#in that adler is very much a villian in this story

[quizzyisdone]

The Color Red (Part I) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: The Divine Zero Word Count: 2.4k Pairing - Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Synopsis: When Russell Adler finds an agent of his sworn enemy, shot by one of her own, he brings her in, hoping to interrogate her for a lead to Perseus. When conventional interrogation falls short, Adler, blinded by his hatred to Perseus, resorts to other, more unsavory methods. Jason Hudson, his handler, can only watch from afar in horror as a potentially innocent woman has her entire life and identity erased in the blink of an eye. Told from Hudson's perspective. Warnings: Strong language, mentions of brainwashing, torture, canon-typical violence, dark romance, toxic relationships, love triangles

**Title inspired by "The Divine Zero" by Pierce the Veil

Masterlist

Maybe I could swim into your thoughts like your drugs do

Paralyze your body

Sick and tired of waking up to

Burning eyes and cigarettes

“1969, Camp Haskins. We met when you were assigned to MACV-SOG. You and I were embedded within the 3rd Marine Regiment near Da Nang. SOG was there to sniff out Soviet activity. Word had it Russian operatives were active in the region-” Adler began his usual spiel that he’d been citing for the last two days word for word.

He was speaking to the girl that was gagged and strapped into an interrogation chair, graphic videos from the war playing on three televisions all within her field of vision. Specially made liquidized LSD connected into her IV that injected it straight into her veins. All she could see was the war. All she could hear was the war. Perfect for Adler. Not only could he break her indelible will, but he could make her feel as he felt for years. Broken and destroyed.

She was sobbing, looking absolutely panicked, and Hudson couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt deep in his gut. She was probably a Red anyways, but this seemed… excessive. It had too closely echoed what he witnessed Mason go through years and years ago. Adler called it conditioning, but that was just a nicer sounding synonym for what it was -- brainwashing. But he was in no position to stop it now, Adler had made damn sure of that.

She was young, not quite “fresh out of her teens” young, early to mid twenties if he had to guess, but certainly younger than the two aged men sitting across from her behind the one sided glass. A decently pretty face, even after enduring a week straight of the CIA’s classic, finest interrogation methods, but otherwise unremarkable -- which was what made her oh-so remarkable to Adler. Given Adler's hot and cold personality, and the fact that she was here with an uncanny connection to his worst enemy and wasn’t hard on the eyes to boot, Hudson knew the man was borderline obsessed with the woman. He would have been surprised if Adler wasn’t attracted to her in his own twisted, fucked up way.

He always tended towards toxic extremes, anyways.

She was painfully, moderately above average by all standards. The most exotic thing about her was her muted accent and ginger locks. He couldn’t quite guess the origin of the accent (Eastern Europe, spoken with a twinge of British slang?), but she spoke English with the fluency of a native. A cute, well structured but round face framed with wavy, somewhat frizzy hair, tanned skin dotted with freckles, and a nose that once had been broken, judging by slight mishapenness of it, and hooked upwards at the end. 

Her face bore the marks of Adler’s interrogations, with one particularly large jet black bruise around her chestnut eyes. The most puzzling thing about her however was her singular, tiny tattoo of a bell on her arm that was inked right beneath the crease where the forearm meets the upper arm. Other than that, her body was devoid of any alterations such as piercings or other, bigger tattoos. 

That’s what the two had used for her namesake; Bell. The name she gave them couldn’t be trusted, given her circumstances of capture. The woman hadn’t given them anything else, a simple first name of Eleanor (she had omitted her surname) and the name of a man in MI6 who had long since been dead according to the records the agency was willing to give up to another foreign intelligence agency, which to no one’s surprise, wasn’t much.

“We had a job to do…” Adler trailed off, and snapped his fingers. The woman instantly fell asleep. 

“Alright, that should do it for today. Keep the tapes playing and turn the volume up a bit louder, she’ll need to hear it in order to feel like she’s there.” A British woman’s voice had piped up from the background. Helen Park.

Hudson didn’t dare face her, he was never one for psychological warfare in the first place and here he was in the presence of the expert in it. From what he understood, Agent Park helped “blossom” this MK-Ultra project from its infancy back in the 60’s to the powerhouse of a weapon it was now, twenty years later. He took a sip from his coffee.

“You’re awfully quiet, Hudson.” She pointed out. 

