Another lame title!
Holy hell, did this story make me go insane! This is the longest thing I have ever written in my lifetime (6, 198 words?!), adding up to 11 pages over Word. My second place biggest story was only 7 pages. Geeze!

Anyway, this is something I told you guys that I would write, and I finally did; it's the story of how Barney made it to City 17 and became a Metro Cop. I could've just went the easy way and said he knocked a cop out and stole his clothes, but that wouldn't make a good story now, would it?

Based on: Half-Life 2 (Valve)
Rating: Ahh, I'd say K+ , it's not that bad, I don't think.
Author's Notes: Doing research was hard for this one. I have no idea where the hell people go when it comes to turning into a Metro Cop, or if people actually offer to do it or what, but I thought that Nova Prospekt sounded better than the Citadel. Hope you like it! I also made quite a few references to "Raising the Bar"; these should be easier to spot.

--

How the hell he got here, Barney wasn't sure. One moment familiar voices and noises of the waves of the toxic water splashing onto the concrete shore was replaced with the loud bangs of wheels over train tracks. He remembered himself sitting on top of a semi-comfortable, worn-out seat of a jet ski, now he felt himself tightly being held up by metal, feet dangling in the air. He was just making a run to one of the refugee camps set up along the canals, next thing he knew, filtered voices of anger and a shock of pain surrounded him.

The light was dim. His pupils tried their best to focus and make out anything he could within the darkness. He was confined in what seemed to be some kind of metal pod, hanging on the wall of a thin car of a Combine Razor Train. The back of his neck met with the feeling of cold metal. The train car felt chilly, yet the scent of sweat lingered in the air. There seemed to be others within the car—the wall in front of him had about four or so pods connected to it, but only half of them were full, containing one man and a woman. Next to him were three other pods—the one right beside him carried a man, his face looking full of innocence.

"Hey bud," he weakly said to Barney. His voice sounded hoarse—why, Barney wasn't sure of. His irises contained a dull sparkle of hope, although his smile seemed to be showing fake emotions. "Are you ok? You seemed knocked-out before."

Hell yeah, he should have. Barney really didn't know what he should say to this guy. The mention of the resistance could easily rain hell on them should the wrong ears be listening. Hell, he didn't even know what ears were listening. The guy in the pod next to him frowned from Barney's lack of a response.

"Ahh, I see," he said, although his voice trembled with uncertainty. He didn't say anything else after that; Barney really didn't have a clue of what this guy was thinking. He let silence interrupt the conversation for a few moments longer, thoughts circling in the air. The other people within the pods stayed silent—their faces seemed to be permanently carved with nervous eyes.

"My name's Samuel," the guy finally said. He tossed Barney another one of his faked-emotional smiles. "Samuel G-11789RF, if you want to be formal. How about you? What's your name?"
Barney's paranoia never annoyed him so much as it did now. This guy was definitely nice—those puppy-like eyes seriously made him feel bad for the guy. But giving out his information in what could possibly be in the presence of the Combine was a hard decision for him.
"Barney," he finally forced out of his lips. "My name…is Barney."
"Barney, huh?" Samuel took a moment to study the face of his new acquaintance. "Very nice to meet you. What brings you to Nova Prospekt?"
Nova Prospekt? The name rang a bell to Barney, but the location itself was something he could not bring up a picture of in his head.
"The hell is that?" Barney nearly spat out, although not intentionally. Samuel looked at him with his dark eyebrows raised. His expression basically asked the question for him—You seriously do not know what Nova Prospekt is?
However, someone else on the other side of the train car asked that question for him.
"Nova Prospekt…" A man that appeared to be in his older ages sneered at Barney, his face covered in filth from unknown reasons. "How could you have never heard of Nova Prospekt?" The woman next to the old man made a quiet whimper as she nearly began to shiver, strands of her frizzy, dark brown hair getting into her eyes. It seemed obvious that she didn't want to think about the place herself. But the man continued on, anyway.
"Nova Prospekt is the place where unsuspecting citizens, just like us, get sent to be turned into soldiers for the god damn Combine. They rip out your soul and brainwash ya, and then ya get to live a life of shootin' the people you once knew." The woman began to cry in the corner. Wiping her tears away was not an option, since her arms were banded down. A large frown of disagreement came across Samuel's face.
"Not necessarily," he began. The man just glared at him. Barney could have sworn he heard a hiss leak out from his lips as Samuel continued. "If you're willing to comply, then you can become an officer for Civil Protection instead of Overwatch. They don't perform surgery on you for that or anything—they just give you training and send you back to the city you came from." The woman was bawling now, but the old man yelled at her to shut up. Barney could feel his fingers twitch as he was tempted to punch that guy. The man returned his glare to Samuel.
"You drank the water, didn't you?" he just simply asked. Samuel raised a brow, indicating that he was clueless about what the man was talking about.
"My husband was taken by the Combine to come here," the woman said, suddenly. She talked in a low whisper, her voice still containing her sadness. "But he never came back, and now…I just—" Bawling again. Samuel kept his frown as the man just wouldn't tone down his glare. A new voice had entered the conversation, although to Barney's anger it was just a computer-generated voice.
"Razor Train 667 has entered Nova Prospekt. Train is authorized. Preparing for unload." The screech of metal-on-metal was the only sound anyone was able to hear. Filtered, robotic-toned voices could soon be heard from the other side of the thick metal door as the train jerked to a stop. It quickly opened itself automatically, and a few Combine soldiers made their way inside.

