Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.
Welcome to City 17
Chapter Four: Water Hazard
A blaze of sunlight made Gordon squint as the airboat launched itself from the tunnel, skipping across the water like a stone until he managed to reign in the damn thing and turn it around. Travelling along the wide, sparse water (Gordon noted with some relief that the toxic sludge he had been travelling over seemed to have dispersed) gave him a chance to practice controlling the vehicle. He liked to think that he wouldn't need the skills he was now learning to use, but somehow he doubted fate would leave him alone for too long without dropping some huge-helicopter/monster-from-hell/persistent-little-soldier-bastard on him and ruining his trip.
After repeating some complicated manoeuvres (or at least, they felt complicated when he was doing them), Gordon yanked the handlebars off to the left and continued on down the river, following it around the corner going to the right. The ground on either side of him rose and fell quickly as he sped along, and he found himself only occasionally having to tug the airboat one way or the other around the river's curves.
He eventually emerged in a wide expanse of water, the water level appearing somewhat deeper than it had before. In front of him, on the other side of the water, Gordon made out the red barn his previous contact had told him about, and he made a beeline for it. As he approached the stone shelf that acted as a port, Gordon realised that he didn't know how to stop the airboat.
As he fumbled about for the keys, Gordon's eyes drifted up to the red barn above him. And looking down from the entrance of the barn…
Him. Him again. Looking down on him with the neatly pressed suit and infuriating smile.
Gordon hadn't seen him since he had arrived. And since no-one else seemed to realise that Gordon had no clue what was going on, it looked like He was going to have the only answers. The airboat powered down with a low chug as Gordon viciously twisted the keys. It's momentum took him slowly floating towards the grey stone platform, and he impatiently stepped off before it had even made contact.
A rusted metal ladder took him up a level to some stairs. Rushing up them with crowbar in hand, Gordon found no sign of Him on the balcony. The vast open space leading into the barn on his right seemed to indicate a possible escape for his would-be employer, and Gordon rushed inside.
And instantly rushed out again after being confronted by two zombies.
The crackling radio from across the other side of the barn spoke urgently as Gordon tucked himself around the corner, out of sight from the lumbering beasts.
"Station Seven, do you read? Repeat, Station Seven, do you read?"
Well, that explained what happened to Station Seven, judging by the hole in the ceiling and the opened missile lodged in the planking Gordon had spotted in his brief foray inside. And, as he half expected, He had vanished like so much dust in the wind. Not wishing to annoy the creatures slowly approaching him any more than he needed to, Gordon rushed down the stairs and decided to forgo the ladder by leaping down to the platform.
Awkwardly rushing into the plastic seat of the airboat, Gordon wedged the crowbar beneath the chair, turned the keys, and steered the vehicle away from the barn. Although he had no idea where he was heading, Gordon decided that sticking with the most obvious routes was probably a safe bet. Well, probably not safe for his health, but it would probably take him to Black Mesa East.
Whatever that was.
The wide river took him around to an obviously man-made ramp mechanism underneath a bridge to take him up and into the white stone bordered canals beyond. It probably wouldn't have even been an issue when the river was at a normal depth, but since the Combine had done something to drain the water, it made every change in venue an incredible pain in the rear.
Luckily, the airboat was fast enough to propel him up and over the white wall and into the canals beyond. A bleak, low hum thrummed over his head, easily outdoing the fan behind him. It belonged to a huge white creature, similar to the glistening white helicopter-esque creatures he had spotted upon his first tour around the city. This one, however, seemed built for heavy lifting, as it carried a thick black container beneath it's flat belly, roughly the size of the vans he had seen CPs pouring out of back in City 17.
The creature landed, and his suspicions were confirmed as he rocketed towards it, the front of the container collapsing open and revealing five Civil Protection Officers. Gordon ducked his head as they opened fire. Their handguns were barely audible over the combined din of the airboat and the troop carrier creature, the latter of which was taking off again, disinterested in combat.
Gordon slammed the airboat through the officers with ease, their pained grunts fading into the distance as they tumbled and bounced off the metal frame of the vehicle. Swerving around a corner, Gordon saw three more CPs abseiling down the wall of the canal in front of him. With a smile far more evil than he would have thought possible two days ago, Gordon rocketed towards the wall, letting the airboat run across it and run down the officers before they had even touched the ground.
His eyes were adjusting to the whiteness of the walls as he turned the next corner, this one bringing with it further complications. In front of him, a large platform had been erected out of the building coming up on his right, at least a few stories up and looking quite hastily put together. Atop it, a single CP stood firing on him, his machine gun crackling through the air. Gordon could see the bullets splashing up against the water in front of him, making a path towards his airboat.
Using some of those manoeuvres he had been practising before, Gordon managed to stay out of the line of fire until he reached the platform, where he ungraciously ploughed through the thin wooden supports, demolishing them. The whine of the CP's radio confirmed his crash landing, and Gordon proceeded around the corner. He quickly cut the power from the airboat when he saw what was up ahead.
The gates in front of him were closed. Judging by the size of them, they were intended to stop boats far larger than the comparative scooter he was riding around in now. There was no way he was going to be jumping over that baby. He decided that there would be some kind of release switch for gates that large. Leaving the keys in the ignition in case he wanted to make a quick getaway (and, frankly, because the HEV suit still lacked pockets, thank you Dr Kleiner), Gordon stepped onto the platform beside him, yanking the crowbar out from underneath the airboat chair and heading around the corner.
A ladder took him up to a stone walkway that ran along the outside of the building and to where the serious health risk of a wooden platform had been built from. Gordon spotted the lifeless body of the CP in the water and tried to remove the image from his mind as he went through a lime green door in front of him.