“He’s always quietly brooding, That’s sort of his thing.” Adler chuckled as he turned his chair to face her, reaching into his pocket for his lighter and pack of cigarettes. “Want a light?” He asked, a cigarette between his teeth as he held another one out to Hudson. 

Hudson nodded, grabbing his zippo lighter from his pocket and taking a long drag. 

“So, tell me about this team you’re putting together. I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing some of the candidates you submitted but I’d like to hear some of your reasoning, maybe offer some suggestions.” Park said, leaning against the file cabinet. Hudson scoffed.

“I don’t need your suggestions, Agent Park. MI6 is already way too entangled as is. ” He said with a cigarette in between his teeth. “You’re only here at Adler’s insistence. If the man didn’t have such a tight hold on Command’s balls, you wouldn’t be here.”

“You wound me Hudson.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t like this as much as the next person, but given her stubbornness and the situation at hand, it’s the only way.” Park reasoned, Adler nodded coolly but glanced down for naught but a second, rubbing at his temples. 

“Bullshit, but anyways,” Hudson took another drag. “What did you want to know?”

“Alex Mason and Frank Woods are certainly a peculiar choice for our team, given the circumstances of our friend in the chair.”

“Hate to break it to you, but any high stakes, top secret mission with Hudson, they’ve got to be on it.” Adler gave a light chuckle, light jabbing at Hudson’s shoulder.

“They’re good soldiers and they know how to shut their mouths. As brass as they can be, they’re great agents when they’re together.” He took another drag of his cigarette, Park opened her mouth to object but he cut her off quickly. ”And I don’t intend to tell either of them about Bell’s situation if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Hudson said sternly.

“The conditioning is only one of my concerns, among plenty others. They are charming, loyal to a fault, and easy to get along with. I’d imagine they’d be quick friends with Bell. That creates a problem when we must depose her, no?”

“But somehow that’s not a problem with Azoulay. Is he not charming and friendly, especially to women such as yourself and Bell?” He retorted.

“The big guy?” Adler chimed in, a slight smirk appeared across his features. “He’s not as emotionally volatile as Mason and Woods. He’d understand.”

“Fine. Regarding Mason and Woods, we’ll just have to make it convincing enough to take the blame off of you. They’ve been in the field long enough and seen plenty of people die, they’ll get over it even if they do befriend her.” Hudson began. “They’re tough bastards. Everyone on the team has been contacted, so it’s too late to change.” Hudson snuffed his cigarette on his boot, tossing it into the ashtray.

“I think Bell here has gone through enough today.” He muttered to himself.

“Pardon?” Park raised an eyebrow.

“I think Bell has gone through plenty today.” Hudson repeated, louder, ignoring protests from Park and Adler.

In an act of kindness atypical of a man such as Hudson, he rose from his uncomfortable, government issued swivel chair, striding towards the door leading into the room the girl was in. He turned off the television with the flashing images of Vietnam, removed her gag, and loosened her restraints.

Hudson snapped near her ear, and she was awake. He glanced at her eyes, noting how terrified they appeared. 

“Can you walk?” He spoke gruffly. The girl nodded, unsure and slow. Gingerly, she gripped at the arm rests, using it to leverage herself up. This was the most silence he’d ever heard from her, normally she always had some profanity to spew at whoever woke her up from the sessions. This was a degree of success Hudson did not expect, and secretly cursed.

Slowly and a bit unsteadily, she began to walk towards the door leading to the hallway where she knew by now she’d find her cell. Hudson placed a hand on his holster and the other ghosting at the small of her back -- not quite touching, but she most definitely knew it was there. 

Her walk was rather sedate, more akin to the undead than a real person, and the need for handcuffs just days ago was no longer there. Adler had broken her enough to where she just wouldn’t fight back anymore. 

“Get some rest.” He muttered when they reached her cell.

“Like you give a shit.” She said, with equal parts venom and pronounced exhaustion. Her voice was low, raspy, laced with an accent Adler himself admitted to finding rather exotic.

Hudson ignored her provocation. “Someone will bring you something to eat later.”

“Tell them to bring a cigarette.” She hoarsely laughed to herself as Hudson closed the door behind him, lightly chuckling to himself. She had been begging for a cigarette ever since Adler took her into custody, and once or twice she’d been indulged when she promised information in exchange for a light. At least there’s one glue that will hold this rag-tag team together; a crippling nicotine addiction. 

