Shift Change

“Sir.” The captain turned around and shouted:
“What? Have you found Halson yet?”
“No sir.”
“Then what the **** are you doing here?”
“Sir, the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit is moving in. Flight groups Duck, Goose and Swan are coming in. They are calling on the radio.”
“Oh, alright, did you get the map over the LZs yet?” The captain started walking to the radioman across the gate area.
“Yes sir, LZs are labelled 110 through 120, 110LZ is right here. Duck 1 and 2 will arrive any moment and rendezvous with our Alpha Bravo Tango.”
“Okay, can you get me that map please?”
“Yes sir.” The private ran off and Cleer crouched down next to the radioman.
“Still nothing sir, they should be here by now.” The radio crackled to life as if instructed.

“Attention Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot dash Delta, this is Duck One, do you read me over?”
“This is Bravo Mike Romeo Foxtrot dash Delta to Duck One, we read you. Flight group switch to 295 and standby. We will instruct you under codename HQ. Out.” There was a moment of silence and the voice returned.
“Duck One to HQ, do you read me over.”
“We read you Duck One, proceed to 110LZ and rendezvous with Alpha Bravo Tango. Over.”
“Roger that HQ. We are moving, we got Goose Three and Eight and Swan Two and Five coming in after us.”
“Roger Duck One, why the uneven numbers?”
“Take off when ready HQ. They told us you needed help ASAP.”
“That’s a ****ing affirmative Duck One, situation is way beyond FUBAR at this point.”

“Can’t wait to get down there HQ.”
“Roger that Duck One. Over” The private returned with a map of the checkpoints and where their respective LZs were. Cleer studied it carefully. The voice returned when the Ospreys became visible near the horizon.
“HQ this is Duck One, we got Bravo Mike Facility in visual now, can you confirm 110LZ, over?”
“Affirmative Duck One, stand by for confirmation.”
The captain sent the private off and a few minutes later a red signal rocket flew into the air leaving a red trail of smoke after it.
“Do you read Duck One?”
“We read you HQ, visual confirmation confirmed. Is the LZ secure?”
“Not entirely, get down, get up. Possible risk to incoming aircraft. Sporadic gunfire on Alpha Bravo Tango Slash Sierra”

“Roger that HQ.” The radio went quiet for a while again, when the voice returned the sound of the choppers were growing.
“HQ this is Duck One, we’re getting a few messages through here, can you see Duck Five?”
“Negative Duck One, all we see is you. And you’re a sight for soar eyes.”
“Hehe, roger that HQ. Duck Five should be crossing over 111LZ soon with he convoy.”
“We’ll keep a lookout, what’s your ETA Duck One?”
“ETA is 110LZ minus two minutes. Goose minus nine, Swan minus eighteen.”
“Roger Duck One, we have a convoy coming in from the east now, probably Duck Five.”

“We can confirm that. HQ, do you have contact with W6?” The radio noise was drowned out to Captain Cleer by the sound of Duck One coming in, it swept over the fence and circled the area slowly before it started its descent. Soldiers streamed out of it. Cleer jogged over to the LZ and watched as a group of ten or so soldiers got out. The Osprey took off and the second one went down. In the distant two more Opsreys approached. Cleer snapped a salute back to a Sergeant and started briefing him of sorts.
“Sir, Sergeant Dussalt, 3rd battalion Beta company. My men are eager to get started.”

“Good, tell all your men to get into the facility, search for a security guard name John Halson and a scientist, Dr Birdwell, they’ve killed four men between them and they must be captured.”
“Alive sir?” Cleer stared directly at the man.
“If possible.” Their discussion was cut short by the private returning.
“Sir, W2 reports hostiles coming in.”
“Hostiles? From where?” At a moments notice two very large dragon like creatures, the size of the Ospreys themselves swept past above them. They headed straight for the three helicopters in the distance. Cleer was already at the radioman.

