Bell Call Of Duty Cold War Novels & Stories

Bringing out her phone from her purse, Ariel notice that it ran out of battery which made her curse loudly. " Hmmm , sorry to disturb but my phone is out of battery can you help me call" , Ariel asked. Walking back to his post ,he called the people from inside to confirm if their new madam was expecting anyone, confirming he indicated for them to pass through the gate which he opened up for them. Getting down from the cab after paying her fee , Ariel was escorted to the sitting room area to wait ,as she walked in she was awed by what she saw , the whole place was screaming of wealth , from the furniture to the size everything was giving what it was meant to give.

I didn't want my team dying because of me. I plucked out my phone which I had tucked between my boobs. I opened it and the 'no signal' sign greeted me again. I tapped okay so I could have a clear view of my wallpaper. It was the picture I took of Callan...with the colorful dicks on his face. I smiled as I looked at him, sleeping soundly. I missed him so much...I wanted to go back to him so much.

Beep! Beep! Beep! I groan into my pillow, blindly grabbing beneath it in search of my phone to quiet the blaring alarm waking me from my peaceful dreams. I grasp the smooth metal in my fingers, flicking the offending sound off, and let my arm flop back down to the bed. It's only six, I could do with ten more minutes of sleep. With that in mind, I burrow back into my covers ready to return to the comfort of sleep when, the creaking of my door fills my quiet space. I crack an eye open, and the next thing I know, Audrey has thrown herself down on my bed, pinning me in a tight hug and disrupting any more rest I was hoping to get.

He's not kidding. I nod. "Dinner's ready." *** 4am. The cabin door rattles with three loud bangs, followed by another three, and then another. It makes me wonder who the hell would come here this early in the morning and why they’re being so demanding. I rush downstairs to find Oliver behind the door and when he opens it, two large men stand glaring at him. “The doorbell is just as effective, you know,” he says sarcastically. “We’re looking for a lady named Bella,” one of them says ignoring his tone, while the other peaks into the house over Oliver’s shoulder. My heart skips as his eyes land on me.

He tightened his grip on the phone. “All right, Cassandra,” he whispered coldly. “If it’s war you want… I’ll come for you myself.”

The blizzard was a white wall of rage as the blacked-out snow vehicle crept up the mountainside. Site 6 was buried beneath layers of Siberian ice, a forgotten relic of the Cold War now repurposed for something even darker. Sophia sat beside Rafael in the back of the armored crawler, her breath fogging in the freezing air. She wore insulated tactical gear, a pistol at her thigh, and a serrated blade at her hip. But it wasn’t the cold or the looming danger that chilled her. It was the silence. The stillness before an unseen storm.

"Is the man who unintentionally sold the codes to the back door." "You're lying!" I moved to pull the phone away, my heart hammering against my ribs. "He loves those children! He would never—" "The moment you turn that on, you send a beacon to every Volkov mercenary within fifty miles," Caleb growled. He didn't just take the phone. He wrenched it from my grip with a force that sent me reeling back against the limestone wall. He didn't hesitate. He swung the device against the jagged edge of a rock outcropping.

I woke up the next day feeling cold. Marco poured a bucket of cold water on me. "Aren't you supposed to be awake by now?" He asked. I lifted my body and tried to stand up. "What do you want?" I asked and he held my wrist and pressed it. I winced in pain before he released it. "You have a package to deliver for me." He eyed me. "Why can't he send it to DHL?" I asked myself. "What package?" I asked and i got a slap in the face.

Another pause — listening to the voice on the other end. His jaw flexed. “Don’t.” He ended the call without waiting for a reply. For a moment, he remained standing there, phone still in his hand, breathing measured, and controlled. Then he set it down carefully, as if any sudden movement might crack the composure he’d rebuilt piece by piece. He turned toward the window, gaze unfocused, the city beyond blurred and distant. Whatever lingered from the call sat heavy in his chest, unwelcome and unresolved. When he finally returned to his work, the irritation from earlier hadn’t faded. It had sharpened to a whole new degree instead.

After that night, the cold war officially began. Normally, even if I pushed him away, Hudson would inevitably gravitate back to me. Even if he just glanced my way, he would subtly maneuver himself to keep me in his line of sight. But now, he treated me with the cold, ruthless efficiency of a stranger. Even when handing out rations, he didn't spare me a second glance. Things were going exactly as I had planned, but I didn't feel relieved at all.