Fly Me to the Moon and Back (Helen Park x Female Reader/Bell" ^Discontinued^

The Life of Bell

3rd Person POV

Adler extended his hand and helped Bell up, while Helen reluctantly took Bell's hands after the 'spill your guts' incident. The two joined the agent and his cohorts of Sims, Lazar, and the American duo of Woods/Mason.

Adler was the only one standing in the cargo helicopter, everyone else leaning on the walls or sitting, "Bell, did you get the hit on Qasim?".

"No, Sir"

"Dammit, Bell." Adler pinched the bridge of his nose in an obvious fit of frustration, before sighing and continuing. "Well, we accomplished five out of the seven objectives this strike team came to achieve, I'll give this a C minus," he said while taking a brief pause to look at Bell in particular, then continuing with routine post-mission briefings

Bell leaned back on the metal bench, Qasim got away and it wasn't even difficult because she had no excuse to fuck up the operation that badly. While pondering she heard "Are you alright Bell?". Park said while shifting her body to face the agent.

Y/N looked at Park turned her head slightly to the left with a tinge of curiosity, "Park...how did you get me out of that lock", while gesturing around her neck.

"Not important wasn't anything you wouldn't have done for me," Park grabbed her shoulder "Or have done" the words leaving Bell with a confused look, and Park giving a prescient smile.

Cyprus, 3rd Person "The Last Hit"

The Middle Eastern cities of Cyprus during the evening emitted a musk filled with revelry and bad decisions, intoxicating to the drunkards and those with loose inhibitions, a figure shoved through the crowds, their poison being inhaled as they coughed seemingly in regular intervals. People looking at her like she was crazier than they were as she spoke meaningless words into the thin air

First Person POV

-Russian- "Qasim, what's happening this time, I already helped the man escape, he's en route to Turkey and should land in the Soviet embassy soon"

-Russian- "Orders from Vikhor, he needs you to take out an MI6 agent, Madam Shell, she's stationed in a bar nearby called the 'son yüzük', it doubles as an Inn, but she has a partner"

-Russian- *Cough*"Fine. But when I get back to the safehouse in Austria, you owe me a pack for what I burn getting there"

-Russian- "Cut your tongue Bell, you're addicted and It's reflecting in your work, you haven't been caught yet but you've been doing noticeably worse, you're leaving a trail"

-Russian- "Maybe *Cough* the West has realized any agent that isn't guarded by an entire fortress I'll take out, besides I risk my life every day, I consider a draw of smoke here and their low-risk considering my line of work, you aren't my father"

Before Qasim can respond she hangs up the device in her ear, his berating would have to wait until later. Sure smoking did kill, it heightened Y/N's focus so she could take care of her victims with increased efficiency, smoking killed, just never her. After around four years as Perseus's international field agent, her and Qasim formed a strong bond of camaraderie, as they both came from similar backgrounds, fighting imperial societies in 2nd and 3rd world countries.

I pushed through the crowds, often having to physically shove my way through, disguised in a large overcoat, jeans, turtleneck, and boots. I surveyed the rows of buildings while repeating the name of the bar, until I found the area in the red light district of the city. Loose women showed the services they offered on the windows of the various gentlemen's clubs. Women huddled on the street corners as cars drove by slowly, I stared down any men who looked my way, and showing the more confident men the knife kept in my coat, which matched the size of mosts forearms.

I found the bar and slowly creaked the door open to the nearly empty bar, the waitress shaking  a depressing drink behind the table. And I took a seat next to a man who was either dead or deep asleep

-English- "I'll have a water, no ice ma'am", not trusting the alcohol to be palatable

The woman passed a small glass with water, while continuing on the same half-hearted motion. Needing to catch her attention, reaching into my pocket I pulled out a wad of cash and laid it on the table, she raised an eyebrow.

-English- "Say I needed to know the room where a European woman with fair skin, light hair, the works was staying here, where could I pay them a visit"

The woman looked left and right quickly before sliding the money under the table, and pulling up a key with the label '115'.

I killed the drink and slammed it on the table, which woke up the sleeping man, and gave me the courage to grab the key and start heading to the second floor.

Climbing the steps and once out of the line of sight, I pulled out a silenced sub machine gun and lit up the hallway with the attached flashlight. Passing through 100, then 108, I made it to 115 at the end of the rows.

3rd Person POV

Y/N made it to the door, tried to jiggle the lock, no dice. Taking a step back, she readied herself before kicking the door wide open.

As the door swung open, Y/N stepped in quickly before she was attacked by a woman with blonde hair. She tried to bash her with the gun, but she caught it with her hands and was caught in a game of tug of war with her. The fight forced the gun out of their hands and scattered to the floor. Y/N lunged closer to it, but gave the woman time to strike her over the head with an elbow. The two got into a fist fight, Y/N grabbing the woman's knees and lifting it up, forcefully slamming her onto the wooden floors.

Madam Shell put Y/N into a headlock while the two both grunted while gripping the other tightly. Only until they both conceded, did they manage to get out.

They both drew knives and stared at each other from across the room, Shell took her by surprise by leaping out of the open window into the fire escape, and ran up the stairs, Y/N quickly after her. While Shell made distance initially she only ran up the stairs, while Y/N's urban evasion allowed her to jump up and vault directly onto the next platform.

Making it onto the roof, she was ready to tackle her onto the floor until another figure came into light. Park laid on one of the brick pillars, her throat slit, but not deeply cut. Shell running up to her and leaning the knife onto her throat, "Go ahead and catch me, but your star agent Park will bleed out!"

Y/N stood dead in her tracks as Park tried to utter out some words, but the pain stopped her. "Fine, but go!"

Madam Shell ran out of sight while Y/N leaned down next to her