"How the hell did this happen?" Cobb yelled over the phone. He was furious

Cobb was retired and spending time with his kids in the U.S. But from time to time he called to monitor the team.

"You were supposed to watch her! You were supposed to watch over the whole team! To make sure something like this didn't happen!" Cobb seethed with anger, all of it directed mainly at Arthur.

"How could you let them walk the streets of Paris without a weapon? Why didn't you have one on you Eames?" Cobb hissed at Eames.

Eames had gotten away. Right after Ariadne and the two men were out of earshot, he expertly twisted in his captors arms, flipped him, knocked him out, and hid his unconscious body in the shadows. He then ran in the direction Ariadne and the two men went, but found no sign of her or the men. He hurried to the warehouse and spilled the whole story to Arthur and Yusuf.

"Do I have to come back?"

"No, we'll take care of it," Arthur said in a calm voice, "Yusuf, go call Miles. We are going to need him for this."

"Do you have any idea of who these people are?" Cobb asked in a more calm voice.

"No, but we are trying to figure that out." Arthur said carefully.

"God dammit Arthur, just figure it out! Apparently they must have gotten wind of the Inception job and that Ariadne was the best architect around. She is in serious danger Arthur!" Cobb raised his voice again.

"We know! God Cobb, you think we don't know that?" Arthur lost his cool, finally breaking out in anger. "We'll get her back. I've got a plan," he hung up and turned towards Eames and Yusuf.

"Eames, I'm going to have to ask a lot from you. You are going to have to take a huge risk to get Ariadne back, but this is the only way." Arthur looked straight at Eames.

Eames contemplated it for a minute then said, "I'll do it."

I opened my eyes. My head was pounding with pain. I was drowsy, tired, and weak. The room I was in was almost pitch black, the only light source can from the pale moon light streaming in from a high set window behind me. It smelled damp, like it had just rained. The whole room was concrete, similar to the warehouse. I couldn't make out any distinct features since it was so dark.

I realized that I was in a fold out metal chair, hands tied behind my back, the rope tied tight, almost halfway up my forearm. My legs were tied at the ankles and my thighs were tied together. My navy blue scarf was made into a make-shift gag. I guess these people didn't want me leaving.

I listened hard for footsteps or voices. A pair of footsteps came down what I suspected to be a hallway and stopped just short of my locked door.

"You idiot! You were supposed to bring her back unharmed! Look at her; she's been beaten to a pulp! Now we have to wait until she heals before we can make her dream! God knows how long that will take with the condition you put her in," the man's voice was low and commanding. He was in a fit of rage from the sound of it.

"She almost hit me hard enough to make sure I'd never had children!" the other man protested, his voice slightly high in defense.

"I don't care what she did. Your mission was to bring her back unharmed, which you obviously failed. You were also supposed to bring back the man, which was another failure. Now you have to bring her food and water until the job is finished. Don't screw that up. We need her alive for this," the man finished, signaling that the conversation was over. I heard only one pair of footsteps recede down the hall.

The other man let out a grunt of anger as his punched the wall. He then let out a stream of curses as he receded the opposite way down the hall.

I let out a sigh of relief. At least they were going to keep me alive, for awhile longer at least. First I had to make sure I wasn't dreaming. How did I get here? I was kidnapped by two men this evening, got knocked unconscious, and then ended up in this room. But how did I get from the underside of the bridge to this room? This was going to take awhile.

I scooted around in my chair, trying to feel for my totem. At least knowing that my totem was there would be proof enough that I wasn't dreaming, and a comfort, too. My totem was my only connection to reality in this place. I scooted even more, not feeling my totem in my pocket. I looked down at my pocket, where I always kept my bishop, and I didn't see the familiar bump. Oh God.

I lost my totem.