"Okay, here's what I know," said Pembrose, now sitting in the Paris warehouse. "He's an extractor, he works solo, and his name is Jaqard."
"Whoa, wait up there," piped in Eames. "I've met an extractor named Jaqard. He's from the Near Middle East, if memory serves. I've worked with him." Everyone stared at him. "What? I made some documents for him once. He paid well enough. We were in Sarajevo at the time. That's all I know. Seriously."
"What's his specialty? Does he have one?" asked Arthur. "Dom and I used to do high-risk runs. My first partner was big on elaborate dreamscapes. Do you know anything about this guy's methods?"
Jack turned to him. "All I know is that he's brutal. He does everything by force, which is quick, effective, and easy if you're good at it. And he is. He tried to get me two weeks ago. I was in my apartment, and he got me into a PASIV. You guys were subtle with your dream. You got pretty far. He wasn't. His dream consisted of a street at night, a taxi, and questioning at gunpoint."
"What was the clue with him?" asked Eames.
"I saw the same building four times in a row without us turning. His architect must have been pretty lazy. Anyway, I realized I was in a dream, and my subconscious tore him apart. I don't think he'll make that same mistake again."
"Who's to say that he'll try? Usually, trying to extract from someone after you've failed is an even riskier operation than the first. He might not be so anxious to repeat failure."
"Oh, no, not this one. He'll keep going until he gets it or he's dead. He's a pit bull who only barely listens to whatever poor individual holds his leash temporarily." Jack looked dark.
"How do you know that? You said you only met him briefly," said Ariadne.
"You can tell a lot about a man by their methods," said Arthur. "Take Cobb for example. His structure of command, using things he says never to do, taking risks, keeping secrets. He usually works alone or with a small group. Also, anxiety issues because of Mal. I knew most of that before you told me what happened in Limbo," said Arthur.
Pembrose froze. "You worked with Dominic Cobb?"
The whole room turned tight and tense.
"Well, some unexpected revelations. You worked with Cobb, you stole with him, one of you at least ended up in Limbo somehow, and Cobb must be either dead, comatose, or retired."
"How d'you know that?" asked Eames. "He could still be going, for all we know."
"Not the Cobb I know. He knew the risks of that business, and tended to keep his team when practical. I lost touch with him after Mal died, but I worked with Cobb when shared dreaming was in its infancy.
"There were a team of us- Martine d'Gaus, a psychologist specializing in dream science; myself, specializing in psychochemistry; Dominic Cobb and his wife, Malorie, who did most of the physical testing; Mal's father Miles, architect; and Rocia Alviano, technical engineer. With financial backing from NATO, we worked on a virtual-reality simulation that relied on 'passive consciousness', or the ability to dream lucidly. We quickly realized that it wasn't very useful unless people could share it, so I developed a chemical that allows for synchronized brain function- shared dreaming.
"It wasn't very good at first, but we developed it quickly. The Cobbs were invaluable to our research, because they tested everything, with every possibly variable. They were very good, and were eventually able to bring us in, showing the other four of us how it worked from the inside. After that point, NATO was satisfied with the results and began using to train its forces. It wasn't enough for us, though.
"The project grabbed us, in ways none of us expected. Now that the technology is more widespread (if still in its niche), we were able to continue working on it, refining it. Some didn't. Apparently, it drove Mal insane. I never got the details. Her death made Cobb run, upon learning that the authorities blamed him. Miles returned to Paris, teaching architecture. Alviano has moved on to other things, but still updates the PASIV system in her spare time. Martine, well, he's my boss.
"And the rest is history. From what I gather, Cobb was one of the founding extractors, along with ex-military engineers who sold the technology to black markets. So, what happened?"
"He's retired. He went home to his children after our last job. It was enough to fix his charges and get him home. Her death and his guilt nearly drove him out of his mind. It came close to ripping our last mission apart. And it was a hard one," said Arthur.
"What job was it?"
"Inception."