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“Sims, get the gurney.”
Bell groaned as they regained consciousness, feeling the throbbing pain from the bullet wound in their shoulder as they were being dragged onto the safehouse’s cold concrete. The cryptographer opened their eyes, only seeing two large figures above them. They repeatedly shut their eyes tightly, attempting to clear the fog in their vision.
Bell felt a pair of hands slip under their arms, and another pair grabbing their ankles before they were lifted up from the ground. Bell groaned as they felt the bullet dig deeper into their shoulder, wincing as the metal tore into the muscle. Once settled onto the uncomfortable stretcher, the sharp pain subsided, replacing it with a dull ache.
“You look like shit. Or were you always that ugly?”
Bell turned their head towards the familiar voice. Lazar was sat on the wooden desk, chuckling before clutching his side as soreness radiated throughout his torso. The Israeli slowly stood from the table and approached the injured cryptographer.
“Thanks for… back there. Saved my ass. Maybe you’re one of us after all.” He said, smiling softly at his teammate, setting his hands on the stretcher.
Bell turned their gaze away, a tear trailing down their cheek.
“Lazar, I’m so sorry,” They whispered, staring at the ceiling to avoid Lazar’s sky-blue orbs. “I wish I would’ve been quick enough to save Park, too.”
“Bell, you did what you had to do,” Lazar responded, grabbing Bell’s hand while the young operator silently sobbed. “There wasn’t enough time for you to save both me and Park, and I understand. The team understands.”
He settled his bandaged hand on Bell’s hair, lightly patting their head to console them.
“No matter what happens, I never forget the people I owe.”
Adler returned, telling Sims to prepare the doses for the upcoming procedure as he strapped Bell into place. Angry footsteps echoed throughout the room, becoming louder as they approached the group.
“Adler, stop wasting our valuable time! They’re of no use to us anymore!” Hudson approached him, only to be ignored by the man as he pushed Bell into the other room. He only watched as Bell was rolled into the small space, their eyes never breaking contact. Bell’s breathing became shallower and more fast-paced, their panic-filled eyes blinking in an odd, repeating pattern. Three short blinks, followed by three slower paced, then three in a faster pace.
S.O.S.
Morse code.
With anger coursing through his veins, Hudson marched outside of the safehouse, his mind creating scenarios of the many ways he would torture Adler for what he had done to Bell. His feet brought him to a budding tree, where he and Bell stargazed and kissed just a week prior. Hudson sat, his back leaning against the tree trunk, his eyes gazing into the dark ocean of stars above him.
He felt responsible for Bell’s indoctrination via MK-Ultra. Although it was Adler who had done the work, with Park’s assistance, he was the one to oversee the procedure. Hudson witnessed the psychological torture Bell endured after they wouldn’t open up about Perseus, nor themselves, to Adler or Park. Adler would use other means of torture to force Bell to disclose information, especially electrocution and social isolation that, sometimes, would last up to a week.
The MK-Ultra program was Adler’s last resort if Bell wouldn’t crack from his interrogation methods.
Hudson would check up on Bell during those times of confinement, trying to make small talk by asking them questions about their life. He knew that Adler’s continuous interrogation to obtain anything related to Bell’s work with Perseus would lead to them being uncooperative. Bell was hesitant in answering at first, but when Hudson assured them that whatever was discussed would stay between them, they slowly opened up. They eventually revealed their name, their age, and their origin, but nothing about Perseus.
His mind brought him back to a particular day; the morning where Bell was about to be put through mental anguish by Adler.
Langley, February 2nd, 1981.
05:30
It was a particularly cold Monday morning at CIA Headquarters. The dark sky was covered by thick dark gray clouds, heavy rain trickling down onto the earth, melting any left-over snow from the previous week and leaving large puddles of water on the streets.
Hudson had gotten off the elevator, his umbrella and briefcase dripping water onto the floor from the downpour. It was quiet on his floor; most of the floor’s offices were empty, with the exception of four, maybe five office spaces currently occupied.
The special agent made it to his office door, stopping before shifting the case to his other hand and grabbing his keys from his jacket pocket. Inserting the correct key into the deadlock and unlocking the door, Hudson stepped inside, setting the umbrella against the wall and his briefcase onto his desk.
Unlocking the briefcase, he took out the files he needed to work on for the day and settled them on the corner of the wooden bureau. The folder laying on top of the pile slid and fell to the floor, contents secured by a paperclip slipping out of the now empty sleeve.
