February 23, 1981

CIA Safehouse E9

West Berlin

We all sat around the evidence board on crates and boxes. I hadn't even realised Park had gotten up to go fetch the dosages when Adler began to speak.

"Alright Bell, we're going back to Vietnam..." I quickly looked over my shoulder to see Park injecting a needle into my neck. Part of me beleived that it was almost the price for giving, what she thought to be, those odd looks and glances. I didn't realise at the time that it was my own tender curiosity that was to blame for those glances.

There was no time to react before Adler let the words flow from his mouth.

"Remember... we had a job to do." I turned my attention back to the others, forgetting about the strange formula in my body.

I remember explaining parts of the story to the group. Occasionally Adler would help try to keep me on track by saying "Bell, what happened after that" or "Keep going".

They picked my brain dry of every detail from that mission until I described to them the info within the blue folder. In the moment I didn't even question why it had a blood stain in the file. How could I have even guessed it was my own?

February 24, 1981

CIA Safehouse

E9

Bell was at work at his own desk, near the punching bag. He looked up when he couldn't help but overhear the conversation between his two teammates. He pressed the paused button on his walkman and reomoced his headphones to listen.

"...it is my strong preference that we attempt to

capture rather than kill him. He holds answers to a great many questions." Park was trying to convince Adler to not shoot Volkov, not yet.

"You preference has been noted agent Park." Adler put out his cigarette.

She didn't protest, just stiffened Adler a look of frustration before returning back to her own desk, leaving behind a stack of files.

Being that they had worked together over a course of years prior it meant they were used to being in tune with one another when working in the field or at a desk. It also meant that he and Adler had bumped heads before, many times in fact, but it had never went too far when loyalty would be questioned. If he had to pick a side, it would make more sense to capture Volkov than kill him on the spot. Sims had told him how Adler shot Arash in Turkey and Bell had thought that if the decision would have been up to him, he would have captured over kill. He would much rather have Volkov answer questions from MI6 first and then be killed. It was common sense. Perhaps he could try to negotiate with Adler on this. Did he himself not have a say in it? After all is he not the one who will be going in on this too?

Suddenly he felt a peice of plastic him in the side of the face. He didn't realise he was still staring in the direction of her desk until Lazar had tossed him a new tape of music to listen to.

"Got a staring problem, Bell?" Lazar chuckled, walking over to the younger man.

"New music?" Bell asked, picking up the tape from his desk.

"Yea, I found it while taking out the trash the other day. Figured you might be interested. Alder told me how much you enjoy music."

"Thanks." Bell smiled as his friend walked off.

He observed the tape in his hand. It clearly had seen some wear from the subtle scratches on it. Hoping it would play, he slid the tape in and was pleased when he heard sound through his headphones.

After finishing up with some financial documents for supplies they would need for their missions, he took the stack of papers to Sims' desk.

"Sorry, we had to relive that mission earlier. I know how exhausting it feels to have to be there... all over again." Bell sighed, setting the papers down.

"Its, good. I know it was tough for you too." Sims looked up at him. Bell found it odd how he spoke as if he were wanting to say something else. Like he was reading off of a script. He pushed the thought to the back of his head.

"So our shop guy for this op?" Bell changed the subject.

"Yep. Whatever you guys need, I'll make sure you have it. If a year could be added to my life for as many contacts as I have, I'd be immortal while all the rest of you guys grew old." Sims laughed.

"So what if I asked for one of those Redeemer weapons? I hear those are exclusive."

"Consider it done." Sims said.

"A flamethrower?"

"No problem." Sims said casually.

"A recoiless rifle?"

"Thats light work, I can have that in house by next week."

"Alright." Bell smirked. "What about a twin engine- custom built, attack helicopter?"

"Clever. But I wasn't joking earlier." Sims nodded his head. "Thats a hell of a request, but give me enough time and I can have one parked outside."

"I'll take it all."

"Great. Now how you gonna pay for that? Last I heard, Adler cuts the checks around here. Unless you got-"

"Alright, alright." Bell cut him off. "Here." He handed Sims some cash. "Just the Redeemer." He said.

"I'll have it in soon." He collected the cash, placing it inside a drawer of his desk. "Oh and.." Sims lowered his voice. "You want a peice of advice?"

"About?"

"Your staring problem." He looked over to where Park sat, working on files. Bell looked over his shoulder to see what he was implying.

"Don't do it. These things never turn out good for anyone. Even Adler can tell you, he's got the scar to prove it."

