Disclaimer: I don't own Inception and I receive no profit from writing this story.

A/N: 80 reviews? *Dies* I have never had so many! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story, who's reviewed every chapter avidly, who's just barely started reviewing, and who's given me the best feedback that I've ever gotten for a story. You guys are awesome! This story is only possible because of you guys. Please keep up the reviews! I love them all and read them carefully. I take to heart everything you say and I really do need these reviews to keep me motivated. Can we break 100? That would be amazing! I honestly have never gotten such a great response to a story before, so thanks to everyone for giving me that. And thank you to everyone who's been advertising this story. I seriously think a lot of this story's success is due to you.

I do have a request to make. Does anyone that's reading this like to make a promotional vid for this fic? That would be awesome! If you're interested tell me in a review or send me a PM. Thanks again everyone!

Chapter 13

It seemed a little strange to see a pregnant woman screwing a silencer onto the end of a gun. Mal wasn't the type to let a little thing like being eight months into a pregnancy get in the way of work, but Arthur couldn't help but feel the slightest hint of uneasiness at seeing her here. Of course, it didn't help that she looked so out of place in her fancy gown, what with the tell-tale bump that had her walking and reacting slower than was safe for this situation. She didn't look at Arthur as she worked, her fingers still nimble and quick despite everything. When she finished she glanced around, then stowed the gun in her purse—he was amazed that it fit—before she finally met her protégé's gaze.

"Let's get out of here, quick," she said in a low voice, her eyes scanning the hall behind him to make sure no one was coming.

"How are you doing?" he asked as they walked. He followed close enough behind her that when she turned to glare at him for his impertinent question, her elbow struck him in the midriff.

"I'm fine," she said coolly. "We talked about this already, Arthur."

"Forgive me for being worried about the baby." His voice was full of sarcasm rather than apology. "I just don't think it's a good idea to be dream-sharing when you're pregnant."

"I've done it before," she reminded him, walking again, this time at a brisk pace that made Arthur have to lengthen his stride to keep up.

"That doesn't make it a good idea. I thought that's why you had to quit being Point—"

"Well, until you're ready to do it on your own," she said with an undertone of irritation, though her voice remained as lovely as ever, "I can't exactly quit, can I?"

"Touché." A smile touched his lips briefly. "But who says I'm not ready? I could have done this myself."

She laughed, lacing her arm through his as they emerged from the hall into the ballroom. "Don't be so sure of yourself," she murmured into his ear. "You've never completed a job on your own yet."

"You won't let me," he pointed out.

"Soon." She flashed her stunning smile across the room at their host. "In a month I'll be on maternity leave, and you'll have Point Man all to yourself."

Arthur couldn't decide if he was eager for that moment, or if he was dreading it.

"Smile," Mal commanded as their host approached them, emerging from a group of fawning women.

He was sure his smile seemed forced. Luckily, their host was far more concerned with Mal than with Arthur, and she was obviously the better actor. Her smile was genuine, it seemed, and when the gentleman raised her hand to his lips, her distaste for him didn't show through at all.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Madam," he said in a very sophisticated English accent.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Forester." Her voice was like honey.

"I'm afraid your name escapes me," Forester said, looking slightly embarrassed but in a way that seemed played up for effect. At least, to Arthur it seemed that way. "I'm terrible with names, drives my wife out of her mind."

"Marion Cotillard." The false name slipped off her tongue without the slightest hesitation, as though it really were her name. It sounded strange in Arthur's ears, but at the same time he could easily have believed the false identity if he didn't know better. "This is a dear friend of the family, Joseph Levitt. I hope you don't mind my bringing him here."

"Not at all," Forester said with a forced smile in Arthur's direction. "Where's your husband tonight, Mrs. Cotillard?"

"I'm afraid he is unwell this evening. Joseph was kind enough to escort me in his place."

"You're very fortunate." Forester was almost as smooth a liar as Mal.