The room beyond was dark, the only light provided by a large computer terminal on the wall on his right. Ahead of him, two misted windows provided a look into the garage area beyond. Empty shelves on small black wheels were spread out around him, some overturned while others held the smallest of cardboard boxes. He couldn't spot anybody in the large garage beyond, but still kept his head down as he rushed to the next door beside the large windows. Slowly wrapping his fingers around the handle, he pulled it down with the slightest of creaks and nudged the door open.
"We now have direct confirmation of a disruptor in our midst."
Gordon leapt back, whirling around with his crowbar to hit whoever the hell was behind him. Instead, his crowbar sailed through empty air, the momentum of the swing sending him toppling onto his back. The loud, echoing voice continued on regardless.
"One who has acquired an almost…" The voice paused before uttering the next word with disgust, "…messianic reputation in the minds of certain citizens."
The ever-so-slightly distorted image of Dr Breen's head stared at him from the computer terminal on the wall on the other side of the room.Gordon heaved himself to his feet as he started to listen to what his former administrator was saying.
"His figure is synonymous with some of the darkest urges of instinct, ignorance and decay. Some of the worst excesses of the Black Mesa Incident have been laid directly at his feet."
Gordon frowned. What did he do? He was under the impression that he had saved the world. The sheer magnitude of that statement made Gordon a little dizzy, so he tried not to think about it as he checked the windows for any approaching enemies.
"And yet, unsophisticated minds continue to imbue him with romantic power."
Well… romantic wasn't really the label Gordon would give himself.
"Giving him such dangerous poetic labels as 'The One Free Man' and 'The Opener of the Way'."
'One Free Man'. Clever. 'Opener of the Way' didn't make much sense, though. But he could live with it.Although having any kind of label was a bit disconcerting, poetic or otherwise.
"Let me remind all citizens of the dangers of magical thinking. We have scarcely begun to climb from the dark pit of our species' evolution."
At that point, Gordon stopped listening intently and was content to let the words float over him as he snuck into the garage beyond. At any point during the speech prior to those words, Gordon might have been worried that Breen's speech would have effect on him or other citizens. But as soon as he started talking about dark pits of evolution…
Gordon always prided himself on knowing when to shut up. Breen never did.
The garage was indeed empty. One of the armoured vans was parked in the right-hand corner. Gordon slid around to the other side of the garage, dropping to his hands and knees as he ducked beneath some more windows. Peeking over the ledge, he found another room similar the one he had just left. Except this darkened room led to another on the far side. He could see two CP officers inside through identically large windows, both staring off to the right.
"Let us not slide backward into oblivion just as we have finally begun to see the light," Breen pleaded, his voice easily echoing out into the garage.
With slow, gentle movements, Gordon slipped through into the darkened room, going into a full on belly crawl as he traversed the barely occupied room.
"If you see this so-called 'Free Man', report him."
Upon reaching the other door, Gordon got up into a squatting position. Hand wrapped around the door handle, he slowly pushed it down an urged the door open. Both CPswere watching the same Breen transmission on a monitor on the far side of the pale blue room. One was almost directly in front of Gordon, the other a few steps ahead. Beside the large monitor, some white metal stairs led to another door. Since there were no obvious gate controls in here, Gordon assumed the switch was somewhere through there.
"Civic deeds do not go unrewarded."
Gordon stood up and grabbed the CP closest to him by the shoulder, turning him around. Expecting someone else, the CP limply looked around as though annoyed. Gordon smashed the hook of the crowbar through the ghoulish white mask, sending him tumbling to the ground with a trail of blood flying behind him.
"And contrary-wise, complicity with his cause will not go unpunished."
The second CP turned around as the first hit the ground, and, without time to even reach for his baton, settled for swinging a gloved fist at Gordon's head. He ducked and swiped the crowbar through the CP's legs, knocking him on his back. With a vicious downward strike of the crowbar, Gordon knocked him unconscious as well.
"Be wise."
Gordon took a single step forward when something solid slammed into his back, sending him face first into one of the large, misted windows. Instead of shattering, however, the glass merely frayed. In the reflection of the window, Gordon saw another CP behind him. He must have been behind the door.
"Be safe."
A hand grabbed him roughly by the back of the head, bringing it back to slam into the broken glass in front of him. Gordon stabbed the pointed end of the crowbar into the CP's belly. With a loud grunt, he stumbled back. Gordon whirled around with the crowbar, the blow sending him down to the ground to join his comrades.
"Be aware."
And with those final words, Breen's transmission ended.
"Edit your speeches," Gordon muttered. Beneath the now blank screen, he found something far more interesting; a crate full of - judging by the label - grenades. Gordon hadn't seen grenades for… well, for a few hours, back in Nihilanth's chamber. He still felt suitably nostalgic, however, as he opened up the crate and looked inside. The grenades were not the round, fist sized weapons he had become accustomed to, however. These were roughly the size of a tall can of beer, with a ring on the top and a (deactivated) red light beside it.
He picked up one regardless, as well as nabbing the handgun of one of the fallen CP officers. Within a few moments he was opening the door and stepping through into the open air beyond, crowbar tucked under his arm.
And within one more moment, he was back inside, leaping to the ground as several high powered bullets ripped their way through the wooden green door. Gordon picked himself up and tucked himself around the corner from the now halfway transparent door. Outside, he had found a tall fence on his left overlooking the canal on which his airboat was now parked as well as the tall, closed gates. In front of him, a trailer (seemingly without any mode of transportation to pull it) was halfway between him and another building on the far side of the area. Just to the right of the only door into said building, a clever little CP had set up a mounted machinegun.
Gordon sighed. He preferred it when he was clever and all of his enemies were stupid. Although he'd like to see any CPs write a thesis entitled 'Observation of Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen Entanglement on Supraquantum Structures by Induction Through Nonlinear Transuranic Crystal of Extremely Long Wavelength (ELW) Pulse from Mode-Locked Source Array'.