"I don't- it's not like that at all." Bell said rather calmly. "I was just trying to read one of those papers over on the wall. We've got work to do, I don't have time for things like that." Bell sold his act rather well. Although he didn't know if it was to himself or Sims? Maybe both.

"Just making sure your mind is straight."

"Alright everybody, lets talk." Adler rounded everyone up around the evidence board to dicuss the mission in Berlin. "Anton Volkov..." Bell listened while also maintaining his own train of lost thoughts.

"And why not keep him alive? For questioning at least?" Bell spoke up.

"He'a too dangerous to keep alive. If we needed to know more there wouldn't be a discussion about it."

"But surely-"

"Bell, if you have any greivances you can come talk to me personally and I'd be happy to deny your request. We don't have time for this." Adler said sharply. "Intel says that Volkov has another friend aside from Kraus. This man here." He stuck a picture of an aged man on the board. "Alexi Reznov."

"Alexi has been in league with Volkov by combining their two armies and resources to ship weapons per Perseus' request." Park added. "There is no question that he is to eleminated. His death will weaken their system greatly."

The brefing went as I said it did. Argue about killing or capturing Volkov. Kraus. Informant. Berlin. Perseus.

Alexi Reznov.

I'm disgusted at how their tricks and color codes fooled me. Sometimes its all I can think about. How it plagues me. They could have said Alistair Petrov and I... or Bell, probably wouldn't have even noticed. Thats how drugged I was. They drugged me so much that being sober felt like a new... high so to speak. Im still getting used to not having them run through my system. But I digress.

Alistair wasn't embedded into my own character enough as it was for my subconscious to make anything of his name. It didn't matter that he was my father or not. We just didn't bond like I had hoped for, thus, it didn't faze the back of my mind. Part of me wonders if I even needed MKUltra to carry out his murder in Berlin.

Lazar let me get a feel for the tranq gun outside of the safehouse. I finally got to put to use some of those old wooden crates. But I've alreadly spoken about this. And so you'll beleive what you'll read in the reports from that night. I wish it had happened like that. And most of it did. Mostly...

Febuary 24, 1981

Bell was fairly quiet as he fiddled with the tranq gun. Shooting the darts at the wooden crates and reloading the weapon once more, the process repeated for quite some time. He enjoyed the quiet time. It let him ponder about what Sims talked to him about earlier. Was it that obvious? The entire concept made him cringe. He and Park were strictly just bussiness. Why was that so diffcult. Bussiness he repeated to himself in his head over and over again. His mind could beleive it. But sometimg else gnawed at him. He kept to himself, shooting darts near the side of the safehouse.

He heard the front door open. Pausing, Bell set the darts down on the crate to reload once more. He watched Park light a cigarette as he placed darts into a new mag. Probably stole it from Adler, he thought to himself.

For whatever reason in the very short time he'd been here he found it naturally easier to speak with her rather than any of the other teammates. Perhaps it was because they were from the same country, the same faction. Curious to find out if his feelings and thoughts served him well, he set down the darts and began to approach her.

"What's on your mind?" She asked, her back turned to him.

Bell opened his mouth but nothing came out. Not a single peep.

"I'm not following you, you just left the door open." Lazar replied, shutting it behind him. He held s case in his free hand.

Bell stood still, frightened to move for fear of being seen. They'd think he were eavesdropping. If he had any opportunity to have an impression on his fellow brit, it'd be best to not come across as a creep.

"Sims said your new order just came in. Figured you might want to give a try. Lazar placed the case on the back of Adler's car. Opening it was a beautiful looking, crisp and clean new Tec 9."

"Is that so?" She said curiously, tossing the cigarette away and putting it out with her boot.

"Here's some ammo." He placed extra mags next to the case. They were both silent as she fiddled with the new weapon. "You know theres a good football game Sims found inside. We've still got time if you want to come join us." He checked his watch.

"I'd watch if it was actual football, or soccer" she emphasized in an American accent. "as its called around here."

"Give it a chance, you might become a fan." Lazar laughed. "We've got drinks."

"The beer here is disgusting." She scoffed.

"Sodas...?" he said in a persuasive tone.

She placed the weapon and its contents back in its case before turning and facing him, meeting his gaze. "The good kind?" She asked, her expression a bit stiff.

"Only the best." They both smiled.

Bell saw within those splitest of seconds how they looked at one another.

"Alright Agent Azoulay, I'll take you up on it." A smirk on her face.

The two headed back into the safehouse, leaving Bell outside. He watched them leave. Hearing the door shut behind them, Bell returned to shooting his darts like nothing ever happened. He had a job to do, not desires to entertain.