Glitch - 9
Feb. 2nd, 2011 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tabi_essentiallyNot drunk this time, you guys. :D
** ** **
Arthur didn't open his eyes when he woke up. He didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't breathe. Or if he did, it was minimal. He heard Cobb come around a second later, heard him shuffling towards the bed.
"Did you get it?" Hollis asked. And then, "Is he still under?"
"I got it," Cobb said. "And Arthur... he should be awake."
Cobb trailed off, and Arthur waited. He hoped, desperately, that Cobb would catch on and wouldn't give anything away. He hadn't had time to even formulate a plan in the dream, much less articulate one, before shooting himself awake. Topside, it came to him easily.
They'd done this con once, ages ago, only the other way around.
Come on, Cobb. Remember.
"Arthur?" Cobb said.
There was a tremor in his voice, and without seeing his face, Arthur couldn't tell if it was sincere or not. He could only lie there and hope that Cobb hadn't lost his instinct for pulling off shit like this, for improvising and going along with it.
He felt Cobb's fingers on the pulse of his neck, where it was clear that he was alive. He waited.
"Jesus Christ," Cobb said, as he frantically unbuckled Arthur's other wrist. "Jesus Christ, Arthur. Come on!" He stopped to shake him. "Someone get a crash cart in here!"
Please don't, Arthur thought. I've had enough of electricity. But Cobb must have been counting on Hollis's reply, or ready to put a stop to this if they did as he asked.
"Sorry, Cobb," Hollis said. His voice sounded cautious. "You know I can't do that."
"Fuck you!" Cobb shouted. "This was your end of the deal!"
He unbuckled Arthur's ankles next and made as if he was going to lift him off the table. Again, Arthur hoped that he wouldn't. He needed to be just where he was. To his relief, Cobb let him sink back down, instead just gripping him under the shoulders. Which meant that, yes, Cobb was reading him. Just like the old days.
"I held up my end of the deal," Hollis said.
"You piece of shit," Cobb said, over Arthur's shoulder.
Hollis's silence was telling. He wasn't buying it. That was all right, because Arthur only needed a few seconds and the right circumstances.
Let's hurry this along, Arthur thought. It was hard to hold still when his muscles still wanted to twitch and spasm. He let his head fall back over Cobb's arm and struggled to be as still, as dead as possible. And Cobb was so bad at this acting shit, just as bad as Arthur was. Worse, probably. At least Cobb was hiding his face in Arthur's neck as he pretended to cry by shaking his shoulders.
"Check him," Hollis ordered.
Arthur had not seen the guard, or intern or tech or whoever it was that had joined them in the room when they'd taken Eames away. All he knew was what Eames had told him: There's a man next to you, and he's got a tranq in his hand, and a gun in a side holster. Arthur's arms were free, hanging limp over the sides of the arm restraints as Cobb lifted him half off the bed.
He felt the guard move closer to his side, so that Arthur's arm was almost at the man's back. He felt the guard's fingers press into his neck. They lingered for a second, then pressed more firmly.
"Shit, he's not..." the guy began.
But Arthur had already lifted the gun from the holster. He opened his eyes and took a second to have a quick look at his surroundings: One alarmed but disarmed guard, Hollis at the head of his bed, Cobb still kind of in his way, and that expansive, glass-walled spectator room above him.
He took note of all of it in less than a second, and then he fired the gun at the glass. The spectators screamed, scattering. It was the perfect diversion because it came from above, not from him. And because the guard still hadn't realized that Arthur had his gun.
Glass rained down and Arthur shot again, this time at the windows behind him. He caught sight of Hollis's shocked, almost blank face as the windows above him shattered.
Cobb leapt off of him, clearing the way, and Arthur sat up and shot the guard, hitting him in the shoulder. The guard dropped his tranq gun and Cobb ran to the other side of the bed and dove for it.
An alarm blared to life. A few spectators lingered in the observatory, panicking, trying to find the exits. Arthur didn't bother with them; he had to save ammo in case he needed to shoot his way out of here. He was hoping that he wouldn't. He had collateral.
"Don't even grab whatever you're reaching for," he told Hollis, aiming the gun at him while still lying down.
Hollis let his hand fall to his side. Then he backed up a few steps and raised both hands. His smirk told Arthur that he still thought he was ahead of the game. And maybe he was.
"Got it," Cobb said, holding on to the tranq gun, giving it a quick once-over to make sure he knew how to fire it.
"Good," Arthur said. He didn't take his eyes off Hollis. He waved the gun at him, indicating that he should move to the foot of the bed. Gingerly, he put his feet on the floor and eased himself off the bed.