“What’s the third Osprey doing there?”
“That’s Goose Seven, they got separated from their own group.” The radio voice returned;
“Anyone out there got a good view at LZ?”
“Negative Goose 7. I can too see an activity up there, but I can’t tell what it is.” Cleer almost shouted at the corporal with the radio
“Call them; tell them to get out of there.”
“I can’t, those… things are disrupting the radio.”
“We have to warn them! They’re heading straight for them!” The radio came back on with the radar station W6 calling in their place.
“This is Goose Seven, breaking off to 112…” Their call was interrupted by W6.
“Goose Eight there’s a signal closing in on you, can you verify? Over?”
“Affirmative, it’s going past us now and-AHHH! Shit! Shi…” Goose Seven came back on.
“Holy shit! Goose Three down! Goose Three down!”
“Watch it Goose Seven, you’ve got something coming up on you!”
“Goose Seven goi…!” Then static.
 
Can I just say: "OMG WAH WAH MORE"

Seriously, keep it up. Weaving further Half-Life references into the fabric of the tale? Class, man.
 
“Goose 3 to HQ, Goose Three to HQ, do yozxzxrxcrxgzrc- over.”
“We read you, what’s your status.”
“****ed up sir.”
“What’s your name soldier.”
“Private Greg Cooper sir. I’m a medic.”
“Private, report your status.”
“Goose Seven, Goose Three and Goose Eight down. I was on Goose Three, no survivors but me. I’ve located Goose Seven’s crash site, I got two survivors, a Private Jungels and a Corporal She-zxsgcrvcxxxzzgrcvx Oh ****! Shit shit shi-zzxcxcrgx-ackup, need backup!”
That was all John could hear, then HQ came back on.
“Did you read that Team Bravo?” The stolen radio asked him accusingly.
“Uhh yes sir. That’s affirmative.”
“Who is this? Where’s Private Lidlaw?”
“He’s been wounded.” The habit of speaking in military terms had caught him a bit off guard the first time but he was quickly re-gaining control. “He got hit by one of those goddamn crab things, he’s bleeding all over his face. Situation’s looking pretty grim. Have the main force arrived yet?”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you listen just now? Yes they have?”
“Oh right, sorry sir I…”
“Who is this? You’re not one of my men! Identify yourself!” John threw away the radio and kept on running.
He was following the way he assumed the soldiers had taken. In all the confusion that must be on the surface, maybe he could sneak past the soldiers… maybe.
 
Pete’s head was clearer than before, he didn’t even have a headache anymore. They had dragged in a sofa from the lobby outside for him to stay on. He was watching the situation from his own perspective.
The good Dr Ellis had disappeared with Hitchford to the coolant levels, Dr Birdwell was checking readings with Jonathan at the consoles, Pete was starting to feel a bit useless.
“Ellis, what’s the status on coolant basin number three?”
“Checking… sixteen feet and rising.” There were gunshots in the background.
“Ellis, what’s going on?”
“We’re having some problems with xenobiological forms, I think they are attracted to the radiation in the coolant water.”
“You need help?” Jonathan had taken over the com system.
“No I don’t think so, but we’d better hurry. Get the reactor online as quickly as you can Dr Birdwell.”

Birdwell got to work with the consoles. Pete grabbed his shotgun from the floor and checked it.
He heard Birdwell give Jonathan orders and the after about half an hour, the low key buzzing of hydraulic pumps came on.
“Reactor levels… nominal… coolant levels… sufficient… power lines… going on-line!” The PA system kicked into life for the first time in quiet a while.
“Attention, Nuclear Reactor, 17-B… on-line… power generators going on-line… shutdown mode ended in Area 11, 10, 9, 8, 7 and Sector Lambda.”
Pete turned around and looked at the doctor who was still checking the monitors.
“Hey doc. What if this reactor is shutdown again?” Birdwell turned around and smiled.

“What do you mean if it was shut down again?”
“Well, if it was shutdown, wouldn’t the doors lock again?”
“No, in order to re-activate shut down mode, the military has to get in to the silo control room and run the sequence again. And the crew in Lambda and the rest of the facility are gonna override the command the first thing they do now.” The doctor returned to the consoles.
“But won’t the military try and shut it down?”
“I highly doubt that they got close enough watch on this place to see…”
“Your attention please. Nuclear reactor 17-B will be stormed by group alpha in ten minutes. All resisters will be killed on sight. You have nowhere to run. Message ends.”