Barney blinked as he tried to scan the soldiers before him. They weren't the ones he's seen before, no—while they had the same basic attire, their uniforms were changed so that they were fit to show they were Nova Prospekt guards. They walked over to the woman first, who at this point had stopped her crying, even though her cheeks were still covered in tear-trails, and used some kind of electronic device at the side of the pod. The pod's bindings snapped open, but the woman fell down onto her knees as soon as she was released. "Get up!" the Combine shouted in its cruel-hearted tone towards her. Barney could feel his trigger finger twitching as he watched the soldier kick the woman in the side of the ribs. Crying again, the woman got up and quickly scurried out of the train before the guard had another chance to harm her. The guard then came over to the old man now, while another soldier came over and released Samuel. Barney was released last, relieved to finally be out of the pod, only to have questionable thoughts enter his mind once again.

His bullet-proof vest, along with the rest of his attire, had been replaced with old, dirty clothes. Dust covered boots, jeans, and a buttoned-up blue shirt had replaced his old clothing. His gun and belt were gone, which only made him have a bigger urge to shoot something. The Combine that released him slapped him on the backside of his head, as he yelled at him to walk forward. Barney made a soft growl as a response, but complied. Samuel and the others were ahead of him, and they all entered the same room. The floor tiles cracked underneath their boots, and the broken glass from the barred windows let a breeze quickly pass by. The walls were covered in rust and other spots of dirt and chipped-paint. A large monitor was at the wall in front of them, projecting the Combine's logo brilliantly. The guards behind them commanded them to stop, and so they obeyed. None of them attempted to look at each other—all of their vision was focused directly on the screen.

Barney felt like shooting it ten thousand times over once he saw whose face it had projected. There was Doctor Breen, giving off his fake smile as he was about to begin another one of his Breencasts. Barney didn't even need to see his face to know who he was—his faked-soothing voice was enough to give it away. That was a smirk with blood-dripping fanged teeth, that was a sparkle of evil filling his eyes, that was a hiss of a laugh that cracked from his voice. At least, that's how Barney saw it. The others just simply watched, although the old man made a quiet grunt to himself.

"Welcome," Doctor Breen began. "Welcome to Nova Prospekt. Either you have chosen or we have chosen you to begin on a new journey as a soldier, working hard at hand for the rest of us and for our…Benefactors. Here at Nova Prospekt, we give you the proper respect a citizen such as you should receive. Becoming a soldier is not just a simple act, or a stage in one's life. It is a step ahead in the caste system; it demonstrates how willing you are to be part of the greater good."

What a load of crap.

"If you have chosen to dedicate your life in order to make your city a better place, then you will become a Metro Cop, taking care of your fellow citizens at the city you had recently come from, and other various cities close by. If we have selected you for our plans for a better future, then you are the lucky ones who will travel the world and perform acts that will bring pride to both the denizens of Earth and to our Benefactors—you shall become a Combine soldier."