Then Gordon would be impressed.
Gripping the grenade in one hand and his handgun in the other, Gordon ran through the pathetic remains of the door, making a mad leap for the ground behind the abandoned red trailer. It looked like something a farmer would use to transport his prized pig from one contest to another. As it was, all it held were some very boring looking wooden crates. The CP continued his endless barrage, probably figuring that Gordon would have to come out some time.
Well, he was half right.
Gordon got to his feet and started pushing the trailer forward. At first, it didn't want to budge, but eventually, as his HEV boots got some traction on the concrete, it started to move. It gained some speed as he kept on pushing, the steady thunk of the machinegun bullets getting louder as he approached the CP.
Having reached the halfway point, Gordon pulled the ring on the grenade and tossed it in the direction of the troublesome CP. He immediately dropped to the floor, handgun at the ready. A muttered curse was his only indication that the CP had spotted the grenade, and he risked a quick peek out into the open, pistol at the ready. The CP was vaulting over the metal barrier on which the machinegun rested as the grenade exploded, knocking him mid-leap and a few extra feet forward. Before he could even hobble to his knees, Gordon emptied the weapon into him, which turned out to only hold three bullets. But it was enough when all of them were aimed for his head.
Shaking his head, Gordon got to his feet, tossing the handgun to the floor and pulling out his trusty crowbar before continuing for the door at a slightly increased pace.
For what seemed the hundredth time that day, Gordon found himself going through a door, only to throw himself out of it a few moments later. Three CPs were waiting for him inside the small yet tall room. Two generators tucked into the right-hand side of the room didn't leave much room for any hidden officers, so the three that had been pointing weapons up at him had probably been all he had to contend with. The slippery metal of the stairs he had found himself on didn't lend themselves to speedy escapes, and Gordon quickly found himself stumbling back through the door.
Turning back to the other building to fetch some guns, Gordon halted in his tracks when he saw a veritable squadron of CPs pouring out of the building opposite, one of the troop transport creatures already flying off into the distance.
Gordon took a note not to concentrate on throwing grenades so much that he didn't check behind him once in a while. Ducking down behind the mounted machinegun, Gordon took aim and started mowing them down. They scattered, some taking cover behind a large metal skip on the left while others made a run for the trailer Gordon himself had hidden behind before.
The door beside him opened, and Gordon looked over at the CP pointing his sub-machinegun at him. Gordon swung up his crowbar first, hitting the officer's wrist and sending the weapon out into the air. The CP latched onto the crowbar, and Gordon took a few steps back as his enemy pushed forward against him. Gritting his teeth, Gordon swung the CP around with all his might, driving his legs into the waist high metal barrier and sending him tumbling over.
One enemy down for at least a few moments, Gordon got to firing again, taking out a few more CPs before a dark sleeved arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him up and back towards the wall. Gordon flailed uselessly as he tried to hit his unseen enemy. The CP he had tossed over the machinegun barrier was getting back up, and Gordon could see several of the CPs slowly emerging from their cover.
Gordon kicked the machinegun, sending it whirling around on it's axis and colliding with the back of the recovering officer's head. He ended up unconscious in an awkward sitting position, his head between his legs. Still using his legs, Gordon tilted the muzzle of the machinegun down, and used his other foot to slam down on the trigger mechanism in the wide handles on the back.
With a loud bark of gunfire, the machinegun sent a hail of bullets into the CP's feet behind him. Gordon was instantly released as the CP screamed in pain. The quick swing of the crowbar was as much out of mercy as it was expediency.
Something landed between Gordon's feet before he could even think about getting back behind the machinegun. Then another.
Then another.
Looking down, Gordon suddenly found himself surrounded by at least half a dozen grenades.
Without pause, Gordon whirled around and hurtled through the door behind him, coming face to face with the third and final CP from inside. Grabbing him by the arm, the CP tossed him around until he lost his footing on the stairs and tumbled down, rolling awkwardly as he fell. He finally reached the ground, and looked up to see the CP pulling out his handgun to finish the job.
The door beside him exploded inward, smashing him into the guardrail of the stairs, the door itself shattering in half as it hit.
Gordon allowed himself the faintest of smiles before he stumbled to his feet, heading for the other stairway he had just spotted on the other side of the room. As he passed the spot below the top of the stairs, he spotted the handgun the now crushed CP had been wielding. He scooped it up before pounding up the metal stairs, all too aware of how quickly Civil Protection was going to catch up with him. He slammed the door behind him as he stepped through, throwing his back against it in a vain attempt to barricade it from any new arrivals.
The switch to open the gate was broken, the panel scorched and the switch itself melted beyond repair. A scowl steadily knotted Gordon's brow as he looked around for another way out. Looking through the fencing that overlooked the river below, Gordon suddenly found it on the far right. A steel girder attached to two chains that led to another girder above it. They was a lot of slack between the two girders, but the chains were wrapped tight.
The first girder was held in place by a thick clamp attached to the fence on his right. Below the clamp, several red-orange barrels with an ominous flame symbol on the front waited patiently. Looking from the girder to the gate that was now on his left, Gordon smiled. It was an emergency system. He didn't know if it existed before the Combine, or if it was an addition made by the Resistance, but right now, Gordon didn't care.
Making his way to the fence, Gordon quickly clambered over and managed to secure himself on the ledge beneath him before making his way onto the girder itself. Glad for the thickness of the girder, Gordon made his way across to the chain on the far side - he had no desire to be near those barrels when they blew.
The door flew open, and several CP officers emerged. Gordon took aim at the barrels, and fired three shots. One barrel exploded, slightly dislodging the clamp and setting the other two barrels ablaze. Looking amazingly panicked for someone wearing an expressionless mask, the CP who seemed to be in charge signalled for everyone to get back before shooting Gordon a hateful look. How Gordon knew it was hateful, he wasn't sure, but it there was definitely no love lost between the CP and him.