Arthur wondered at his mentor's ability to keep up a seemingly endless stream of small talk. Forester was completely enthralled, leaving the Point Man free to scan the room for Cobb's familiar face. He found the Extractor in the corner, a glass of Champaign in one hand, the other hidden in his pocket. The two men made eye contact for the briefest moment, long enough for Arthur to give Cobb a subtle nod.

"Your party is quite exquisite," Mal was saying. She'd brought Arthur back to reality with a small but painful pinch to his inner arm. "I would never be brave enough to host one of this size myself. Too many people that you can't keep an eye on."

"You're paranoid that someone might steal from you?" Forester asked with an incredulous laugh.

"Not paranoid," she corrected serenely. "Just wary. It's been known to happen."

"There's nothing to worry about in that regard, Mrs. Cotillard," Forester assured her. "I have the finest security system in the world. Everything of true value here is completely safe."

"Is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with acted disbelief. "Even the things on display?"

A sly smile appeared on Forester's face. "Can you keep a secret, Mrs. Cotillard?"

She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I adore a good secret."

Forester shot Arthur a disapproving glance, but the Point Man was busy pretending to be bored so as to appear unaware of the conversation. Though he seemed slightly hesitant, the host turned back to Mal and said, "Everything on display is either protected by the most accurate motion sensors in the world, or it is merely a copy of the actual item which I keep locked in a safe, in my study, to which room only I have admittance."

It took all of Arthur's willpower not to stiffen, though automatically, his eyes flicked back to where Cobb sat.

"Oh," Mal breathed in awe. "You must have quite a fortune, Mr. Forester, to afford such precautions."

"Quite a fortune, Mrs. Cotillard," Forester said with a smug smile.

Cobb finally met Arthur's gaze. Immediately, he knew what the Point Man knew…that the location of the information had been discovered. Subtlety, Cobb peeled himself away from the wall and headed in Arthur's direction, taking the most circuitous route he could. In the back of his mind, Arthur was aware that Mal was wrapping up the conversation. He was amazed by her ability to command a conversation without anyone noticing. Clearly, though he was ready in every other way to take on the role of Point Man, Arthur did not have the gift that Mal did. He couldn't do what she had just done with Forester. Certainly not yet, at least.

He became aware of Forester's eyes on his face just barely fast enough to respond to his host's brief good-bye. Once again, Forester brought Mal's hand to his lips. Arthur bristled at the action, but Mal was all smiles.

"I hope to meet you again, Mr. Forester," she lied smoothly.

As soon as Forester was out of sight, Arthur could feel the pressure of Mal's hand on his arm tighten. He looked down at her and her expression was one of pure excitement. "That was too easy," she said, though the word "too" seemed to make her happy rather than nervous. They exited the room swiftly, Cobb following behind at a distance.

It wasn't hard to find the study. Deftly, Mal removed her gun from her purse while Arthur took out his own gun from its position, tucked into the back of his pants. He could hear Cobb approaching from behind him. The three of them took a moment to finish arming themselves, then advanced at once. Cobb stepped in front of his wife automatically and she allowed him to, though Arthur could see the faint smile that touched her eyes.

"He said only he had admittance to the study," Mal cautioned as the two men approached the door. "What does that mean?"

"It means that you can only get in here with his finger print," Cobb answered, locating the scanner he was talking about. "But I designed the place. He thinks it's armed like his home, but it's programmed to let me in as well as him."

"That's clever, Sweetheart," Mal said, kissing her husband's shoulder lightly as he leaned over to press his thumb pad to the scanner.

"Welcome, Dom Cobb," said a woman's voice as the door swung open.

They entered slowly, both Arthur and Mal scanning the room as Cobb headed straight for the painting on the back wall. It looked exactly like Cobb had promised it would. The whole place was dark and rich, screaming of a very chic and modern designer's dream. Shinning grey stone lined the walls, lending a chilly effect to the place. The color scheme was strictly black, white and every shade in between. Red from the painting seemed to pop unexpectedly out at you, drawing your eyes immediately to the abstract art. It was the only real color in the room.

