Thanks for all the support! It seems like everyone really is enjoying the story! I appreciate all the reviews. Taking those few seconds to leave your thoughts really means a lot, and reminds me that there are people who like to read this story. I hope January is treating everyone well! It's chilly up here by me… Sorry this chapter is more of a filler and is short, but I figured you should see what the boys are up to one more time. Cheers!

Chapter 9

Arthur stared blankly at the phone in his hand. He silently clicked the redial button with his thumb, waiting for Ari or someone else to pick it up. He waited as it rang, counting the number of times in his head. Once it reached fifteen rings, he hung up.

Then, he spun quickly and held out the silver device to Dom. "Track it."

Dom shook his head. "I don't have the means to do it." When Arthur continued to hold it out, ignoring what Dom said, he continued, "I don't have the technology, Arthur. If no one is picking up on that line, I can't do anything."

Arthur's fingers clenched tightly around the phone. "Bullsh-"

Eames stood from the chair he had sat down in. "Then call the head of NCS, or whoever's number they gave you for emergencies. You'd think the bloody CIA would give us some help on this."

Dom frowned. "This really doesn't classify as an emergency, though. She's willingly staying away from us, and-"

"Christ, Dom!" Arthur shouted. "What needs to happen to classify as a fucking emergency? Have you already forgotten that our hotel was demolished, and Ari was inside while it happened? Or how about how we've crossed into a new territory of being hunted? Wiedoff's men and Russians. Not to mention, we seemed to have lost Yusef as well. Any idea what to do about him? Shouldn't we be looking for him just as much?"

Dom's face reddened, and he snarled, "You're not the only one who wants to find them, Arthur. I do too."

"Do you?" Arthur said with just as much venom. "Because it seems to me that Wiedoff is more focused on finding her than you."

Steam was practically bursting out of Dom's ears, and his fists clenched tightly. He opened his mouth to retort, but Eames interrupted. "This is wasting time. Dom, just call them. It's the least they could do. Haven't been much help lately, anyway."

His teeth were bared in anger, but Dom turned sharply on his heel and walked away to make the call.

Eames's eyes flicked to Arthur. He said quietly, "That was uncalled for before."

Arthur refused to meet his gaze. "Was it? I feel like all we do is leave her alone." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This disheveled look was something Eames had never seen on the point man. "I swear to God, if something happens to her…"

"Nothing will. She'll be fine." Eames says soothingly, not sure if he believed it himself.

Eames could hear Dom speaking quietly to an agent on the phone, catching only bits of the conversation. "… pinpoint her location… Yes, our architect…. we don't have a few hours…"

He tuned out. They'd get their answer soon enough, one way or another.

Arthur and Eames sat in silence. Well, rather Eames sat; Arthur paced the room like a caged animal.

Finally, Dom's phone snapped shut. His shoulders were tense, and he spoke tersely to the other two. "Knocknaheeny. Right outside a bar called the Holyhill Inn. The agent on the line gave us the number."

He flicked his phone open once again, dialing quickly. He waited a few seconds until someone picked up. "Hello? Yes, we just got a phone call from a friend outside the bar. She needed a ride. Can you tell me if there is a dark haired woman, short…"

The person on the other line was responding, and a crease formed between Dom's eyebrows. He answered as politely as he could. "Well, could you check outside? It was only about ten minutes ago… Yes, I'll hold."

Arthur wanted to ask the obvious question, but he bit his tongue and waited for Dom to finish.

When the person on the line returned, Dom almost shouted, "Are you sure? You checked everywhere?" As he listened to the man on the other line, his face drained of color. He didn't even bother saying his thanks as he hung up.

Dom was eerily quiet. He simply said, "Get your stuff," while he packed up his own items.

Eames broke the silence. "Dom. Where are we going? Will you, for one fucking time in your life, tell us what's going on?"

His teeth were clenched, and his movements were jerky. "They didn't see her. She wasn't in the bar, but apparently they found a bit of blood on the side of the payphone."

Eames blew a big breath out of his cheeks. Arthur was on his feet immediately. "Did they call the police?"

Eames snorted as he packed the rest of his gear. "Knocknaheeny isn't the type of place they'd be calling the police."

Arthur whirled around and gave the chair next to him a sharp kick. "Goddamnit!" He yelled, before stalking off to gather the rest of their gear.

Neither of the other men had any words of comfort to offer this time.