though she'd drank twice as much as Shephard she was not even half as drunk.
"If we lose the Templars we lose the war," Shephard said with a saddened expression as he emptied another shot glass and asked for more.
"We won't lose the Templars picklepuss," Cartwright reminded taking three shots in the time it took Shephard to take one.
"As hasty as Desmond's decision seems," Hassan reasoned, "It is still the right one. The Templars may be helping us now but if they got hold of the Pieces of Eden they might use them to sway the masses. That is what the Templars are best at and the Pieces would only make them better."
"Hey," Amber said stumbling to her feet, "I'm gonna get out of here, you guys have fun. I'm gonna fucking puke."
"I'll take her home," Hassan said, "Are you going to be alright?"
"I'll be fine," Shephard responded in an unconvincing tone.
"Don't worry," Hassan suggested, "Do not lose hope."
As Hassan left Shephard noted the eyes of the crowd on him, narrowed eyes, and suspicious eyes. He shrugged it off for a moment until a grimy man with yellow teeth and a wiry build got up on stage and stepped up to the microphone. At first Shephard assumed the man would offer a song or perhaps tell a joke but his eyes went wide when he heard what the man was saying.
"Brothers," the man began with a bow, "the time of stagnation will soon come to an end. I know that you, like me, have been sickened by the lack of progress our fair City and our Resistance have undergone under the rule of that bumbler Desmond Miles. The old man is said to be all but dead yet his son Julian is off on a secret mission! These Assassins are scum! They abandon us and our cause to seek their own riches. Julian is off stockpiling wealth for the Assassin Order. Indeed these bastards are insidious, devious and downright dictatorial. They have freed our reproduction here but they leave the rest of our Earth, the rest of our Resistance, in shackles and unable to conceive. I say it is time we cast off these bumbling moronic and tyrannical Assassins and forge ahead with a new leader! There are those amongst us of another Order, a much older Order, a much more honorable Order who-"
Shephard, hardly thinking of what he was doing, pressed the man's throat shut with his hands and shook the man with all his might. He tossed the man off the stage to the bar floor below heaving and huffing as he did. The man stood with a knife in hand ready to cut Shephard but even drunk Adrian Shephard wasn't the sort of soldier to be so readily fucked with. Out stretched the knife ready to pierce his flesh, up came one of his arms, down the other and Shephard, with all his force. The knife dropped and the man recoiled. Dozens of others now sprang up but Shephard, hardly able to stand, wasn't in any condition to fight off a bar full of enemies. The man who had been on staged waved them back while trying to determine if the arm was broken. Satisfied that it wasn't he took up a fighting stance as if this time he would be the victor. Shephard grabbed the man and thrust him against the wall lifting the man up and putting pressure on his collar bone.
"Alright, enough!" the man squeaked, "What do you want?"
"I want to know who's been filling your head with lies," Shephard slurred out, "Who thinks they can replace Julian and his Father?"
"I'm not allowed to tell someone like you," the man replied, "You work for them, if I tell you-"
"WRONG! If you don't tell me that's when you're in the real trouble!"
"There's a man named Emil, Emil Nemico," the man replied, "They aren't lies though Mister. With all due respect we're tired of being tired. We want the world to go back to normal! We want those Combine fuckers out of our atmosphere, out of our whole fucking galaxy."
"We share a common goal then," Shephard said releasing the man, "But we can't get there overnight or by being stupid. Now tell me where I can find Emil Nemico."
"He has a meeting tonight out in the suburbs on the east side," the man replied, "Look if he finds out I spilled the beans."
"He won't be able to do anything," Shephard said, "I'm gonna get you a ride to the Baron's place, you'll be staying there under armed guard."
"I'm going to jail?"
"Not exactly," Shephard explained, "Think of it as the witness protection program, supposing you're old enough to remember what that is. Now when does this meeting take place?"
Shephard crouched in the shadows using every bit of stealth he had to remain concealed. It had taken him more than two hours to make it into the suburbs. Along the way he'd followed a trail of information which he'd coerced out of several soldiers and many seedier individuals. During those hours the General had plenty of time to sober up. He could see the culprits now and though they hadn't identified each other by name at the start of their meeting he easily discerned which one was Emil Nemico. Three of those meeting were dressed in rags, their posture was atrocious and even from his shadow shrouded rooftop perch Shephard could smell them. The fourth member on the other hand stood tall, was well groomed with clean skin and teeth that shimmered even in the dim torchlight that lit the alley. Shephard took measure of the man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties and spoke with a slight accent. The man's cadence and tone seemed melodious as Shephard listened to him talk.
"What information do you bring me?" Emil asked of the first man.
"Vera sent me Emil," the man squeaked, "She wants to see you tomorrow, it's about Desmond."
"What about the old man?" Emil pressed.
"He isn't so sick after all," the first man replied, "He's going to be a thorn in the side of all Templars if he's allowed to continue."
"I though for sure that decrepit old fool would drop dead any day," Emil whispered angrily, "With so many Templars in City 12 he very well might still. What information have you brought?"
