Cold War: Before The Bell

Chapter 27

England
MI6
March 1, 1981

The first thing his eyes locked on was the TV screen. It was static, the movie had been over for quite some time now. He threw his feet over the bed and faced the wall. He observed his reflection, realising he didn't even change out of his uniform, nor did he actually sleep underneath the covers.

He slipped off the now wrinkled, navy blue uniform. He was about to toss on another outfit when he heard a knock at his door.

"Throw this on. We're not going to be sticking around here today." Park handed him a set of clothes.

"Where are we going?" Bell peaked his head out of the door, caught off gaurd that they were about to have this conversation.

"I'll tell you shortly. Just get dressed." She seemed very focused today. He didn't know if that was a good thing, or bad.

He shut the door and threw on a pair of kahkis, a crimson turtle neck, and a brown leather jacket, very similar to his jacket Adler gave him when they went to Berlin not long ago. He grabbed the fedora from his bed and placed the brown hat upon his head. He opened his door.

"Here put these on too, it'll add to the look." Park handed him a pair of glasses, made to look as if they had real perscription lenses in them. Bell shut the door behind him as he followed her down the hall.

"Whats going on?" He asked her, propping the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"I'll explain when we get into the car. Your driving, by the way." She tossed him the keys before they exited the building through the front doors.

"Driving?!" Bell protested. "I don't even know where we're going? Or where our vehicle is?" He stood on the sidewalk by the building entrance.

"We're right here love." She hopped into the passenger side of the DB-5 Aston Martin.

"I get to drive this..." he mumbled in awe, not knowing if he said it as a question or statement.

"Dan!" She shouted, already strapped inside, her cigarette lit.

"Sorry." He apalogized, hurridly getting into the driver's seat.

"Take a right and keep going straight." She directed him casually.

"Till when?"

"Till I tell you otherwise."

"Yes... sensai.." he mumbled. "Care to tell me where we're going?"

"To the scene itself."

"Which is where? The airport, correct?" He recalled her telling him.

"Yes."

As they turned he accidentally maneuvered the car towards the right side of the street, forgetting to keep to the right.

"Bell!" Park shouted placing a hand on the steering wheel.

"I wasn't going to let us crash!" He protested.

"Well of course not, because I saved us!" She let out a heavy sigh. "Some day your going to be the death of me."

"I was about to say the same about you." He scoffed.

"Here, stop." She placed a hand on the dash board.

"What is it we're looking for?"

"In the report it was written that Thomas was shot with a bullet from a standard M1911 pistol. But when I studied the bullet wounds and the pictures of the bullets themselves there was a slight difference between the two. Whatever gun was used in combat, was used with what I believe to be custom bullets." She walked along the sidewalk, following the pavement until she came to a stop. "It rained not too long after, heavily I might add." She crouched focusing her gaze on the street gutter. She slipped on a pair of gloves, and began searching with her hands along the metal edges of the grail.