Author's Note: Hey, I just wanted to wish any of you who are reading this a happy thanksgiving! (I dunno if you celebrate it or not, but I hope you have a great day regardless.) I also wanted to thank Kitty Quasar yet again for your amazing long and detailed reviews. I look forward to them so much.
Disclaimer: I know you know it, but I'll say it anyways. Inception isn't mine.
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Chapter Nine
Eames was sitting at a stool in the hotel bar, the same as the last time. He glanced down at himself in a quick double-check, and sure enough he was projecting the same lovely blonde from the inception job, down to the very same uncomfortable, tight dress. And, just like in the inception job, Fischer was sitting at the bar to his left again, fingering a drink, his eyes unfocussed. Without waiting a beat, Eames spoke, projecting his voice as the same woman's from before.
"Am I boring you?" he asked.
Fischer glanced up at him, then looked away again.
"I was telling you my story," Eames continued, repeating the conversation from his memory of the inception. "I guess it wasn't to your liking."
He surveyed Fisher carefully as the other man cleared his throat, bringing his thoughts back to the 'woman' sitting beside him, and he felt a flicker of satisfaction as he saw a slightly stirring of recognition at the back of Fischer's eyes. "Uh... sorry." Fischer gave him the trace of an apologetic smile before his attention was lost again and he automatically repeated the words from his memory: "I have a lot on my mind." Subconsciously, he was remembering.
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Arthur was sitting on the bench in the lobby once more, much of the pain in his leg gone. His sense of calm had returned, bringing with it only the ghost reminder of the injury through the occasional twinging in his knee, brought on undoubtedly by the jolting of the subway car on the level above. Other than that though, there were very little unnatural disturbances like the ones they had experienced from Yusuf's driving. The hotel looking nearly identical to the one from the inception, the differences between the two small and hard to notice to anyone other than him or Ariadne. Cobb had done a good job.
He saw Cobb walking down the lobby, and stood, making his way down to join the other, only barely-noticably limping.
Cobb nodded to him. "The explosives?"
"They'll be in the room below 825," Arthur said. "The level second from the top, unless you've changed the layout accidentally."
"Alright. See you in a bit."
Arthur turned and headed for the hotel bar as Cobb made his way to the elevators. He found Fisher sitting at the bar with a beautiful blonde beside him, making the best of the little conversation he was offering her. Assuming the woman was Eames, Arthur made his way over and slid onto the stool on the other side of Fischer. They had planned for Cobb and Arthur to switch roles in this level so that Fischer's subconscious wouldn't zero in on Cobb, as they most likely would have done if Cobb had played Mr. Charles again. If Cobb had stepped into the bar, Fischer's subconscious would have ripped him apart from Fischer's memory of him before they'd had the chance to get what they needed done. Although Fischer most likely would recognize Arthur eventually from the very same level in the inception, it hopefully wouldn't be until it was too late for his security to help him.
Arthur leant forward around Fischer, a vile of sedative held hidden in his palm. "Excuse me," he said to Eames. "Do you mind passing the nuts?"
The blonde's eyebrows rose slightly, unimpressed. "Of course," she said, reaching for bowl on her other side and sliding them towards Arthur.
"Thank you," Arthur said. "I don't suppose you'd tell me whether you're enjoying your drink? I can't seem to decide on what to order."
"No, I'm not," the blonde said pointedly.
"Oh, well maybe you have a suggestion?" Arthur pressed.
Fischer looked up at Arthur, annoyance clear on his features. "Excuse me, do you mind?"
Arthur put up a hand. "My apologies."
Fischer looked away again, his hands still around his drink.
"As I was saying," the blonde began, but Arthur interrupted once more.
"I'm sorry-"
"What?" Fischer snapped, looking up.
"The chips." Arthur pointed apologetically.
Fischer turned and grabbed the bowl on the other side of the blonde angrily, banging it down loudly in front of Arthur before pointedly turning his back. Only Eames saw Arthur slip the sedative quickly and smoothly into the remains of Fischer's drink during the split-second he was reaching for the chips.
"I'll leave you alone, then," Arthur said, sounding slightly offended.
"That would be appreciated."
Arthur got up and left, making his way to a side of the bar where he could still see Eames and Fischer.
Eames watched him go, shaking his head annoyance for Fischer's sake. He leant in closer. "Do you want to go somewhere more private?"
Fischer looked up at him once more. "Uh, no, thanks. Not tonight, anyways."
"Oh, please," Eames said, smiling a little. "Not even one drink in my room?"
"No, thank you," Fischer repeated.
Eames raised an eyebrow. "It'll help get your mind off whatever's been bothering you."
Fischer's eyes flicked up to meet the blonde's, then he let out his breath in a sigh. "Alright. You have a point, I'll give you that. One drink."
Eames nodded, smiling and got up. "Oh, wait, let me finish this drink," he said quickly as Fischer stood up as well. He lifted the remains of the drink. "To... tonight."
