#bo:cw

[cryptidvaquero]

hey, you, out there on the road, always doing what you're told, can you help me?

[grave-robber-grim]

Spreading the gospel (convincing my bro to get BO:CW)

[quizzyisdone]

The Colour Red (Pt. II) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: Bad Moon Risin' Word Count: 3.7k Pairing: Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Masterlist Synopsis: Bell and Adler arrive at the safehouse in West Germany, where she meets the rest of her team, save Alex Mason and Frank Woods. The team gets down to business -- they've all gathered to take down the elusive Perseus, the infamous soviet agent whom they know next to nothing about, save for that he's planning something big. That much, Adler is sure of. To figure out their next move, Adler and Park use a memory recollection technique to help Bell recall Operation: Fracture Jaw, yet another memory Bell had lost due to her head injury two months prior. A/N: Hey! I'm back, totally not inspired by the new Black Ops VI trailer at all. Like, at all. Anyways, here is the next installment of my personal favorite series, The Colour Red. Keep in mind this is a slowburn fic, and sorry about the lack of Hudson in this chapter. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Strong language, mentions of weapons, canon-typical violence.

**Title inspired by "Bad Moon Risin'" by Credence Clearwater Revival

[Part One] [Part Two]

You don't need to read part one to understand this chapter, btw

The car halted to a full stop as Bell fluttered open her eyes, Adler lightly shook her shoulder, stirring her even further awake. 

“Bell. Welcome to West Berlin” He gave a half-hearted smile, a cigarette between his teeth. Bell groggily roused herself from the passenger seat, watching Adler closely as he held the lighter close to his face, letting a puff of smoke blow back in the wind behind him.

The light from the flame illuminated the scarred half of his face, and she could see that where he had shaven was uneven and choppy, a stark contrast to the close shave on the “normal” side of his face. Still rather handsome, barring his scars. He had a classically attractive, well structured face, resembling that of movie stars such as Robert Redford. Blonde hair, blue eyes and very charismatic. He must have many women wrapped around his finger back in the states, Bell presumed.

Adler took one last glance at her, then began to approach a woman that was leaning against an old, worn garage door. Bell took in her features as well. 

She had an uncanny familiarity about her. She had silky, jet black hair cut and styled into a practical bob, unusually tall but athletically built, and she sported pragmatic yet stylish clothing. She had delicate, feminine features but still yet appeared to be able to keep up with the likes of a black ops legend such as Adler -- a strange dichotomy between graceful and deadly. 

Adler had told Bell that she was a legend in her own rite at MI6, that’s why he had requested her for the op. Apparently, it was true that while she was known for her lethality and pretty appearance, it was her brain, not the obvious honey trap she is, that he was interested in. Adler had joked several times that she was a walking cliche, a classic femme fatale type.  

The more Bell seemed to take in her appearance, her shattered memory would begin to piece itself together again. Her face. A red door. A jungle. Sterile white lights. Televisions. War footage. Then nothing. Whenever she was on the precipice of piecing her memory back together, it seemed it would shatter again.

Adler glanced back. “You comin’?” He said with a slight frown. Sheepishly, Bell nodded, not having realized she spent too much time what would appear to the others as staring into space for no apparent reason. 

Bell hurried to catch up with him, trailing behind Adler closely even as the oddly familiar, yet bitter scent of tobacco filled her nose. That closeness, she wondered, it may be obvious to Adler, which she could live with, but would it escape the notice of the others? She hated that, her clinginess to him, but it made some sense (at least that is how Bell would justify it) -- Adler was the only kind face she could remember after her fall. 

Although she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred to be close to him at all times. His presence was comforting, the anxiety she felt would fade away in an instant -- she could almost forget that she couldn’t remember. One might mistake the connection for romantic, as Hudson, their handler had pointed out rather astutely (and irritably) before they departed from Langley today.

 Bell couldn't help but notice the parallels either, he very much played the part of her knight in shining armor, saving her from sure death, never having left her side while she healed, gently guiding her as she navigated regaining her lost memory. Although she must admit she has lingered on such an idea, Bell recognized Adler very likely felt no such way towards her.

She knew his feelings towards her. They had been through hell and back together, saved each other's ass, and understood each other like no one else. Bell knew where she stood, something more than a friend but less than a lover. It was a strange, blurry purgatory between platonic affection and passionate love.  

