A/N: Narrative style influence by Reservoir Dogs, which is a great movie. The idea of never seeing the action directly interested me. Also, Tim Roth is a hella interesting guy to watch act.

"Dom." Arthur's voice cuts through the cacophony of arguments as sharply as one of his knives. Calm descends once again in response to the cool self-assurance in Arthur's voice, and the team takes a moment to remember they're professionals no matter how fucked up the situation may be. Arthur waits until everyone has gotten ahold of themselves once more and states, "I'm bringing in the heavy hitters."

Dom's eyebrows raise. "Both of them?"

"It seems appropriate."

"Care to fill the rest of us in?" Eames drawls, arms crossed firmly over his chest. Yusuf nods emphatically.

Arthur pulls out his phone and walks into another room in the warehouse; Dom sighs and sits down at the planning table. "Arthur always has contingency plans. One of those options includes people who can help us out with… real-world enforcement. The kinds of things that either require more manpower than we can provide or a more specific skillset than those we possess."

Ariadne winces. "And being Arthur, the kinds of people he can find to solve our 'real-world problems' are…"

"As scary as he is?" Yusuf offers.

"The best in the business," Dom counters.

Eames leans against the table. "So what kind of men are we talking here? Ex-military? Organized crime?"

"Neither. Both." Dom shrugs. "The heavy hitters are ghosts in the system. All I know is they're who Arthur calls in when we run into… well, situations like the one we have now." Dom checks his watch and frowns. "I have to get going. Keep someone by the phone at all times; I'll be in touch." He tucks a gun away into his suit and heads for one of the numerous alternative exits Arthur always ensures are in their pre-job locations.

Once he's gone, Yusuf takes a seat and meditatively folds his hands in front of his chin. "Well, this ought to get interesting."

They waits in silence until Arthur comes back. He surveys the room and nods once, definitively. "They're on their way."

"And how many are coming?"

"Two."

"Two?"

"Two."

"Well, you certainly are efficient, darling."

"Mind on the job, Mr. Eames."

"I wouldn't dream of anything else."

The first heavy hitter the team meets is, contrary to his title, a whipcord thin man with a narrow face and arrowed nose to match. He greets Arthur like an old friend and throws his trench coat onto their workspace, smirking as they glance in askance at the clatter of metal it issues.

"And this must be the team! Wonderful to meet you all; Arthur talks a lot about you." Ariadne snorts into her coffee, and Arthur's contact acknowledges it with a wry smile. "Or at least, as much as Arthur is wont to talk about subjects not pertaining to the job at hand. So, who is everyone?"

Arthur gives introductions. "Ta," Eames says. "Always nice to meet a fellow countryman."

Ben smiles. "I'm sure."

Shortly after that, Arthur and Ben step away to discuss the situation at hand. Eames follows along because – "I may no longer be military but that doesn't mean my brain doesn't work. Quit being so jealous, precious, and share."

"Well," Yusuf says. "Not what I was speculating."

Ariadne hums in agreement and swirls the dregs of her coffee around the cup. "I was expecting more… muscle."

"I think he makes up for muscle in hardware. Pity he didn't leave his coat behind; I want to know what goodies he has tucked away in there."

Ariadne sighs. "I don't care what he brought as long as it helps us fix things. I'm going stir-crazy staying here all the time."

"I know what you mean," Yusuf says sympathetically. Then he claps her on the shoulder. "Have I told you yet about the time I accidently mistyped an order form and purchased fifty liters of a very corrosive acid instead of fifty milliliters? It's quite humorous, especially since I lacked the appropriate equipment to store all of it."

The second heavy-hitter fits the role more so than Ben: his frame is dense with muscle, face as square as his shoulders, and he carries himself with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly where every part of his body is. Instead of a trench coat laden with metal he wears exceptionally ordinary clothes – the kind of outfit one could see any city block. He also doesn't smile as he surveys the team in front of him.

"This is Jason," Arthur says. He introduces the team. Jason nods wordlessly and doesn't seem inclined to make conversation.

"Where are you from, then?" Eames asks.

Jason pauses in thought for a moment. "New York City."

"Oh," Ariadne says. "That's a nice city."

Jason looks at her silently. Ariadne shifts uncomfortably.

"That is totally not a New York accent!"

Yusuf shushes Ariadne with a quick look to the door. In a quieter tone she continues, "I've lived in New York like for years. That's not New York."

"You only heard him say three words; perhaps it's just not as apparent."

She scoffs. "What he said? That's Midwest, all the way."

Yusuf shrugs and leans against the table. "The only think I can tell you is that's definitely not an Indian accent."

"His accent is probably as real as his name."

Yusuf hums in agreement and walks over to his table. "Come here and hold this steady, I need to mix these together quickly or the compound will not be as effective."

Eames finishes his summation of the plan with a grin. "It's going to be quite fun." Arthur tilts his head in consideration before nodding in agreement.

Ariadne raises an eyebrow. "Fun. O-kay. If you say so."

"Well," Eames amends. "My parts are. I can't speak for the others."

"Where are Ben and Jason?" Yusuf looks around but aside from the group collected around the table, the warehouse was seemingly empty.

"Ben went to get supplies and Jason is doing prep work," Arthur says. "They'll be back shortly. Then we can call Dom and fill him in."

"So what, two days tops before we can scram?"

"If we stick to the plan."

Eames scoffs. "If things go to plan I'll have to check my totem."

"Quit being so cynical, Mr. Eames."

"Pinch me, dear."

"Well that didn't go to plan," Dom sighs.

Arthur throws his jacket onto the table before throwing himself into the chair. "You know I hate to agree with Eames, but if things ever do go to plan I'm checking my totem next chance I get." He leans back with a groan and stretches his arms out until his spine cracks, then stretches his legs as well. "However, the situation is handled: Ariadne and Yusuf are safely away, the threat has been neutralized, our exit plan is sound, and the warehouse is nearly cleared out. We accomplished the mission. That's what counts."

Dom murmurs in agreement.

"That's always what counts," Ben calls. "The endgame." He and Jason walk up to the table, each one carrying a small travel bag.

Arthur stands up. "Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen."

"We appreciate it," Dom adds.

Ben shakes each of their hands in turn. "Glad to help a friend in need."

"Dom," Jason says. "Arthur." He nods at them in turn. "I'll be in contact."

"I'll have the information," Arthur assures.

"If you can't reach Jason, you know how to find me," Ben adds. "I'm going to see if Jason could use my help with his problem, so I'll be able to relay the message."

Arthur smiles – thin, but still a genuine smile. "I'll do that. Take care."

"And contact us if you need our kind of help," Dom adds. "We owe you one."

Jason considers it as he hitches his bag over one shoulder. "I just might do that." Then he and Ben walk out, side by side.

"And so the plucky young heroes set off to another daring adventure," Eames drawls from the shadows.

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Do shut up, Mr. Eames."