Chapter 5: Two Truths and a Lie

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Daniel Folten: Unknown Cuban River
March 13, 1981 Hours: unknown

     Cutting the rope was the easy part. Landing in the river was entirely different. Although they both managed to land in deeper parts of the water, that didn't mean they landed right next to each other. In fact after Bell came in contact with a few tree branches he saw Park land at least twenty feet away from where he did, before they both went under. The current was especially strong where he was, wedging him between a fallen tree and a massive rock, which looked much smaller from above water. Not only was the tree log suffocating him by it's heavy weight leaning on his torso but the current was moving debris such as small pebbles into his face. After several attempts at trying to free himself from under water, he decided to try something different. If he was ever going to get back to the surface he was going to need to get rid of some dead weight. He quickly unzipped his vest and grabbed the health stims he found earlier and attached them to his belt, letting his vest be lost to the current. He could feel the water begin to creep into his now burning lungs. This time he pushed and managed to slip from between the log and the rock. Swimming to the surface as fast as he could, he started to see black spots in the corners of his eyes. Air, something he would never take for granted ever again, as he broke the river's surface, coughing up water. He removed what was left of his balaclava and it too got swept away in the current. He quickly swam to the nearest shore and threw himself on the stable ground, lying face first.
"Just need a minute to recuperate and then I'll go find Park." He thought to himself. He never did.

The dream was different this time. "I didn't think he'd recover so fast." Adler admitted. He was in some sort of lab, a recovery room? He couldn't tell the difference. This time he was in a medical bed with IVs in his arm. His body felt like it had been run over by a train.
"The doctors said he'll be ready to undergo procedures in two weeks time." Park said, the both of them observing Bell in his somewhat recovered state.

"Within two weeks Perseus may have already gotten this much further to shifting total power to the Soviet Union. We're starting within the next three days." Adler said sternly

"If we start before he's medically cleared-" Adler interrupted her, sounding frustrated.

"I don't know how they do things over in London but if you're gonna be on my team then I expect you to do your job. And as far as I can remember I don't think personal input is part of your occupation."

The last thing he saw was a red door before it too faded away, changing the scene. This time he was in a field, in the center there was a target. He was holding some sort of rifle.

"Again!" The man had a Soviet accent. He stood behind Bell, yelling at him.

"Shoot again!"

Bell shot multiple times, each time not even coming close to the target. It didn't help that it was cold, and the rain falling from the sky was interfering with his vision.

"Stop!" The man from behind ordered. Bell sat the weapon down on a nearby crate. The man came into Bell's peripheral vision, finally putting a voice to a face. He wore a uniform with symbols indicating he was some sort of ranked military official. From the corner of his eye he could see a few other people watching everything go down, but for whatever reason he couldn't see their faces. They were simply just a blur. The man pushed Bell down, making him fall on his back.
"Worthless!" He shouted as Bell saw his first start to come closer to his face.

    That was what woke him up. Everything felt so real, just like the last dream. The cold rain falling on his face, feeling of having IVs running in his arm. The fact that Adler and Park were a part of this 'dream' made him conclude that the first one wasn't a dream at all. He awakened with a joult, realizing he was sitting on the ground leaned against a tree. He quickly stood up, still panicky breathing. He observed he was the only one by the small, barely lit fire. As he was remembering the most recent events that led him to this point he heard footsteps behind him. On instinct he swiftly turned around and performed an arm drag on them, forcing them to the ground.

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