He had helped her remember the basics. With his guidance, she now knew that her name was Anabelle Meyers, hence the name “Bell”. She was a cryptographer and a linguist working for MI6, she had spent the better part of a year in Vietnam with Adler when she began working a joint operation with MACV-SOG and MI6 and they’ve been friends for 13 years. Two months ago, on a solo operation, she had taken a long, hard fall, hitting her head. Bell would've died if Adler hadn't been there by random chance. Bell could recall that in perfect detail now, although it was fuzzy just a week ago. 

“Park.” He acknowledged and nodded towards her. He glanced back, noticing how Bell followed so closely behind him and smiled to himself. It gave him some kind of pride that she leaned on him as a protector of sorts. 

“She looks familiar.” Bell whispered as soon as they were out of earshot of Park. 

Adler stopped in his tracks for naught but a second, “Maybe you saw her at the Century House in London back in the day.” She knew that it wasn’t likely they had never been acquainted, nor ever having even met each other, but Bell let the conversation go -- chalking it up as some kind of weird deja vu nonsense. 

When the door opened it revealed a large warehouse-like room with a table set in the middle, a bulletin board with the face of man that was supposedly Perseus and a giant red circle around it (Bell quickly noticed how the picture gave her an uneasy pit in her stomach and her head would begin to hurt), an array of weapons upon a wall guarded by chain link fence with a lock, and all the other stereotypical features befitting a CIA safehouse. 

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Adler whispered to Bell as he approached the gathering of folks around the table set in the middle. “Bell, this is Helen Park, Lawrence Sims who you’ve already met, and Eleazar Azoulay. We just call him Lazar, though.” He introduced her to them.

Lazar gave her a friendly but quiet hello, Park nodded, and Sims simply stared daggers at her before turning his gaze back to Adler. “Mason and Woods are finishing some business in Kiev, but you’ll meet them later.”

“Do I know them?” Bell asked meekly and Park cocked an eyebrow, smirking to herself as she glanced at Adler, silently beckoning him to answer the question. 

“Ah,” Adler chuckled lightly. “No, you know them by reputation, but not, ah, personally.” Bell nodded in response before letting him continue. He turned back to the rest of the group, while Bell stood snug behind Adler. “There’s been a surge in Russian chatter for the past 48 hours. The CIA and DoD are tapping their inside sources for anything substantial, but no leads of Perseus so far.”

“MI6 has come up empty handed as well.” Park added.

“We’ll have to start somewhere, so we’re going back to 1968, Vietnam.” He strode towards to the bulletin board, pointing at a polaroid picture of Sims and Adler sitting side by side, labeled Operation Fracture Jaw. “One our closest encounters with Perseus. Bell, you don’t remember this, of course, but you were there.”

“Fracture Jaw, what a steaming pile of shit that one was.” Sims grumbled.

“Also the first time where Perseus pinged our radar. While you were on the ground, you dug up some intel on him.” Adler continued, he held a folder with a dried, bloody handprint and Cyrillic printed on the front. “We’re gonna help jog your memory so you can crack this. At the time, the CIA’s best analysts couldn’t decode that thing, but we’re gonna have you take a shot.” Adler placed his hand on Bell’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Yeah.” Sims scoffed. “If even Weaver couldn’t crack it, what makes you think she can?” He had said it with such venom, such doubt that it made Bell wonder what had happened between them. She made a mental note to ask Adler about it later, but for the moment, she hardened her gaze, attempting to make herself seem less vulnerable than she truly felt.

“It can’t hurt, Sims. She’s always been one of the best, you know that.” Adler said pointedly. “Anyways, we’re gonna use a hypnosis technique. While our little Bell will be in a hypnotic state, I will be reading the operation report, retelling every detail of what happened when she and you were boots on ground. Theoretically, she should remember it all and be able to decode it.”

Sims shrugged, Park and Lazar nodded in affirmation. The group disbanded wordlessly, Park headed over to the computer by the gun rack with Lazar trailing behind and Sims went over the gate that locked the chain link fence. That had left her and Adler, as he lit another cigarette (his fourth in the last couple of hours, Bell noted) and sat at a chair in front of the evidence board. 

He stared quietly at it, his mouth was set in a frown but his sunglasses had made it impossible to even begin to guess what the man was thinking. 

“Adler,” Bell spoke quietly, tapping his shoulder. Adler smiled ever so slightly, the small gesture was a welcome change from Sims’ behavior just a moment ago. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything, kid.” He said coolly, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“That memory exercise we’re doing, we can use it to recover some of my memories?” A glint of hope appeared in her chestnut eyes.

