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Ch. 6
Arthur woke early the next morning, very stiff necked from lying on the floor. Eames was still asleep, sprawled on the couch lucky bastard though Arthur. As he raised his head off the floor he could see Gia sitting up in bed. Staring down at him.
"Good morning?" he asked, hesitantly. She looked down quickly.
"You woke me up." Her voice was soft in the gloom.
"Sorry." How is that even possible? Arthur though to himself, he'd barely moved yet. He got up stretching his arms over his head and cracking his back loudly. The sound made Eames wake for a moment, mumble something incoherent, then turn over, and sink into sleep again.
"Sleep well?" asked Gia swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing, wincing slightly.
"Yeah, it was ok, floor was soft enough." He smiled slightly at her and she returned it. Arthur noticed the welts on her feet, which had been red yesterday, were now purple and black, standing out shockingly against her pale skin.
"Are you alright to walk?" he asked, motioning to her feet, she tried a few steps, wincing again.
"For now… I won't be running in any races though."
"Do you mind if I ask what happened?" Arthur ventured tentatively, bending down and selecting some clothes for the day. Gia hesitated for a moment. "Doesn't matter." Arthur turned and looked at her, sitting on the arm on the couch where Eames was sleeping.
"Are you ok now?"
"Yeah. I'm ok." There was a long, awkward pause.
"So-why were you in his flat?"
Gia looked at him, nonplussed for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"I mean." He felt his face heat slightly, "What did he want with you?"
"You mean what I'm for? Not including the obvious stuff." He frowned at her, not quite following.
"You don't know why you're here do you; why you have me."
"How do you know?"
"Wouldn't be having this conversation then would we?" Arthur sighed, thoroughly fed up with the girl's cryptic crossword answers.
"Ok. So, fill me in then." He packed the last of his clothes in his duffle bag and went to wake Eames.
"Nope." She said, quietly and sliding off the couch and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Resisting the urge to kick something, Arthur shook Eames awake slightly more roughly than may have been strictly necessary. The next second Eames had a gun pointing in Arthur's face. Quickly recognizing Arthur he lowered it.
"Jesus Artie, what was all that about?" asked Eames, running a hand over his sleep-rumpled hair.
"Sorry, sorry, but we're going."
"Ah right. But next time-" Eames motioned to the gun in his hand "a pat on the shoulder will do just fine yeah?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that."
Eames stood and stretched, yawning, then checked his watch. "Jesus- what time do you call this Artie? It's the middle of the night!"
"Its six am- technically morning." Arthur shrugged selecting a shirt and waiting for Gia to come out of the bathroom.
"Is she in there?" asked Eames, jerking his head towards the door.
"Yeah. It's weird. I think she knows more about all of this than we do, she's not saying anything about it though."
"What do you think she knows?"
"Why Cobb wants her. I'm sure of it."
"I'll ask her about it." Said Eames, pulling his wife-beater off over his head, Arthur noticed the tattoos he'd so often glimpsed stretching across his torso.
"See something you like?" grinned Eames, selecting a shirt and shrugging it on.
Arthur barked a laugh "The tattoos, you just had more of them than I thought."
"Yeah, well, I was quite young when I started. This one-" he pointed to the initials M.K.D. on his ribs "First girlfriend- I was fourteen, trying to impress her, they just kept coming after that."
"Wow" said Arthur, "that is really young."
"Yeah well, I got into 'er knickers so it must have worked for her." Eames cracked a grin. "You ever get any ink?"
"Nah, haven't found anything permanent worth remembering yet." He sighed, and then smiled. "Maybe, when I'm out of the business for good- get a tattoo of the somnacin compounds somewhere"
Eames raised his eyes to heaven "Geek." Then continued to pack.
They left the rest stop after seven, taking time to have some breakfast and refuel the car. Arthur insisted on checking the weather forecast for the day before they set off to make sure that no more snow had been predicted.
"Where are we going?" Asked Gia, taking up her position in the back seat.
"London, we've got to get you a passport and a visa." Replied Eames from the driver's seat, fiddling with the radio.
"How are you going to do that?" asked Arthur, "She's got no id, no birth certificate-"
"You have so little faith in me darling, we're going to my flat and I'll whip up the papers in no time." Arthur nodded; remembering the Eames's forging abilities went far beyond his dream sharing impersonations.
The drive was quiet; the traffic from last night mostly cleared and Arthur could even see promising snatches of clear blue sky between the clouds. The occasional field on the side of the motorway was blanketed thickly in snow, crisscrossed with deer and rabbit tracks. They continued for a time until Gia piped up, her soft voice seeming louder in the confined space.
"Are we in a hurry?" she asked.
"Not particularly darling why?" replied Eames from the front.
"I wondered if we could stop for a bit, by the fields over there." Eames complied; throwing a questioning look over his shoulder but Gia was resolutely staring out of the window.
As they pulled up onto the hard shoulder, trucks rushing by perilously close to the wing mirror and Gia hopped out of the car and straight over the fence into the field. Arthur jumped out after her. "Where are you going?" he called for she had already walked a few yards away.