Dizziness swept him like a wave and he sat back down. His legs trembled and he waited for it to pass. Black spots danced in front of his eyes.
"Give me the gun," Cobb said.
"Nope. I got it. Just give me..."
"We don't have a second," Cobb said.
"You probably don't," Hollis offered. "I did have Mr. Eames taken away for execution. It's unlikely that you can find where they're going to carry it out, and if you could, you could probably not get there in time."
"I'm not a fan of mindlessly slaughtering people," Arthur said. His vision cleared of black spots and he looked at Hollis again. "But I do need a human shield to get out, and I'm willing to do things that I don't enjoy doing to escape. Are we clear?"
Hollis nodded, still smirking. "Perfectly, Arthur."
"I don't need you alive, to tell me where he is. I'm not going to go out of my way to spare you. If someone shoots at us, you take the bullet. Still clear?"
"Are you stalling until you can stand up?" Hollis asked.
"If I was, then I'm through now." This time when he got up, his legs held him. His vision cleared and grew sharp, every edge defined. Just the way he expected it to be.
Cobb patted Hollis down efficiently, like a man who had never made pancakes for weekend cartoon wake-ups or attended a PTA meeting. "Car keys," he said, lifting them from Hollis's belt. "SUV."
"Let's go," Arthur said.
The two of them got behind Hollis, Cobb to Arthur's back, walking backwards. Arthur put Hollis into a submission hold around his neck, using his stronger, uninjured arm. He held the gun to his head with his other hand. Then he realized that he didn't like that Cobb was exposed behind him.
"Switch with me," Arthur said.
"What the fuck, Arthur."
"Cobb, just do it." He pushed the gun into Cobb's hand, shoved Hollis at him, and took the tranq gun. Cobb was sandwiched between Hollis as a shield, and Arthur behind him, covering his back.
"Jesus," Cobb griped. "I'm not incapable." He pushed Hollis forward toward the door.
A group of men came bursting through the door before they got to it. When they saw what was going on, they hesitated.
"Drop your weapons!" Cobb shouted at them. "I don't need him alive."
"Do as he says for now," Hollis said. "I'll take care of this later."
Arthur had no doubt that Hollis was nowhere near through with them, but he intended to end Hollis's life once his usefulness was up anyway. The guards did as Cobb ordered and allowed them to pass. If they had any thoughts of opening fire on Arthur, they ended when Arthur blithely fired two darts into two guards. As they fell, he took their guns, too, and relieved them of their ammo.
The three of them made their way out into the hall.
"I wasn't implying that you were incapable," Arthur said. "Stop getting defensive. It's my job to have your back."
"You haven't been my point for years, Arthur."
"Old habits. Christ, shut up and keep moving."
They moved down the white, tiled halls. The alarm kept screaming, and more guards in flak jackets came crashing around the corner. Arthur shot one in the leg with the tranq gun, over Hollis's and Cobb's shoulders.
"Next time it'll be an actual bullet," he said to the others. "And I'll aim for your soft little heads. You know who I am. You know I'll do it." In fact he had no idea if anyone knew who he was, these measly grunts. Maybe they didn't. But, if they hadn't in the past, they did now.
"Let us pass," Hollis said calmly.
They made it around another corner.
"How'd you know I'd get your con?" Cobb asked.
"I didn't. I just couldn't think of anything else to do. Neither of us can act for shit, so I was just hoping."
"I think I did pretty good," Cobb said.
"I'll make sure you get nominated for the Bullshit award."
"The award for Quickest Asspull goes to you," Cobb said. "As usual."
They made it to a stairwell.
"Do you know where we're going?" Arthur asked.
"Garage."
"Oh. Good. That makes sense."
Cobb hit the panic button on the keys, and they followed the alarm to Hollis's car. Cobb handed Hollis off to Arthur and then rifled around under the seat. He found another gun, rope, duct tape, a box of hypodermics, and a PASIV device.
"Wow," Cobb said, looking over the various items. "I don't even want to know how you spend your free time." He pulled the PASIV out.
"You're going to try to extract his location from me?" Hollis asked, as Arthur shoved him into the back and got in behind him.
Arthur didn't answer. Cobb threw the duct tape to him, and Arthur made quick work of taping Hollis's hands behind his back as Cobb started the car.
"Where are we going?" Cobb asked.
"Get out of here and go east," Arthur said. "Just east, nothing specific yet."
"Right."
Cobb apparently hadn't lost his knack for driving like a criminal, and he took off, the tires screaming as the car sped out of the garage and up onto the street.
Arthur grabbed the PASIV device.
"What do you plan to do with me?" Hollis asked. His voice still sounded even, unconcerned.
