acts_of_gord | (no subject)

". . . "

Gordon didn't bother finishing the sentence. Dinah had been there a moment ago, and wasn't now. There were no zombies around and no blood on the tunnel floor; there'd been no sound of even a silenced bullet. Either the Combine had developed the sort of teleportation technology that would make Starfleet Command envious, or Dinah had done as he himself had done several times in the days before the Incident and accidentally stepped into Milliways. Regardless, there wasn't much he could do about it now. He sighed, shrugged, and went on.

The black headcrab that lurked under a box at the very mouth of the tunnel never saw the irritation coming.

One of the perks- although very few people would recognize them as such- of being promoted to the sniper corps of the Combine Overwatch forces is the relatively slow progression through the ranks. A newly chosen sniper officer need have no fear of being shot. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, his job will entail a position on the outskirts of patrolled territory and orders to fell as many necrotics and xenotherian biologics as possible with as little ammunition as possible. There's even a laser sight bolted to the rifles of newly commissioned sniper units to help them in their containment duties. It's not as if the necrotics notice.

The problem is the hundredth time. Sometimes there are anticitizens instead. They're faster. They're smarter. They notice.

Especially the ones who wear glasses.

"Pray that you never encounter one face to face," Eli had said. Now Gordon knew why. The masked bastards were fast, and- from what he could tell- smarter than the Marines. Or at least more responsive, which counted for about the same in his book. The ones back on the railroad tracks'd been distracted by headcrab zombies. These guys-

The heavy thudding sound of one of the Combine pulse rifles tore through the air overhead. Gordon flattened his back against the remains of the cargo van and readied another grenade. If he could just get a clear line of sight on the propane tank alongside the maintenance facility this'd be so much easier! With a grimace, he counted to three and pitched the grenade in what he estimated was probably the right direction. The explosion was suitably thunderous (Gordon wondered a little whether he'd have any hearing left at all by the time all this was over), but after it subsided he was still hearing gunfire. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from inside the building.

It took him another moment to realize that he was running towards the gunfire. A wry little acknowledgment of exactly how irrational and impossible that prospect would've seemed to him only a few months ago passed through his head at the idea. It vanished swiftly, of course. There were at least five Combine among the stacks of equipment on the main floor, and he had to concentrate.

When the last one fell he lowered his gun and listened for any others that might be sneaking up. All he heard were voices- human voices, not computer-modulated ones- so he started forward.

"-been hit," said one of them, an older, Asian-looking woman in the half-jumpsuit, half-scavenged-armor garb Gordon had come to associate with the Resistance across the board.

"Patch him up and get him to the back as soon as he's stable," said her companion, passing her a medkit. As he turned to reach for another, his eye fell on- "Gordon Freeman? It's incredible you made it! We've been getting communications from Alyx-"

Good. She's still alive, Gordon thought with considerable relief. He nodded.

"I'll see if I can reach her again," the man continued, and gestured to a door off to one side. "Follow me."

"I came as fast as I could-"

"The fact that you made it at all is pretty amazing, from what we heard about your course," said the man as he led Gordon down a narrow corridor and rapped at another door. "Hey! It's Leon. We're all clear." He paused fractionally before adding, "And I've got Gordon Freeman."

Before Gordon could comment on that, the door opened a hair. "Doctor Freeman?" said an incredulous voice. "You're kidding. I've been on the line with Alyx. Her father's been captured."

Gordon blanched at that. He barely heard the rest of what they had to say, even the Vortigaunt nearby; Leon had to guide him in the direction of their communications rig. "Come on, now- we've got her on the line..."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Black Mesa East is gone. Alyx knew that was inevitable from the moment the bombs started falling. When the enemy knows where you are, your job is to be somewhere else as quickly as possible. Those who survived the initial onslaught have scattered to various minor outposts in the canal zone--hopefully ones the Combine don't know about yet.

There are only four people still unaccounted for. D0G is presumably somewhere on the coast, waiting for Alyx. Dad and Judith... well, "unaccounted for" isn't the right phrase. Alyx knows exactly where they are.

The fourth person whose status is unknown at this time is the man whom Alyx desperately hopes she didn't just send to his death.