He chuckled, low and husky. “Ain’t that exactly what we’re doing, Bell?” She rolled her eyes but gave a small laugh in return.

“You know what I mean. Like, the memories that aren’t from war or anything like that. Something a bit happier.”

Adler grimaced then sighed, ashing his cigarette and sitting up straighter, and the small smile that appeared on Bell’s face vanished, like she knew he was about to tell her some unfortunate news. The pair sat in an awkward silence as Adler thought about how to break it to her.

“We can’t really.” He reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze before pulling away. “The memory exercise only works when you have either one or two things; a written documentation of a memory that we can actually get our hands on or someone who was also there that can recall the memory and tell it to ya.”

“Oh.”

“When we found you, you didn’t have a journal or anything on you. Not even dog tags. No one would have been able to identify you if I wasn’t there.” He pursed his lips, offering a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, Bell.”

“Well I mean, we’ve been friends for a while. What do you know about me? Anything about my family?” The hopefulness had returned to Bell’s eyes, and Adler could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought deeply. 

“Uh, well,” He cleared his throat. “You never spoke anything of them really, it seemed a sore spot for ya so none of us ever really pried.” She glanced down, looking utterly defeated as she sniffled. Adler tried to lighten the conversation at least a little. This wasn’t the place nor the time. “I know that you used to have a nicotine addiction worse than me.”

Bell chuckled. “I still crave them all the time.”

Adler chuckled, clapping her shoulder. “Tell you what,” He said, reaching into his pocket to grab his cigarettes. He handed one to her and she placed it between her teeth, giggling a little as he lit it for her. “I think you deserve at least one. Old habits die hard.” She took a drag, blowing a playful ‘O’ into his face. “Atta girl. I’ll get you a pack tomorrow.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason.” She smiled, the first genuine smile Adler had ever seen out of the woman.

“I’ve always been an enabler of your bad habits.” 

__

January 26th, 1968

Camp Haskins, South Vietnam

0700

“Bell, time to wake up” A raspy voice had startled her awake, the boot of the offender shaking the fold up chair she had practically passed out in. She groggily opened her eyes to find her new teammate with a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s crank time.” 

“I’m up” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. He swiped the chair back to the ground where Bell had been leaning, causing the legs to harshly meet the floor and she nearly fell forward. The man chuckled lightly.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, you knew we were doing this.”

“Yeah, I know.” The exhaustion was still evident in her voice as she rose from the chair, grabbing the M16 she had left leaning against the wall. She followed behind him, taking in the scene around her as she left the tent, the morning sun already beating against her skin.

It hadn’t been her first choice, being assigned as an agent working boots on ground with MACV-SOG, and it certainly wasn’t her first choice to be placed in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Vietnam. Her work was typically confined to that of a desk in an office, in the comfort of air conditioning and without the threat of an enemy attack at a moment’s notice. However, given her limited but notable military work, her handler thought she would be wasted back home in the comfort of an office in London. 

Her handler was of course right, but she wished he wasn’t as the stench of gunsmoke, gasoline, and body odor filled her nose. She watched about a dozen shirtless, grimy men going about their business. Most had simply ignored her, but a few had leered at her as she passed by, perhaps bedazzled by the first clean and somewhat attractive thing they had probably seen with their own eyes in months, Bell cockily mused to herself. 

“Camp Haskins, what a sausage fest.” Bell said quietly, chuckling.

“I heard that.” Adler yelled back good naturedly, and Bell half walked, half jogged to catch up with him. “You should be thankful, this place is a fuckin’ oasis compared to the shitstorm out there. Those boys keep it that way.”

“Yeah, yeah ‘God bless our troops’ and all that shit they keep telling us.” She jabbed Adler’s arm and he laughed softly. 

“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but your handler could’ve done worse for you.” They approached the landing zone, her other new teammate, and Adler’s best friend, she had determined based on their interactions, sat on the ledge of a helicopter ready and waiting for them. 

“Finally found Bell?” He hollered out over the sound of the whirling blades of the craft, without looking up from the magazine he was reading. Lawrence Sims was his name, he had dark skin with large, almost doe-like black eyes to match. He wasn’t a looker, but he had a friendly, jovial feel about him. Adler approached him, snatched the magazine from his hand to take a lingering glance at the lewd picture within. 

