A/N: Hey everyone! Here's chapter two for you lovely readers! Thanks Twelvepastnever for your comment (it made me smile)! E-Hugs and E-kisses for you! And to my new friends who added me to your favorites…. THANKS!
So I'm just warning you, I added a new character to the story, I think you'll like her.
'Quoted italics' = spoken words, used for emphasis
Disclaimer: This is Chris Nolan's fault! :D
- RaifandRosefan
Chapter 2: The Backup Point
They are parked just outside of the Emergency room. Eames swings his car door open. He zooms past some EMT's lifting a stretcher into a waiting ambulance and quickly returns with a wheelchair. Arthur, who has gotten out of his seat and opened the rear door of the car, lifts a weakened Ariadne out of the back seat and lowers her into the wheelchair. Ariadne remains silent, breathing rapidly. Eames reenters his vehicle, subsequently driving off in the direction of the parking lot. Arthur wheels Ariadne into the emergency room.
The sight of Ariadne, soaked in what appears to be her own blood, causes a small frenzy among the emergency room nurses who rush Ariadne into surgery. Arthur artfully fills out the paperwork given to him by an emergency room staff member. Fake names, fake addresses, and an imaginary general practitioner are given and Arthur quickly returns the paperwork. Moments later, the elevator doors open. Eames, worn out and looking less-than-amused, walks over to the dejected point man.
"How is she?" the forger asks, a worried look splayed across his face.
Arthur leans back in his seat. He rubs his hand over his face. "She's in surgery," he exhales, "She'll be in for another few hours."
"Bollocks." The forger relents. He slumps down in the chair next to Arthur, placing his feet up on the table in front of him.
Arthur sits up. "When she gets out of surgery, I'm going to ask that woman exactly what she's been up to in the past year," he states determinedly.
Eames shoots Arthur a curious look. "You don't think it a bit too soon to begin the inquisition, darling?"
"No one sends goons like that after someone unless they've got something to lose," Arthur says with more than a hint of malice, "She's gotten herself into something, and I don't know if she knows it."
Eames laughs unintentionally, "do you honestly think the woman has no idea she's in trouble? I mean, for Christ's sake Arthur, she's got an armada out there trying to kill her!" Eames pauses to look at Arthur's expression, a mixture of boredom and seriousness. Arthur is listening, "If we want to figure this out, we have to work with her, not treat her like some sort of child – God knows she would never tolerate that, nor does she deserve it." Eames unfolds and refolds his legs, still restung on the table in front of him.
"You suppose we should tell Dom?" Eames asks.
"He'd find out anyway," Arthur shrugs, as he takes out his phone to make the call.
The forger and point man wait in silence for Dom to answer his phone.
The surgeon, dressed in blue scrubs and a red cap, enters the waiting room with a smile on his face. He approaches Arthur and Eames. The two men get up from their seats. It is Eames who speaks first.
"So, Doc, how is our sister? Is she okay?" he asks, nervously.
"She iswonderfoll," the surgeon answers, smiling, "Ze surgerry went well. We 'ave her sleeping in eentenseeve care right now. You may visit her, if you like."
"Thank you, sir," Eames shakes the surgeon's hand gratefully.
"Thank you," Arthur repeats as he shakes the surgeon's hand. Arthur moves quickly to follow Eames toward the elevator.
On the third floor, Eames and Arthur exit the elevator. They walk down the hallway, stopping in front of room 305, Ariadne's room. Through the glass window they see their tiny architect sleeping, her arm bandaged with layers of gauze. Numerous IVs drip their nutritious contents into her ravaged body.
Arthur opens the door silently and the two of them step into the room. Eames closes the door behind them. The uncharacteristically anxious point man takes a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed. Eames leans against the window. Both men stare at the architect with a mixture of curiosity and worry.
Hours pass, and the architect begins to stir from her sleep. Eames - now sitting in the chair vacated by Arthur - is asleep, snoring quietly. Arthur stands outside of the room, on the phone with Dom.
"No… she's still asleep" Arthur answers. He rubs his eye. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he switches the subject of the conversation, "What did my guy tell you about Eames's photos? Any leads?"
Dom pauses, "er, yeah."
"And?" Arthur demands, noting Dom's sudden apprehension.
"Those guys are contracts. They work for The Council."
"WHAT?" Arthur nearly drops his phone. Nurses and hospital staff shoot admonishing looks at the point man who flashes an apologetic smile and continues his conversation in hushed tones.
"What do you mean they work for The Council?" Arthur almost whispers.