“You were saying?” Doctor Birdwell’s jaw dropped and he got on the intercom.
“Ellis, Ellis, get out of there, get out of there now! The military is coming in!” There was a brief pause and a sharp voice returned.
“Dr Birdwell I presume? This is corporal Ballinger. Your friend took a tumble. He fell into the coolant water. He sure looks sick by now. The rent-a-cop is dead also. And you’re next.”
Birdwell ran up to the huge steel doors and hit the open button. The doors slowly slid open when the voices of marines echoed through the dark corridor. Thankfully Jonathan had run after him and hit the button again, the doors stopped and shut close again. The control room was completely sealed again.
“Attention you inside, we’re cutting through. We’ll be inside in a few minutes! Give yourselves up and you won’t be harmed!”
Jonathan grabbed his shotgun and ran up to in front of the door, Birdwell stumbled up from the floor and crouched down next to Pete.

“Doc, you have a gun?” Birdwell turned to him and answered with a quivering voice.
“N-no, I lost it…”
“Take mine.” Pete drew his 9mm and handed it to Birdwell. He grabbed it and looked down at his shaking hands.
“Doctor, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“How long do those painkiller you gave me work?”
“About an hour, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to give you another dose. Does it hurt again?” There was a loud noise and a blow torch flame appeared from the other side of the large doors, it very slowly made its way down.
“That’s not the problem doc. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t? Good, maybe it’ll last a few more minutes.”
“I don’t think that’s it doc. I can’t feel my legs at all.”
“Well I’m sure you’ll get sense in you legs back soon. Just try and move them around a bit.” He flinched and yelled out, Pete raised his shotgun as a chunk of the first set of doors was cut in half, making it clash down on the lower set of doors. The torch kept going, Jonathan move back a bit. Pete waited before he slowly said:
“I can’t’.”
The doctor was thinking of something else than the conversation they had just had and looked at him without understanding.
“I’m sorry?” He noticed a tear slowly making its way down Pete’s cheek as he very quietly answered:
“Doc… I can’t move my legs anymore…” Birdwell just looked at him, his eyes looking in the far to young guard’s eyes. He felt guilty. Complete overcoming irrational guilt was hitting him worse than those marines ever could.

His eyes then fell on the horribly discoloured leg under the torn up trousers, the infection had spread to the other leg long ago, the mans uniform was torn up as well and he could see early signs of the infection already had reached his stomach. There was another loud bang and their focus returned to the door. There was raised voices on the other side and a battering ram came through the door and brought the large pieces of steel down on the cement floor. Jonathan crouched down with his gun ready when something came flying at him, it hit his forehead and knocked him to the ground. He quickly got up halfway and froze as he noticed the explosive pack with attached detonation wire laying before him. He looked up at Pete and shouted something but it was drowned by the explosion.

The body of Security guard Jonathan Barber was thrown at least a good five feet into the air, the shockwave lifted the couch up in the air and Pete did a volt before he landed on the floor again, right before the couch landed a foot behind him in a loud crash. He saw pieces of Jonathan around the room, Dr Birdwell was lying on the floor a feet yards away, grasping his arm which was bleeding richly.
He was lying on his back still facing the door, he looked at the floor around him and something caught his attention. He grabbed the 9mm lying not far from him and started crawling against the wall where the couch had been.

The sergeant peaked through the hole in the security doors and ordered two of his men in. They quickly entered the room and the rest of the eight-man team followed.
“Be careful, check your zones! Give me a body count!”
“Got one here, a body guard.
“KIA?”
“Very much so.”
“Sir, got a live one over here!” The corporal pulled the man up by the air and he screamed loudly from the pain.
“**** me, sir! I got one of the targets here!” The sergeant ran up to him and took a look at the man.
“Dr Birdwell… nice to meet you.” He looked up at the soldier who nodded.
“You know the orders.”
“Yes sir.” Sergeant Lynch turned around and flinched slightly when the gunshot blasted. The sound of a lifeless body falling to the ground is a hard one to come to terms with.
“Two bodies. That’s a good honest day’s work. Seal off this area once you’ve shut down the reactor boys. Bag the bodies, get them topside for processing. I want it done in thirty.” There was a lot of yes sir being shouted in response and then the sergeant left.