“That shit’s gonna make you go blind, Sims.”  He threw the magazine back at Sims as Bell loaded herself in. 

“That’s why I want it all right up here.” He replied jokingly, pointing his finger to his temple and shooting a playful, friendly wink at Bell.

“You’re not helping Bell’s accusation that this place is a sausage fest.”

“I’d say she’s made an astute observation, then.” Sims clapped his hand on her shoulder. She returned their grin. However, as the pilots began to load in, the mood shifted dramatically with it, like someone had sucked all the humor out of the situation and brought them back to the real world. Adler took this as his cue. 

“We got a new assignment. FOB 4 Ripcord is holding a vital asset that Charlie wants real bad.” He shouted over the deafening sound. 

“What kinda asset we talking about?” Sims asked. 

“The kind you don't ask about. Ripcord has been taking a hell of a beating, so it's our job to secure the asset and get the fuck out.” Bell began to stiffen and her palms began to sweat inexplicably, which Adler seemed to take notice of. “Relax. We got fast fliers providing combat air support for this mission. It'll be a walk in the park.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She said, putting on her headset as Adler took his leave. He climbed in the helicopter just opposite of them, and with that, about half the armada began to lift off. The chatter rang loud through the headset.

“Badger-niner-one good to go.”

“Badger-niner-two clear to go.”

“Badger-niner-three rotors up.”

Sims shuffled a bit, pulling a cassette tape from his pocket. “You like music?” He asked. Bell nodded, a lump beginning to form in her throat. “Good because I was gonna play it anyways.” He inserted the tape into the helicopter’s radio. He bobbed his head to the beat, singing to himself. His voice sounded muffled, the chatter over the radio began to sound more distant and then eventually, nonexistent. The only sound she could truly make out was the lyrics to the song Sims had played.

I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today

She felt sick, nauseous, the sound of the music only worsening the deep pit that began to build in her stomach, she began to sweat, hyperventilate, her vision became blurry, all the colors merging with the blinding light of the rising sun until-

__

Present Day

“Shit.” An indiscernible voice cursed, and with that, she felt a sharp jab on some unidentifiable place on her body and all faded into darkness again.

__

January 12th, 1968

“You all sitting comfortably?” Adler’s voice quirked up over the radio.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell us some bad news?” Bell quipped, noting how her palms were no longer sweaty the way they were just a second ago, calm had overcome her senses once more as she glanced around her. No one seemed to notice her little episode. Good.

“Because you’re a smart girl, Bell. But the news isn't bad. In fact it could be very, very good. The asset at Ripcord is gonna have to wait a little while. We're breaking off from the armada. Taking a detour.” 

Sims raised his eyebrows at this new development. “And... that's good because?”

“A source tipped us off that there may be a heavy hitter from town, a Soviet operative known as Perseus.” 

Bell’s head began to hurt again, the pain teetering on intolerable but she attempted to ignore it for the moment. However, the pain seemed to get worse and worse the more she tried not to think about it, and once again, her vision became blurry and all colors became one again.

“First time Perseus pinged our radar…”

__

Present Day

Bell found herself back in bed, the overhead light shining directly into her eyes again with a pounding headache to boot. She tentatively lifted her head and rolled onto her side, confused as to how she even ended up here. One moment, she was smoking with Adler and the next she was here. 

“Oh God…” She groaned painfully, grabbing the water bottle that had been left on the table adjacent to her bed, gulping down nearly half the bottle in one go. 

After she had come to, she began to hear the muffled voices from outside the door, although most of what they were saying was unintelligible, she managed to make out some words and phrases.

“...too much…”

“...resistance…try again soon” 

“...need something to…won’t be happy…” 

Bell couldn’t make out anymore, and the pounding in her skull overpowered her curiosity and she laid back down. She closed her eyes, yearning to let sleep take over her body once more when the door opened, Park and Adler walked in, both staring at her.

Adler’s eyes were of course, unreadable through his signature sunglasses but his expression was set into that of frustration, while Park’s seemed more confused than anything, her brow furrowed as if she was working out some complicated problem in her head.

“How are you feeling, Bell?” Park asked clinically. 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” She whined, Park nodded in assent as she scribbled something in a notebook.

“That’s to be expected.” Park replied, not looking up from what she was writing. Adler cleared his throat as he sat at the foot of the bed, beckoning Park to put the pen down. “Forgive me, I’ve just been documenting the recovery of your memories.” She smiled. “I have a vested interest in your case, seeing as the methods we are using to help you remember are relatively new and-”

“Cut to the chase, Park.” Adler interrupted, and Park sighed in frustration at his impatience. 