"I mean, someone's hired The Council to kill Ariadne. The Council sent those two agents after her this morning. Arthur, what has Ariadne been up to?" Dom asks – confused, more than worried.
"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Eames pokes his head out of the door, "She's awake."
"She's awake. Let me call you back," Arthur ends the call and walks back into the room where Ariadne sits up in bed, awake.
Eames sits at the foot of the bed. Arthur closes the door behind him and moves to standnext to Eames.
"How are you feeling?" Arthur asks the young woman appraisingly.
"Like I got hit by something big and yellow," Ariadne offers with a weak smile. Eames chuckles. "How long was I out?"
"A few hours. It's 6 pm," Arthur answers.
"You gave us quite a scare there, sweetheart," Eames says petting her leg. "Anyway, the nurse said we could get you out of here as soon as you were ready."
"Oh, I'm ready," Ariadne says with gusto, "I just need my clothes." Ariadne points to the bag resting on the table across the room. Arthur carries the bag over to the architect who begins rifling through its contents.
"Would you boys excuse me, please?"
"Of course, darling. I'll be outside if you need me" Eames says. Both Eames and Arthur walk toward the door. Eames closes the blinds facing the hallway. They exit.
Outside of the room, Arthur turns toward the forger, "Hand me your keys, I'll go get the car." Eames tosses his keys to the point men who easily catches them. Turning on his heels, Arthur walks toward the elevator. The Englishman leans against the door to room 305. He waits.
The elevator dings as it reaches parking level P1. The doors open. Arthur steps out into the cold gray parking structure, looking for Eames' Italian sports car. He spots it not long after beginning his search, Eames has taken up two parking spots. Of course he would, Arthur thinks humorously.
Arthur presses the "unlock/start engine" button on the car's remote. Flames blast from the car, causing the hood to fly up and crash down on the vehicle's windshield. Fire engulfs the engine, eating its way to the back of the vehicle, where a second explosion lifts the car off the ground. Arthur ducks behind a nearby vehicle, pulling out his gun. A few meters away, gun weilding footsteps race toward Arthur, who breaks the window of a car he is hiding behind and unlocks it. The alarm goes off. Arthur enters the vehicle, pulling wires from behind the dashboard. He touches two recognizable wires against one another. Bullets blast through concrete and metal. Glass shatters. C'mon, work. Yes! The engine roars awake. Arthur throws the car into reverse. Bullets follow as Arthur races toward the exit.
Ariadne is fully dressed in her bloody clothes from that morning. She and Eames stand outside the hospital entrance. Eames gets a call on his cell phone – it's Arthur. Eames answers,
"Arthur, where are you?"
"Listen, there's no time! You need to get Ariadne out of there, now! Someone attached an explosive to your car. I triggered it, and now they're coming after me. I can handle these guys, but you need to get out of there, now!"
"Okay," says Eames resolutely.
"Meet at the backup point!" Arthur ends the call. Eames heads in the direction of the street, Ariadne follows. The forger makes a right as he reaches the sidewalk.
"What's happened to Arthur, Eames?" Ariadne asks with the seriousness of a trained killer.
"The men chasing you attached an explosive to my car. Arthur just set it off and now they're chasing him." Eames explained, all humor gone from his face.
"Shit. I'm sorry Eames," Ariadne states, "I never expected this." Yes you did, Ariadne thinks, her mind running away from her. She shakes the thought from her head.
Eames walks over to a parked car, a navy blue convertible cabriolet. It takes less than two minutes for the forger to break in and hot wire the car. The dream stealers take off in their stolen vehicle. "We're headed to the backup point, aren't we?" Ariadne infers. She receives only a nod from the forger.
It is night, and the moon has risen in the sky. Arthur stands in a deserted parking lot on the edge of a river. His dark eyes stare coldly at the glistening body of water in front of him. The point man pushes his stolen vehicle, whose gear shift has been set to neutral, toward the river. Inside of the vehicle lay the lifeless bodies of the two men who had tried to kill him. The vehicle falls into the river. The water bubbles as the car sinks further and further into the river. That's taken care of.
Arthur turns his attention to his pursuers' vehicle, a black van with tinted windows. He walks over to the rear of the van, opening its doors. Inside are racks upon racks of weaponry. Arthur removes the weapons from their racks and loads them into the trunk of a third vehicle – stolen, of course – that sits not too far from the van.
After unloading the vehicle, Arthur picks up a large stone sitting on the ground nearby. Arthur leans the stone against the gas pedal of the large van. The van races toward the river. It lands with a splash in the water before sinking to the river's depths.