She adjusts the antenna on her cobbled-together communicator again, in hopes of getting a better signal. "Hello? Can you guys still hear me?"

Gordon pushes his way forward a little and leans in a little closer. "Alyx? We're here. We hear you."

He glances over to Leon to make sure he's looking at the right spot; he was always terrible about that with webcams.

"Gordon??" Even in the grainy black-and-white image, Alyx's expression of profound relief is clearly visible. "You made it through Ravenholm--thank God."

He almost mentions Dinah, but it'd take too long to explain. Instead, he just nods. "It got hairy a few times," he says. "And there were snipers at the other side. What happened on your end?"

"We had to abandon Black Mesa East. Everyone who survived has scattered to make us harder to track." She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Gordon, they've taken my father."

Remember the Five Seconds to Headbreaking face from Eli's briefing?

Yeah. Like that.

All Gordon actually says, though, is "Where?"

"He's been taken to Nova Prospekt--the Vortigaunts tracked the ship that made off with him and Judith Mossman. Gordon, I need your help to get him out."

"Of course," Gordon says instantly. There's no question about this one. "How do I get there, and what do I need to know?"

(He should've asked that before going to Ravenholm. Not a mistake he plans to make twice.)

"It used to be a high-security prison," says Alyx. "It's something... much worse than that now. But I think it's still easier to sneak in than to get out."

Yeah, she is dodging the question, a bit.

When Gordon was applying to East Coast colleges many years ago, one of the cities he stopped in was Washington, DC. He visited the science museums- that went without saying- but one of the places he more or less got dragged to was the Holocaust Museum. Right now, he's remembering being stuffed into the elevator without an explanation, and the footage taken by the first American forces to roll into certain captured areas... specifically, the stunned disbelief in the voices of the commanders reporting about the sheer magnitude of the 'prisons' they were seeing, and the horrified words "Things like this just don't happen."

Even if he's wrong in the details, he knows what the Combine are willing to do, and what they've done. It's enough to form an expectation with. So he just nods.

Thank heaven for small mercies. Alyx is horrified enough at the thought of her father going to Nova Prospekt without having to explain the place to someone else.

"While the trains are still running, I'm gonna hitch a ride. I need you to make your way along the coast until you get to Nova Prospekt."

"You want him to take the coast road?!" interjects Leon. "He won't last five minutes on foot--it's spawning season for the antlions!"

"That's why I called you, Leon," replies Alyx. "I was hoping you still had the scout car we left with you last summer, the one my dad rigged with the Tau cannon?"

In Gordon's experience, antlions are small crawly creatures more vicious to other insects than to anything else in their environment. He heard a guy from Arkansas call them doodlebugs once.

Somehow? He kind of doubts he's going to see any doodlebugs on this journey.

"Yeah, good idea. Hold on a sec," says Leon. He switches frequencies on the radio. "Nariko? Bring the buggy out. Put it on the dock right now. Doctor Freeman will be driving it."

"Will do!" says a cheery female voice. "I just finished mounting an ammo crate on the back."

"Good timing." Leon switches frequencies again. "Okay, Alyx, we're all set."

"Thanks, Leon," says Alyx with a sigh of relief.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Alyx," Gordon says. "Just point me at a map." And tell me there won't be any more helicopters.

"Just follow the road. Meet me in the depot where the trains unload."

Her expression softens, ever so slightly. "Gordon... I haven't driven the coast in over a year, but I have no reason to think it's gotten any safer. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Anybody who could smile at a moment like this would have to be a much, much more confident man than Gordon. Still- for what it's worth, he tries.

"I will, Alyx. I promise."

"Thank you."

It's an almost inaudible whisper.

"I'll see you at Nova Prospekt. Bye for now."

Gordon nods and watches the image wink out. Then he turns to Leon again. If the road's as dangerous as Alyx says, there's no sense in taking chances. Any chances. "I got what I could off the Combine dead out there," he says, "but you mentioned an ammo crate?"

"For the Tau cannon. It takes its own special rounds," explains Leon. "Before you head out, you might want to grab some medkits, restock on ammo, maybe check the map and see where you're headed..."

"Got it," says Gordon, and heads over to the map. He can grab the other containers on the way out the door; he'd like his route memorized this time, thanks.