“The exercise we attempted tonight wasn’t as successful as we had hoped.” Park explained, reaching into her pocket to hand Bell two blue-colored pills. “For your head, love. You had some kind of reaction at the mention of Perseus during recollection that disrupted the hypnotic state. Pitiful thing, really. Your subconscious must have fairly negative feelings regarding your time spent with Adler in Vietnam.”

“That makes two of us, Bell.” Adler commented, the distaste evident in his tone as he stared off. “Not my favorite time to remember either.”

“Well, I do believe recollection can still be therapeutic for Bell and is essential to the task at hand. Get some sleep Bell, we’ll pick up where we left off in the morning,”  Park gave a courteous smile and left the small, sorry excuse for a room, closing the door behind her. Silence hung in the air for a moment as Bell and Adler were left alone.

“I’m counting on you, Bell. Get some good sleep, need ya sharp for this.” Adler broke the silence, standing from where he sat and heading for the door as well. As he turned the handle, he looked back towards Bell. “Remember, we’ve got a job to do.”

As she fell back asleep, the lyrics for the rest of that song tauntingly played again and again in her head. 

Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye

Tags: @mayasnowforest @kult6 -- I know you guys asked to be tagged like two years ago, but here y'all are <3

[sillygoose343]

Adler: Can you please let Phillip listen to something other than DJ Blyatman Bell: Can you KILL YOURSELF

[iamsenfen]

Cold War: Remedy, Chapter 15

A/N: Serena and Adler have a conversation...

wow I’m sorry for being gone even longer than I was before. Can’t promise it wont happen again but I will do my best :p

June 11, 1984

9:14 A.M.

For a long time, Safehouse E9 was the only home you'd ever known. Coming through the rolling door into that still familiar atmosphere of fluorescent lighting shining down on the almost visible aromas of second-hand smoke and image developing chemicals would have probably made you incredibly nostalgic, if it wasn't for your stinging left shoulder with a bullet wound in it. Somewhere during the mission you'd gotten tagged, but with all the adrenaline you didn't even feel it at first. It wasn't until Park pointed out your bleeding shoulder in the helicopter that it suddenly started to ache. The team field dressed it before it could become anything serious, and when you all arrived at the safehouse all it needed was stitching.

Park volunteered to suture you while everyone else crowded around Adler on the same gurney that he laid you on for that mind-hell in the office, mending his various wounds that he'd garnered over his time in captivity. It wasn't exactly the same situation, but you couldn't help but feel a little smug watching. After you'd been stitched, all that the wound called for was bed rest, with the occasional change of bandages. 

Your bedroom hadn't changed in the slightest since you left. You felt exhausted as you crawled into bed, but sleep doesn't come as easy as you would hope, the question of "what next" still bouncing around in your mind, refusing to give you any respite. It must've been another hour before you finally drift out of consciousness. 

You were the first one to wake up, surprisingly well rested. Dragging yourself out of bed, there was only one thing on your mind: cigarette. You meandered your way into the main room, looking around for a pack and a lighter. Lucky for you, there was one of each on the center table. Whoever they belonged to, they probably wouldn't mind. Taking a seat on the table itself, you grabbed a cig, looking down as you were lighting it. 

Just as you got it aflame, you heard someone else coming into the room. "Sorry if these are yours," you spoke to whoever it was without looking up, "but I needed-" as you finally glanced up, you were met with an ever intense, icy blue gaze. It was strange, he looked almost unrecognizable without his sunglasses.

"Oh. You." Bitterness poured from your mouth with the smoke.

Adler slowly trudged his way over to you, looking like death. You turned your head back down. It wasn't distressing to look at or anything, you just didn't want to make eye contact with him right now. "Mind if I borrow one of those?" He gestured to the pack. "They're not mine, have at it." You tossed the lighter down on the table. You could feel him glaring at you for a few seconds before lighting his own cig, leaning against the table as he took a drag.

It stayed silent for far longer than you were comfortable with. The only thing that kept you quiet was the fact that the talking would be worse. Adler wasn't troubled by such matters. "What're you doing back here, Bell?" He sounded more concerned than he probably actually was. "Hunting Perseus." You spat bluntly. "You don't owe us that anymore." That got you to look him in the eye, if only out of anger. "No, I owe the rest of the world that. Not everything is about you." He had no response. You stared him down for a few more seconds before disengaging, taking another drag as you stared at the floor.