He was knocked from his thoughts by the last of the barrels exploding, completely obliterating the wooden clamp and sending the now free girder hurtling down towards the gate. Gordon waited only a few moments before dropping his handgun and kicking off backwards, holding onto his glasses with his free hand as he fell.
The cold water rushed in around him just as the girder smashed through the gate, reducing it to scrap. With a few kicks of his legs, Gordon burst from the water, enjoying his handiwork for just a moment before starting a rather vigorous swim through the wreckage of the gate and to his airboat.
His would-be pursuers fired on him from their cramped position on the balcony level behind him, but by the time any of them had adjusted themselves well enough to get any kind of decent aim, Gordon was in the airboat and starting the fan. With an ever increasing roar, his vehicle came to life and thrust him out of the corridor and out into the open air again. Gordon could practically taste the flavour of freedom.
It tasted good.
Gordon ached to take a break, to rest for at least a few moments. For as relaxing as jumping from falling girders and blowing up evil police officers was, he wanted very much to lie down on something. Preferably soft.
After what he was sure was ten minutes of driving, Gordon resolved to take a break after the next corner.
As soon as he rounded said corner, he found himself looking at a large docking complex, shipping containers piled up all around in stacks of two and three. A canal directly in front of him and on the left of the complex seemed to be the way forward, but a sudden, piercing alarm put an end to that idea, the gates closing with irritating finality.
As if to put the final layer of icing on Gordon's cake of crap, a lone CP appeared from nowhere to stand on the corner of the wall beside the canal and open fire on him, the rapid fire bullets kicking up a trail of splashes that seemed to head straight for him. Looking to the right, Gordon saw a wooden platform that rested below another above it. He headed towards it, his control of the airboat improving to the point where he got it to stop by the time he reached the platform.
Gordon stepped off and onto the rickety planks that made up a floor. Feeling somewhat unsafe, Gordon stepped forward onto the concrete and through the green door in front of him. The alarm continued to chime out as he made his way through the basement area, seeming to stop just as reached a wide metal table sat midway in the room before a door. Atop the table, as though waiting for him, a somewhat grimy silver revolver looked up at him, a small yellow box sitting beside it. The words .357 Magnum were plastered over it in slanted black font, as well as a picture of bullets.
That would be a box of bullets, then.
He picked up the weapon just as the door in front of him was flung open, revealing a narrow corridor beyond with two CP officers inside. Gordon fired the gun, the force of the blast knocking his hand back past his face. He blinked in shock and decided to crouch down. This gun would need two hands to operate. Waiting a few moments, no gunfire was forthcoming, so Gordon peeked his head over the top. Both CP officers lay inert on the ground. Wary of some kind of trick, Gordon snuck over cautiously, his two handed grip on the weapon tightening as he approached them.
The deep red bullet holes in their heads seemed to indicate that they were indeed dead. Gordon looked down at the revolver. It had just ploughed through two CPs in one shot. He liked this gun.
Gordon tried to whirl it around his finger. He almost dropped it, having to hastily juggle it a few times before he finally got a firm grip. He nodded to himself.
Cowboy moves not a good idea. Noted.
After reloading the gun, Gordon continued on through the corridor. At the next corner it brought him out into the daylight, the fence in front of him looking out to the large lake of water he had just been riding across. Continuing, Gordon came to a stone stairwell leading up to the level where all of the containers were stacked. A CP with his back to Gordon barely had a chance to turn before Gordon blasted him.
As he rushed up the stairs, a low thrumming noise whipped through the air above him. Looking up, Gordon was greeted by the sudden windy entrance of one of the same black helicopters that had stalked him through the canals of City 17. It banked in the air, turned around, and seemed to focus on him.
The same familiar, growing whine filled the air, and Gordon knew what was coming. He looked for somewhere to go, and, finding only closed containers, decided that they would do. The first bullets managed to hit him in the shoulder, turning him in mid-run and sending him tumbling to the ground. However, he still managed to crawl around and put a stack of two containers between them, the metal boxes taking the lion's share of the punishment.
His HEV suit pinged helpfully, dropping the hint that he had been injured.
Having not realised what the cause of the searing pain in his back was, Gordon was grateful. Using the container as leverage, Gordon managed to shimmy his way up to a standing position. The helicopter came around so that it could see him.
After a quick glare that he hoped would make the helicopter spontaneously combust, Gordon started running, darting around the containers and keeping them between the helicopter's bullets and him. The occasional Combine officer wandered into his path, but either the crowbar or the revolver took quick care of them.
Eventually, Gordon caught a glimpse of a warehouse on his left, and manoeuvred his way around the container blocking the entrance. Four containers took up the middle of the warehouse area, lined up diagonally with each other to make a sort of twisted Tetris style shape. As the helicopter came around for another try, Gordon darted away from the large entrance of the warehouse, pressing his back to the concrete wall. He took a breath, resting his head back and looking up.
A CP looked back down at him through the metal latticework section of the walkway above him. With a yelp bordering on girly, Gordon quickly removed himself from the line of fire, getting underneath the rest of the walkway. Oddly enough, the rest of it was made of wood, and was supported with wooden struts.
Judging from the amount of footsteps and distorted radio voices from above him, the lion's share of the Combine forces were there. Looking across the warehouse, Gordon spotted another walkway that mirrored the one he now hid under. Only two CP officers were manning it, and Gordon took that as a good thing. Running to the far left of the walkway above him, Gordon gripped his two weapons tight as he hopped up and down on the ground, preparing himself.