Barney had a feeling in his gut that he might be one of those. No way in hell would he offer to work for these demons. They were probably firing up the brainwasher right now, just for him. Breen continued, "Our soldiers will now escort you to your rooms, where you will stay until they call you for when it is your time to join us as your new self. Let me take the time to welcome you personally to the troops of the Combine Overwatch, and to the troops of Civil Protection. Good luck."

With that, the fake smile of the man that came straight from hell disappeared behind the Combine's logo yet again. Barney quickly looked at the others. The woman seemed to be in a worse emotional state than she was on the train, and the man seemed to be angrier than he was before. Samuel had a slight smile on his face, and for some reason he seemed…relaxed.

…relaxed? About this?

He really didn't have a clue, did he?

The guards made a quick conversation with each other, robotic voices giving commands, hand gestures pointing to lost corners of the prison.
"You two!" One of the guards pointed at the old man and woman, its voice filter giving off a cold-hearted tone. The guard didn't have to say any other words—the two knew what it wanted them to do. Barney wanted to watch where they were going, but another guard came over to him and blocked his vision with its bulky figure.
"The rest of you, come with me!" it shouted at them. The rest of them actually only consisted of Barney and Samuel—Barney began to ponder to himself about the lack of others here. They soon started to walk in the opposite direction the man and woman had gone, the dim light of the moonlight that leaked through the openings of the ceiling and the broken lights leading their way.
Barney paid close attention to every hallway and corner they passed. Jail cells were plentiful within the walls, most of them with no doors—those that did have some appeared very rusty however still able to hold a hostile man within. An escape route seemed hard to find—everywhere were cameras, turrets, guards, broken paths; something along the lines of "you're not getting out of here that easily…maybe not even at all". Large, alien walls seemed to be eating its way into the building, randomly appearing in place of a few once-was walls of the prison. The guard took one particular moment after minutes of walking to finally stop. It turned around and faced a jail cell, the only light inside of it being what it received from the outside walls.
"Get in!" it demanded. Barney frowned. Man, if he had a gun, that Combine would be dead by now.
…but maybe he would be, too. All of the Combine here carried their pulse-rifles with itchy trigger fingers. His little pistol wouldn't exactly stand a chance. Besides, he was outnumbered.

Barney and Samuel entered the cell, with no further words. The guard then slammed the door shut, locked it, and then walked out of the vision of the two. Barney took a brief moment to scan his surroundings. There wasn't much within the cell—two large planks of wood were attached to the walls opposite of each other, acting as a bed for the prisoners. A sink and toilet were near the end of the wall, although their rusty outsides proved that they didn't work anymore; if they did, it wasn't exactly something Barney wanted to use, anyway. Samuel walked over and sat down on one of the beds; Barney, however, sat down on the cracked ground next to the door.
"Well." Samuel was beginning to twiddle his thumbs, although he focused his vision on his fellow prison mate. "What city are you from?"
Barney remained silent. He had been living at Black Mesa East since after the Seven Hour War, as a request from Eli Vance. Never had he been in one of the Combine residential cities before. He turned away from Samuel, emotionless, hoping that he wouldn't speak anymore.
But poor Samuel seemed to be just too lonely. "Ahh, I see," he told Barney, acting as though he understood, although he obviously didn't. "The constant relocating they make us do…I guess you forgot which city you recently lived in, huh?"

Sure, let's go with that.

"What does your tag say?" Samuel slipped him a smile once again. Tag? Barney quickly searched his body looking for what Samuel was talking about. Indeed, he found it—wrapped around his arm was some kind of slip that read: B. Calhoun, City 17, CP MC—City 14 & 17.
"Uhh…City Seventeen," Barney responded, although unsure why it said that. City Seventeen…was he going there after they were done with him here? But what the hell did the rest of the information mean?
Just then, Barney's mind filled with shock as he read the tag once more. B. Calhoun. Damn it, they knew his name. He hoped that Doctor Breen didn't know he was here; if he did, he hoped that he had forgotten about Barney. He barely met him back in Black Mesa, but even so, the thought stayed stuck in his mind.
Samuel got up from his bed and walked over to Barney. "Confused, aren't you?" He pointed to Barney's tag. "That's your name, followed by what city you're from. CP stands for 'Civil Protection', MC stands for 'Metro Cop', and the two cities listed are where you'll be performing your duties."
This guy knew an awful lot about the Combine. That only made Barney feel more suspicious around him.
Samuel took a quick glance of his tag. S. Robins, City 49, CP MC—City 49 & 40, it read. Samuel read the information out loud to Barney, even though he had already read it himself. "Yeah, City Forty-Nine is rough," Samuel began, turning his attention back towards his inmate. "It's actually pretty far from here; I'm surprised the Nova Prospekt Express goes there. How's City Seventeen? Is it any better than the other cities you've been relocated to?"

