After the harrowing attack on their safe house by the Pantheon, the team dispersed like leaves carried by a fierce wind. Russell Adler, ever the protector, took the injured Frank Woods to yet another hidden refuge, hoping for a moment of reprieve.

As Woods drifted into consciousness, he was greeted by the soft patter of tiny feet padding across the floor and the familiar warmth of Adler’s voice, floating in from another room.

“Come back here, you little rascal. You haven’t finished your breakfast!” Adler’s tone was a mix of exasperation and affection.

Before Woods could fully grasp his surroundings, a small figure launched onto the bed with surprising agility, landing squarely on his chest. A chubby little finger pressed gently against his lips, signaling for silence.

“Shhh. Don’t tell Daddy I’m here,” the child whispered, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Just then, Adler burst into the room, his expression shifting from annoyance to delight as he scooped up the child, who giggled in response.

Woods blinked in disbelief, taking in the scene before him. “You’ve got a kid now, Russ? One of your flings come back to haunt you?” His tone was teasing yet edged with curiosity.

“Not exactly,” Adler replied, his voice softening as he cradled the child. “This one’s different. Their mom was… Bell.”

Stunned, Woods froze, his mind racing. “Bell? The Bell? The one you mind-controlled?” Memories of their past encounters with the enigmatic operative flashed through his mind, intertwining with the gravity of Adler’s revelation.

Adler nodded solemnly, his eyes betraying no hint of regret or shame for his complicated past.

As Woods sat up in bed, he studied the child more closely, the small face resembling a blend of innocence and mischief. A slow smirk curled at the corners of his mouth.

“Lucky for them they got her genes and not yours, Russ,” he quipped, the gravity of the situation lightening momentarily under the weight of friendly banter.