I need a fucking coffee.
Hudson sighed and bent down to pick up the dropped file and papers.
It was the captive’s file, and the notes he had taken from previous conversations. Notes separate from Adler’s.
Might as well go check on them, too.
Hudson placed the file on the stack, grabbing his keys before marching out of his office. Shutting the door behind him and locking the deadlock, he made his way back to the elevator. He walked past Adler’s office, lights off and unoccupied.
He’s probably on his way here.
Hudson did get to work earlier than usual, these days.
He then arrived at the cafeteria. No one was there, except for the staff in the kitchen and a person sat at one of the tables in the main court, their back turned to him.
He grabbed a metal tray and had it filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit. Grabbing two mugs at the beverage station, he filled the ceramic mugs with hot coffee, then took a few packets of sugar and creamer.
The person stood from their seat and made their way to the counter, setting their mug on the wooden countertop. They grabbed the decanter of freshly made coffee and poured the dark liquid into their cup.
“Good morning, Hudson.” The individual greeted.
Park.
“Good morning,” He acknowledged her, turning to face her. “What are you doing here so early? You don’t start until oh-seven hundred.”
Park opened the tiny container of milk and poured it into her coffee cup. She observed their surroundings, looking for the kitchen staff. They were alone.
“The subject hasn’t been cooperating since they’ve gotten here,” She began, her voice low to assure that nobody else could eavesdrop into their conversation. “Adler tried everything to get any intel out of them, even their name, but to no avail. He decided to begin the program today.”
After the small debriefing from Park, Hudson made his way to his office to grab the folder before heading to the laboratory with the subject’s food and coffee. The MI6 agent had some codes to decrypt before Adler’s arrival, thus giving Hudson some time to check on the captured Perseus agent.
Eventually arriving at the subject’s door, he knocked, before unlocking the door with his keycard and entering their space.
“Hi, Hudson,” The Perseus agent said, sitting up on their bed with a book in hand.
“Morning,” He stepped further into the room. “I brought some coffee and breakfast for you.”
He settled the tray on the bed and gave the captive their coffee with the creamer and sugar.
“Thanks. I don’t need the creamer,” They said, folding the page corner of the book and setting it aside before taking the mug and packets of sweetener.
Hudson kept the tiny plastic containers of cream and sat before them on the desk chair. He opened the folder and reached for a pen in his shirt pocket. He didn’t get a good look of the novel that they were reading.
“Who brought you the book?” He asked, curious.
“Adler did,” They replied, grabbing the tray of food, and setting it on their lap. “He thought I should read it, said something about seeing the similarities between the politics in the book and the real world. Mainly, how Oceania and the Soviet Union are similar states.”
Hudson knew the book they were talking about.
‘1984’ by George Orwell.
Why would Adler bring a book about totalitarianism to an agent whose leader’s main goal is to bring the world into a state of dystopia?
“Did you find any resemblance?” Hudson was interested to hear a communist’s opinion on a book whose author warned against the spread of the ideology.
The young captive sighed, “I did, notably the Soviet Union under Stalin’s regime.”
They paused. Hudson urged them to continue on.
“Stalinism and Nazism have the most resemblance to the totalitarian state of Oceania, using fear and punishment to obtain complete devotion from its citizens. But I’ve also noticed that some of the Western countries use some variation of control on their people.” The individual then took a forkful of scrambled egg into their mouth.
“Such as?” Hudson lifted the folder to adjust his seating, crossing his legs.
“Well, using propaganda to influence their beliefs, for one,” They said as they grabbed a strip of bacon from the tray. “Almost every politician in the Western world have said at one point that they think that Communism will lead to a totalitarian state.”
“Which is likely.”
The Perseus commander took a sip of coffee, then settled their tray of food and mug on the bed stand with a heavy sigh.
“Hudson, I was told by Adler during my interrogation yesterday that if I don’t spill the beans on Perseus, he’ll make me and said he would make sure that I suffer.”
The CIA agent shut the folder before placing it on the small desk behind him. He then clicked his pen shut and stuffed it in his dress shirt pocket.
“I know that he’ll use the MK-Ultra program on me,” The Perseus commander continued. “I remember that Perseus has used a version of it for his sleeper agents. I want to tell you about a few important things before my brain function is permanently altered.”