Arthur didn't answer.
"You won't succeed, Arthur," Hollis went on. "If you put me under and try to do to me what you did to the others, with the thing inside your head, I assure you, you'll fail. I wrote the program; it's mine. And you won't be able to torture me for information up here, either."
Arthur didn't glance at him as he said, "You don't get to talk to me. And you certainly don't get any answers."
Hollis pretended he hadn't heard him. "I pulled your strings for years, Arthur. I know the inside of your head. I wiped your brain down for prints after every job you did for me; you've forgotten everyone at SomniCore, did you know that? It's why you don't remember me. But I remember you. You don't have the stomach for torture. It's what made you a good point man. And you'll fail as a killer. I didn't pick you because you were ruthless. I picked you because you weren't. Your blood is too warm for murder."
"You've got enough of it on your hands to know," Cobb said. Arthur wished he wouldn't. He would so much rather let Hollis babble into the void.
"Say you even find your partner," Hollis said. "He'll already be dead. And what will you do? Kill me? Kill the men who killed him too? I doubt you'd be able to do it. Physically or otherwise."
Little you know, Arthur thought, but refrained from saying. He rolled up his own sleeve and looked for a usable vein for the PASIV.
"Confucius said," Hollis went on, "that those who embark on a journey of revenge should dig two graves, Arthur."
Finally, Arthur had something to answer. "Oh, don't worry about that," he said, slipping the needle into his arm. "I've already dug about thirty."
He set the PASIV to two minutes and went under.
** ** ** **
Eames was aware that he was going east and that he was on Long Island outside of New York, or New York City or Manhattan or Bronx or something like that. An island, with lots of water. The van was cold, where he was trussed up in the back. His head ached, spun, swam. They'd shot him up with something again.
They'd originally gotten hold of him right there in front of Hollis, as he tried to shield Arthur from their guns. He had taken one out with a roundhouse kick to the head, smashing teeth and bones. Another with the back of his elbow. A third, he'd crushed his windpipe like paper. The feel of it, and the sound, made him sick, but he didn't have a choice. They were so outnumbered, Cobb and Arthur were under; it wasn't playing fair. Eames liked fair. Unfair got him angry, in any situation.
But then one of them had pressed a gun to Arthur's head while he was deeply under—pressed it right up against the burn mark on his temple from when they'd shot him full of electricity—and then Eames had quit his struggling.
Hollis had instructed him to go quietly, that Cobb and Arthur would not be harmed while they still had something he needed.
Then they'd drugged him just to make sure he wouldn't resist once he was out of the room. The drug, however, had the added effect of sending him down into the dream, where he could access Arthur's thoughts, and now Cobb's, too. Thus, he had warned them of what they would face when they woke up.
So now he was in the back of this van with a few broken ribs, a concussion, and drugged to the teeth, but he knew which way they were going.
He also knew that currently, he was a bargaining chip. Voices had come squawking over the radios of his captors, frantic and yelling about the escaped prisoners, and the kidnapping of Hollis at gunpoint.
Ahh, Arthur, he thought, with a smile.
More than that, he felt, strangely, that Arthur was behind him. Almost lurking right over his shoulder, like a shadow. That if he turned, he would see him there. In fact, he very nearly felt that Arthur was pulling him backwards. As if his long, strong hands were on his shoulders, urging him down.
Eames.
With nothing else to do, he followed what he was certain was Arthur's voice. He fell backwards into the dream.
Closing his eyes felt like waking up, and when he opened them again, he saw a shadow. It was vague and human-shaped, indistinguishable but for two hazy, glowing blue lights.
"Ahh, Arthur," he said.
"Don't 'ahh Arthur' me," the shadow answered. "Where are you and what's going on? Brief me."
"In a van. Eastbound. There are five or six men here with me, and I don't know if they're bringing more in when we get to where we're going. They know you have Hollis, which is what is keeping them from shooting me in the head."
"How badly are you hurt?"
"Severely drugged, a little banged around but nothing that your tender ministrations won't mend later. And might I add how heartening it is to see your...well, your murderous, glowing eyes, at any rate."
"Yeah, well, I can't even see you, I can just hear you. What are their plans, do you know?"
"They'll pretend to trade me for Hollis, and then they'll kill us all anyway. They mentioned the word 'bodies' and they mentioned the word 'bridge.'"
Silence from Arthur. Eames could feel the tension in him. He suddenly remembered Arthur's nightmare, his terrified voice babbling about a bridge. You're going to die and I won't get there in time.
But certainly there was no way for Arthur to know any such thing. Not unless...
