Cold War: Before The Bell

Chapter 25

I think the car ride is the most we've ever spoken. It is strange, you know? We're both have no real allegiance to this country. I at the time beleived we both swore our alligence to the British. The more we spoke I kept asking myself: How haven't we met before? I simply didn't understand. The further our trip lasted the more I learned. Its hard to remember that other agents are also human beings.

Feb 28, 1981
England

"Hudson is letting us fly in this?" Bell said in awe as he and Park stepped aboard the private jet.

"The day that happens is the same day he loses the plot." Park tossed her bags into a leather seat, Bell following suit. "Its mine." She said bluntly.

"Must have cost you a pretty penny." He sat down in one of the seats by the window.

"It didn't cost me a single quid. My parents on the other hand... it cost them a bit more."

"So it's an inheritance?"

"Kind of." She walked over to the alcohol tray, pouring the two of them drinks.

"You don't come off as the rich, spoiled brat." He said somewhat suprised.

"What? You'd rather work with me if I acted like one of those toffs?" She joked, handing him a small glass.

"No." He smiled, taking the drink as she took the seat infront of him. "I enjoy working with you as much as I do with the others. Except Hudson of course. But I... admire that you don't appear to be of any upper class royalty." He said sincerley.

"I appreciate it, Bell." She smiled softly. He could tell that this was something she hadn't spoken to many people of.

"So how did your family get their fortune?" He asked. They felt the plane take off.

"Politics." She took a sip from her glass.

"They must be very intelligent people." Bell inferred, taking a sip from his own drink.

"They are. There's no winning an arguement against them." She said as Bell immidiatly spewed the liquid back into the glass, covering his mouth as he did so.

"Can't handle a posh drink?"

"Appearantly not." He wiped his mouth with his leather sleeve of his jacket. "I'm not much of a drinker." He set the glass on the tray beside his seat.

"Do you carry that into the field with you?" She pointed to the walkman attatched to his hip.

"Yes, most of the time. Whenever theres a dull moment in our missions I'll see if I can find a tape that maybe got left behind."

"Go look over there." She pointed behind him to a small shelf full of casetts. "The only other people I know who love the sound of music like you to are my parents."

"Wow." He walked over to the small shelf, observing all the tapes and the years written on them. "They seemed to have been collectors themselves."

"They were." She tried not to say it with sorrow in her voice. She hesitated but figured it was the least she could do to ease the guilt that was built up inside. "Take a few. They won't mind." She finished her drink.

"Are you sure? I'd hate to mess up the collection." He ran his finger across one in particular.

"They keep all the valuable stuff at home." She watched him take a few tapes, leaving the others alone.

"What about this one? They should keep this one, it looks sentimental." He handed her one of the tapes.

"This is mine actually. They gave it to me... after that." He remembered what she had shared to him about her parents in their odd car ride to the plane.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She could tell he meant it.

"Don't be. Why don't you give it a listen?" She handed it to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He popped the old tape in, excited to hear the melodies sound through his headphones. "It's very beautiful." He said, removing one of the earpecies away. "Have you listened to it before?"

"No, but they always told me it encapsulated their relationship. I just never got around to hearing it."

"Here." He switched to the seat beside her, removing his headphones as the tape continued to run and handed them over.

"It is pretty." She agreed with him. She listened through Bell's headphones, giving him a somber smile.

They held each others gaze before closing the gap between them, exchanging kisses.

"I didn't even give my consent." He teased, causing them both to laugh.

The sound of a telephone rang somewhere behind a door. They paused.

"You want to answer that?" He said, handing her back her sentimental casset tape. He wore a grin on his face.

"Probably a higer up, you should get some rest. We've still a few hours before we land." She left him to answer the call.

He relaxed back into his seat, his body feeling lighter than a feather. He placed one of the new tapes into his walkman and rested his head agianst the window ceil, letting the tracks put him into an unsconscious state.

London
MI6 HQ

They were picked up the moment they landed.

"I don't remember a lot of these people." Bell mumbled to Park as they walked towards the entrance.

"This place has agents coming and going. Your lucky if the person from yesterday will still be there the next." She replied, they both carried their bags as two agents escorted them. "Just, try to keep quiet unless someone speaks to you."

Bell nodded. The two escorts opened the front doors, shutting them after the pair walked inside.

"Agent, welcome home." A woman greeted Park. "You brought a friend?"

"He's of MI6. We're here for a few days before returning to the states." She explained, setting her bags on a table for inspection. Bell followed suit.

"I see." She turned her attention to Bell. "Agent..." she didn't recognize his face.

"Folten." Bell extended his hand.

"Agent Folten." She shook his hand. "Agent Quinn ." She introduced herself, handing him a key. "Your quarters is right next to Agent Park's." Bell nodded, the two grabbing their things and moving along.

Bell unlocked the door, tossing his things onto the bed.

"Stay in here. Don't go anywhere or talk to anyone unless you absolutly need to. I'll be back shortly." She poked her head into his room.

"But I know my way around. I used to live and work here." He didn't understand why she was treating him like a child.

"But nobody else knows that. Your accent screams American. They don't know you enough to be able to recognize the light British in your tone. Just trust me."

"Okay." He replied simply.

"It shouldn't take long." She closed his door, leaving him alone.

The room was decorated nicely and was fairly cozy for its small size. There was a thin tinted window allowing him to see the view of London below him.