Barney let a quick pause interrupt the conversation as he tried to think of what he could possibly say. "Look, Samuel," he exclaimed, as he slowly rose from the ground. "I'm sorry, but I'm not very…comfortable…when it comes to talking about this stuff. I'm pretty tired, too." He walked over to the empty bed, saying, "I'm gonna get some rest now. Maybe you should, too."
"Yeah," Samuel muttered with a sigh, as he followed Barney's example and walked over to his bed. "I guess they'll call us tomorrow." They both lied down on their beds, which creaked under the weight they now carried. The beds weren't exactly comfortable—after all, it was just a piece of wood—but that didn't seem to bother Samuel, although it drove Barney nuts. He wasn't really tired at all; he just faked it in hopes of a way to get Samuel to stop talking to him.
"G'night, Barney," he heard Samuel whisper, before sounds of soft snores covered the silence. Barney let a sigh of relief creep out from his nostrils. Finally, he thought to himself. I couldn't exactly keep up that act for long.

Barney's paranoia wouldn't let him sleep soundly at all. He stayed up half of the night, keeping his ears open to any sounds that carried itself in the air. Occasional beeps from random Combine machinery were heard every now and again, but the Combine themselves seemed to be silent all night. Barney waited restlessly for any signs of life, anything that would suggest an escape, until exhaustion finally kicked in and his eyelids slipped closed…

--

"These two are going to be Metro Cops?"
"Yes, however be careful with this one. Doctor Breen says that he knows him."
"You don't mean that—"
"Yes. He is from Black Mesa."

Barney's head was just a giant cloud of fog, and his body felt sore to the bone. He didn't have to hear the rest of the conversation in order to get what the two guards were talking about—Doctor Breen did recognize him, unfortunately. They knew that he was from Black Mesa.

"Is he that scientist that was the only survivor in the test chamber after the portal was created?" The conversation between the Combine continued.
"No, this is one of the security guards that managed to escape."
"Why is he going to be a Metro Cop, then?"
"Doctor Breen says that making him a Metro Cop would be better than becoming a soldier."
"Why?"
"He told us that we wouldn't understand that."

Silence stopped the conversation from continuing. Barney felt something nudge harshly at his shoulder. "Get up!" shouted one of the cruel-hearted voices. With a moan, Barney slowly forced his body upwards. His eyes met with that of the glowing yellow goggles of the guard, pulse-rifle held at the ready. Even their breaths seemed to be in a harsher tone because of their voice filters. Barney's vision noticed Samuel already up, his face free of wrinkles and bags under the eyes caused by exhaustion and stress. Barney didn't have to look into a mirror to know that he face was already filled with those, not to mention that scar he got back in Ravenholm…
"Come with me!" The Combine interrupted his thoughts, heavy footsteps walking forward, followed by Barney's own. Samuel tried to follow, until the other guard shouted at him.
"You, come with me!" it exclaimed. Barney's brows rose with questioning as he watched Samuel walk down the opposite side of the hall.
"Ignore him," was a command given to him by the guard leading him as they continued to walk down the hall. Barney looked around in search for the other two that were with them on the train yesterday. Not that he wanted to see the old man again—he really, really did not want to listen to another one of his rants caused by blind-rage—he was just curious to see what the Combine did with them. He looked through every jail cell and room they passed, but the air was clear of human sounds and the only beings in the hallways seemed to be just the guard and Barney. After minutes of walking, the two finally entered a room—Combine consoles littered the walls, along with cameras, and two other guards stood still next to the console. The door closed with a bang behind the two, and one of the guards walked over and stood in front of it, blocking their only exit. Barney was pushed forward by the guard that led him here, which caused him to fall onto the floor with a grunt of pain. He was then pulled upward by his collar by the same guard that had pushed him down, and forced Barney to turn his head around to face one of the consoles. Barney watched it with eyes squinting with anger, and he growled once he saw who came on.