"Arthur, you must have picked up on their plans via the remote dreamshare after they put their Glitch into you. That's all. It doesn't mean anything else. It's not as if you saw the future."
"I don't like that idea, but I can't think of any other ones," Arthur said. The glow of his eyes cast downwards, as if he was looking at the floor, thinking. "We've got Hollis and we're in his car, eastbound on the LIE. We just got onto the Island."
"Then you're about ten minutes behind me. They'll want to trade. Contact them, but don't let Hollis talk to his men. See if you can keep the element of surprise, yes?"
"What if they start to think that Hollis is dead already, and they just kill you? We have to give them something."
"Well... All right. Then do this: Let Hollis give them one word, from his cell phone. You tell him what he's allowed to say, so he doesn't try to give them a code. But make sure you're talking to someone in this van, and make them put me on the phone. We'll use a code for ourselves, yes?"
"Ninth Wave," Arthur said.
"What?"
"That's our code. You say 'Ninth Wave' to me, so I know it's you."
Eames smiled, thinking of his reproduction of the painting on Arthur's wall. "Right," he said. "Ninth Wave."
"Good," Arthur said. "I'm gonna try to rig it so that Hollis can't run. They'll probably try to do the same to you. Can you fight back, if you have to?"
"My hands aren't free and I am a bit sedated. But I'll be lucid and probably somewhat capable. And you, Arthur? You weren't doing so well when I saw you last."
"I'm all right. I need a fucking shower." He gave a small laugh, which made Eames feel a bit lighter in his chest. "And maybe a bottle of electrolytes."
"Arthur. I'll see you in a little while, yes? We've tangled with worse."
"Have we?" Arthur asked.
Eames didn't know how to answer that. Yes, he thought: they had tangled with worse. But they had never been this badly off, either.
"We'll be fine," was all he said.
"Yeah," Arthur said. "I'm gonna wake up now and truss this bastard up. See you topside in a little while."
Eames heard the firing of a gun, and then Arthur blinked out of the dream. No 'goodbye' and no drawn-out, useless sentiments. Arthur was a master of keeping to time constraints.
Eames took a few more minutes of rest before he felt the van shift into a turn. He knew it would all come down soon.
** ** ** **
"Right," Arthur said, reaching to the front seat where Cobb had thrown Hollis's length of rope.
"Right what?" Cobb asked.
"We give Hollis's men the word that he's alive, and we trade him for Eames."
Hollis barked out a short, dark laugh. "You do realize it's not going to work like that, don't you?"
Arthur ignored him for now, and then dug his hand into Hollis's pocket, retrieving his cell phone. He went through his contacts and saw that they were similar to Arthur's own: no names attached to them.
"Tell me who to dial, whoever has Eames. I want to hear him. Then you're going to say one phrase to your contact, and I'll tell you what it's going to be. You say nothing else. Clear?"
Hollis sighed. "Whatever you say. Dial number three."
Arthur did, and waited. When the person on the other end picked up, there was silence.
"This is Arthur," he said. "I've got Hollis here with me and I'm willing to make a trade. I'm very reasonable until you give me cause not to be. Do you understand?"
"Put Hollis on," a man's voice said.
"You don't give me orders," Arthur said. "You have a relatively obscure, freelance forger with you. I have the head of SomniCore, as well as access to all of his files, and everything in his mind. Put the forger on the line first."
He heard some shuffling, some muffled talking as the other man put his hand over the speaker, and a frustrated curse. He heard the phone being passed around. In the background, sounds of the van on the highway.
And then, Eames's voice, slurred, heavy, and rough: "Ninth wave."
The phone was clearly wrenched away from him and the man came back on the line. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means I fucked your mother," Arthur said, because although it was good to be thought of as reasonable and in control, it was equally necessary to be thought of as slightly mental. "Hold on for your boss." He pulled the phone away from his mouth and told Hollis, "Your exact words are: 'I'm alive and willing to trade.' If you say anything other than that, I'll shoot you in the foot. Okay?"
Hollis nodded. Arthur unholstered one of his guns and aimed it at Hollis's foot before putting the phone up to the side of his head.
"I'm alive and willing to trade," Hollis said, staring ahead, still smiling vaguely in the dim, rhythmic lights of the street.
Arthur took the phone back. "I hope you got that, because that's all you're getting. Tell me where you are."
"There's a bridge off to the south of the next exit. It's deserted at this time of night. We'll do the trade there."
"Right," Arthur said. "Before you hang up, let me detail the situation to you. I know you're not planning on making a fair trade. I know you're going to make an attempt to kill me and my team anyway. But I also want you to know that the Glitch had some unexpected side effects that I've figured out how to exploit. I don't have to be asleep. And if you're kidding yourself that I'll be too weak to fight back or cause you any trouble, that will be a very big mistake on your part. I took out ten of you with a ketamine dart in my shoulder. Tell me you're hearing me."