Pete was very slowly and very quietly crawling through the tight air duct with a 9mm in his hand. It was dark but he dared not turn on his flash light yet, they may see the light from inside the room…
 
Cleer was running for his life. A hundred or so soldiers were around him, there were screams and gunshots behind him and suddenly the first of the two creatures passed around the corner. It stood at least four stories high and had the armour of a light tank. Cleer ran as fast as he could and dived down behind a few crates stacked into a cover. There was a man shouting into a radio already there, he turned away from the radio and shouted over the battle call;
“Sir! Baby Chick is on their way! ETA; Two minutes!”
“Tell them we got double targets, we need time to clear the area!”
“Yes sir! Mother Hen to Baby Chick! Mother Hen to Baby Chick! We have…”
Cleer was already back on the filed, aiming at the creature’s mouth with his MP5. He made his way to a beefy sergeant.
“Sergeant Thornton! Get you men out of there, Baby Chick is coming in and clearing up! Fall back!”

The sergeant started shouting orders, Cleer ran up to a RPG team and warned them to get back to the back lines.
“We are pulling back, commencing air strike any minute! Forget the big blues, get your asses out of here! Now!”
“Sir yes sir! The situation is ****ed up sir!”
“Situation is ****ing FUBAR corporal, get out of here!” The RPG team packed up and ran towards the buildings in the background along with hundreds of soldiers. Cleer followed them and turned around half-way, he saw the two aliens looking at each other, they didn’t seem to understand what was going on, they didn’t even follow them. After just ten seconds the sound of an incoming jet plane going in low appeared, it took just a few moment before the two F-22s came soaring from behind the cliffs.

The missiles were launched and the captain hit the ground as the shockwave blasted through the air. The ground shook and all went silent for a brief moment. But one second later, a terrible scream cut the air. The loud scream of the one alien that was still alive. Of the first remained just a big pile of flesh, the other one had had its arm blown off and it was on fire, rampaging back into the tunnel from where it had come.

The sergeant called back his troops and they chased after the creature. Cleer walked with his MP5 close to his body back to the gatehouse. He passed medics going to help the wounded back in the tunnel. He walked with heavy steps, slowly inspecting the surroundings. Huge holes had been blown open in the building, the slightly infested area had become a full-scale battle field in a matter of hours. He had been here for almost 22 hours soon and there were starting to appear bigger animals now. A few hours ago he had seen an incoming Osprey being picked down in mid-air by a huge moving tentacle that had sprouted up from the sand without warning.
He was getting worried because of two things:

A) From the looks of it, they wouldn’t be able to repel this invasion.
B) So far, nobody had brought up the word retreat.
This could mean two things: Either they were gonna get reinforced soon, and as every soldier knows, this never happens, or; It could mean that the reason that no-one had ordered to retreat, was because no-one was supposed to leave.
He was in the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit, he had heard all the rumours about cover-ups and black ops, but he was refusing to believe that would actually happen. In fact, to be honest to himself, it was just a paranoid conspiracy theory. Every soldier in the HECU had them. He never ‘really’ paid them any attention.

But still… They had suffered almost 20% losses, they had failed to inflict any significant blows to the enemy, they hadn’t contained the invasion, they had only located 7 out of 45 separate targets and they were fighting a force with a ratio of 6 enemies to every soldier.
And yet the only orders he could get out of HQ was that they were deliberating their next move.
He had reached the gatehouse when he turned his head.
Along a wall outside a barrack was a line of eight scientists standing with their head towards the building, hands behind their heads. A pretty short private was interrogating one of them, he was lying on the ground, his face all beaten, bruised and bleeding.