"Where's the safe?" Arthur demanded.

"Right here," Cobb replied softly, placing his gun on the desk and reaching up to lift the painting from its place on the wall. Sure enough, there was a silver safe complete with finger scanner imbedded in the stone."

"Please tell me you programmed this one to respond to your print, too," the Point Man said, watching as the Extractor frowned. There was a long silence while the older man stared at the safe, until finally Arthur spoke again. "Cobb?"

"I was expecting a regular lock…" he mused, his brow knitted in concentration as he examined the scanner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded at the same time that Mal said, "Dom, you don't have time to debate this."

As though all he'd heard was his wife, Cobb reached forward and pressed his thumb against the scanner. It whirred softly for a moment, then turned from blue to a glaring red.

"Access denied," said the same serene female voice.

"Dammit!" Cobb snapped under his breath, jumping when the alarm went off.

"Quickly Dom!" Mal screamed.

Footsteps in the hall told them that security was already on the way. Cobb didn't waste time, snatching up his gun and shooting at the lock. The bullets had no effect on the metal other than to leave a white skid mark on the otherwise perfect silver surface.

Without pausing, without thinking, Cobb spun around and put a bullet through Mal's forehead. She didn't even have time to scream.

"What the hell was that?" Arthur yelled, feeling his skin crawl with horror as he watched Mal crumple to the ground.

Cobb didn't answer. He shot another bullet at the window, shattering the glass. He hefted Mal up into his arms, then, without ceremony, let her limp form tumble to the ground several floors below. Next, he reached into his pocket, drawing out two ski masks. He tossed one to Arthur which he caught without having to think.

"Put that on," the Extractor snapped, pulling the other mask over his face.

Arthur obeyed, completely unsure of what else he could do. The click of a mag being ejected from a gun, then of a second one being replaced told him that Cobb had just reloaded his gun. He brought his own up and pointed it at the doorway just in time to shoot the first man that entered the room. The shot hit the security guard square in the chest, knocking him back so that he landed with his limbs splayed awkwardly, red blood decorating the otherwise grey floor. Several more followed which Cobb and Arthur brought down quickly.

Pain exploded in Arthur's right shoulder, knocking him backwards into the desk. He looked up in time to watch Cobb shoot Forester in the throat. The host swayed for a moment, a look of mixed shock and confusion on his face, then toppled forward, his head bouncing off a chair as he fell.

Arthur cursed with what little breath he could muster. "What were you thinking? He's going to wake up—"

"Mal will keep him under long enough for us to get the information," Cobb said sharply, striding over to Forester's motionless body. He drug the corpse over to the safe and pressed his thumb pad to the scanner.

"Approved. Kyle Forester."

He let the body drop on the floor, snatching the files out from the safe and then snapping it shut. Arthur watched, clamping his uninjured hand over the wound in his right arm. Blood made his hands slick, and it took all his control to keep it from trembling so violently he couldn't hold on.

Cobb scanned the files as quickly as he could. His eyes darted across the paper until he'd read everything he needed. Then he let them drop as he lifted his gun, leveling it at Arthur's forehead.

Suddenly, he was sitting bolt upright in the first class lounge at the LAX airport. Cobb was waking beside him, and Mal was stationed at the PASIV, forcing a sedative into Forester's IV.

"Did you get it?" she asked briskly.

"Just barely," Cobb responded, removing his needle. "Let's get out of here. I give him about thirty seconds before he wakes up."

Mal stood obediently and Arthur followed. The silver briefcase was hastily packed and snapped shut. Then the three of them spun—almost in unison—and headed out of the lounge just as Forester began to stir.

XXX

A/N: Okay, so I wasn't planning on finishing this so fast, but hopefully you'll like the action even though this chapter is a tad bit shorter. Please let me know what you think!