At the backup point, a crumbling yet elegant apartment owned by Zelda Frasier, a grey-haired Englishwoman in her sixties with a penchant for smoking, drinking and cursing, Ariadne and Eames sit drinking tea. They are being entertained by Zelda who is regaling them with stories of her early days in dream-sharing. Ariadne and Eameslaugh wholeheartedly at the silly mistakesthat occurred from Zelda's chemist mixing the wrong compounds and gasped at the disastrous mistakes out in the field which resulted in deaths. Finishing her story, Zelda places her teacup squarely on her coffee table – she didn't care for coasters. Zelda looks at Ariadne and Eames, all gaiety gone from her countenance.
"Now," she says, "you lot have come to pay me a visit, which if I remember correctly, only happens when something is terribly wrong. So, what sort of shit have you rousted this time?"
Zelda waits, patiently serious, as Ariadne and Eames exchange looks. Neither of them wants to tell the woman how much trouble they've brought to her doorstep.
"Someone better tell me soon, or I'll start shooting kneecaps." Zelda takes another sip of her tea.
It is Ariadne who answers. "People keep trying to kill me and none of us knows why or who they are. They shot me in the arm this morning, and tried to kill me in the hospital before we got here."
"I see," Zelda says smiling dangerously, "It seems you have a dead-man problem."
Ariadne is confused, "a what?"
Eames offers and explanation, "a dead-man problem, it's a situation where a dreamer, the dead-man, is the target of assassins, known as dead-man makers, who've been hired to kill the dreamer. It's not a term widely used anymore, it was coined in the 80s. Nowadays, people tend to just say 'someone's trying to kill me.' But I think 'dead-man problem' carries more weight. Don't you, Zelda?"
"Of course, Eames, and I will excuse your sly attempt to age me, darling," Zelda takes another sip of her tea. Eames offers his toothy schoolboy smile to the grey-haired woman. Zelda smilingly waves him off, "Now the question is: who wants you dead?"
The front door swings open. Zelda grabs her 9mm from under her chair and points it at the intruder. Arthur drops his key, lifting his hands above his head. At the sight of the young man, Zelda lowers her gun. She gets up from her seat to hug Arthur, smiling.
"You shouldn't scare me like that Arthur," Zelda admonishes, laughing, "I nearly killed you! Come, have a seat. I'll get you some tea." Zelda disappears into the kitchen. Arthur takes a seat on the couch next to Ariadne. Zelda returns with a new cup of tea. She hands the cup to the grateful point man. "So, your architect was just telling me she has a dead-man problem..." Zelda takes another sip of her tea.
"Yes, and I know who the dead-man maker is."
"Who?" Ariadne demands.
Arthur places his teacup on the coffee table. The point man looks at the architect, "The Council. Someone has sent The Council after you."
"Oh hell," Eames utters.
"Are you sure?" Ariadne is terrified.
"Yes. I had Cobb check Eames' pictures. They were definitely working for The Council."
"Bloody hell," Eames spits, "How the fuck are we going to fight The Council? We'd need a fucking army!"
What does The Council want with me? Ariadne thinks, I haven't done anything wrong! Well, relatively speaking.
"Maybe you did and you didn't realize," Eames looks at the architect, out of ideas. Ariadne didn't realize she'd been thinking out loud and that Eames, sitting closest to her in his chair, had heard her.
Zelda slams her teacup on the coffee table, "Would someone mind telling me, who the fuck is The Council?"
"They're an agency, of assassins. People hire The Council when they want someone absolutely dead," Arthur explains.
"As opposed to figuratively dead," Eames finishes.
Arthur continues, "The Council has agents all over the world."
Zelda's eyes brighten with understanding. She looks at Ariadne, "And now they're after her."
"Yes," Arthur answers sadly.
The grey-haired woman, the forger and the point man all look at Ariadne, whose expression turns glum under their intense gaze. Taking a cigarette out of the pack resting on the coffee table and lighting said cigarette, Zelda asks the question on everyone's mind, "What the fuck did you do, to get you on The Council's shit list?"
A/N:(sorry if you had any problem reading this, I had to replace the chapter) This is gonna be a fairly slow moving Fic. I don't want to rush the buildup of the story. Also, I know you're wondering when you'll see Dom and Yusuf (and Saito *hehe*)… don't worry, I haven't forgotten them. They will appear soon enough. Oh and I hope you liked the new character. I tried to make her a badass. In my mind, she was a badass before being a badass was badass.