“Where is he!?”
“I don’t know!”
“Bullshit!” He swung his shotgun butt at him and hit his stomach, the man screamed in pain and rolled over, but the soldier didn’t let him catch his breath. He rolled him back to his back and shouted again;
“Where is he!?” And gave him a good kick in the stomach as he rolled to his side.
“Where is he!? Tell me now!” The scientist pleaded with him.
“Please stop, I don’t know where Freeman is, you’ve got to believe me!”
“Bullshit! Where is he!?” He pathetically hulked;
“I don’t know…”

“**** you!” The soldier brought down the butt of his gun hard upon his head several times. One of the scientists turned his head slightly and the soldier grabbed his hair and pulled him away from the other and pushed him up against the wall with his shotgun close to his head.
“I told you ****s to stay still didn’t I!? You do what I say okay you dumb ****?”
“Y-yes sir, I’m sorry, p-p-please don’t hurt me I have a family!”
“Oh you have a family? Great, you have a wife huh?” The scientist nodded nervously.
“Great, a baby?” The man sounded softer in his voice.
“Y-yes… a daughter…”
“Aww, I bet she’s the cutest thing ever right?” The soldier smiled. He kept smiling as he pulled the trigger and spray-painted the wall with the poor man’s brains.

Cleer just stared as he beat one of the other scientists that had yelled out and turned when the splatter hit him. He heard the private shout the same questions over and over and the frightened man answer the same as the other one had. While the first man’s cracked open skull was laying in the hot sun, something clicked in the mind of Captain Butch Cleer. He reached an insight. In the face of the scientist barely alive in the New Mexico sun he saw his future. He realized that soon, one way or the other he was going to be dead. He didn’t care if he was just being paranoid or not. He went into the gatehouse to call Sgt Talbert and have him assemble the men.
 
Isn't Greg Cooper from VALVe the guy who occasionally posts snippets of info in the discussion forum?
 
Brian Damage said:
Isn't Greg Cooper from VALVe the guy who occasionally posts snippets of info in the discussion forum?
Click to expand...
*waits to see if they've finally figured it out.*
 
He had marc Lidlaw in.. Its Laidlaw by the way. God its fun not spoiling easter eggs.
 
Congrats. That's two.

John peaked around the corner and watched the two soldiers make a right turn. The scientist between them was making small talk. He sneaked up on them from behind and walked behind them as quietly as possible until they came to a crossing. The two soldier showed the doctor to a locked door and he entered his security code. As the door slid open John dived out from the corner. He put the shotgun against the back of one of the marines.
“Drop your guns!” The two soldier slowly turned around. The man with the barrel at his chest stared at him. The both smiled and threw their guns to the ground, trying not to laugh. John got worried and waved with the gun at them.
“Shut up! What the **** are you laughing at? Shut up!” He heard the sound of an MP5 reloading behind his back.
He slowly turned around keeping the gun at the marine. Behind was roughly ten other marines with guns.
“Now you drop ‘your’ gun.” He turned back and the two soldiers were holding their guns again.

He looked at the faces around him, all of them were focused on him, at his gun, at his finger on the trigger. He slowly let go of the trigger and drew his fingers from the gun. He placed it on the ground and put his hands behind his head. The man in the white coat stepped forward.
“For god’s sake… who ever you are, there is no need for concern, they are on our side!” The soldier raised his 9mm behind his head and blew clear his brain.
John flinched as more blood and brains landed on him. He was waiting for his own shot when the butt of a gun knocked him to the ground. Before he lost consciousness he heard someone give an order that he was going topside for questioning.

John was thrown back into his cell. His head hit the edge of the bunk hard and caused another wound. The blood and brain substance covering his uniform was getting into his skin, he had never wanted a shower this bad before. They had interrogated him for about two hours, they had broken his nose while asking him about a whole bunch of names; Dr Birdwell, Dr Ellis, Dr Rosenberg, Professor McTaggert, Dr Freeman, Dr Simmons and lots of doctors and professors. After he had started making up places where he had seen these people, which was about twenty minutes after they cracked his third rib, they had dragged him back to his cell.