"Quick walk!" she called back, "Five minutes!"
"Ok!" called Arthur, crazy girl, he thought, it's freezing out here! He returned shivering to the car to tell Eames.
"Crazy" agreed Eames, "although after being stuck in that flat I'd want to stretch my legs too."
They waited for Gia to return, having lost sight of her against the whiteness of the snow and the dark trees rising up behind. Arthur fiddled with the radio, strains of Céline Dion fading into Miles Davis. He lent back in his seat, allowing his eyes to close for a moment as he soaked in the smooth jazz. Time seemed for Arthur to slow down suddenly stretching the saxophone riff into infinity then, just as suddenly he was being shaken awake by the movement of the car. His eyes snapped open and he realized they were driving away, Gia in the back seat, shaking snow out of her fair hair.
"Nice walk?" he asked shaking his head groggily, he must have slept badly last night on the floor.
"Yes, I haven't been outside in a long time." Gia's reply caught at his curiosity.
"How long?"
"I couldn't say, I've walked around cities for ages at night, but I haven't really been outside like that for years maybe."
"Years?" asked Eames, looking alarmed, they had turned off the motorway now into a slipway which lead to the outer London suburbs.
"Yeah." No one had much to say after that but Arthur found that he couldn't slip into sleep again, no matter how tired he felt. Anyway, it was better to be on the alert, his fingers brushed against the gun holstered at his waist and he thought again about how Gia had seemed to know instinctively that he would keep it there, sliding her hand under his shirt quick as blinking. Maybe I should use his chest holster in future he mused.
Eames was off the motorway now, driving quickly, too quickly, down the slipway and into Croydon proper. Arthur took in the dilapidated high street; all pealing paint, boarded up windows and thrift shops. The only establishments seemingly doing brisk business on the cold Sunday morning were the Green Man pub and Ladbroke's.
"Nice place." Arthur commented wryly.
"Don't knock it till you've tried it Artie, anyway it's a low rent and the landlord keeps to 'imself so I'm happy." Eames pulled the car up outside a large redbrick building, an unfortunate testament to post-war architecture.
Parking swiftly, Eames got out and the others followed, Gia glancing left and right as though she expected to see someone lurking in the shadows. Arthur noticed that she was soaked through from the snow even thought the heat had been on in the car.
"Come on," he said, offering her his arm, "lets get you inside."
Eames's apartment was unexpectedly large and homey, right in the middle of the building with windows overlooking the street. Two large and squashy armchairs competed for space in the living room with a faded, cherry red sofa and a large television. Two of the walls were completely lined with bookshelves filled with slightly dusty volumes, magazines and trinkets brought back from Eames's many travels.
As Eames went to collect everything he would need to make up Gia's new passport, she and Arthur continued into the kitchen. Everything in here was just as homey as the living room, pot and pans suspended from a rack, wooden cupboards, pictures and postcards stuck to the fridge. Arthur checked the fridge and was delighted to find some milk, mysteriously fresh so he set about making mugs of tea. The water was just set to boil when Eames returned brandishing a large Tupperware box, which he set on the breakfast island counter.
"Got it, now, where's my camera? I'm going to have to get a picture of you to put in, Ok?" Gia nodded in agreement.
"Eames?" Asked Arthur, returning from the kettle with three steaming mugs of tea one of which Eames accepted with a grin of thanks, "has someone been living in your apartment?"
"Nah, I got a housekeeper, told her to come round today."
"Right." Trying not to wonder too deeply about Eames's myriad living situations around the world and the army of part-time housekeepers he must have at his employ, Arthur looked about for Gia.
She'd had wandered off and going to find her so that he could take her passport photo, Eames found her asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket. She still looked painfully young to him but he shook her awake and led her, slightly grumpy, back into the kitchen.
The whole passport making procedure wad surprisingly quick, Eames took Gia's picture, printed it, cut it to size and fitted it into a stolen passport, which he had unearthed from the box. Gia was entranced watching Eames' deft work, barely touching the seaming mug or tea Arthur put in front of her.
"How'd you learn to do that?" she asked at length.
"What? Making passports?" She nodded.
"Been doing it since school days, to make a little extra cash. I started off doing fake ids for my friends and graduated to this, much more lucrative. One of these beauties" he held up the almost completed document, blowing on the glue to get it to dry faster, "could set you back almost five hundred pounds."
"I don't have any money." Gia said quickly, fingers tightening momentarily around the teacup.
"That's alright darlin' this one's on the house." He said smiling and she relaxed.
They left the apartment just before noon heading straight for the airport, Arthur driving and Eames in the back seat next to Gia who appeared to be sleeping. Arthur didn't blame her, he'd heard her get put up and down several times during the night but in the end the comforting had fallen to Eames. At the time Arthur had pretended to be asleep as he'd heard Eames gently putting the girl to bed and although he knew the others would never know anything different he still felt like he was intruding on something, which should have been private. Unfortunately, Arthur's upbringing had never permitted him to be a heavy sleeper and the slightest disturbance left him wide-awake and alert. He was paying for it now of course; the dull headache that had started as they left the rest stop had intensified with every bump in the road or honk of a car horn.