Gordon launched into a full on sprint, heading for the stairway leading up to the opposite walkway. The gunfire that rang out didn't even compare to the amount of bullets that actually made contact. How he managed to keep on running, Gordon had no idea. He practically fell onto the stairs, and was extremely grateful for how much distance the width of the warehouse had put between him and his would-be killers.
The two CPs on the walkway ahead of him, on the other hand…
The first tried to fire his weapon, but Gordon just sidestepped before he had even brought the weapon to bear and struck him down with the crowbar. The second one grabbed onto his eponymous weapon, and Gordon fired the revolver into his belly before tossing him onto the ground below.
A knee-high wooden 'guardrail' of sorts ran along the walkway, and Gordon took that moment to graciously drop to the floor, letting his body clang ungraciously against the thin metal. Gordon waited as the morphine from the HEV suit did it's work. Although running low on power, the suit still managed to alleviate some of the pain, at least enough to allow him to think straight.
Gordon looked to the fallen CP that he hadn't let drop onto the lower level. Hooked to his belt were several grenades. Using the crowbar, Gordon tore the belt off. He pulled the ring from one of the grenades and launched himself to his feet, putting his hand up to block the bullets aiming for his head. Swinging his arm around in a circle a few times, Gordon released the belt of grenades, hoping they would land somewhere near the wooden walkway. He ducked back down, scooping up his crowbar and revolver.
When the grenades exploded, the sound of splintering wood and screaming CPs seemed to confirm that Gordon had hit the correct spot. Emerging from his hiding place, Gordon saw that the middle section of the walkway had been completely obliterated, the explosion having spread a cloud of smoke and dust into the air and over the four containers that made a makeshift bridge from one side of the warehouse to the other.
Gordon started playing stepping stones and made his way across.
Angry footsteps coming from within the smoke gave him pause, and he readied himself. Two officers emerged from the quickly dissipating mist, the first quickly disposed of by a point blank shot to the face. The second made a swing for Gordon with his baton, who parried the blow with his crowbar, rotating it away from him. With a quick jab of his leg, Gordon hit the CP right between the legs, the masked enforcer doubling over almost instantly. Only the gentlest of shoves sent the CP collapsing through a gap between the containers, wedging him in-between.
The angry thumping of the helicopter outside spurred Gordon on, and he hopped from one container to the other until he was in the corridor leading into the bowels of the warehouse. Large windows lit the bare, brown room magnificently, and made the looming shadow of the Combine helicopter all the more intimidating. Gordon increased his pace as the bullets blasted through the window, sending large shards of glass exploding out behind him as he ran.
A veritable wall of crates blocked the entrance into the next room, and Gordon unceremoniously leapt straight through them, bursting out at the top of a stairway on his right. A CP at the bottom of the stairs turned around in alarm and started un-holstering his pistol. Gordon reached behind him and tossed one of the larger - yet pleasingly lighter - crates down the stairs and at his opponent. It had the desired effect, distracting him just long enough for Gordon to take aim with the revolver. One squeeze of the trigger was all it took to send the CP tumbling back down the stairs.
Gordon quickly followed suit, the thundering noise his feet made on the metal steps miniscule compared to the helicopter outside. A Combine energy outlet was on the wall in front of him, lit by the open entrance out into the sunlight just beside it. Glancing a few times to the sky outside, Gordon made a dash for the machine, thrusting the relevant elbow into the glowing port. With a grateful electronic hum, the HEV suit did it's work.
It then promptly stopped, simply making a negative beep every time he attempted to restart the process. He looked the charger up and down. The status indicator seemed to be working. Gordon checked his elbow. A large gash from something or other had been sliced through it. From where, Gordon had no idea. But it seemed to be interfering with the recharging process.
And considering how low his power was and that there was a helicopter with a mounted minigun waiting for him outside, Gordon was obviously over the moon.
His back to the wall beside the doorway, Gordon poked his head outside. Another red container sat sternly in front of him. No sign of the helicopter above, although he could sure as hell hear it. Looking above the container, Gordon could see what looked like a control tower prodding the sky. Hopefully that meant some kind of gate release switch. He didn't feel like riding girders for every locked gate he came across.
With only the slightest of glances back up to the sky, Gordon wiped his sweat soaked brow and dashed outside, slamming far too hard into the container before shimmying along it. Gordon slipped around it and came to another container. On the right, Gordon could see the pathway that would take him to the control tower, which was closer than he had thought. A single CP stood at the bottom of the tower, guarding the ladder that led inside.
The sleek black form of the helicopter swooped into view, taking account of him for the first time since he had been inside.
Gordon let his head hang. "Oh… come on…"
With a deep breath, he brought his gaze back up to the still unaware CP. He was breathing heavier now; the HEV suit was close to dying on him. Gordon took a large breath, straightened his glasses, and charged out into the open, revolver pointed straight at the CP.
His enemy took that moment to turn around, levelling his submachine gun as he panicked at Gordon's charge. The first barrage of bullets hit his legs, and Gordon stumbled forward as he fired off a single shot from the revolver, hitting the CP in the shoulder. The force of the impact sent the man reeling backwards, almost turning him around. Gordon tried to fire again, and found the chamber empty. Gritting his teeth, he turned the weapon around so the not insubstantial butt of the gun was acting as a second melee weapon. The CP turned around and got it right between the eyes, falling onto his back.
The helicopter's gun whined as it prepared to fire. Gordon smiled as he reached the ladder, finding it enclosed in a sort of enclave that took him up to the control room. He tossed the useless revolver down to the ground. The rapid fire bullets from the helicopter impacted uselessly against the concrete as he made his way up.
As Gordon reached the final rung and prepared to vault up and surprise his enemy, he heard a familiar tinkling as something hit the floor. Looking up, Gordon could only watch as a grenade rolled over the edge and down towards him. Reaching out with his crowbar, Gordon managed to catch the explosive cylinder in the hook of the tool. With a smile bordering on insanity at how lucky he was, Gordon swung it back into the control room and let go of the ladder.