After much practise he managed to pull himself up on the bunk and closed his eyes. As he fell to sleep he thought of what had happened today, his dreams were stained with soldiers in gas masks, dead scientists and strange monsters. He thought back to this morning. He wondered what had happened to Pete. Was he alright? He may never find out.
He opened his eyes and raised his right arm. His watch was still ticking. 8:31 PM. His shift had just ended.



Pete shook his head and looked forward into the swinging vent. He was trying to move but couldn’t. He tried to move his arm but instead lost his balance and fell on the steel floor. The bang shook the vent and he heard a crackling noise, the whole vent pipe fell to the floor.
He crept out from the small cramped tunnel. He grabbed his gun and tried to drag himself on the floor but there was nothing to get a grip on.

He just lay on the floor, still bleeding from his legs that had been wounded by the grenade. The blood loss was starting to set in and his vision was fading. He heard a loud crash somewhere close by. He wasn’t far away from an exit to the surface, he could hear a helicopter taking off or lifting, he wasn’t sure. He heard a scream close by and saw a scientist come running down the corridor, followed by gun shots, an explosion rocked the corridor and he heard a great rumbling. He turned his head upward and before he even had time to get shocked the roof collapsed, burying Pete under five tonnes of cement.
 
There was a squeak when the steel door opened, the glass window had been shot to pieces a long time ago.
Just this morning a certain security guard had used it to get to work, now a tall soldier with two stripes on his arm was using it to carry out his orders. His muddy boots left stains on the floor as he walked straight through the corridor to the door furthest down. The private standing outside the door saluted him.
“Corporal Charpenter.”
“Private. I’m relieving you.” The man looked miss trustingly on him.
“Really? I didn’t know I was getting relieved.”

“Don’t fight it sun, just thank your lucky star, you get to go out amongst the aliens again.” The private face dropped.
“Yeah… ****ing great.” He looked at the corporal again and commented: “You haven’t got a gun?”
“No, I left mine outside, shotguns aren’t much use out there anymore so I’ll borrow yours to guard this ****er.”
The man seemed hesitant but reached the corporal his shotgun.
“Thankyou.” He swung the shotgun at his head and the private fell to the floor, another blow and he was knocked out.

Corporal Charpenter ran to the door and waved at the two men outside peaking through the window. They came storming in and guarded the corridor. Charpenter grabbed the key from the guard and opened the door.
The man was lying on the bunk, blood dripping from his face, a sticky, blood-covered Kevlar lay on the floor.
The man swung his legs over the side and sat up. He stared at the man in the door. With the light flowing in from the evening outside into the dark cell he looked like some alien in a shot from a sci-fi movie.
The man slowly walked into the room with a 9mm in his hand, aimed at John.
John Halson understood that he was about to meet his death.

“Rise and shine, Mr Halson.” John stared at him.
“No, I’m not accusing you of sleeping on the job, your shift ended… twenty minutes ago. Get up.”
John slowly got up and stood in front of the man. He was a bit taller and much, much worse-looking in clothes covered in dried up blood and sweat and blood on his face and forehead. The gun was pointed at his chest, a definite kill if fired. He drew a heavy sigh and stared into the man who had been inspecting him from head to toe. He stared back. John was aware of a motion and the gun moving. He waited for the blast.
There was none.
He looked down. The man had swung the gun around and was offering it to him.

“Your gun Mr Halson.”
John looked at him with astonishment. His hand slowly grasped the gun and held it where it was, aimed at the corporal.
“If you’re going to shoot me, shoot me. Otherwise, we are in a hurry.”
John was still too tired to understand a thing when the man grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door. The two other soldiers, each with an MP5 were guarding the door and helped carry John when his legs failed on him. They carried/dragged him across the parking lot to an SUV standing by the gate with a group of men around it. They let him go when they reached the car and John stood before Captain Cleer once more.
“Captain.”
“Halson.”
“What is all this?” The captain looked up at the dark clouds. A light rain has started to fall.
“You may call it payback. Or repentance.”
“I never took you for a religious man Cleer.”
“I’m not. But I believe every man should repent his sins none the less.”
“And you are going to do this… how? By letting me go? Do you think I’ll even make it out the gates?”