Fischer clinked his glass briefly, then reluctantly finished his own drink as Eames downed his. Eames guessed that the sedative would take another fifteen minutes or so to begin to take effect, so he led the way to the elevators in the lobby. He continued to drawl mindless chatter to Fischer as they rode up to the top floor, then made their way down the hallway into room 825.
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Arthur watched the blonde leave with Fischer, and saw a pair of Fischer's projections follow them casually out of the bar. Guard raised, he walked after them down the hallway back to the lobby and watched as Fischer and Eames got into an elevator. The projections stopped outside the elevators. They talked to one another once or twice over the course of a couple of minutes or so, then one of them pushed the Up button to call an elevator. The projections were joined by another, then the three men got into the elevator as the doors finally opened. Arthur watched until the doors shut once more and the elevator began to rise, then bolted for the side stairwell. Banging open the doors, he sprinted up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. About halfway up he had to pause to catch his breath. One hand on the railway, bent over slightly, he could feel the throbbing in his knee beginning to become more pronounced. Fighting the urge to check if it the wound had re-opened, he continued to make his way up to the top floor.
Finally reaching the top, he paused to get his breathing under control then opened the doors and made his way into the hallway of the hotel. Peering around the corner cautiously, he spotted the projections standing near Eames' room, talking quietly in the hallway. They were all fairly young, strong men, each dressed in a dark suit and more than likely armed.
Arthur swore quietly, then made his way back into the stairwell, pulling out his cell phone. Eames answered after three buzzes.
"What is it?" Eames hissed, putting as much venom as he could into the blonde's voice.
"Are you within Fischer's eat shot?"
"I went into the bathroom. Where are you?"
"We cant go under in your room," Arthur said quickly. "The projections are already outside your door; the room's too similar to the inception. Cobb won't be able to protect for any longer than a couple minutes, tops, if they're already suspecting us this early on."
"How the hell are they onto us so soon?"
"I don't know; Fischer's subconscious must have abetter memory than we thought. We need to go somewhere the projections won't suspect."
There was a beat of silence, then Eames said, "Alright, I'm going to take him down into the woman's changing room by the pool. The militarized projections are all men, so hopefully that should give us at least five minutes on it's own after they think of checking there before they finally barge in anyways."
"Alright," Arthur agreed. "I'll let Cobb know."
"Good. You'll need to deal with the projections outside our room, too."
"Okay, I'll meet you down there in five minutes."
"Fine. Have you seen Mal?"
"I think she's with Cobb."
"Fair enough," Eames said. "See you in a bit." He hung up.
Arthur shoved his own phone back into his pocket, then checked his Glock and held it ready. He pressed an ear to the door of the stairwell, straining his ears to listen. Finally, after maybe a minute and a half, he made out the blonde's voice on the other side of the doors.
"No, of course no one will be swimming at this hour. Just relax, I have a key to get us in."
Arthur made out the ding as the elevator doors opened and shut. He took a breath, pausing for a beat, then shoved the stairwell door open, his gun raised. The projections were making their way down the hallway to follow Eames and Fischer down in the elevators.
He took two of them down within the first couple of seconds before they could get their guns out, but was forced to dodge back into the stairwell for cover as the third had his up by this point. Arthur pressed himself to the wall beside the door, out of immediate view if the projection were to open the doors. He stood still and began to count, waiting.
Fifty-two seconds had passed before the projection finally gave in waiting for him to come out. The doors were slammed open, and the man jumped into the stairwell, firing at random. Arthur nailed him in the side of the head before he even spotted him.
Making his way back down the stairwell, he phoned Cobb to let him know of the change of plans. Cobb hung up quickly, hurrying to reposition the charges beneath the pool instead, and Arthur picked up his pace. About halfway down one of the sets of stairs around the fifth level, he felt his knee abruptly give-out and he fell forward, hitting the banister hard. He managed to grab onto it to prevent himself from falling down the rest of the stairs, but he still hit his side against the railing and the breath was knocked out of him. He didn't move for a moment, still clutching the banister, winded, his heart pounding. Swearing under his breath, he finally stood back up, his ribs aching where he'd hit the railing, and continued running down the stairwell, more slowly now. By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairwell several minutes later, his leg was really beginning to bother him.
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Cobb shoved his phone back into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and hastily began to strip the charges off the ceiling and back into the bag he'd found them in. He made his way down to the basement of the hotel to check where the pool was. Memorizing its location, he made his way to the level below; the sub-basement. There was a key required in the elevator to go that low, but he picked the lock fairly easily.
The sub-basement was fairly obviously meant only for workers, as he could tell immediately by the change in luxury from the rest of the hotel. The space underneath the pool was pretty much a crawl space, but there was more room underneath the woman's changing room in what turned out to be a furnace room.
He made his way between the huge furnaces, setting the charges to the low ceiling as he had before in the hotel room at the top floor. Carefully putting the detonator in his inside pocket, he hurried from the room after activating all the charges. Stepped out of the furnace room, he was closing the door tightly behind him when he spotted a worker at the far end of the hallway.