There was a silence for a few moments, before a muttered 'shit' was quickly drowned out by the resounding bang of the grenade. Gordon clambered back up, his face wrinkling in disgust as the burning flesh hit his nostrils. He stepped gingerly around the bodies as he went to the control panel on the other side of the incredibly small room. Two buttons were staring him in the face on the wall, one pressed, the other not. A red light shone defiantly between them. Gordon slammed his palm down on the depressed button, and watched with smug satisfaction as the light turned green, and the gates opened with an echoing groan.
Gordon darted to the ladder and slid down. Looking to his left, he saw the same platform the irritating CP had been firing from earlier. It was probably the same guy whose face he had just smashed in.
Obviously, the gate's grand opening had not gone unnoticed by the helicopter, which was banking around for another shot at 'The Opener of the Way'.
He glanced at the opening gates. Huh. That was actually starting to make sense now.
Gordon made long, splashy strides towards his airboat as the helicopter came around, lowering itself almost into the water as it took aim. He was roaring away in the airboat as the helicopter's gun whined into being, unleashing a shower of metal hell upon him as he twisted and turned through the gates and back out into the open river beyond.
He took the first left, since that was the only method open to him. Above his head, the helicopter swooped down again, this time settling for a position just ahead of Gordon, at the next turning. It kicked up a haze of water as it floated there, engraving a circle into the water by it's very presence.
The bottom of the black behemoth opened up, and some… thing dropped out. It seemed to sink for a moment before bobbing back up, a singular red light blinking. As he approached it at hazardous speeds, he saw that it looked like a metal sphere, just a little bit smaller than an exercise ball.
And then it exploded with a resounding bang, the resulting shockwave sending the front of the airboat up into the air until Gordon managed to gain some control and turn the thing into calmer waters. Gordon shook his head and straightened his glasses.
So. Depth charges. Except they floated. So… floating depth charges.
That contradiction of terms made his head hurt almost as much as the ringing in his ears. Another mine dropped down in front of him, and Gordon swerved to avoid it. The helicopter seemed to be content to stick with this form of attack, and soon Gordon found himself swerving through a minefield of ticking bombs, each ready to explode and send him flying away in some awkward and potentially fatal manner.
Gordon shot towards the wreckage of a half buried tunnel, taking refuge underneath as the barest slivers of sunlight bore down through the cracks. Coming out the other side, Gordon made a sharp left, blasting forwards to go underneath two sets of bridges, one after the other.
He was completely underneath the first by the time he noticed the CPs hurtling down on ropes, timing their falls perfectly so as to land on the airboat rather than get run over by it. One seemed to be holding on to the fan casing, while the other was gripping the rusted yet sturdy metal poles that made up the structure of the airboat. He pulled out his handgun and pointed it towards Gordon as they passed underneath the next bridge, two more CPs dropping down to join the fun.
With as sudden a jerk as he could manage, Gordon sent the airboat into an on-the-spot spiral, knocking the two extra CPs aside with the fan casing while also losing the lone CP that had been clinging there. The impact also managed to knock the gun from the hand of the CP beside him, who instead took to wrapping his arm around Gordon's neck while using the other to try and take control of the airboat.
Still having most of the control, Gordon managed to turn left again as they sprang out onto the river beyond, the helicopter above circling like an enormous eagle above them.
As they shot down the wide river, Gordon noticed one of the troop transport vans in the far distance, having parked itself on a ridge quite a few feet above water level. Both Gordon and his erstwhile enemy watched as, with an echoing, whooshing bang, the van fired two missiles, both heading straight for some towering smokestacks beside the river. They both released a sigh of relief as one of the missiles completely missed the target.
Both of them tensed as the second hit dead on, hitting the second smokestack right at it's base. With an incredible speed for something so big, it began to tumble, looming down on them as they sped towards the spot it was inevitably going to crash into. Gordon tugged at the handlebars with his spare hand, the other clutching the arm that was wrapped around his neck. It wouldn't budge to the left. Looking over, he saw that the CP was trying to redirect the airboat in the opposite direction.
They both seemed to realise their predicament in the same instant, and looked to each other. Gordon thrust his head to the left, and the CP nodded. The airboat turned, the collapsing smokestack crashing down just a few inches to their side, sending up a huge wave of water that helped to further push the airboat away. Since the river wasn't wide enough to accommodate the smokestack, it seemed to shatter as it collided with the unforgiving rock on the other side.
Both Gordon and the CP looked to each other in relief. Gordon slipped the crowbar out from under his chair and gave the CP a resounding conk on the forehead, knocking him off the airboat and into the water below. Speeding away from the broken smokestack, Gordon found only drain pipes, thick metal bars stopping any exit that way. A singular mine plopped into the water in front of him, and Gordon made a large U-turn.
He headed straight for the broken remains of the smokestacks, specifically a shard that had formed a ramp of sorts that would take him flying over the obstacle. A few more mines dropped down in front of him, but Gordon easily swerved around them, eventually flying up at an angle into the air before crashing down in the water on the other side. The airboat bounced as it acclimated to the sudden impact, and Gordon followed the river around to the right.
In the distance, Gordon saw two large pipes that would (he hoped) take him to some semblance of safety. Atop the wall these two pipes lay in, however, was another of the armed vans, ready to make war. With the same noises as it's earlier brother, it launched several missiles into the air, which gradually banked and made their way directly towards him.
Another mine dropped down in front of him, and Gordon swerved to the side of the high-walled canal he now found himself in. One of the missiles exploded against the wall as he reached it, and Gordon had to swing the bottom of the airboat up to take the majority of the punishment while still keeping a steady hand on his glasses.