It was Doctor Breen.

"Barney Calhoun, my old employee." The old Black Mesa administrator gave Barney a smile, but Barney shot back a glare at him. "It's great to see you alive. I'm surprised that you managed to escape Black Mesa in one piece."
"Same could be said for you," Barney barked. "I was hoping that you'd be dead by now." Doctor Breen laughed, finding Barney's reaction quite humorous.
"Oh, Barney, you're such a fool. Didn't you know that if I hadn't surrendered, we would all be dead by now?"
Barney just grunted as a response.
"Think about it," Breen began, as he clasped his hands together. "You know that we didn't stand a chance in the Seven Hour War. You know that the Combine would have wiped us out should the war had gone on for an hour longer."
"I'd rather be dead than live in this hell-hole with you," Barney snapped. A click of a pulse-rifle followed by the hollow feeling of a gun's muzzle met with his temple as a response. Doctor Breen laughed again, still amused at Barney's reaction.
"Well, that could easily be done," he said, a smirk across his face. "The Combine will only shoot you should I give the command. However, there is an option where you can keep your life." Barney raised a brow.
"The catch?" he spat out, with curiosity. Breen couldn't keep the smile from leaving his face.
"Simple: You join the Combine army. I'll even let you keep your memory, and we will not perform trans-human surgery on you. How does that sound?" Barney growled once again, his pupils now swirling with hot anger.
"Forget it," he responded quite harshly. In fact, the words themselves seemed cold enough to freeze anything that heard them. Another feeling of a muzzle of a gun pushed itself into Barney's other temple.
"Let me rephrase that," Breen responded, with a look of disappointment across his face. "Becoming one of the Combine is a better choice." He talked so nicely, so soothingly, it seemed as though he was trying to calm down a crying baby. "Being a member of the Combine gives you wonderful privileges. You get this feeling of being stronger, more superior than we, the human race, have ever felt before. Don't you want that power surging through your veins? Barney, my old friend, you will join the Combine army. Or else…we will take your life."
Barney began to sweat. He definitely did not want to become one of the Combine, but he definitely did not want to die either. Breen's speech didn't help in the slightest—Barney knew better than that.
Don't give in, don't give in, he thought to himself. His eyes frantically searched around for any means of escape, anything that would help him fight back. Against his hopes, nothing was found. He could hear the guards slowly tighten their grip around the triggers, now, pulling them tighter and tighter...

"Alright!" Barney finally shouted, from pure stress and fear. "Alright…" He began to talk in a low whisper, his face showing nothing but surrender. "I'll join."

The triumphant grin on Breen's face was so wide, that Barney could have sworn he saw his skin tear.

"Very well. Welcome to the Combine forces, Mister Calhoun." The guard that led Barney in the room soon turned him around, and shoved him through the door once again.

Barney was laughing inside the whole way to the next room the guard led him to. It was pretty obvious that there was no way Doctor Breen would let him keep his memory—Barney was beyond stubborn as it is. But the fact that he actually fell for that—he couldn't believe how gullible Breen was.
Now, managing to escape was the next question. The thought of completing his only goal wouldn't leave him. This room didn't seem as different as the last—there were consoles attached to the walls, some kind of table that looked like it was meant to perform surgery on in the center, and some unknown device on the side that seemed as though it was meant to sit on. There was another guard in the room, but he was the only one, for some reason. "Sit down!" the guard shouted to him, pointing at the table. Barney simply walked over towards it and sat down like he was told. The other guard kept a close eye on him, with its pulse-rifle out and ready to shoot should he make the slightest movement. Barney's eyes scanned the room, looking for any sort of weapon he could take the two guards down with; the only ones he noticed were the pulse-rifles held closely to the guards themselves. Barney's only option was something he didn't exactly want to do: use his fists in a gun fight. Sighing with a grunt of stress, he tried running any sort of plan his brain could think of through the possibilities he might encounter through his head. The guard, in the mean time, pressed a few buttons on the odd machine. "You!" it shouted at Barney, which cause him to snap his attention out of his thoughts. It pointed to him, and then to the chair. Barney didn't want to hear any more of the Combine's angry commands, so he just walked over and sat down on the chair as he was told. He ran through a possible plan one more time—he could kick that guard and knock him off balance, swipe his pulse-rifle and shoot down the other guard before they knew what hit him. In fact, he was about to go ahead with that plan…until some kind of object slammed itself onto his head.