But even that was something Adler was trying to take from her. “It’s bad for her, we’re doing our little Bell a favor on this one.” He laughed when Hudson had questioned him about it, even as he hypocritically took a drag of his fifth one in the past three hours. Scarcely could Adler be seen without one in his hand, especially so since Trabzon, since Perseus came back into play.

Hudson went back into the room behind the two-sided glass, finding it now deserted. The pair must’ve called it quits for the day. Funny, he did not expect Adler to actually respect his authority in this situation, maybe he was just as tired as everyone else was. 

Hudson found it amusing once upon a time -- Adler’s almost absolute disregard for command when it did not suit the mission, maybe even virtuous at some moments, but now Hudson could not stand his impudence. People have been hurt, not saved this time around. 

Adler’s cruel desperation was evident in the way he treated Bell. He had not always been so unkind in the thirteen years Hudson had known him, so casually malicious as he was with only Bell. He has such a dark twisted obsession with the woman, he electrocutes her and calls her pretty all in the same breath. 

He had been a decent friend of Hudson for years, until a few weeks ago, a great respect remained unspoken between them but omnipresent in their friendship. Now, that rather optimistic viewpoint that was so rare for Hudson to behold of someone, had dwindled. Does he not remember Mason and the numbers, the macabre stories of what happened to him and what happened to others because of him? Or was he simply too blinded by Perseus to see? Or did he simply just not care?

The latter, even through Hudson’s now tainted lens of the man, seemed unlikely. Adler was not an uncaring, needlessly cruel man. Gruff and rough around the edges, most certainly, but never unnecessarily brutal like his actions towards Bell may suggest. One moment, the man was a stranger to Hudson, the next, an old friend. 

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” Adler clapped a hand on Hudson’s shoulder, startling the man. Speak of the devil.

“Mm.” He grunted. “Nothing.”

“Hm, so you just stare into nothing in your free time?” Adler said coolly. “I bet it's your wife?”

Hudson rolled his eyes, irritated at the scarred man before him, completely oblivious to even what was bothering him. The situation with Jacqueline had stopped badgering at his heart, eating him from the inside out long ago, Adler knew that well. 

“Sure.” 

“Just sign the damn divorce papers then.” Adler said, lighting yet again, another damn cigarette.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He rubbed at his forehead, pulling the cigarette from Adler’s mouth and unceremoniously snuffing it in the ashtray. 

“What the fuck?” He spat, the indignancy becoming apparent in his tone. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hudson snarled, rising from the chair he was previously slumped in. “Do you not see what you’re doing?”

“What? Bell?” Adler recollected himself, his infuriatingly cool demeanor once again washing over him as his mouth settled into a signature frown. “Why are you even mad about that?”

“Do you not remember Mason? Do you not remember that load of horseshit twenty years ago?” He glared daggers at Adler, and for a brief moment, there was silence ringing off the walls of the cinderblock room. Adler suddenly took a keen interest in his feet as Hudson awaited his answer.

“Mason was different.” He looked up again, his sunglasses making it almost impossible for Hudson to read his expression. “She’s a bad guy, he’s a good guy. He didn’t deserve it, she probably does.”

“Probably.” He scoffed. “You don’t even know anything about her. All you know was that some man associated with Perseus shot her.”

“I don’t have time to wait for a confession after months of interrogation or chase MI6 ghosts. You know what happens when Perseus comes into play. Nukes, noxious gasses, WMD's, that kind of shit.” Adler defended. “If she truly knows anything about Perseus, we owe it to everyone in the goddamn world to do whatever we can.”

“Oh spare me the soapbox.” Hudson laughed. “You tried conventional interrogation for one day and then immediately went for MK Ultra. You barely even tried the MI6 lead.” Hudson sighed, shocked at his own moral disgust. Perhaps Jacqueline was wrong -- he did have a heart. “We don’t even know if this is the right tree to be barking at, and if this isn’t, then the consequences are on your head. Not mine.”

“Go ahead, let it all fall on me if it goes south-”

“When it goes south.” Hudson interrupted,  glancing over, and silence ensued for a moment before he continued.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means a shot at Perseus.” Adler took the previously snuffed cigarette that Hudson had snatched from his mouth, relighting it. “You had the power to stop this, y’know. This isn’t all my fault.”

He was right.