Still didn't stop the ringing in his ears though. He could feel the wind from the helicopter's blades as it swooped down low to him, having become clued in to his game plan. Unfortunately for the Combine, it was too little too late, and Gordon was speeding down the left-hand tunnel. The familiar whine of the helicopter's gun started up, but he was around the bend before anything could hit him.
The tunnel took him through several twists and turns before bringing him out in the open again, this time at another ramp mechanism. It didn't take Gordon long to figure out how it worked (heavy thing pulls one end of pulley system down, ramp comes up) and Gordon was once again hurtling through the air before crashing down on the shallow river on the other side.
Only a large tunnel on his left was open for business, so Gordon went that way. A few twists and turns later, Gordon was stopped in his tracks by a shambles of a gate blocking his path. He powered down the airboat as he made his approach, the vehicle eventually bumping into the gate with a quiet thud. It was made of up of metals from dozens of different sources, colours and sizes. On his left, behind a fenced off area of the walkways on either side of the tunnel, a woman in a mish-mash of navy and khaki coloured clothes stared at him.
"Hey! You're Freeman, aren't you?"
Footsteps drew Gordon's attention upwards before he could reply. Standing on a walkway just behind the gate, an black man stood in clothing very similar to the one the woman was wearing. It was then that Gordon realised that it was some kind of uniform.
He waved meekly. "Hello."
"Well, I wouldn't believe it if I couldn't see it with my own eyes! Dr Gordon Freeman himself!"
The man seemed both impressed and pleased at the same time. With a nod to his female comrade, he walked back to the right, disappearing out of view. The gate flew up with a rather creaky mechanical groan, and Gordon was somewhat reluctant to go underneath. He switched on the airboat for a brief moment to get it inside the area. It was more like an airlock than any kind of base. Another pathetic looking gate sat in front of him, blocking the rest of the tunnel from his sight.
A deck sat just beside Gordon as he pulled up, a Vortigaunt waiting for him at the corner. It held onto the airboat while Gordon hefted himself out. He looked to the red eyed alien, half curious, half afraid.
"Thank you."
It nodded graciously, eyes closed. "Your gratitude is appreciated, but not required. Time spent in service of the Freeman is no service at all."
Gordon cocked an eyebrow as the man from before approached him, standing beside him and hooking his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. It made him look like an eager farmer.
"You're just in time, doc. We've gotta move out before the Combine picks us up. We're just getting ready to pull out."
He thrust a thumb up behind him, and Gordon noticed for the first time a short flight of stairs leading up to another level at about head height. What looked like an office was comfortably nestled in the corner, the yellow light from inside looking warm and comforting.
"Come on in. I'll show you what you're up against."
With one last lingering glance at the Vortigaunt - which now held a device that resembled a gun by the barrel, it's concentration on the airboat - Gordon nodded and followed. The female rebel from before was stood beside the entrance to the office and smiled shyly as he entered, trying not to look at him too obviously.
His eager friend had started without him, pointing to one of many large maps that had been pasted to the wall. A large magnifying glass extended out of the wall beside it, but Gordon didn't see any point in using it at this juncture. Two tables on his right beneath the windows had their fair share of books spread about haphazardly, as well as some large rolled up papers that Gordon assumed were more maps. A radio crackled quietly in the corner of the desk.
"Here, take a look at this. This here's the dam, it's just up ahead." Gordon followed his finger to a small black line conjoining two masses of land.
His tour guide checked over to him to see if he was following. Gordon nodded.
Satisfied, he continued, pointing to a hastily scribbled Lambda symbol behind the dam. "Eli's hideout is here, a stone's throw from the apron and nestled in the old hydro plant. But getting there with that Hunter chopper on your ass? Next to impossible."
Hunter Chopper. So that was what they were called. Made sense.
Looking incredibly smug, the man hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack once again, rocking up down on his toes to make him look even more like an eager farmer. "Good news is, the Vortigaunt's working his magic on your airboat, so you'll have a little more firepower going forward."
He turned, checking out the window and into the river beyond. "I think he's just finishing up now."
With that, he walked out of the office, leaving Gordon to mentally check if he could remember the route the map was showing. Considering it was only a few centimetres away on the map, it shouldn't be too difficult. Gordon followed the man outside, where he was waiting for Gordon by the top of the steps.
The Vortigaunt had attached the black gun like instrument to the side of the airboat, green electricity glowing between it's outstretched hand and the base of the device. It stopped as the man spoke.
"There were are! That gun came from one of the same Hunter choppers that you're up against."
Eyebrow cocked, Gordon looked over to the Farmer.
He shrugged, smiling. "I always like to bring a little irony to a fire fight."
Gordon wasn't really sure how to take that, so he just smiled and nodded before heading down to the airboat. He repeated the gesture by way of thanks to the Vortigaunt, who stepped back as though he were a servant making room for his King. Gordon slipped inside the airboat.
"Now, it's been given some modifications, so it'll aim and fire at anything using Combine tech. Leaves you free to concentrate on the steering. Take that chopper down, and you should be able to tear on through to Eli's place."
Gordon nodded to farmer, keeping his gaze ahead. The gun was just beside the handlebars, but also above them enough so as not to interfere with the steering.
"For freedom!"
The sudden outburst from the Vortigaunt made Gordon duck his head a little, and he looked to the alien irritably. It didn't seem to notice.
In front of him, the gate creaked open, rising up in front of him to reveal the sunlit tunnel beyond. The light was becoming slightly orange as it shone into the tunnel from around the left corner. Had he really been on the run that long?
"Give 'em hell, doc," the woman said, eager hand on the lever controlling the gate.
He smiled again and nodded to her operating the controls. "I'll try my best."
Gordon gave the keys a good twist and started the airboat on it's way. Their adoring looks were beginning to disconcert him, so Gordon tried to concentrate on going straight forward.
