Hello, readers! Sorry it's taken a couple weeks for another chapter. I have a Boondock Saints story that I'm working on that I got caught up in! Check it out if you've ever seen the movie, although it's DEFINITELY not your average BDS fanfic. Once again, thank you for the reviews! I enjoy reading every single one of them, and I hope you all like where I'm going with the story. I am so honored that some of you have listed me as a favorite author or this as a favorite story. Thank you! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!
Chapter 8
Ari had rode the bus for an hour and a half, watching for any signs that someone suspicious was on it with her. She had twitched as the older man in the back with salt and pepper hair had moved past her to get off at his stop. She chewed the inside of her lip every time the mother of the little boy with the toy airplane would scold him for not sitting in his seat. She had eyed a man in a dark suit suspiciously for so long it must have made him uncomfortable because he got off a few stops back and sat down at the bus stop to wait for the next one.
The traffic in cork was absolutely terrible, and it was only worse that the bus had to stop and pull over every couple of blocks. Ari had her hood pulled up, and ducked her head every time a new passenger came on. She set her bag on the seat next to her, hoping to avoid the possibility that someone might try to sit with her.
They passed St. Anne's Church, the bus squeezing through the narrow streets. She had been able to see the lime and sandstone structure from far across the city. A Butter Museum passed by quickly, peaking her interest for a few seconds before her anxiety returned in an overwhelming force. Part of Ari liked how little room there was to maneuver in these streets, and how close the buildings seemed. It made a small part of her feel protected and sheltered. The other part of her felt like a trapped animal, with no open spaces to flee to if she was cornered.
She glanced at her watch as she heard the Shandon bells toll, and realized it was already eight o'clock. Ari had spoken with the driver, after she worked up the courage to leave her seat, and he had said this bus line went as far as Knocknaheeny. It was still about 10 minutes away, but she packed up her stuff and headed towards the front, pushing past the people who had piled on.
When she reached a spot next to the driver, she asked, "Excuse me, but where is the nearest pay phone at the next stop?"
He gave her a strange look in the mirror that faced the passengers. "Don't ye have a mobile?"
Of course. Everyone had cell phones. Who on earth would use a pay phone anymore?
Ari sighed and shook her head. The driver looked puzzled for a moment, then said slowly, "There's a pub up ahead, Flyin' Bottle-"
His accent was so thick, and the chatter on the bus was loud. Ari interrupted, "The Flying what?"
The driver gave a short laugh. "You're obviously not from here are ye, lass?"
He seemed kind, so Ari smiled. "No, just here for business."
"Well the pub's name is Holyhill Inn, but all the Norries know it as the Flyin' Bottle. Ask for that if you get lost. They should have a phone box just outside."
Ari felt as if she needed a translator. "Norries?"
"Aye. Folks from the north side o' Cork. We'll be comin' up on Harbour View road shortly. Walk a few blocks down and ye should see it."
She nodded her head in thanks, gripping her bag tightly to her. It was getting dark, and the streets here did not have as many streetlights.
The driver kept a watchful eye on her in his mirror. As the bus began to slow he finally said, "Keep yer eyes open round here. Bit of a dodgey area. Lot o' bad eggs willin' to snatch a lass such as yerself."
"Thank you." Ari whispered quietly as she stepped off the bus. When she glanced back, the driver was watching her with soft eyes and he raised a hand of farewell. Then he closed the doors and pulled away.
Ari pulled her jacket around her tightly, and began hurrying down the sidewalk. A single street lamp lit each block, and her shoulders hunched every time she walked under the light. She almost preferred the dark; less chance of her being spotted.
It was more than a 'couple' blocks, but finally Ari spotted a neon sign on a brick building ahead. "The Holyhill Inn" shone brightly in the darkness. It had a bright blue fence surround its parking lot, and shouts of laughter could already be heard.
She turned the corner in the bar's parking lot, and her eyes locked onto a payphone on the side of the bar. A light shone above it, and Ari grimaced. She might as well put a sign over head, but it was all she had. It was getting late, and she didn't think anyone had followed her.
