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"If you're that good, you shouldn't have to be that close at all, though, right?" Cado pointed out.

"Then, wouldn't it be better to use a sidearm at that point?" Cado continued, holding his Glock 18 up as a demonstration.

"You know, the Glock 18 is a fantastic little piece of work," the boatman commented distractedly, watching the water. He flicked a switch and one of the spotlights moved downwards, revealing a body floating face-down. It looked like it might have once been a young woman. "Ah. More of those," the boatman commented to himself, unworriedly. How much time did he spend down here? "But I'd go with an MP7," he continued abruptly. "Small enough to carry like a Glock 18, but with the armor-piercing function of the P90. Beautiful little thing. Wish I had one," he added somewhat wistfully. "Oh. Five minutes 'till touch-down, get psyched," the boatman added.

((Next time I post, it will be to land! Woohoo!))

((Okay, I lie. But only sort of.))

The boatman nodded in approval. "Impressive little thing there. Does it just spew fire or does it actually launch a projectile of sorts?" He glanced ahead, flicked a switch to turn a spotlight, and stiffened. "Uhm... something's different up there, that's not right. That tile used to be..." The boatman's comment on the tile made obvious the change; they were no longer in the sewer beneath Bullfrog, and obviously this was Mountain House's system, as it was all checkered blue and white tile. Well, blue, white, and brown. How horribly pleasant.

"That's off," he repeated. "Everyone, heaviest firearm you have, pointed to the corner," he commanded, hefting the G3 to his side in his right hand, the barrel pointed straight up. He slapped the safety off briefly with one hand, then slowed the boat as they pulled up to the corner.

Cado produced a fragmentation grenade from his coat.

"I know I should've brought a few phosphorous grenades," he complained as he unsnapped a strap from his coat. He grabbed the ends. "Everyone, a bit away from me," he commanded, placing the frag grenade in the makeshift sling and swinging it rapidly.

Alyx snapped her pistol to attention, focusing somewhat powerfully on where she presumed this threat would be coming from. The boatman lifted his rifle, resting the grip of the barrel on the console of his boat, pressing the stock into his shoulder as he piloted.

The boat slid forward, turned the corner...

Nothing.

The boatman puffed a huge sigh. "I would've sworn... a camera or something... why not sink us out here?" he muttered, reaching to his rifle to turn the safety back on. Ahead of them was a staircase that just magically rose from the tunnel. No docks, no nothing; they obviously didn't use it like Bullfrog did. The boatman drove his boat up to the stairs. As they got closer, they could see that the stairs went up aways, turned, and left the sewers. The boat bumped into the side and the boatman cast a rope out, quickly and deftly tying the boat to a conveniently present pipe. He patted it as though to check if it were stable, then nodded in the off-wardsly direction of the boat. Alyx was first to comply, jumping as far as she could off the side of the boat and sprinting for the stairs.

Cado slowed his sling's spins down, tossed his grenade a short distance into the air, and gently caught it as it came down, flicking off the impact-detonation function before storing it again. He followed his compatriots up the stairs, Glock 18 in hand.

When Alyx surfaced, she was reminded of the so-called "Monopoly houses". Every single house was identical, as far as the eye could see, aside from whatever little customizations the homeowners had installed. Nothing was different. Nothing was anything special. The stairs simply rose up out of the ground, ending flush with a concrete path that led out to the smoothly paved road. Hovering right there was a car, the keys in the ignition and the vehicle running. Alyx glanced around, let her concious go, and casually moved towards the vehicle. Disturbingly, she was good at it, acting as though she belonged. The door slid open and she climbed into the driver's seat, motioning slowly to her compatriots to join her. No one was around to see. Not in this cul-de-sac.