"Hey!" the man yelled, but Cobb shot him before he could do anything else. He crumpled to the floor, and Cobb hastily walked over to him. He grabbed the body under the arms and dragged him into a closet to the right. He shut the closet door, hoping the projections wouldn't find him until the team had already been found out.
He turned and ran down the hallway back to the elevators before he ran into any other projections. Waiting for the elevator was hell, but it finally arrived and he stepped into it before anyone else spotted him.
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"I've told you, I'm nowhere near about to go swimming."
Eames knew he was really pushing Fischer now. They were standing in the hallway on the basement level outside the glass wall that showed into the huge salt-water pool on the other side.
"It's closed anyway," Fischer continued, the annoyance clear in his voice now. "I'm going back to my room."
"Wait," Eames said quickly, catching Fischer's arm. "Please don't go."
"I've had enough, get away from me," Fischer said as he turned back to him, swaying slightly as the sedative finally began to take effect. Cobb and Arthur appeared at the end of the hallway at the same time, and started to make their way over to him; Arthur holding the PASIV in one hand. Fischer's eyes rolled into his head and he began to fall back. Eames morphed back into himself at the same time as he caught Fischer to prevent him from hurting himself.
Cobb immediately kicked the door to the women's changing room open. No one was in it as the pool was closed, and he quickly flicked on the lights before turning to help Eames carry Fischer in. The elevator doors dinged halfway down the hallway and two projections stepped out. They spotted Fischer and reached for their guns at the same time, but Arthur shot both of them before they could fire.
"We have to hurry," Cobb muttered. He grabbed Fischer's legs as Eames grabbed his arms and they carried him into the changing room. Arthur ran over to the projections by the elevator and grabbed one by his legs. He dragged him down the hallway and into the changing room after Fischer, Cobb dragging in the second one after him. Eames grabbed the PASIV from where Arthur had dropped it in the hallway, before closing and locking the door behind them.
The room was quite large, with the main changing area and the bathroom off to one side along with the showers, several large closets, lockers and another smaller changing area.
Arthur sank onto the nearest bench to take the weight off his leg as Eames began to drag the two projections hurriedly out of sight into one of the bathroom cubicles. "My god, that dress is awful to do anything in," he complained. "I don't know how women do it."
"I thought you made a very convincing lady, Eames," Arthur replied.
"Where's Mal?" Cobb suddenly asked urgently, looking around. "I thought she was with one of you two."
Eames met Arthur's briefly, his hearts sinking. "We thought she was with you."
Cobb swore, sinking down onto a bench as well. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, thinking hard.
Arthur checked his watch for time, then hurriedly stood up and limped over to Fischer. "We don't have time for this, Cobb." He knelt down and pulled the PASIV to him and began to prime it as Eames made his way back into the main changing area.
Finally, Cobb spoke. "She must not have been able to go under properly with the PASIV. That was the same with Fischer's projection of Browning, wasn't it?"
None of them spoke.
Finally, Eames changed the topic, walking over to Arthur. "Not here," he said. "Let's go under somewhere at least initially out of sight incase anyone comes in."
Arthur nodded his assent, and helped Eames carry Fischer into the shower area. The tiles were slightly slippery and their shoes squeaked. "What, did you want to hide him behind a curtain or something?" Arthur asked, glancing around at the individual showers.
"I'm not bloody going under in a shower with you," Eames muttered back. "This should be fine."
Arthur nodded. He made to walk back to Cobb, but his leg suddenly gave out un-expectantly again. Eames grabbed his shoulder to prevent him from falling. "Just as well you weren't the dreamer then," Eames said, helping him down onto the floor.
Cobb came in then, the PASIV in his hand. He knelt down beside Fischer and inserted an IV line into his wrist. He handed one each to Eames and Arthur. "Are you ready?"
Eames lay down with a nod, rolling up his sleeve enough to insert the needle and grimacing as he made contact with the damp tiles. "Best of luck," he said.
"Cobb," said Arthur forcefully as Cobb opened the PASIV and checked all of the controls over. He looked up to see that they were all ready.
"What?"
"Tell us where Mal is."
Cobb looked down at the PASIV again, not meeting Arthur's eyes. "I don't know," he said, then pressed the button and they were asleep.
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Ariadne sat on a seat of the subway, rocking back and forth with the jolting to the car. About five minutes had passed, a little more than an hour and a half the next level down, and apart from the rattling of the train, it was completely silent. The sleepers were lying spread out all around her, but she had never felt so completely alone.
She got up and walked to the front of the car and looked out the window. Her stomach felt sick with worry as she watched the scenery speeding by in front of her. The door to the conductor's cubicle was ajar to her side, and she stepped in, looking for something to occupy her mind more than anything. Controls beeped all around her, but what drew her attention was a radio to the side. There was a voice coming through it.
"We've received your distress call, subway train 0491. Emergency measures are being taken."
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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and please drop me a review to let me know what you think!
~kat