She pushed the money in, but paused before she dialed. Who should she call? Dom? No, he would have left or destroyed his phone just as she did when he found out he was being tracked. Arthur?
Something clenched in the pit of Ari's stomach. No, she could not call the point man. The sound of his voice alone might send her back to them. Besides, she needed to explain the (very vague) plan she had in mind: distract Wiedoff, track him on her own, then call the rest of the team when she knew exactly where he was and what he was up to.
She had almost convinced herself it would be that simple.
If she tried to explain this to Arthur, he would only talk over her, insisting that she was not capable of doing this on her own. Despite that she knew she really was not prepared or qualified for this, the fact that she he would say that irked her.
She dialed the next number she could think of. He picked up almost immediately.
"Ariadne?"
Eames's voice was strained with worry, and her heart tightened with guilt. "Yes, it's me." She could hear raised voices in the background, and she almost shouted, "Don't let Arthur on the phone!" Her voice had sounded shrill even to her own ears, so she added quickly, "Or Dom."
"Alright, Ari where are- will you bloody calm yourself?-" He shouted at someone on his side of the phone. "Sorry. Ari, where on earth are you?"
She pointedly chose to ignore this, and instead said, "Look, I honestly think you guys should get out of Cork, at least for a while."
"Ari, I swear, if you're going to suggest that you-"
Ari butted in, "I'm not going to try to take him down on my own. I promise. But if I can distract him enough you will have more time to track him. Plus, I might actually figure out what he's up to."
Ari had absolutely no idea how she would begin to track Wiedoff, much less discover what he's up to, but she didn't share this with Eames. To be honest, she didn't have a clue what she was doing. She was an architect, not a lone ranger.
"Ari, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Are you at least still in Cork? Can you tell me that?"
She sighed. "Yes, I'm still in Cork. I'm a ways away, though. It was the first thing I thought to do." Ari thought back to being in the hotel room, and frowned. "Yusef wasn't in the hotel room when I went up there."
Eames was silent on the phone for a while. She almost thought they were disconnected when he said quietly, "Yes, we figured as much. He wasn't at the café either. We haven't been able to locate him yet."
A faint voice could be heard in the background saying, "This better not be like how it was with Nash."
Dom's voice was softer, and she couldn't hear his response. Instead, she said to Eames, "I took some of your money, by the way. Sorry I didn't tell you."
Eames made a noise that sounded like a mixture of laughter and impatience. "Oh forget the money, sweetheart. That really is the last thing on our minds at the moment."
Ari watched as a single car drove down the deserted street, and followed it with her eyes until its taillights were out of sight. She almost missed everything Eames was saying.
"Wait, sorry, what?"
Eames sighed. "Let us come get you. Please. You've got a bullseye tattooed on your back, so the last thing you should be is alo-Will you get your hands-"
"Eames?" She could hear a slight scuffle.
"Ari?" A slightly breathless voice said, and her heart shot into her throat.
"Arthur." She croaked out, still trying to swallow over the pulse beating in her throat.
His voice was low with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Just peachy."
She could practically see him rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Are you hurt, is what I mean?"
Ari could still feel her ankle and hipbone throbbing, and said quietly, "I'll live."
He whispered in a low voice, "Please, let me come get you. I don't want you out there on your own." She had never heard his voice take this tone, almost pleading. "This isn't just Wiedoff you're dealing with. The Russians are involved, and damnit, they're good at what they do."
"Arthur, it's you they're all after. I'm just a minor inconvenience." She murmured.
"Exactly. If they have no use for you, you're in more danger being away from us."
He was whittling away at the plan she formulated. What if she hadn't drawn Wiedoff's attention away from them? What if she was just distracting her own team? She wouldn't be able to live with that knowledge if something happened to them.
"Arthur-"
"Ari, please."
Ariadne could feel her resolve fracturing. She needed to stick to her plan. It was the only plan she had. So she did the only think of.
"No." She said quietly, and hung up.
Ari rested her forehead against the payphone, and took a deep shuddering breath.
She was completely unprepared for the hand that grabbed the back of her head by her hair and slammed her face into the corner of the box.
