AN: I've decided to take this story at a slower pace. The reason why I am doing this is because I usually get an idea in my head, can't stop thinking about it, write it, and then it's done by the second chapter. :/ But there will be more intensity and all that jazz, all I'm going to do is add a tad bit more detail, because I think I am lacking in that. Thank you all the people who story alerted and reviewed. It's very much appreciated. Sorry this is longer than usual!
"You ready?" asked Arthur, going over every last little detail.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Eames sighed as Yusuf was helping him shrug on his beige jacket.
"I think we're good to go!" Yusuf said confidently, "Walk back to where you were last night. Wait for one hour. Then we will follow after we see you start moving. This has got to work; this is our only shot Eames."
"Thanks for the pep talk, bud," Eames said sarcastically.
Eames strode out of the warehouse into the chilly night after receiving the last goodbyes from his teammates and Miles. The full moon was shining through the clouds, lighting the sky even more. The streets of Paris were quiet, his footsteps echoed through the streets, sounding like thunder every time he took a step. There were very few lights; only a couple of late night stores and old Victorian lamps lit the way. The whole effect was eerie, very unlike Paris in the daytime.
He arrived at his destination, which was where he and Ariadne were jumped only last night. It wasn't long before he heard distant footsteps, and two figures, dressed in black again, emerged from the blackness. Eames smirked before he jokingly said, "Just can't resist me, can you?"
One of the men stepped forward and said commandingly with a threatening glare, "If you want to see your friend alive, come with us or we will kill her."
"Did you get that cheesy quote from a movie there, love?" Eames chuckled, "Fine I'll go with you," Eames said more seriously, "But she better not be harmed or I'll go after you myself," Eames ended in a threatening tone. He stepped forward, hands raised to shoulder level in surrender.
The other man stepped forward, producing shiny handcuffs that glinted in the low light, from his pocket, and continued to handcuff Eames. They then proceeded to guide him over to an old, beat up gray van that was waiting at the other end of the stranded street. Eames prayed to God that they did not search him. If they did, their whole plan would go up in smoke.
I woke with a start. I must have drifted off, though I don't know how with the uncomfortable position I was sitting in. Someone came in through the heavy door, the room now flooded with bright light. The figure had his back to the light, so I couldn't see his face, but he appeared to be putting the jingling keys back into his pocket. He came over and crouched down by my chair, throwing the food he brought me, which consisted of bread and a bruised banana, and a mug of water on the floor. He then took off my make-shift gag.
My eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the light and I recognized the man crouching in front of me. He was the man I hit below the belt. This man had hard, brown eyes that blazed with anger, a tight set mouth, a white scar on his temple, and hair that was a light chocolate brown, not cut too short or too long, just long enough for it to go every which way no matter how hard he tried to keep it tamed. He really did look…intimidating.
He gave her a long contemplating look before he said, "First off, call me Burick, and secondly, I want you to behave. You've already caused me enough trouble as it is."
I snorted in disgust before I exclaimed, "As if!" I started off in a set of giggles.
He stood up in frustration and whispered, "You better, girl, if you ever want to have your totem again." He gave me a small, evil smile.
Immediately I stopped. My eyes went wide with fear. He laughed menacingly and then reached in his pocket and brought out my golden bishop, gleaming in the light as he dangled it in front of my face.
"If you want this back and if you know what's good for you, I'd suggest you do what we tell you," he said before leaving the room once more, pulling the door shut as the soft click of the lock echoed through the room as I was left in darkness once again. That click was the click away from my freedom, my reality, and my totem. I felt devastated. I dimly remember hot tears slowly running down my cheeks, staining my gag as my barrier slowly cracked, and then broke completely, my pain and my sadness tearing out, leaving me sobbing in complete blackness.
Eames walked through a hallway, steps clicking on the concrete floor. He was blindfolded and handcuffed, so he had to be lead to a cell. They stopped somewhere in mid-stride, seemingly by a door. He heard the distinctive sound of a lock clicking open and a door opening. He was roughly shoved into the cell, blind fold and handcuffs quickly taken off, and turned about to his captor.
