CHAPTER 3: ROAST CANAL

Ramsay made his way through an old rail yard, lifting train cars and hurling them clear over the horizon whenever they stood in his path. He was beginning to hunger again, and this time, he thought, he may not be so understanding of failure.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, a low, warbling hum came into auditory range. The distinctive fusion engines of a combine dropship. Ramsay briefly considered eating it, but thought better of it.

"Bollocks, I've already eaten crustacean today! But, what is…..?"

As the dropship came into view, Ramsay noticed that it was holding a troop deployment module, and tbe door was opening. And as it did, white particles began falling to the ground.

Ramsay's highly attuned nose picked up on the identity of this new thing immediately, and his eyes took on an ethereal glow.

"Risotto! The perfect mid-day meal!"

Ramsay began sprinting towards the fallen risotto, dragging his cameraman by the arm. The cameraman cried out in pain as his arm was dislocated, and his legs lifted off the ground, such was the speed of Ramsay's travel.

As they reached a ledge leading into a canal, filled with disgusting water, Ramsay did not hesitate to dive in. When he got there, however, he found that the Risotto had already disintegrated in the acidic water.

Ramsay's childish glee disappeared and became slowly replaced with a rage the likes of which not seen before on this earth. But before he could act on the dark thoughts brewing within him, a voice penetrated his ghastly intonations.

"Hey down there! You better keep moving, the CP's are sweeping through this area!"

Gordon snapped his head towards the offending person with sickening speed.

"Sod off, you pillock!"

The rebel was taken aback at this insult, but the red glow coming from the eyes of the white-shirted man below him indicated that it would be best to leave, post-haste.

Gordon, without a word or any indication of effort, rose to the surface of the water and began walking across it, forcing his cameraman to laboriously swim after him.

After several more rage-filled rants, the duo reached an area of the canal system that was dried up. Trash and abandoned cars filled the channel, and Gordon prepared to annihilate all obstacles in one fell swoop when his attuned senses alerted him, once again, to the presence of food nearby.

Ramsay took flight and sighted on a nearby boxcar. He dove towards it and violently crashed through the solid steel.

Inside, two residents sat with mouth-parts agape, for indeed one human and one Vortigaunt were within.

The man broke the silence.

"How did you… well, um, my name's Joe, and this is my Vortigaunt friend, we're here to.."

Joe was cut off as ramsay strode by him without a word or passing glance, and siezed the vortigaunt by the neck, squeezing his big meaty scottish hands as the Vortigaunt struggled for breath. In some last-ditch defense effort, the alien called upon the Vortessence, sending lethal green electricity crackling into Ramsay's body. This, however, did nothing to deter him. As the Vort sank to the ground, dead, Ramsay turned to Joe.

"Roight, you, sir, get to witness first-hand an incredibly rare cooking technique. Watch closely!"

Ramsay produced two chef's knives from thin air, and began scraping them against each other to sharpen them. He then plunged one of them into the Vort's eye socket, prying out it's large, ruby-red eye. He took the eye, impaled it on the knife, and then shot two red lasers from his own eyes, effectively searing what could only be a rare delicacy in Ramsay's mind. He took a nibble and stumbled backwards, as if overcome with elation at his creation.

"That, is absolutely stunning, and a great mid-day meal for any occasion. Try it!"

He held out his hand, and as if grabbed by an invisible force, Joe, who had been presently attempting to escape the boxcar, flew into Ramsay's grasp. He shoved the remainder of the eye directly down Joe's throat, and then dropped him into a pile on the floor, choking and sobbing in the fetal position.

"Roight, now, off we go once more!"

Ramsay moved his hands in a parting motion and the other wall of the boxcar opened up as if rend with a godlike sword. He strolled briskly through it, his cameraman in hot pursuit despite his injuries and malnourishment.

Before them lay a continuation of the canal's strewn debris. Ramsay resolved to clear the way.

"Roight, Shoop-da-woop!"

Ramsay opened his mouth and at once a beam of pure blue energy shot out with such brilliance that it would have blinded any who looked directly at it. The entire width of the canal as well as it's contents were vaporized in an instant, and with it, unbeknownst to Ramsay, was Rebel Station 8.

As Ramsay walked down the new passageway, whistling, he did not see the Combine city scanner floating hundreds of feet above, it's high-resolution cameras watching him intently. And observing the feed from his penthouse office, was Breen.

Breen watched this man with interest. A creepy grin stretched across his face. The power wielded by this superhuman, now that he knew how to control it, could be absolute. And as long as he held the reigns, the possibilities were endless for him. He could crush the resistance singlehandedly. And, he thought with a chuckle, he could even crush the Combine. The Universal Union could be his, alone. He could rule everything. He just had to figure out how to keep Gordon Ramsay fed.