I have no knowledge of Egyptian geography, so any mistakes are mine.

Please leave a comment if you like….

Eames shook Yusef's hand roughly, practically dragging him inside the office. Two hours had been a long time to wait for the Chemist and Cobb could tell that Eames was getting impatient. The Englishman was wringing his hands and grinding his teeth, tense with nervous energy.

'Eames, sorry I couldn't get here any sooner,' Yusef put his bag down next to the table. 'You know how these corporate jobs are.'

'Meanwhile, Arthur is being held god knows where, probably being tortured if he's not dead already,' Eames shot back tersely. 'Now if you all don't mind, I'd like to go out and try and find my partner, all right?'

Yusef watched open mouthed as Eames stormed from the room. Cobb walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. 'Yeah, he's been like this for days. Let's go and find Arthur.'

Yusef nodded and followed Cobb out into the heat, Ariadne bringing up the rear. The Egyptian sunshine scorched down on their backs as they made their way to their vehicle, Eames already sitting in the driver's seat.

'We need to check the desert, it's the only place they could've taken him, unless they've taken him out of the country. And we need to check in on the mark; Ariadne, has he moved at all? Acting in any way suspicious?'

Ariadne shook her head, pushing her sweaty hair away from her eyes as she squinted at the Englishman, 'I haven't had eyes on the mark since this morning; my guess is he's holed up somewhere, now he knows that he's the target.'

Eames hummed and started to drive, screeching out of the car park and onto the busy road. Making his way away from the busy tourist area of the Valley of the Kings, he drove in the opposite direction, before winding his way through the streets towards a quieter, yet vast, patch of sandy desert. Before they left, Cobb had suggested that the Mark wouldn't want to draw attention to himself by causing a scene in front of tourists; it was much more likely that Arthur was being held away from prying eyes.

Eames got out the car and slammed the door behind him. He had a sick feeling in his gut, somewhere between half-starved and terrified. Why had he waited so long? He should have been out day and night in this desert, looking for Arthur. If Arthur didn't make it through this he would never forgive himself, he knew that much. The sand crunched under his feet as he stepped into the dunes, bringing his hand up to protect his eyes from the dust whipped up by the harsh wind. He looked off into the distance, scanning the horizon; he could see no buildings in any direction, nowhere that Eames thought could be hiding Arthur. No matter, he thought, striding forwards. He would walk right through this godforsaken desert and out the other side if it meant he would find Arthur at the end of it.

Without looking back to see if the others were following, he marched out into the sandy desert.

-x-

Arthur breathed shallowly through clenched teeth, his ruined nose swollen and blocked; he could barely open his eyes to see as his face rapidly bruised and swelled. After Woodruff had left, he had been visited by his oh-so-friendly guard, who had seethed at him as he was made to stand in the corner of the room, watching the Point Man. Arthur could hear him grunting and muttering every now and then.

Arthur tried to breath normally, but he was starting to seriously worry now. He knew he was going to be tortured as Cobol tried to find out where Cobb and the rest of the team where; he had been tortured before, and could handle it, mostly. But he had never been tortured by someone with a personal vendetta against him before. Sure, a Mark or two, normally inside of a Dream, would throw their weight around and try and get him to reveal who had employed him. The risk came with the job. But this was different; Woodruff was making this too personal, and Arthur could tell he was in some serious, deep trouble.

Wincing as he sniffed through his nose, Arthur's mind wandered to Eames. It must've been over a week since he was taken. Where was he? Had he given up looking? Arthur shook himself, pushing the negative thoughts away. Any minute now, he thought, Eames will be busting through that door in all his angry glory, and he would be safe.

Arthur's head snapped to the side as the door opened again, crashing against the wall. A man walked in, half his face covered by white material. He carried with him a dark blue holdall and Arthur's heart sank, filling his stomach with cold dread. The man said something to the guard, who stalked out of the room, returning a few moments later dragging a small wooden table behind him. The newcomer thanked him and placed the holdall on the table.

'I've been instructed,' he said in a thick accent Arthur couldn't place, 'to ask you where the rest of your team are. If you do not answer the question, I am then instructed to make you tell me. So, I suggest that you tell me.'

Arthur tried to form words from his dry mouth, lips sore and cracked. 'I'm not telling you anything,' he croaked.

The man sighed and nodded. 'I thought that would be the case. Well,' he clapped his hands and opened the holdall, pulling out a small pair of pliers.

Arthur felt his heartbeat speed up when he saw the instrument, but he forced himself to remain calm.

The man approached him, reaching out to grasp his right forearm.

'Let's get started then, shall we?'

-x-

'He's not here. He's not bloody here.'

Eames slammed the corrugated iron door and exited the tumbledown shack. Ariadne stumbled backwards as Eames pushed past her.

'Eames!' she shouted, turning and grabbing his arm. 'Just stop, alright. Just stop. We need to think, we need to look at the map again.'

'We're wasting time looking at that map! We've been looking for what, four hours now? We're no closer to finding him and it's getting dark. We need to keep moving!'

'You're no good to Arthur if you kill yourself looking for him.'

Eames stopped and looked at her; she looked unblinking back at him. He sighed and rolled the muscles in his neck.

'He's not here,' he murmured again, so quietly Ariadne almost didn't hear him. 'What if we don't find him? What if he's dead already?'

'You can't think like that; Arthur's tough, he'll make it through.'

Eames nodded and turned, making his way back to where Cobb and Yusef were standing. Yusef was studying the map, crossing off places they had already looked.

'There's nothing else in this area,' he said as Eames approached, 'about 10 miles east there's a small cluster of shacks; further than that, a few isolated crypts deeper into the desert. We could start there tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?' Eames turned to him, incredulous. 'Give me a torch and I'll go there now. Alone.'

'Why don't we head back into town and re-supply?' suggested Cobb. 'Tents, food, water, torches. Medical equipment for Arthur.'

Eames nodded, already on his way back to their vehicle.

'Come on then!' he called back. Cobb watched his rapidly diminishing back as he walked off. He knew of an old contact in Cairo that he could call on to help; Beni owed him a favour.

-x

Arthur hissed through the pain, his jaw and neck sore from clenching his teeth together. He closed his eyes again and the man moved forwards, extending the pliers to his little finger. He felt the now slick teeth grip his nail, and he held his breath.

He counted three seconds before his fingernail was brutally ripped from its bed, a shout of pain tore from his throat.

'You can make this stop,' his torturer, whom he had decided to call Half Face, on account of his white mask, told him, inspecting and then flicking his bloodied fingernail in his face. 'All I need is an address, somewhere where they can start looking.'

'Go to hell.' Snarled Arthur, forcing his breathing back under control. The ends of his fingers felt like they were on fire, yet painlessly numb at the same time.

The man tutted before flexing the pliers again. Arthur watched as Half Face came slowly closer and closer, until he filled his field of vision. 'There are more like me coming. More brutal, more unforgiving. You should tell me now and spare yourself the agony.' He leaned in closer, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Arthur spat blood in his face.

Half Face wiped the blood from his eyes and laughed. A shrill sound that set Arthur's teeth on edge. He laughed as he packed up his holdall, zipping it carefully. He was still chuckling unnervingly as he opened the door, slamming it behind him.

Finally, Arthur was left alone. His head swam with pain and thirst, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. His fingers throbbed, leaking blood onto the dirty floor.

The silence became deafening, filling his ears with a hollow, roaring sound. Somewhere, outside the door, someone turned a tap on. A steady dripping sound echoed around the room.

Arthur let out a groan. It was going to be a long night, he figured.

He tried not to imagine the horrors that awaited him in the morning.