Please note that this is just a bit of fun. Reviews are much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The wonderful Inception is owned by Christopher Nolan.
"….Mr Cobb?"
Cobb looked up from his fingers, tapping on the wooden table. His eyes flickered across the busy room. The dreamscape. Ariadne had spent weeks designing his casino, down to the very last light on the very last slot machine. Tables of every variation stretched across the room, blackjacks, poker, everything. Eames had taken Ariadne on a little 'educational trip' to Vegas to study every casino she could in preperation for this job. What they did that weekend, he'll never know. All he was grateful for was the fact that Arthur had insisted on going with them. Nobody wanted Eames to corrupt a brilliant Architect's mind with drinks and gambling. But it paid off. Cobb was just as impressed with Ariadne's work as the day he hired her. Deep red walls stretched across the walls, perfectly matching the black carpet reaching from bar to entrance.
Stretching across the side of the casino he could see a familiar face, sitting on a bar stool, playing with a loaded die.
"…You were saying?"
Cobb looked back to the man. The man's bodyguards did not faze him, as he knew that despite this man's belief, they were only projections. Figments of a subconcious.
"Yes, Mr Johnson, as I was saying..." He found his voice again."A man in your position must have something to hide. I would like to help. I am willing to train you, so that when your thoughts are threatened, you can protect yourself."
The businessman sat still, thinking the fictious offer over. He looked down into his drink, and spoke without looking at Cobb.
"Mr Cobb, I understand that you are a very skilled Extractor, but I don't know whether I trust you enough to protect my dreams. I've heard about what you do. And if rumours are to be believed, then I don't trust you, or the people you work with."
He looked up at Cobb, who had a look of disbelief on his face. Cobb then tightened his jaw before clearing his throat. Improvisation was clearly needed at this point.
"I understand Mr Johnson," he said, a light smile on his face, as if this were nothing more than a rejected sales call. "But I highly suggest you consider my offer. After all, you said it yourself, I am a very skilled Extractor."
With that, he got his drink, and walked up to the bar. Taking his place on a free bar stool, he mulled over the thoughts in his head. He wasn't panicking, he never panicked. After all, they'd had situations like this before. They'd dealt with bigger things. But never the less, he always began to feel unnerved when things didn't go according to plan. The squeak of the stool next to him caught his attention, as the figure cleared his throat, Cobb immediately knew who it was. A man in a suit, hair slicked back just as is always was.
"How did it go?" Arthur asked.
"Not good. Apparently we aren't the ones to be trusted," he scoffed. He turned to look at Arthur, who now looked frustrated. Not surprising, considering he had spent a large amount of time doing research on the Mark, only now to be denied access. Arthur didn't take kindly to failure.
"Damn it," he cursed quietly. "Where the hell do you think he gets this from?"
"Doesn't matter," Cobb brushed off the subject. "I'm going to get to the safe sooner rather than later. Keep an eye on them for me."
With that, he walked away. Arthur watched as he swiftly moved through the crowds of projections, towards the exit. Taking his eyes off the Extractor's back, he turned and looked down into his glass, unsatisfied. No doubt the Mark was suspicious, and by now the subconcious would be conjuring up some agressive projections. Not that he wasn't prepared, he just had hoped that this job would have been a bit more easy-going. He really didn't take to the idea of being shot in the head.
A hand on his shoulder jolted him slightly. "Trying to burn holes in that glass?"
Arthur sighed. Eames was not the person he wanted to talk to right now.
"No, we have a problem. Johnson is unwilling to open up to Cobb."
Eames took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass and swallowed. "Ah, don't worry about it, mate. We'll get the information we need. Patience is a virtue."
Eames stood up and patted Arthur on the back, with unnecessary force. Patience was not one of Arthur's strong points.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some gambling to do," the older man said, moving away from the bar.
Arthur narrowed his eyes at the Forger. "We're in a dream, Eames. Any money you cheat here is irrelevent."
"You misunderstand, Arthur-boy. It's not the winning that thrills people." Eames grinned widely. "It's the game."
Arthur gave him a small smirk. "Well then, good luck."
As the Forger walked away, Arthur turned. "Where's Yusuf and Ariadne?"
"No clue. Yusuf's no doubt enjoying the glorious world of faux casinos. Ariadne's probably lost as a ball in high weeds." He then walked away towards the poker table. Arthur felt slightly queasy. He always felt uneasy when things didn't go to plan. Watching the Mark, he saw his disappointing loss at the fictitious blackjack table, where he stormed away in agression. Arthur eyed him closely as he walked through the path of various slot machines and playing tables, probably trying to find a good place for his next game. To Arthur's sudden dismay, with a sudden turn he walked towards the emergency exit.
"What's he doing?" Arthur whispered to himself. Johnson and his bodyguards walked out the door. The same door that Cobb had walked out of.