"I just figured you'd never wanna see us again." He spoke as he gazed into the distance. "Oh I'm fine with everyone else. It's the seeing you part that's the problem." "Is that right?" He turned his head to look at you. "Because from what I hear, you put yourself through the ringer more than anyone else here while looking for me." You whipped your head to face him, face full of surprise. Who the fuck told him? "You know, I heard you that day at the mall. Your mic was hot the whole time." Damn it. "I thought I was going crazy. But then I see you, stumbling around a corner with a broken leg, yelling at Stitch to get away from me." His voice was coated with smugness.

You simply took another drag in response, avoiding eye contact. "Not only that," You began to cringe. How much had he been told? "Then you disobey direct orders from Hudson to stay here, and fly off with the others to Laos?" Remembering it even now made you smirk. "Sure did." Your eyes met for a second. 

He paused for a moment before carrying on. "And when that didn't work out, you torture a guy with lye to get him-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, what's your point?" You sternly cut him off, jumping off the table and turning to stare him down. He hesitated for a moment. He looked…perturbed. Your glare inflamed. "Point is, it doesn't seem like you're fine with me not being here, Bell." You wanted to put up an argument, but the evidence he presented was pretty damning.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, sighing deeply. Tilting it back down, your eyes met his. "You and I have a lot of shit to work out. You took my memories, my entire old life from me and I will never stop resenting you for that. But I don't know anyone else capable of leading the hunt against the much larger threat at play. Whatever we have going on between us, believe it or not, I don't want you dead." He took a drag as he listened to you, tapping his cig over the floor as he exhaled. "You left something out there." He pointed out, with what seemed like intrigue. Did it really need saying out loud?

Your eyes closed and you took an extensive pause. "You shot me." Your voice mumbled. "I did everything you asked of me, helped you every way that I could, put every ounce of my trust into you, and you shot me." Your eyes opened and met his gaze. "Why?"

You looked into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Everything was still, his face pensive and your eyes starting to sting. Eventually he broke contact, throwing his unlit cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. He turned to you again, looking the most somber you'd ever seen him. 

"I was afraid."

Your mouth slowly dropped as your eyebrows raised. "Run that by me again?" You hissed with your head cocked to one side. "You kidnap me, torture me, erase my memories, try to kill me, and you're the one afraid?" His only reply was to look you straight in the eyes, lips pursed. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve." Your voice shook as you began to cackle involuntarily. "Please explain how you, 'America's Monster', were afraid of me."

Now he broke eye contact, opting to look at the floor. "I didn't know what was next to come. I thought that you would try to kill me after what we'd done to you. I was surprised you didn't pull a gun on me until the moment I pulled mine." Your body was shaking as you hovered next to him, taking in what he said. "I never would've tried. Even after everything…I never would." You assuredly croaked, like it made a difference now. He still wouldn't look up at you. "I tried convincing myself that the orders would come down from the CIA to terminate you regardless, that you knew too much for everyone else's good." He took a lengthy pause. "I was scared of going against them. The CIA makes your life very difficult if you get in their way." At last, he looked up at you. "I wasn't strong enough to do that."

Gingerly, you took a seat next to him. "I've been a problem for the CIA from the start, that never stopped me from getting in their way again and again." You spoke into the distance. "That's what's special about you." Your eyes met once more. "I've never met anyone else with so much will. To fight, to live, to do what you think is right. And I shouldn't have tried to destroy that. Shooting you was the worst mistake of my life." He tenderly put his hand over yours, looking as deeply as he could into your soul. "I'm sorry, Bell." 

You could see it in his eyes. He must wear his glasses to avoid showing any kind of sincere emotion, a tool of the job, but his sincerity was on full display now, and it was shattering. Tears began to slowly roll down your face. You didn't know of any other way to react to what he was telling you. He gently moved his hands to your face, wiping tears with his thumbs. New tears kept coming and he continued wiping your face anew. You weren't sure how long you both stayed like that, all you knew was that you could've stayed like that forever.

