DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.
Cobb's furious expression did not lighten. "Who the hell are you?"
"Introductions are not necessary right now," the man said, brushing off the subject as if it were no more than small talk. "What matters now, is that you drop whatever job you may have on Mr Johnson."
"And why would we do that?" Cobb asked through gritted teeth.
"Because that way, we might let you out alive." The man pointed above his head. "Up top? We've got two men, currently-" He looked at his watch. "-Moving your Mark from his predicament." "They are both just waiting for a chance to shed some blood. All I need to do, is wake someone up."
Memories of planning the job flooded back into Arthur's mind. He'd insisted that someone stay up top to observe and protect the sleepers. But with Eames as the dreamer and Cobb supposedly busy with the safe, that had only left the remaining three to guard the sleepers. Since Arthur was always needed in the dream (be it dropping without gravity or providing emergency kicks), that had left Ariadne and Yusuf. But as brilliantly minded as they were, neither was strong enough to hold up a good fight if necessary. Cobb assured him that this was a basic extraction and the chances of something going wrong were highly unlikely. Turns out, he was very wrong.
"Then how are you here?" Yusuf asked, his normally quiet voice laced with curiosity. "I'm certain that you're not projections."
The black haired man smirked. "That's the best part. The new and improved PASIV device. Allows for linked dream-sharing based on sub-concious reniments of Marks." He quirked an eyebrow. "Surely you, an advanced Chemist, would know this?"
Nobody could miss the sudden paleness in Yusuf's face. "But...I thought...I thought that was a myth! Nothing short of a fantasy among Extractors!"
"No, it's very much real."
Arthur swallowed, keeping his grip tight on his gun, his knuckles turning white. "What does it matter to you whether we drop the extraction or not?"
One of the other men made a small sound at the back of their throat. "Did you think you were the only team that's completed a successful inception?" This man looked young, young and eager. There was something about him that made Arthur very bitter.
"Mr Cobb, surely you can understand how hard it is to get jobs when you're in competition with the best?" he said, offering a sickly smile. "We are simply eliminating the competition."
"We didn't realise there were teams that knew about us." Eames said. "Surely we can share?" he asked, in a more joking manner.
"It's not about sharing, Mr Eames." The man replied, more fiercely than his previous tone.
"Hang on, how did you know where to find us?" Arthur asked.
"We have our ways. Cell phone tracking, laptop bugs, flight data..." He grinned. "Elementary things, really."
Cobb's eyes moved across the room. "Alright, well, you've done what you came to do. You've successfully failed our job for us." His expression turned grim. "My team and I are going to wake up now."
A thunderous roar errupted from downstairs. Projections.
"I don't think so, Mr Cobb. You see, we need to be sure that we're not going to hear from you again..."
The tension in the room thickened. Arthur's grip tightened on his gun. "We're not planning on staying for the projections. They're already on their way." His voice held strength, despite his nerves. He hated projections. They were relentless in the pain they gave you, and often, you still felt sore limbs from even after when you've woken up.
"What makes you think we're going to let you leave?" the man's thick voice muttered.
Arthur locked eyes with Cobb for a moment, communicating silently. Cobb gave him a silent nod. As quickly as he could, Arthur swung his arm around and fired.
The response was quick, and soon, glass shattered around them as bullets rang out through the room. Table orniments and mirrors shattered as guns fired. Arthur saw Eames and Cobb quickly retrieve their guns and began firing. The other team was skilled, but they were better. Soon, one by one the figures started dropping down on the ground, until it was two against five. Arthur saw it as their golden chance as the doorway was now free. He knew that projections would be coming soon. It was now or never.
"Everybody get to the roof! Now!" Arthur yelled over the debree.
One by one, the team began to disappear out of the door, leaving Arthur to deal with the remaining two. He yelped out in pain as a bullet skimmed the side of his cheek, leaving a trickle of blood to run down his face. In anger, he aimed and shot at the shoulder of the smaller man, effectively making him fall back into the wall. Arthur was ready to take his aim at the other, before feeling a yank on his sleeve.
"Arthur, come on!" He heard Eames yell into his ear.
"I can take them!" Arthur replied, his shots becoming sloppy and off-aim.
"The projections are on their bloody way, come on!" Eames suddenly cried out in pain as his hand shot up to his shoulder. He looked into his hand to see it was covered in warm blood. Arthur looked at his hand, and then looked to Eames.
"...Ok, let's go."
The two men pushed themselves from the room and into the hallway. The thunderous roar from downstairs was gradually becoming louder, and they knew that they only had a certain amount of time before they would be getting torn apart by projections. Throwing themselves up the stairs, they found themselves getting closer and closer to the exit.
Reaching the rooftop exit, they swung the door open and ran to the edge of the roof. They'd originally planned a much more smooth kick, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Arthur felt Eames roughly push Arthur's shoulders, throwing him off the side of the building. It was painful. Much more painful than Arthur expected. As the freezing air whipped and thrashed around his skin and clothing, Arthur remembered the gravity pulling him closer and closer to the ground before everything went black.