Four Hundred and Twenty | Yogscast Lewis (xReader)

T h i r t y O n e

T h i r t y O n e

- P a r t F o u r -

T h e L e t t e r

I loved the historical places that I called my temporary home. The campus of Cambridge University appeared similar, only little disdaining changes made the whole place newer.

I looked outside from the window of the office, gently balancing the cup of tea on my hand.

"I wasn't expecting you to come."

A pair of calm eyes glance over to me but returned themselves looking on the papers on the dark oak desk. As the sound of the fountain pen scratching on the surface, I let my lips touch the rim of the china cup once more.

Slowly, I placed the cup down under my chin. His rimmed eyes focused back on mine, heavily analysing my move.

"How did you come to know double oh five?" The aging man asked me.

"Connections." I simply answered. "Entered my life as I was younger."

Professor Archibald Well's, now a rather conservative and yet prying man stopped writing and searched for any elaborations in my facial expressions. But all I could do was purse a monotonous look back.

There, I placed the cup down. "Never knew his position until I was recruited. And that was a year after I began my doctorate here."

I knew the man well, but with such a lack of meetings, I've lost my connection with him. Therefore in my head, the memories of him: Professor Well's seminars, talks and lessons were all short clips. Archibald was the only link I could grab on when it came to my father and uncle.

Though to me: he was just a man who wanted connections too.

He made a humming sound until it turned into a strangling cough, his hands now focused on the pages he was turning on the desk. Another assignment marked I reckoned. "I called you in as your uncle has left the country in pursue of an unmarked USSR territory."

It was soft murmur as he spoke, but to my own, it was as if I was facing a speaker towards my face. USSR territory meant bunkers.

Professor Well's gulped, "Your uncle informed that he wishes to give you his inheritance. All access to his bank accounts and properties and-"

"What." I gaped, my eyebrows raised.

Neither a word or look changed from him.

"No. No, no, no..." I shook my head.

What was my uncle thinking? Going into potential danger that is stupidly dangerous and highly reckless. He ignored me for months, only getting 'okay' notes from Mark Turpin but that was it. Nothing was mentioned about the case of the Russian spy.

Pulling away the chair, I got up and felt the tapping of my footsteps hit the wooden flooring. I paced to and throw from the window, thinking of why Will had gone abroad and warned my professor.

Both uncle and father knew each other from work for MI5 and MI6. Why would my own Professor - a teacher with his own family - would let his friend's niece inform that her uncle would die? Unless Archibald Wells...

The said person stood up from his desk and placed something in front of him. He gestured down towards it, and I walked over. There, I found a folder, tattered and worn from age. And written in Russian text.

CODE RAVEN

PROJECT BEGAN 1954

UNDER SURVEILLANCE OF KGB