As they were leaving the outskirts of the suburbs and trundling onto the motorway Eames suddenly called out for Arthur to stop the car.
"Wait mate, we've forgotten about the flipping cash!" two sets of eyes turned on him instantly. "Can't exactly put it in a suitcase can we?" Eames was of course talking about the duffle bag of money Gia had stolen out of Wheeler's apartment on the day of her escape. Arthur cursed, Eames was right about that. There was no way that customs would allow it. Christ, he thought in irritation, this whole operation has just been one bloody thing after another.
"What do you suggest we do with it then?" he asked.
"Pull in here" said Eames, motioning to a side street leading to what seemed to Arthur to be a nondescript business park, but with Eames you could never be sure. "I might have to pull in a few favors but I think there's a man here who might be able to wash it for us"
"Wash it?" asked Gia piping up.
"Yeah, you know… money laundering. Not very legal but there you are." Eames shrugged and Gia looked confused.
"Right…"
Arthur pulled off the main drag and steered the car into a parking space near the main building. The tall and grey slab concrete construction reminded Arthur forcibly of The Walsh Building and the cramped apartment where they had met Gia yesterday. It seemed a lot longer ago to Arthur perhaps because so much had happened since. His eyes itched with tiredness but he rubbed them impatiently and followed Eames with a suitcase full of cash in each hand.
The elevator was broken so by the time Arthur had climbed five sets of steps with a heavy bag in each hand a film of sweat had broken out all over him. He wiped his brow as they rounded the last corner. This was definitely not his idea of a job well done, Arthur liked things neat, his clothes, hair and especially his work. That was why he'd left the army for dream work, it was the ultimate low-mess and high-cash job. Until now that is when you boss sends you half way across the world on a fool's errand he thought irritably.
Eames rapped on the door and there was a great shuffling and scraping of chains from the other side. The door swung open to reveal a portly man in a shiny suit, an impressive mustache adorning his upper lip like a small rodent.
"Ello mate" he roared jovially, embracing Eames like a long-lost brother.
"Ello Marty" Eames replied, clapping the man on the back, the look in his eye was decidedly less friendly. "We've come to talk business."
Marty cast a cursory eye over the two large bags next either side of Arthur and nodded, looking up and down the corridor as if to check for spies. They trooped in as Eames made the introductions, his eyes hardening as he saw the way Marty's gaze lingered on Gia for longer than necessary.
Marty, it transpired was a friend of Eames from his document-forging days. He was one of the first buyers of his forged passports and driver's licenses.
"Always 'ad the touch our Eames did."
Their laughter trailed off uncomfortably into silence. Eames broke it.
"So, Marty, what d'you say about a bit of a favor for old time's sake?"
"The money?" Marty, it seemed didn't miss a trick.
"Yeah, I've got three off shores you can route it too but I want it clean and I don't know how dirty it is."
"Don't know where it came from?" asked Marty in eyebrows raised in disbelief.
"Its mine." Piped up Gia, surprising everyone
"Yours is it darlin'?" Marty's voice turned oily as he addressed the girl who nodded stiffly.
"It was probably changed from Grivna" she explained.
"Ukraine?"
"Yes."
"Well that clears that up." Said Eames, eager to get going. "Will you do it?"
"What's in it for me?" asked Marty, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette.
"A cut."
"How much?"
"That's for Gia to decide, its her money."
They all looked to Gia who looked back, eyes wide. "What's a usual amount?" she asked Arthur quietly. Everyone leaned in to hear his answer.
"It depends on what service he's supplying- do you need the money now or in a year or two years? How clean does it need to be? Untraceable? Do you want cash in the end- another currency?"
Gia turned to Marty, who was now puffing away on his cigarette sending ash all over the table. "I need it in dollars, American money. If you send small amounts at a time that would be perfect."
"Untraceable?" asked Marty, a greedy gleam in his eye- this was where the money was in his business.
"What ever can be done quickest."
"I take twenty percent cut."
Gia looked at Arthur and Eames who shook their heads. "Ten."
"Fifteen."
"ten."
"twelve."
"Alright. Deal." Eames smiled, the girl was feisty.
They stood up from the table and dragged the bags into Marty's private office, locking them into a safe. Arthur had a sudden thought.
"Don't you want to count it?" he asked Gia.
She shook her head, "I know how much there was in the safe- it was the price Wheeler was paid to take me in the first place"
"Why would he be paid to take you- shouldn't it be the other way around?" asked Arthur, perplexed.
"Not this time, I'm a terrible house guest." She smiled somewhat bitterly.
A/N ok so this might have been the longest wait ever for a chapter I'M SO SORRY TO ANYONE WHO'S BEEN READING THIS! But I got super inspired and here's the result! Also I'm really hoping that this story is now going to find it's feet and we can get on with some romance and adventure (promises promises!)