"Its Cheng, that damned inventor sir," the second man replied.
"He's missed his payment," the third said.
"That bastard has been late for every single payment," the second man growled.
"What do you want?" Emil asked, "You want my permission to kill him?"
"At the very least maim him," the third man requested.
"As long as I get my money," Emil said, "When will you get it?"
"Tonight," the two men replied simultaneously, "We'll deliver it to you tomorrow, before your meeting with Vera."
"Very well gentlemen," Emil said with a grin, "Soon... soon our Order will be in control again and I will be at the head of that Order. Until next time gentlemen."
Shephard watched the enigmatic man walk away at a swift pace before seeming to vanish into the all enveloping shadows. The General couldn't allow these three cretins to harm anyone and yet he felt compelled to chase after Nemico and learn more about him. Facing yet another uncomfortable moral dilemma Shephard slipped form his perch and began pursuing the three would-be killers through the night. They were quick despite their wiry builds and gangly bodies and in the darkness Shephard could barely see them.
He stopped in his tracks as the three of them scaled the wall of City 12 as if it were nothing. Hoping that he could remember all that Hassan had taught him about free-running Shephard rushed toward the wall leaping up to grab a hand hold. Although slower than the three enemies he was chasing Shephard did make it over the wall. His eyes caught sight of his targets rushing over rooftops some distance away. Shephard took off like a bolt of lighting. Despite being in his mid-forties he covered ground quite quickly managing to keep his quarry in sight without alerting them to the fact he was following. His heart pounded in his ears as at last the chase came to an end with nearly half the City behind him and the sun nearly on its way up. He watched as they knocked at the door to a small house that was clearly built after the Combine invasion and, in fact, after the City had been taken back from the Combine years earlier.
A man answered the door. He was far younger than Shephard had expected, possibly not even out of his twenties, with a blending of Chinese and American features and clearly homemade spectacles aiding his eyes. The man's face bleached white as the three men forced their way inside his home and shut the door behind them. Shephard, still out of breath, approached but found the door locked. He crawled atop the roof searching for entry.
"The boss has had enough of your bullshit Cheng," one of the thugs said approaching the man's work desk and casting aside all of the man's prototypes, blueprints and inventions.
"We want our money," the second thug said pulling out a switchblade knife, "And the boss has given us license to take it however we want."
"Please," Cheng tried to plead, "All I need is a few more days. My invention will turn a profit and it will revolutionize the way we dispose of waste. We'll be able to go back to having clean and running water."
"Money Cheng," the third thug said pulling out a gun, "Nobody gives a shit about your inventions."
"Cheng's a regular DaVinci, isn't he boys?" the thug with the knife laughed.
"Please," Cheng pleaded now on his knees, "Why must you do this! Money isn't worth a life! Haven't you learned anything from the Combine invasion, from the collapse of society, from the fall of all economies and money?"
"Maybe money is worthless everywhere else Cheng but here in City 12 our economy works just fine. There's no reasoning with him boys, cut him."
Shephard burst in through the back door. The thugs turned with eyes wide with surprise trying to get up their weapons in time. The thug with the gun was first to go down as Shephard side-stepped his weapon before he could even pull the trigger and disarmed him by grabbing his wrist. Shephard laid the man out with one punch before turning to the Templar with the knife and tackling him against the wall smashing his arm against the stone walls of Cheng's house. With the knife on the floor Shephard made quick work of the remaining thug and quickly had the gun turned on them.
"Who the hell are you?" One of the thugs asked holding his bloody knuckles.
"I'm General Adrian Shephard," he said and their faces went white with fear, "And you will leave this man alone."
Julian's eyes shot open in an instant of panic as the sound of gunfire filled the air. His hands went to his Pulse Rifle but he soon lowered it when he saw just how insurmountable the odds were. There were nearly two dozen of them each holding an assault rifle or Pulse rifle. Alyx and the others quickly surrendered as well as the raid group began to search their things. These weren't Combine soldiers of any kind, Julian knew, they were dressed in plain clothes although none of their clothing bore Resistance insignia Julian had more than his fair share of suspicions that this group was Resistance.
"You four some kind of new HUD soldiers?" the leader, a woman in her early thirties with hair dyed a strange white color, asked. Julian thought for a moment that he recognized her from somewhere but he shrugged it away.
"What do you think?" Julian asked with ample attitude, he watched the woman's eyes light with anger, "Do we look like Combine to you?"
"You're driving Combine vehicles," another raider pointed out, this one was a big man some six and a half feet tall and built like a tank.
"We stole them," Alyx explained, "We're on the run."
"You're Alyx Vance aren't you?" the leader asked with a smile of recognition spreading across her beautiful, but dirt encrusted, face, "That would mean that he's here right?"
"Who?" Alyx asked honestly confused for a moment.
"Gordon fucking Freeman," Julian whispered to clue her in.
"Gordon isn't here," she replied putting her hands down to shake hands with the leader of the raiders, "But I wish he were."
"Don't we all," the leader replied, "My name is Theta, Theta Prime."