Eventually the tears stop flowing, and you mop up the remainder with your arm. "It's Serena now, actually." You murmured into his eyes. They instantly lit up with recognition. "So you got around to reading the personnel file we made, huh?" He grinned. "Not exactly, I just asked Park if I was ever given another name." You reached for the box of cigarettes and lighter again. "Which, you owe me a new last name." You half chuckled, voice full of rasp. "I don't know where you got Bailey from, but it doesn't fit me at all." He looked away for a moment, staring into space. "How about Lynch?" He proposed as you lit another cig. 

That…sounded perfect, actually. Your eyes widened a bit. "I haven't been able to come up with any decent names in two months, you thought that up just now?" He just shrugged noncommittally. You scoffed as you exhaled your drag. "Okay, Speedy, you got a middle name to go with that?" He looked into the distance again. A couple seconds later; "Cahill." 

Serena Cahill Lynch. You sounded it out to yourself…it sounded fantastic. It sounded like you. You gave Russell an appraising nod as you took another drag. He pushed himself to stand with a grunt. "Alright, I think that's enough sap for one day. We still got a…we've got things to do." He caught himself as he walked off. Smoke rushed out of your nose as you mused on what exactly happened to the old, stiff, emotional block of wood Russell Adler you used to know. Not that you minded. Maybe Stitch brainwashed him into being not a total asshole. You grinned at the thought as you got up and followed him towards the next step in finding Perseus.

[pixelated-prostitute]

 I read @incorrect-coldwar ‘s Adler hcs yesterday and thought the pie stand one was so cute! I am by no means any good at digital art, but I h a d to try and draw this! 

Here’s the inspo post!

[actuallyilya]

Black-Ops Characters I believe would have cats and/or dogs. Also, these are just the Campaign characters + some Warsaw pack characters!!

Dog Only

Lazar, Lazar gives off big cuddly dude vibes™ meaning he would want a pet he could bond with better. Dogs are (usually) very playful and loving. He also CONSTANTLY attracts dogs. I also think he would adopt a Golden Retriever. Idk. Vibes™

Sims, Sims seems like the type of guy who likes being outdoors. Parks, hiking, jogging, etc. So he would 100% rather have a buddy to do those hobbies with, rather than go alone. A bit into his childhood, he had another dog he grew up with from the age of 12 and up, but once he left for school/the CIA, he felt bad, and eventually, the dog died of old age :(. But I do think that he loved that dog very much and no dog would ever come close to the memories he had with him. I think he would adopt a Border Collie.

Woods, Look this mother fucker DISPISES cats. He thinks they're gremlins and refuses to ever pet one he hasn't had a bad experience, just doesn't like them, claims that 'they're satan's little bitches'. He also would rather have a pet that you can call do cuddle, rather than hope not to get scratched. He either would have a German Shepherd or Great Dane. He wants a dog that will make him seem cool 🥶😈 but everyone knows that man is a sweetheart.

Hudson, He is most definitely a dog person, He does not care about the dogs are better than cats argument. 'It's an idiotic argument, Besides, we all know dogs are better'. His dog is a family dog, she's very friendly to anyone who comes by Woods, Mason, etc and she loves his kids. At first, Hudson hated the idea of having a dog, it would be a liability, but he was the first person who genuinely fell in love with the dog. He would have a German Shepard, who is military trained because he wants to protect his family.

Knight, Look, with the very little of the information we know about him, I GENUINELY think this man would have a dog. We know he's a little on the bad side, but still, he needs some friends. Even if the friend is a dog. He would probably adopt a Kangel Shepard. Also, he loves to play with his dog very often and is super protective of the dog.

Okay, now to the people who would have cats!

Park, Look, Park is like those people who sit in front of a window with a computer/notes in front of her while her cat calmly sits in front of her sleeping or sunbathing. Okay? I love her to pieces and I know damn well she would get along better with cats than dogs. She has actually argued with Woods about it a lot. She would also have a Chartreux

"Suck it Park! Dogs are the best pets, they won't kill ya in your sleep!"

"Woods, Cats' cleanliness makes up for more than a few scratches here and there, unlike dogs who like to sit in their own filth."

Mason enjoys silence, dogs do not give silence, they are loud and he prefers cats overall, He has had his cat for a while, a few years before David joined the military, his home felt empty, He knew he had always been rough on Mason but the cat gave them a small bonding experience, Although he loved the cat, it caused an argument between him and woods (It wasn't an end-the-friendship argument but when they're drunk they definitely argue) He would have a Birman, he also heavily enjoys cuddling with a cat.

