1981 Berlin
His eyes felt heavy.
"You allowed him to free from your grasp?" Volkov judged.
"I-I don't know how. But I brought him to you." Kraus stammered, slightly raising a defensive hand.
Bell began to open his eyes. He was tied up in a chair, Greta right along side him to his right. A few gaurds surrounded the group but he was sure there were most likely more scattered in the background. There was Volkov and a man right next to him. Alexi Reznov. They stood talking to Kraus.
"That makes this much less unpleasant for you." Alexi said dangerously, a thick Russian accent.
"Perseus has been looking for this one." Volkov slowly turned his head back towards the recovering Bell.
"Then you'll let Perseus know I captured him?"
"I should tell him you nearly lost his prized possession. So we'll call it even and say that we captured him without any inconveinance." Alexi scolded.
"We have Greta Keller as well." Kraus pointed to her. "Her informant didn't give up much before he was eleminated but she must still be worth something."
"Ah, Finally." Volkov heard Bell manuvering in his seat, ignoring Kraus. He was pleased to see the young man awake. He turned the chair around and sat infront of Bell. "Perseus has a large bounty on your head.
"Who doesn't?" Bell scoffed. After all it felt like everyone outside the walls of the safehouse was out to get him. But it was after all part of the job.
"Who do you work for?" Volkov asked.
"I'm a one man show Mr. Wonton." Bell screwed up his name only to aggrivate the man.
"Its Anton, you moron." Volkov punched Bell straight in the mouth, reopening a wound from earlier.
"You know." Bell spit out blood on Volkov's shoes "..you really should treat your guests better." He said with a sly smirk. He held a dramatic pause as if someone where to invade in the moment and rescue him. Bell chuckled. "Your dumbasses fell for it too!" He laughed, seeing them look around.
"Will you shut up already!" Great turned to Bell, afriad of what they might do.
"Don't worry Keller, I got this. I watched James Bond." He gave her an assuring wink.
"What kind of fool are you?" Alexi shouted as Anton shoved his boot into Bell's injured ribs, he winced.
Do you think you will die with dignity here?!" He propped his foot onto the chair between Bell's knees, a pistol visible in his hand. Bell was running out of smart remarkes to say.
"You are damaged goods. Only a grave can cure a hunchback." Volkov looked down on Bell. Bell looked past the man's face to see his friends preparing to rescue him.
"Well then, don't let me beat you to it Wonton." Bell said slyly. At the same time, the glass from above shattered and smoke canisters fell to the floor, creating grey clouds. Bullets flew and Volkov was shot in the arm. He ran into the smoke, pistol in hand and Alexi covering him. Kraus scattered, trying to run but was shot through the chest. He fell, his breifcase in his arms. Gaurds around him were shot immidatly.
He watched as three figures descended on cables from the roof. As they met the floor, they dissapeared from his paripherial vision. He tried to look near his feet to see what was happening.
"Adler!" He shouted only to be ignored.
"Park!" He yelled, seeing her in the smoke taking care of the bad guys. "Mr. Bond, your assitance is requested!" He was tired of being tied up, he could feel circulation cutting off.
Park rushed over to him after placing a few bullets in enemy soldiers. She untied him, helping him to his feet.
"Greatly appreciated." He sighed, pleased to feel his hands and feet again.
"I'll secure the case, get Volkov and Alexi." She handed him an MP5. "And quit calling me that." Bell couldnt tell if she was serious or not.
"You got it 007." He smiled before taking off into the fight, leaving her to help Greta.
"Bell!" Lazar greeted him as Bell took cover beside him. "You look like shit." He laughed, handing Bell a comms peice.
"Its not the first time today I've heard it." He quipped.
The two of them along with Adler and Park advanced towards the back of the building. Bell took the far right, tired of sharing kills with Lazar. He laid waste to the enemies infront of him who were massicared with waves of bullets from his MP5. And all with a grin of pure enjoyment on his face.
One soldier decided to try and flank Bell as he rushed up from behind, hitting Bell in the back of the skull. He stumbled forwards. Quickly regaining his balance, he spun on his heel to open fire only to hear a click from his weapon. He threw the empty MP5 at the soldier's face, charging into him. He ran the man into a large metal shelf causing objects to fall and crash. Bell's fist collided with the side of his temple, disoreinting the man enough to locate and swipe his knife from his hands. He immidiatly shoved the knife into the enemy's collar bone and stabbing him repeatedly before the body went limp.
Just as he did another rushed in from behind, tackeling him to the ground. His knife slid a gew inches across the floor from where he fell. He hit the back of his head hard on the concrete surface, making him disoriented temporarily. His vision blurred with his own blood as fists came hammering down onto his face and on the sides of his skull. Becoming enraged, Bell grabbed the man and headbutt him before manuvering his way from a bad position and into an advantageous one. He leapt up and dove towards the fallen blade. From his hand it instantly flew between the enemy's eyes, tallying another kill for Bell. He wiped the blood trickeling down from his nose and other cuts as he fell to his back, catching his breathe. His body reminded him of the events of the past few hours.
He kept his eyes on the ceiling far above him.
"Has anyone found Reznov yet?" Adler asked through his ear peice.
"Negative." Bell replied as well as the others.
A figure walked into his sight, towering over him, pistol in hand, aiming for Bell. Alexi.
"Well, if only you would have been standing there a few seconds ago." Bell panted. The man looked to be between Adler and Volkov's age. His hair was a mix of grey and brown.
They paused there, staring at one another. "If I were you I'd go ahead and use that pistol before it ends up in my hands, it is quite a beautiful looking weapon." Bell glared at the pistol.
"It's a Redeemer. Looted it off a Nazi from the war." Alistair said plainly.