Hero worship was something he had never had to deal with in his life. Ever. Now, according to Dr Breen, he had a messianic reputation? What the hell for? Falling over himself and accidentally killing things in the process?
Gordon's attention was suddenly brought to what lay ahead as he turned the corner and was confronted by the same helicopter again, waiting at the mouth of the tunnel. The whine of the gun coming to life made him wince as he realised he had nowhere to go. Then he realised it was coming from the airboat. He could only watch in delight as the gun unleashed glowing blue metal hell on the helicopter, instantly taking out the mounted gun that hung from the front of the beast.
Alarms sounded from inside the flying terror, and it quickly turned and blasted away into the now pink, dusky sky. The mounted weapon on his airboat refused to let up for at least another few seconds before seemingly running out of bullets. A humming noise that steadily increased in pitch dissuaded Gordon of any panicked feelings, however, assuring him it was just taking a break.
Riding the murky water for a few minutes more, Gordon eventually found himself in another narrow yet high canal, and he half expected to become trapped by another incredibly tall metal gate. All he came across, however, were more twists and turns, his view incredibly obscured by the stacks of containers towering up into the sky on either side of him.
The helicopter quickly returned, this time attempting to resort to mines. He turned another corner, a bridge going from one side of the canal to the other grabbing his attention when he saw a solitary figure watching him from the left hand-side.
That bastard again, no different than He had been before.
A mine dropped in front of Gordon and exploded unusually fast, making him close his eyes and swerve manically to compensate for the sudden wave of water that gushed over him. Circling around, he attempted to catch another glimpse of Him.
Obviously, He was gone.
The helicopter droned on above him, the noise only just now starting to annoy Gordon.
Now he was pissed off.
It didn't take Gordon long before he was roaring through a tunnel that took him out to a huge reservoir, albeit one that had been significantly dried up since it's glory days. Tug boats and cargo ships rest on sandy beaches around him, long since nestled into the dirt and sand. Towers of rock tore out of the ground and into the sky around him, and Gordon couldn't help but think that they must have been bitches to navigate around when the water level was normal.
As he emerged out of the maze of rocks and derelict ships, Gordon saw the dam on his right. Only one of the three water vents was open at the top. Directly in front of it, some rather large - if twisted - logs had been propped up on rocks to point directly to the open gate. Not needing another sign as to where to go, Gordon set a course and sped towards it.
A mine dropped down directly in his path quickly corrected that idea, and he whirled around, the explosion giving him only the slightest of bounces as he flew away.
His mounted gun had already taken aim at the marauding Hunter chopper. With a satisfying bang, it seemed to take out something to do with the blades, as there was a rather dire whining noise that sounded nothing like the mounted weapon. The chopper plummeted, and, satisfied, Gordon turned and started heading towards his makeshift 'ramp' again. However, as he tore a path through the floating debris of wood and broken crates towards the ramp, the helicopter droned overhead, albeit at a much lower altitude than before. It seemed to have lost all of it's offensive capabilities, however, since it didn't fire on him or drop anything in his path. Instead, it settled for heading for the same vent Gordon was racing towards.
But instead of a kamikaze manoeuvre, it went above the dam, positioning itself on the other side of the vent Gordon was now going to go hurtling through.
He had to admit, that was quite clever.
His automatic weapon didn't seem to think so, and started to disagree very vocally as it unleashed hell on the defenceless chopper. As he reached the ramp, Gordon reached beneath his chair and retrieved his crowbar.
The airboat left the log and flew through the vent as Gordon clambered to the side. Holding onto his glasses, Gordon leapt from the airboat as it collided head on with the chopper, firing relentlessly as it went.
He wasn't entirely sure what happened between the two vehicles. The sound of something being sliced apart assaulted his ears, but was quickly followed by some loud crashing and a resounding, ear-splitting bang. At that point, Gordon stopped paying attention to the sounds of the duelling boat and helicopter, and focused on the fact that he was falling countless feet to, most likely, his death. He skidded against the gradually sloping surface of the dam, eventually sliding all the way down into the incredibly cold water below.
His grip on his glasses held steadfast as he was dunked unceremoniously into the ice cold drink, and it took him less than a second to emerge.
The occasional grunt punctuating his heavy breathing, Gordon whipped his head around as he tried to ascertain what happened. Looking to his right, he watched as the last remains of the Combine chopper sank beneath the deep blue surface, the remains of the airboat tangled in with the blades. He felt a small twinge of sadness watching the boat disappear forever. As much as the experience had terrified him, he would still miss the feel of the wind rushing past his face.
True, there were people shooting at him and clouds of toxic waste and missiles and collapsing smoke stacks and helicopters dropping explosives, but…
Gordon forgot what point he had been trying to make.
Shaking his head, Gordon started swimming. It took him a few minutes to swim around a corner that the airboat would have circumvented in a second. That was why he missed it. But, on the shore on his left, the derelict remains of what looked like a hydro plant waited for him. A ladder led up to a deck that, in turn, would take him onto glorious dry land.
He started swimming towards Black Mesa East. Although only God knew what he would find there.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(A/N: Here we are folks! Sorry this took so long; between 'Sidelines' and Christmas stuff I've been pretty busy. But here it is (finally). Some sections have been either truncated or cut entirely, but that's just to keep the story moving. I still think there's perhaps a bit too much mindless head-bashing going on, but equally, there's something lost from Gordon's journey if he doesn't have insurmountable odds to get through and fight against.
I think I may have been channelling Die Hard 4.0/Live Free or Die Hard with the airboat/helicopter crash. I was definitely using Indiana Jones with the bit on the airboat and the CPs climbing all over it.
Action movies are fun (especially when I can justify them as research).
Anyway, review!)