“Yes you will. With one of these you will.” He pointed at a small badge attached to the car on both sides, right next to the BMRF logo, it was an orange glow in the dark sticker that said: “VIP Personnel”. There was one in both the front and read windows as well.
“The military won’t touch you. I promise.” John nodded and bit his lower lip.
“You think that’s enough? You think this justifies what you’ve done here? Do you?”
“No. That’s why I’m staying here, with my men. We’re gonna get as many of your men out of here as possible. Even if it costs me my life. You have my word.”
“Yeah well I’ll believe it when I see it.” John climbed into the car and looked in the back seat. A black man in a white lab coat with half a leg missing was lying there, bleeding all over the upholstery.
“Who’s that?” Cleer looked at the man with the bandaged stump left of his leg.

“His name is Dr Vance. We found him half-way to the surface via the transit tunnels in area 3. He’s hurt pretty bad, get him to a hospital in Santa Fe as quickly as you can. And keep off the main roads. I think he has a daughter somewhere in Santa Fe to.” John nodded and turned the key to the ignition. The windshield was wet from the rain and the headlights illuminated the rain drops in the air in front of the car. He turned on the wind wipers. Cleer reached his hand to John through the open door. John closed the door.
The last thing he saw was Cleer and 9 members of the Fox Company, 25th Recon regiment through the rear view mirror. They raised their hands to their heads and saluted John Halson behind the speeding SUV heading for Santa Fe.




Subject: Halson, John
Status: Subject out of range.


Subject: Tiel, Pete
Status: Subject is missing, presumed dead.


Subject: Cleer, Butch
Status: Deserter, top priority.


Subject: Birdwell, Kevin
Status: Subject killed in nuclear accident.


The end
 
Awesome!

Ken Birdwell ------- Senior Software Development Engineer <Kevin Birdwell>
John Guthrie. (designer, mapper at valve software) <Halson John - Reaching a bit here with the common first name, but meh.>
Kelly Thornton - Sound Engineer / Game Designer (he did DoD sound stuff) <Sergent Thorton>

Those were the others I noticed.
 
Z|insane said:
Awesome!

Ken Birdwell ------- Senior Software Development Engineer <Kevin Birdwell>
John Guthrie. (designer, mapper at valve software) <Halson John - Reaching a bit here with the common first name, but meh.>
Kelly Thornton - Sound Engineer / Game Designer (he did DoD sound stuff) <Sergent Thorton>

Those were the others I noticed.
Click to expand...
There are lots more.
How did you guys like the ending?
 
Awesome ending, I was suprised at what Cleer did, as I wasn't sure what he was going off to assemble the men for. So that was a nice wrapup. Keeping with the status of the subjects was a nice touch too.
 
You haven't read Half-life genesis have you? (my other fan fic)
 
Here's the compiled version. (split in two, too big for 1 attatchment)

Rimmer, you may want to go through and divide it into sections/ chapters. Right now there's just whitespace dividing it were your posts were.
 
PunisherUSA said:
Here's the compiled version. (split in two, too big for 1 attatchment)

Rimmer, you may want to go through and divide it into sections/ chapters. Right now there's just whitespace dividing it were your posts were.
Click to expand...
I'm gonna write Chapters in the word document.
 
a Private Jungels and a Corporal She-zxsgcrvcxxxzzgrcvx Oh ****!
Click to expand...

I guess its Corporal Shepard? :P Nice story AJ :) got realyl carried away reading it :)
 
I am going to write a new one. Soon. Just working out the ideas...
 
Read this story it will make everything I did to you pale in comparision.
 
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Tollbooth Willie
Tollbooth Willie
Tollbooth Willie
HL2.NET HORROR SLAP
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Tollbooth Willie
Tollbooth Willie
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