"We'll turn on the lights. The boss will see both of you in an hour. Don't start any funny business or you'll regret it," said his captor threateningly. He then turned on his heel and shut and locked the door. The lights overhead flickered, then came on, lighting the whole room in a dim, sickly yellow.
Eames turned around on his heel as soon as the light came on and found Ariadne in the worst state he had ever seen her. Her gray t-shirt was stained with dirt and flecks of blood, her dark denim jeans were covered in dirt and ripped up, her blue converse were scuffed and had grass and blood stains on them. But what horrified him the most was her face. She had multiple cuts and scratches across her face, there was dried blood that ran from her nose to her tiny chin, she had black and blue bruises on her cheek, her temple, and on her eye, she had tear stains running down her red, puffy cheeks, and her navy blue scarf was used as a gag that was pulled tightly across her mouth.
She looked at him with such pleading and fear. He ran over to her and started to untie her. Her hands were slightly purple from the ropes being tied so tight. Once he got her untied he swiftly took off her gag and let her cry into his shoulder. As he cradled her in his lap, he murmured soft reassuring words in her ear. He felt a bump on the back of her head along with sticky blood. He was disgusted at what these bastards did to her.
After Ariadne calmed down a bit, he checked the back of her head to find a deep gash and a bump the size of a half of a baseball. Eames did his best to clean the wound and comfort Ariadne. Her crying soon turned into sad hiccups.
"What are you doing here?" she sniffed.
"Getting you back, love!" Eames said reassuringly.
"But how? How can you help me if you're in here yourself?" she asked innocently.
"Tracking device, darling. It's hidden in my clothes. Back up should be here soon," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
She got off his lap and straightened up before she said admiringly, "Smart," and gave a feeble smirk.
They continued to talk, sometimes trying to figure a way out, sometimes just reassuring each other. Ariadne did tell Eames about the man named Burick having her totem.
"Well I can certainly assure you that this is definitely reality, love," he whispered grimly.
They heard the familiar click of the lock as Burick opened the door. He stepped in with his friend, named Sullivan, and said mockingly, "Times up, boss wants to see you."
Much to Ariadne's despair, she and Eames were lead opposite directions down the hall. The man named Sullivan lead her down the hallway and then down a separate, smaller one. He brought her down to a large wooden door at the end of the hallway, knocked twice, and then opened the door, gently pushing her inside the room.
The room itself was very office like and imposing. The floor to ceiling windows were covered with ruby red curtains, the desk stood there with all it's shiny, mahogany glory with a black leather chair sitting proudly behind it, bookshelves lined the walls, green sitting chairs were in front on the desk, and to top it all off was a blue and white print designed rug. Off in a corner stood a man gazing intently at an oak grandfather clock, its hands ticking away.
He turned at the sound of her entrance and smiled, waving her towards one of the dark green chairs. She only stood by it, refusing to sit.
"Hello Ariadne, I've heard a lot about you," he gave a fake smile, "Call me Detric."
She gave him an odd look, finding that he didn't want to go on a first name basis. But he only chuckled at her look and continued on talking, "Lets get to business then. You have some amazing talents Ariadne, talents that are important to what I need to accomplish. So, I want to propose a deal," he took a pause, looking at her intently, then whispered, "We need your help Ariadne; I need you to do a job for me, an important job. I want you to make the best, most complicated maze your mind can create. You can have all the time you need to make it," he finished, looking hopefully at her.
Ariadne scoffed at the idea, and then whispered in a disgusted tone, "Over my dead body."
Detric's smile faltered, then he frowned and thought over what she just said. Slowly, his mouth formed into an evil smile, his eyes dancing with menace, and he hissed, "That will be very soon, then Ariadne. Maybe your dear teammate will follow the same fate as you. But when you and he are seconds from death, you will have on your conscious that you could have saved him. You could have saved the both of you. But you will live if you perform this job for me. You have until midnight to make up your mind. Choose wisely, Ariadne."
I looked at the clock. It said it was 10: 16 p.m. Crap. I didn't have much time. I had Eames and my life hanging in the balance. This was a gamble I didn't want to take.