The captive then stood up and paced in the room, silence filling the space, other than the shuffling of their feet. Hudson stared at them, waiting for them to speak again. The commander let out an exhale, continuing back and forth.
“If my memory is completely wiped, and this whole shebang works in your favor…” They paused, stopping their pace, and turned toward the special agent. “I want you to tell me everything about my past life. Who I was, how old I am, where I lived, who I worked for… Everything. But what I will be telling you, which includes some details that I know about Perseus, cannot be relayed to that stubborn prick and his accomplice.”
Hudson reminded them that whatever was discussed between them was to stay between them, and the folder he had would remain accessible to only Bell and himself. He had guaranteed that Adler nor Park wouldn’t even know of the interactions between them.
“Alright then,” The detainee then sat back down on their bed, “Do we have a deal?”
Jason knew that Adler’s little experiment on the captured agent with the MK-Ultra program had a 50/50 chance of having one of two outcomes: The mission ending with Perseus captured, or with him roaming free and unleashing nukes onto the West from his hideout.
He had seen first-hand what the after-effects of menticide can do to a person, regardless of its purpose. Mason’s indoctrination with the Russians’ version of the program back in the 60s fucked him up. He is still experiencing occasional hallucinations to this day, such as seeing and hearing numbers, and his former ally Reznov.
Although the commander is an enemy, whose leader wants to make the Soviet Union the world’s only superpower, they shouldn’t have to suffer the same way Mason did. Using brainwashing as a means to reveal intel, potentially Perseus’ whereabouts, and making the subject an obedient soldier was against Hudson’s moral values.
Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t interfere with the program.
Because President Regan himself approved the procedure and gave the green light for Adler to do whatever he wanted, as long as it led to Perseus’ capture or his elimination.
So, whether he liked it or not, it was a risk the team would have to take.
After a long, deafening silence, Hudson let out a sigh as he grabbed the folder once more and opened it to another attached blank page.
“Affirmative,” He replied, grabbing his pen from his dress shirt pocket, ready to write down the intel to be revealed. “Tell me what you know.”
Hudson kept that promise. Neither Adler nor Park had found out of their interactions and discussions. The folder was locked away in his briefcase, left in the backseat of the parked Volkswagen in the driveway.
He rolled up his jacket sleeve and checked his watch.
Jesus Christ, has an hour really gone by?
He stood from the ground and made his way back to the safehouse as he reached into his jacket pocket for his cigarette pack and lighter.
Upon his entry, Lazar had stepped out of the room, followed by Sims and Adler. Sims immediately sat at the desk, grabbing the phone, and composing a number for Adler. The Israeli-American pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep sigh, then marching toward the armory.
Hudson then marched to the makeshift interrogation room, ignoring the crew’s gaze. He shut the door behind him, locking it to assure that nobody would barge in, and turned to face Bell.
They looked exhausted; their hair stuck to their forehead from the intense sweating caused by the drugs during the investigation. Their body trembled as the muscles in their body struggled to keep them stable on their feet. Hudson noticed a small streak of dried blood tracing their cheek from the intravitreal injection.
Hudson immediately wrapped his arms around Bell’s waist in an embrace, dropping his cigarette on the floor. The operative stood still, confused, until they too embraced the special agent’s athletic form, burying their face into his neck.
Jason’s mind brought him to what he had said to Adler before Bell was rolled into this very room.
“Stop wasting our valuable time! They’re of no use to us anymore!” The phrase echoed as the look of horror in Bell’s eyes and the blinking of Morse code replayed in his head.
“Did you mean it?” Bell interrupted his echoing inner monologue.
“Hmm?”
“’They’re of no use to us anymore’. Did you mean what you said?”
Hudson let out a sigh as he pulled away, his arms still enveloping the smaller figure’s waist.
“No, I didn’t,” He paused, attempting to gather his words. “I said it because I thought it would stop Adler from torturing you, but obviously, that didn’t faze him.”
His cerulean blues gazed into Bell’s light-colored ones, noticing a mixture of green and blue, similar to the tropical seashores he had seen in Cuba.
He leaned in, closing his eyes as his forehead touched Bell’s own. Silence hovered between the two agents. Only the buzzing of the lights and their breaths could be heard.
“Solovetsky,” Bell finally spoke, “I told Adler that the nukes are being launched from the Monastery in Solovetsky.”
To be continued...