"Combine Memory Replacement Apparatus has started. Commencing memory replacement in five…four…"

Nice job, Calhoun. Look what you did now…

"…three…two…one…Commencing memory replacement now."

Barney's mind soon became that of a mixture of thoughts. Memories, ideas, any sort of thought he had in his lifetime soon swirled around in his head, repeating itself in his mind for only about a second each. He saw a moment of his memories from Black Mesa, of him hanging out with scientists, which then turned into him taking care of Alyx, which then turned into Eli Vance talking to him, which then changed into…every single memory. New thoughts soon joined the mixture—a fresh, new ingredient to the Combine mixing pot. Combine propaganda, Doctor Breen's image, thoughts of killing members of the resistance; they all circled throughout his head, attempting to replace everything he once knew. Soothing, familiar voices soon turned itself into the cruel-hearted tone of the Combine, trying its best to sound motivational.

CRACK!
BZZT!

The guards searched the room with apprehension for the source of the sudden noise that entered the building, their guns ready to ask any questions directed towards the culprit.

"What was that?" one of them asked the other, automatically. The sounds of their radio cries listing the current situation circled through the air as Barney went through his own torture. But then…it all stopped.

"Generator down! We have a generator down!" The yellow-tinted glowing goggles were the only thing that managed to project light within the room. Barney's head had an insane migraine; he felt as though he had been standing next to bombs whose explosive lives never seemed to end. He attempted to clear his mind in order to hear the rest of the commotion, and lifted the large what-ever-the-hell-that-was off of his head. He waited for his pupils to adjust to the sudden darkness, as he made out the frantic movements of the Combine before him. Now was the perfect time to strike. If only he wasn't going blind on this one…literally.

"Get the emergency power generator running!"
"Negative: power failure on that one, as well!"
"Well, get Calhoun, anyway! Quick!"

Barney's vision was still hazy, but he could make out the rushing colors of the Combine about to grab him. He tried to quickly escape the grasp of the machine, only to be caught in that of the Combine's.

"Stop struggling!" the Combine simply shouted at him. Of course, he didn't listen—not even having that familiar feel of a gun's muzzle against his back could stop him this time. Barney wanted to silence that guard so bad, he just wanted it to drop dead so that he could get the hell out of here.

Hey wait…that annoying robotic-toned voice stopped talking. That tight grip around his arm had let loose. Did he do that? No, in fact, a robotic cry could be heard as it was followed by the nervous, robotic voice of the other guard. Barney was relieved to know that his pupils had finally adjusted to the lack of light within the room, but he muttered words of confusion to himself once he saw what was happening. Some kind of Combine was taking a swing at the guard with his stun stick, its blue sparks creating a soft, blue-tinted light around the mask of the Combine. The guard fell to the ground with a robotic death call escaping from its filter. As soon as the thud of a corpse meeting with the ground had silenced, the Combine had turned to face Barney directly, its gold-tinted goggles lining up with his dark green eyes. Barney recognized that Combine—it was a Metro Cop. He's seen them in the canals before, but seeing one here had to mean only one thing…

