Hey everyone. I must start by saying that this story is dedicated to FreedomIsNotFree! The best fan any writer could ever ask for. This was suppose to be a Christmas gift and it was also suppose to be a one shot; but it did not work out that way. Sometimes you just have to let the story take you on the adventure instead of the other way around. Anyway, MERRY CHRISTMAS Freedom. I hope you enjoy! :) And thanks for all of your support.
Unexpected:
"ARTHUR… ARTHUR!" Eames called desperately as his eyes and subconscious pulled his body away from the table before him; which had previously met his fist in a desperate act of anger.
'How could this have happened? Why, what mistake did I make? This didn't, couldn't, shouldn't have ever happened,' his mind raced to the beat of his heart.
'The signs should have been obvious; the rigid exterior, closed-off personality…' the world pulsed to the pace of his own being. Rate of breath elevated, Eames tried to maintain his composure. But how; how could he control his emotions over an issue such as this?
"AARRTHU…" but his hysteric call was cut off by:
"What! What in the entire expanse of this Earth could you possibly want?" Arthur gasp in irritation as he rounded the corner of the hallway, entering the room previously only occupied by Eames, a table, a suit case, and a few other things Arthur was uninterested in identifying. Eames was pacing nervously when Arthur first entered and then turned startled towards the door way that Arthur now occupied looking half disgusted.
Eames face twisted in accordance to shock and horror. He could barely control his breathing enough to respond.
"YOU MUST HAVE EATEN IT!" Eames shouted as his hand aimed for his head to run through the disheveled mass of hair of which part had fallen from its gelled back position to hang in his face.
Arthur stood slack, sarcasm and boredom lacing his composure.
"Eames, we don't have much time. We must finish gathering the equipment and leave - while we still can. So, if you are done with 'whatever'…," Arthur answered with a detached tone that lacked any interest in Eames sudden outburst for attention; his hand drawing a slight circle in the air before him. But while turning to leave, Arthur's departure was halted by Eames once again calling out.
"Arthur, Arthur this is very serious! You must have eaten the imagination-personality-dissolver-sushi," Eames burst in exasperation beginning to mockingly search his bag on the table behind him.
"Because seriously, it is not here!" Eames continued as he turned, looking disheveled and pulling on a pouty childish grin.
"Eames, we have no time for childish games…" Arthur shouted over his shoulder as a last thought, walking down the hallway that led back to the main room of the warehouse where turned off to his right into another side hallway before reaching the common room. He refused; he would not reward Eames for acting a fool by paying any mind to his antics.
Eames was now chuckling to himself as he finished gathering what held any interest for him.
"Arthur, Arthur…" Eames mumbled.
"So easy to rile," he continued to chuckle to himself.
"I still don't understand how I got involved with that stick-in-the-mud in the first place."
Eames tossed the strap of his worn leather sack over his shoulder before glancing the room over once more to ensure nothing was left behind that could be traced to himself or the rest of the team. Still shaking his head in amusement, Eames entered the main room of the warehouse.
"You didn't leave anything traceable behind did you?" Arthur questioned in a demanding tone as he came up behind Eames – quickly stepping around him.
"Hey, I thought you would for surely have died of boredom poisoning by now," Eames voiced smiling wickedly as he turned towards the counter occupied by a rumbling coffee pot.
"Shut up Eames. Can you take anything seriously? We have to get out of here and I would prefer to do it while breathing and not in a garbage bag," Arthur said in a deeply serious tone; raising his left eyebrow while glancing over his shoulder from his crouched position on the floor. Eames couldn't avoid the urge to 'play' a little more.
"Come now dear Arthur, a garbage bag fits your personality perfectly – plain and boring. Besides…" but Eames was cut off before he could finish.
"EAMES! I swear, if you don't SHUT-UP I am going to…" but Arthur didn't get to finish before Cobb cut in.
"Both of you just knock it off!" Cobb ordered as he walked into the room, his head down examining the different tickets he held in his hands. Arthur shot Eames a sharp glance as he released pent up irritation accumulated from Eames' actions by forcefully shoving a small tote into a larger one that was nearly full; receiving only a sly grin in reply. Letting his head swing slightly side to side in irritation, Arthur quickly glanced down at his hands while securing the content inside – a thick silver zipper ran the bag's length and a flap of fabric to lie over the zipper was held in place by several buckles – and then gave all of his attention to Cobb. Cobb looked up, eyeing Arthur and then Eames, and said:
"As you both know, the job is done and we were successful but that doesn't mean a darn thing. Nothing can be left behind and we must disappear quickly – fall off radar. Here are your train tickets Arthur," Cobb announced, reaching his left hand forward in the point man's direction.
"You scared of heights now Arthur?" Eames questioned with sarcastic sincerity.
"No Mr. Eames, I am just unwilling to share the same flight zone with you," Arthur carelessly answered as he retrieved his train tickets from Cobb. Arthur was going to France, perhaps Paris; he enjoyed the atmosphere of the society there – he also had some personal business that needed attending to. Something from the past that refused to leave him alone, always at the front of his mind; constantly pushing him to do what he would prefer to forget.