Quickly in action, he left his drink on the table and rushed from his seat and quickly started weaving his way in and out of dressed-up projections. Trying to avoid direct physical contact with them, he made his way though the rows of machines, tables and other various gambling areas, which were all far too crowded for his convenience. His eyes swayed to every corner of the room, every door, every figure until he spotted the familiar petite brunette he was looking for. Running forward, he brushed the shoulders of several projections who shot him cold looks. When he reached her, he placed a light hand on her arm.
"Ariadne," he breathed.
Ariadne turned, and seemed relieved as soon as she saw the Point Man. But as soon as she saw the frustrated look in his eyes and automatically knew something was wrong, her expression grew grim.
"What is it?"
"Johnson just walked out. Cobb's up there," he explained as quickly as he could manage.
Panic flashed across her eyes. "Why would he leave this room?"
"He doesn't have a reason to." Arthur's jaw tightened. "Unless he knows."
"Will Cobb have time to find the safe?" she asked, her voice slightly higher than usual.
"…I don't know. Let's hope so." He reached forward and placed an assuring arm on her shoulder. "I'm going to find Cobb, I need you to look for Eames and Yusuf. If the projections start converging, find us upstairs."
Barely staying to hear her response, he practically sprinted towards the exit, praying that he wouldn't find too much trouble. As he pushed open the door, instead of an expected exit into a street or a backalley, it led into an regal staircase, palettes of dark purples and golds. Ariadne and him had designed his dreamscape together so that the casino would led straight onto a hotel staircase. An elegant diversion so that they could make a quick transfer. Arthur thought it was pure genius. Running up the stairs at full pace, he made his way into a hallway filled with numbered doors. Eames had made it so that the safe was located in room number 528. Nobody else appreciated the joke.
Finally locating the gold-plated numbers, he pulled out his gun from behind his waistband and pulled back the safety. Drawing a breath, he kicked open the door and stiffened.
The Mark, Johnson, had a gun pointed towards Cobb, who was clearly in the process of mid-opening the safe.
"I know we're dreaming, Mr Cobb," he muttered under his breath.
Arthur locked eyes with the Extractor before swinging his arm around and firing a shot, successfully taking down guard number one. Arthur was quick and a good aim, so he easily fired a second bullet into guard number two's skull before he even had a chance to take out his weapon. The sound of two bodies hitting the floor echoed through the room. He quickly took his aim at Johnson, locking eyes with Cobb. However, Cobb shook his head, so Arthur let his arm fall in defeat.
Johnson looked Arthur in the eyes, obviously trying to give him some sort of intimidation. Arthur, however, was unaffected. It took a lot more to make the Point Man feel uncomfortable.
"Wonderful aim, Arthur," he said, wearing a discusting fake smile. Arthur's eyes flickered back to the Extractor's momentarily. "Unfortunately I will not be requiring your services."
"Mr Johnson…" said Cobb. "I hate to spoil your fun, but it seems you don't really have a choice here. You're out numbered from 1-5. You have no choice but to give us the information we need," he said, wearing a small smile.
Johnson simply chuckled and let his arm fall. "How wrong you are, Mr Cobb. You see, I'm not outnumbered at all."
At that moment, the door room swung open, sending a sickening bang throughout the room. Arthur swung round instantly and readied his aim towards whoever the intruder may be. But instead of any basic projection, three familiar figures landed on the floor with a thump. Arthur looked down and saw his teammates on the ground, in a rush of panic and confusion. Eames rose from the floor and brushed off his suit shoulder, before offering his hand to the tiny Architect.
Arthur then turned his attention to the figures standing above them. There were three, each one equipped with a gun of their choice. The first was tall, a stance that any body builder would envy. The second was shorter, but still could easily beat the average Joe in a fight, whilst the third could only be described as weedy in comparison. Then a fourth walked in. Black hair and bright blue eyes. An air of confidence (far too much, Arthur noted), and long strides that quickly brought him into the room and past Arthur.
Looking to Cobb for support, Arthur was unsure whether to shoot, stand or run. No response from Cobb confirmed that he was just as confused as him.
Then, a quick movement sent everything bounding out of control. The black haired man lifted his arm and aimed it at Johnson, who stood calmly in place.
Seeing events unfold, Cobb reached forward. "No!"
As the shot rang out an all too familiar sound, and soon, Johnson's body hit the floor, his blood now staining the perfectly clean, cream carpet. For a moment, everything was silent. Cobb turned to the black haired man, furious.
"What the hell is going on?" he spat, pointing to the body. "You just woke up our Mark!"
The intruder laughed, a deep, haunting laugh, sending shivers up the spines of both Arthur and Cobb.
"That's where you're wrong, Mr Cobb," he spoke, in an almost mocking tone. "Everything went perfectly to plan."