"Barney?" A familiar voice soothed Barney's worries once the cop had taken off its helmet. It revealed a nervous-smiled Samuel, his eyes still sparkling with that dim hope of his from the very little light that managed to make itself into the room. "Hey, are you alright?" His smile was just too damn brilliant in this darkness.
Barney shot back a look of confusion to him.
"You can say that 'lost as hell' would fit the way I feel now," he responded, rubbing the back of his neck with his clammy hands. "What the hell was that?" Samuel let a soft laugh escape from his lips.
"What? Don't you recognize a rescue when you see one? Hey, listen, I know a way that you can get both of us out of here." Barney noticed, faintly, a blob of something that was tossed towards him. His arms caught it as a reflex, and he tried to examine it carefully in the darkness. "Put it on," came a command from his savoir. "It'll only be a matter of time before the Combine get the generators running again—the main one, at least. I doubt they'll fix the emergency backup one now." Barney fingered around the object once more as he tried to figure out what the hell he was holding. "It's a Metro Cop's suit," Samuel finally answered for him. "Just put it on."
Barney finally understood what the object was and slipped the clothes on as best as he could in the darkness. He felt around each piece of clothing, trying to figure out where he should place his arms and head. After a few minutes, he finally got it all figured out, and Samuel tossed him another object. This time Barney saw it coming, and caught it with ease. "This'll help you see," he heard Samuel say. Barney didn't have to finger around this one to know what it was—it was a Metro Cop's mask. He fashioned it comfortably onto his head, and was relieved to know that its night-vision feature had been automatically activated. Samuel did the same and placed his helmet back on.
"So, what the hell are you doing?" Barney questioned, his now-robotic-tone somehow indicating that he was still lost. Samuel shook his head.
"Hey, I could tell that you were a member of the resistance. I'm afraid to tell you that my acting job is a hell of a lot better than yours." Barney heard a soft laugh come out from Samuel's lips. "I'm actually part of the resistance myself, but wound up getting caught and dragged into the city. Then they took me here."
"Why save me?" Barney quickly asked, before Samuel could continue his story.
"Well hey—you escaped from Black Mesa, right? Dying now would suck."
"Yeah, but the others—" Samuel raised his hand to stop Barney from continuing.
"Too late for them," he muttered, his robotic-tone showing the little sadness it could. Barney was about to say something else, until the lights suddenly flickered on a few times. The sound of buzzing lamps soon leaked into the room, as the lights had finally turned on and stayed on.

"Unit C-01468, is the prisoner still with you?" Samuel gestured for Barney to be quiet, as he walked over to the console. He pressed a single button and responded.
"This is Unit C-01468; we managed to have the prisoner go through proper Metro Cop procedure before the sudden black-out. Prisoner is ready for transfer to assigned city." The robotic tone Samuel's voice filter gave off was enough to fool anyone into thinking that he was one of the guards himself.
"Affirmative. Bring prisoner to proper Razor Train; we are commencing an emergency evacuation of all Nova Prospekt prisoners that have gone through their Combine transitions."
"Ten-four, we'll send him there."

Radio silence was Samuel's received response. He turned his head around to face Barney. "Alright, you heard the man," he said, as he walked over towards the door. "Listen, as soon as you hit the city—you'll probably be sent to City Fourteen first—go look for some members of the resistance. They'll probably help you get back, somehow." Even though Barney couldn't see it, he could tell that Samuel was slipping him a smile from beneath that mask. He motioned for him to follow, and they began to walk down the eerie hallways of the prison, echoes of the Combine and past events bouncing off the walls.

Barney frowned to himself as he tired to recall every single memory he could think of. They were all still there, all seeming fresh as though they had just happened. No more of that damn propaganda. Brain-washing was definitely not something that he'd want to try again for the rest of his lifetime. He took a quick scan of his new Metro Cop outfit now that it was flooded with lights. C17.14 read his arm band in large, blocky letters. City Seventeen…wasn't that where he was going to be sent for his duties? Now that he thought about it, Black Mesa East was nearby that city, wasn't it? And didn't Doctor Breen live there?

That's when that wonderful idea hit Barney straight in the face.

Oh, he's gonna get it now, Barney thought to himself, a smirk creeping up his lips with a twinkle of the pride from his plan shining within his dark-green irises. Just wait until I get to City Seventeen, Breen. Just wait…

His triumphant grin was so wide, that Barney could of sworn he felt his skin tear.

--

Geeze, all this thinking made me nuts on this one! I kept thinking of plot ideas and other things--before I knew it, I wrote this much! I have no idea what the bands on the Metro Cops are for, but I assumed that they list the cities they preform their duties in. As for the brainwasher, I heard you see it in Episode One, but I couldn't find it anywhere, so I based it off of its concept from "Rainsing the Bar". Also, writing Breen's speech was the hardest thing to do for this one; I hope it turned out ok!