"I thank you much," Eames voiced as he quickly snatched his Delta Airline ticket to the states from Cobb's grasp. Cobb gave Eames a wary glance before looking to Arthur.
"The device shall stay with you…" seemed more a question than confirmation but Arthur replied with certainty.
"Yes, the PSIV device is already packed away. Don't worry, I will be able to keep it out of the wrong hands," Arthur confirmed with half grin as he clapped Cobb on the shoulder.
"Oh, are sure about that love? If I recall correctly, only moments ago you admitted to being a wuss scared of a good fight. Perhaps I should take it instead, we don't want to give our boy too much responsibility now do we Cobb?" Eames said winking in Cobb direction but keeping his focus on Arthur's reaction.
"Ha ha ha, very funny. I hate to disappoint but," once again Arthur was unable to finish his response. The sound of colliding medal vibrated throughout the entire building. Resonating through the air, it bombarded the team's ear drums before snaking up and down their spines. Arthur could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up before his eyes or mind was even able to comprehend what just occurred. All sound had been sucked away, leaving the raw ringing of what the team was soon to associate with hell.
"Eames, we didn't finish…" the man said, his tone accented by a cold maniacal tinge that reflected the occurrences of his past. The stare of the man standing before them was unfocused, such as one driven to madness from years of hidden torment. His clothes appeared worn and unclean, which was further confirmed by the stench of sweat and despair that now clouded the main room of warehouse; the unmistakable scents of cigar smoke, liquor, and dank places accompanied his aura. As the team was soon to find out, his appearance was an exact reflection of the state of his mental distress and, where he has come from and experienced. Stepping in from the door way, his gun wavered – unfocused and more dangerous that one beaded directly at its target – showing a slight limp on his left leg and his left shoulder was slack, drawn down towards the ground as if trying to ease persistent pain.
'Were? Why? How did he find me?' Eames thought to himself while carefully gauging the unstable man from his past.
The insane detached look that had captured Devi's expression over the time of his past experiences was a grave contrast to the adrenaline fed plans of disarmament and escape that now occupied Cobb's, Arthur's, and Eames's minds.
"Don't MOVE! Don't no body move," the man ordered. Arthur swallowed and then carefully glanced behind him. 'What the… who is this?... Told yah Eames!," were several random thoughts flying through Arthur's head. But at the forefront was fear for the two companions behind him.
Devi was positioned before the team. He had moved from the doorway and was now standing a few feet into the main room of the warehouse; the door shut behind him. Arthur was to his left and positioned in front of Cobb, who was more directly centered with the gun wielding maniac. Eames was placed at a distance behind both Cobb and Arthur, only part of him visible to Devi off of Cobb's right side. Though all at varying heights, each of the team had their hands up revealing flat open palms to their current captor.
"Eames, you fucking bastardish coward! Move out from behind your human shield. You never mind who you hurt do you?" Devi began. The tone of his voice told that what was to come was only the beginning of a deeply routed hatred that was finally going to be released from its confinement; causing as much havoc and despair as possible during the course of its life.
"Okay… okay Devi. Just take it easy," Eames cooed as he took several very slow short deliberate steps out from behind Cobb and directly into Devi's line of sight. Neither Arthur nor Cobb had ever seen Eames react to a situation in a way such as this. His posture was relaxed. He looked small – childish – but not the usual playful Eames that too often toyed with Arthur's patients. No. This Eames looked scared. It was very apparent that something had occurred between these two in the past of a severity so much greater than that of failing an extraction job or the like that the scenarios were not even comparable.
"You would sacrifice anyone for your own gain or selfishness, never giving them a second thought wouldn't you? WOULDN'T YOU?" Devi shouted with such force that spit flew from his mouth and his entire body shook in rage. Veins bubbled up under the skin on his neck and head as living devilish snakes; his face red. His gun was now carelessly flying around the room, never aiming at any specific object but ready to fire at whatever moved.
"Devi, I…" Eames attempted; again in a soft soothing voice that he hoped would begin to diffuse the situation.
"NO! NNOOO! I SHALL NEVER LISTEN TO YOU AGAIN. YOU DO NOT DESERVE LIFE. YOU DO NOT EVEN DESERVE HELL. This…," Devi continued to boil. He was pointing his gun in Eames direction as he carelessly let it wave up and down, his other hand carefully positioned on the hip he had swung out to the side.
"You amaze me you know that? Your lack of common human qualities is remarkable. You pay no heed to the choices you make," the tone was cold, heartless, and raving. Arthur nor Cobb dared move or speak, attempting to talk your way out of this situation would get you shot before you could utter your second word. Devi had one thing on his mind and they all knew it, revenge. He did not care about the personal cost and would cut down anyone who stood in his way. During all of his time dealing with similar characters, Cobb had learned this specific breed to be the most dangerous because they had nothing to lose; their life was over.
Sweat was gathering on Arthur brow and temples. His heart rate was elevated and true to his nature and occupation, he was desperately trying to devise a way they could get out of this situation. But no mistakes could be made, there was no margin for error; because in real life (unlike a dream), death was death and second chances were unheard of. Though try as he might, Arthur could not formulate even a single practical plan that was would safely distance the team from this lunatic - their probable future executioner.