"A Redeemer..." Bell said almost in awe.
"They told me you were killed." Alistair pulled back the hammer of the weapon. "What have they done to you?" He asked, hearing his son's accent had been replaced with a light British one.
Bell grew tired of talking, he planted his knife through Alistair's foot, causing the man to scream in pain. He fired a bullet that nearly landed in Bell's thigh as it penetrated the concrete beside him.
The two switched places, as Bell swept the man off his feet. He caught the pistol that slipped from Alistair's grasp. "Heavier than what I've imagined." Bell moved the weapon up and down in his palm. He knelt down beside him, aiming the weapon at his chin.
"You know I once had a son. He looked just like you." The man smiled.
"You miss him... don't you?" Bell sounded his false sympathy.
"Very much." Alistair hoped that he was getting theough to him.
"Old fool" Bell chuckled. He leaned down for the man to hear him more clearly.
"What did they do to you?" Alistair demanded.
"I don't even know you." Bell spat. "Pitty to the poor fool that was your son." A grim smile grew across his face. He leaned close towards the mans ear for him to hear him clearly. "You want to see your son? Give the boy my condolences for having a coward like yourself as a parent." Bell stood to his feet.
There was fear in Alistair's eyes. Unfortunate for Bell, he was totally oblivious to the real truth behind it. He beleived it was because most if not all of the peoples hes killed in the past were always afraid to die. They didn't want to lose everything they had worked so hard for. They didn't want to die with regret.
Through gritted teeth he fired two bullets into Alistair's chest. In the man's final seconds Bell couldn't help but feel something oddly familair about the man. He stepped over the body with a furrowed brow.
"Team. Alexi's been taken care of." Bell informed the others.
"Good job, Bell." Adler responded.
The team advanced until the men began to look fewer and fewer in numbers.
"Bell, Volkov went through there. Take him out!" Adler pointed to the open door infront of them.
"He's more valuable alive, Bell. Don't kill him!" Park said into his ear peice.
He could feel the tension between the two agents. Of course they would weigh the decision all on him. Of course he would be put in the middle of their disputes.
He ran into the room, a canister bouncing off of the wall, temporarily concussing him. Two final soldiers ran around the corner. Bell put a bullet in each of them with his new pistol. Unlike most pistols, this one had so much force, it threw its enemy's back. He looked at the pistol, impressed with its speed and power.
"Volkov." Bell growled, seeing the man around the corner.
"So here we are. You and I." He held himself up against the metal door, holding his injured arm.
Bell aimed is weapon at Volkov. His body froze. His finger hovered over the trigger but he was unable to fire the bullet. He tried again. A failed attempt. He let out a frustrated shout, pacing back and forth with his pistol still aimed at Volkov. There was no pleasing both of his teammates. Someone was going to not be happy with tonight's end result. The better question is, who would handle it best?
"Go ahead, take me out. It's what your good at, is it not?" He toyed with Bell.
He put his pistol away, retreiving the tranq gun he never got to use. "Old fool. MI6 will deal with you themselves." He fired the dart into Anton's chest, putting him into an unconsciouss state. Bell tucked the gun into his belt and limped over to Volkov. It was a dumb idea to try and carry the old man when he was the one with the imjured ribs. He set him back down for Lazar to deal with.
His three teammeated rounded the corner. "At last. Bell, on behalf of MI6... thank you." Park said gratefully. "Volkov is ours."
"More than he deserves." Alder commented. Bell could feel his slight frustration.
"Lazar get Volkov. Let's get the hell out of East Berlin." Bell didn't even try to hide his exhaustion in his voice.
CIA Safehouse
West Berlin
1981
Bell took a seat at Lazar's work station as he and Park fetched medical supplies.
"Damn, Bell." Lazar put alcohol on his various wounds.
"Well you know how it is. It's not fun if they don't hit back." Bell winced.
"These ones certainly did hit back." Park wrapped medical tape around his torso. "Quit moving so much, we still have to put stitches in the back of your head. It's all bloody."
His adrenaline was wearing off. He placed two fingers and searched until he felt a sharp pain. He grimaced, seeing his fingers covered in sticky blood.
"What wasn't beleivable, the part about half of your skull being matted in blood or the fact that you still even have a head on your shoulders?" She jabbed.
"I wouldn't mind laughing with you." He replied, wincing in pain at the stitches going into his head.
"Your lucky none of this stuff cut any deeper than it did." Lazar was working on pulling shrapnel from his skin.
By the time they finished tending to Bell, he was halfway asleep.
"Lazar, go get the dosage ready." Park told him. She helped Bell to his feet, escorting him to his room where she laid him im his bed.
"Just one, right?" Lazar asked, bringing a syringe into the room.
"Yes, thank you." Lazar handed it over. "Tell Adler I'll be out in a moment."
"Of course." He nodded before closing Bell's door.
She turned her attention back to the young man who was uttering mumblings, his eyes shut.
"Bell." She tried to bring him back to reality.
He opened his eyes, studying the room before turning his attention back to her.
"Its you." He smiled before he frowned. "Why does nobody ever call me by my real name?" He sat up. "Park." He began to panick some. "I can't remember my name!" He panted.
"Bell. Calm down." She reached for his hand. "Remember those breathing exercises we practiced." She breathed in and out, Bell following her lead.
He found it odd. He didn't remember doing them very well but it felt like riding a bike, like he hadn't missed a step. He was so transfixed on breathing he didn't even pay attention to the needle that went into his neck. He felt sleept again. He didn't want to sleep. Not now. Not when he had questions. He felt himself falling back onto his pillow.
"Don't fight it Daniel. Sleep, we'll be here when you wake up." Her voice soothed him. He felt himself slipping until he couldn't hold his eyes open any longer.