Wraith, She strikes me as those people who genuinely love working with cats or at shelters, maybe she had a cat growing up, maybe she worked at a shelter before she went all Warsaw pact. But regardless, knowing she can't stay in one place forever, she still tries to still somewhat work at shelters, she isn't open about it because it caused an agreement between her and Knight. However, he always had a friend tag along with her while going to the shelters. She wouldn't own any pets, but her favorite breed would be Burmese cats "their fur is a black as my soul"

Stitch, This guy just loves cats, As a young kid, he didn't really have many friends, he usually kept to himself, as a result, he would wander areas a lot, during one of his walks, he found an injured cat, He nursed the cat back to health and kind-of kept this side of himself a secret as his father was very 'men do the work while women stay at home' luckily it never rubbed off on him. However, Just like Wraith, he tagged along to the shelters, he didn't wear the gas mask, but a lot of his scars showed, but he found out the cats/kittens were less scared of him if he just showed his face. Although he has an edgy feel, he loves Maine coons, they are very gentle, friendly, and very intelligent (As you can see, you can tell who is my favorite Warsaw pact operator)

Who would have BOTH cats and dogs.

Adler, look this motherfucker does not want to admit that he loves both cats or dogs. He easily gets attached to animals, cats, dogs, the whole sha-bang. So either/or, He loves dogs because he enjoys working with them, such as training, jogging, etc. (Sims stopped going running with him after Sims adopted his dog, but Adler knew he couldn't be responsible for a dog knowing he's always out on missions). But he also loves cats, he loves how majestic they are, when they purr, kneed, etc. He loves it. He occasionally invites himself to Park's house to spend time with her cat, not even with her. Park doesn't mind as she knows she now has a free cat-sitter. If Adler could, He would have a Great Dane and for a cat, he would have a Bengal Cat

Naga, Over the course of his life, Naga has worked with tons of dogs. He had always appreciated them helping him in his line of work. Whether they helped him weed out a rat amongst his men, or helped make sure no one was stealing profit, I think he heavily enjoys their company. Naga has always been a little intimidating, But with a cat by his side, even more, on his lap, on his desk, such a tiny animal had so much subtle power. If the cat had a problem with you, he had a problem with you, He even decided he enjoyed having a dog so much, he adopted a dog, luckily, after a few months of trying, they both got along and peacefully sit in his office. He would defiantly adopt a Donskoy Sphynx, and for a dog, he would adopt a Cane Corso, mostly for weather reasons.

Perseus, owns both a cat and a dog, rarely going out for rough missions, he can have two pets in his life and properly take care of them, His current dog, a Siberian Huskey (perfect for the current climate) he's had for five years, his cat, a Korat, he's had for three years. He occasionally takes them both into his office as to not have lonely days, on the days he has to either a) leave fast such as for safety, Stitch, Wraith, and Knight were made responsible as they are his trustable people.

Finally, Bell. Bell loves both of them and never really owned any animals, while working for the CIA, they had a knack for attracting animals while going for walks, they usually arrived with one or two animals, even birds! Mostly kittens and puppies, but even the impossible is possible for them. Woods and Mason found this hilarious and tried not to fall in love with the animals (even if they were there for a short amount of time) Adler or Park always had to be the one to take the animal out of their hands because he knew no work would get done and a rule had to be implemented so it wouldn't happen again (news flash, it did happen, very often)

Solovetsky Ending: let's just say Adler didn't shoot Bell, Adler would take Bell to shelters and would even go with them to save stray (injured) animals. The two actually grew very close and it sort of became a hobby. Adler got his taste of animals and Bell go to feel happy for a few hours, they both learned a lot. After one night of dinner, they found a stray kitten with no family around, they waited an hour to try and see if the mom would come back since It didn't, They took in the kitten, it was an off-day for the workers, so they nursed the kitten for like four days before having to give it up to the shelter.

Duga Ending: After Perseus took Bell in, let's just say the same thing happened, they weren't allowed to be on the field because they weren't mentally able to handle war and risk of being kidnapped so they kind of stuck around the area, although it was rare, abandoned animals did sometimes appear. The first time it happened. Bell was wearing a large coat and returned freezing with only a t-shirt on. Perseus was at the front gate, waiting for some of the operators to come back, but instead, they returned, freezing, a small fluff ball was in their hands while they were slowly developing hypothermia.

"Bell?! What the hell are you doing without a coat?!"

"I-I know, B-But I-I saved a dog."

[justagenderfluidstuff]

I'm looking at you thotlers