"Affirmative," the man on the other end said.
"Good. This can go smoothly if you let it."
He hung up, pocketed the phone, and started winding the rope into a noose.
"I don't know what makes you think you're calling the shots," Hollis said. "Your partner is in just as much danger as I am. More, actually."
"The fact that you're taped up in your own car," Arthur began, as he finished up the noose and pulled the loops tight. Then he slipped it over Hollis's head. "And, you know, that I'm going to hang you off the bridge. Things like that. Take the next exit and go south, Cobb."
Cobb nodded, stared ahead at the exit, and showed no outward reaction to anything that Arthur said. He knew that he made Cobb uneasy when he worked like this. Mal had liked him for it, though.
Hollis stared ahead as Arthur held onto the rope.
"I might still shoot you in the foot," Arthur said.
Hollis kept smirking. Arthur looked out the window as Cobb turned the SUV onto the exit.
** ** ** **
Arthur always planned for things to go in entirely different directions than what he expected. Nothing surprised him, but at the same time, it was also impossible to know exactly how they were going to play out. He liked to remain fluid and keep all his options open.
He knew there would likely be a firefight, and he knew that Eames would need help at the end of all of this. He knew that there was a chance that more people would get on their tail and they'd have to ditch the car if they saw that happening, and make their way without one, somehow. He knew there would be injuries.
But there was no way to prepare for headshots, there just wasn't. You could know they were coming, but you could not prepare for them.
He did prepare for almost everything else. As they pulled up to the beginning of the bridge—and there was that small, high moon that he remembered—he got out of the car, leaving Hollis behind and telling Cobb to watch him for a second. Then he used Hollis's cell to dial a number he had memorized the first time he saw it.
It went right to the answering service. It was 2:23 AM, after all.
"Hey, it's me, it's, uhh, Scout," he said. "You said I could call you if I ran into trouble. I ran into it. I'm asking for a lot. I'm asking you to start driving to the Island the second you get this, with some bandages, some fluids, whatever you can scrape up. Just start driving and call this number when you get onto the Island. I'll tell you where to meet me. If I don't pick up, it'll be a man named Cobb. Ask him for the password phrase. It's 'a soul awake.' Got that? If you call back and no one picks up, then turn around and go home. You don't have to do this. It would help, but you don't have to. I just want you to know that. Right, so. Umm. Thanks."
He ended the call and waved Cobb out of the car, before going back in to pull Hollis out by the rope around his throat.
As they exited the car at the northern side of the bridge, headlights blazed to life at the south end. The bridge was a small one, spanning only about thirty feet. The water below was slushy with ice.
"Stay in the car," Arthur told Cobb.
"Arthur, I'm not..."
"I need you to be behind the wheel waiting for us. Please. Just stay here and keep it running. And take this." He handed Cobb the phone. "If it rings, pick it up. If it's a girl, she'll ask you for the pass phrase. You know what it is. It's in English, all right?" That, Arthur knew, was enough to clue him in that it had been Arthur's password for years, only in French.
Cobb nodded.
"If we're done here, tell her where to meet us. If we're not, tell her to wait."
"Got it," Cobb said.
Arthur pushed Hollis ahead of him, still holding onto the rope. He pulled his gun free, too.
"Do exactly as I tell you," he told Hollis. "You said I didn't have the stomach for murder. You're right. You can live through this if you do as I say. If you don't, then it won't be murder, will it?"
"You're far too confident," Hollis said.
"Step over the guardrail."
Hollis swiveled his head to look back at Arthur. Arthur nudged him in the face with the gun. It was the best idea he could come up with. Hollis's dangling body would be the perfect distraction, if he needed one. Finally, Hollis did as he was told. The ledge outside of the guardrail offered about a foot in width of walking space.
Silhouetted on the other side of the bridge, a small group of men came out of the van. Between two of them was the unmistakable shape of the man he knew best. He seemed able to walk fairly well. Arthur felt a moment's relief. They weren't dragging him, at least.
"Keep walking forward," Arthur told Hollis.
Hollis obeyed, and Arthur walked behind him, holding the rope tightly. When they were close enough to the center of the bridge, he told him to stop. Then he tied the rope securely to the guard rail. Arthur was a man of knots and bindings; he could do this part in his sleep.
All in all, it seemed an easy trade.
And then the other group opened fire.
True to his word, Arthur shoved Hollis off the bridge and left him to strangle slowly, while he dived to the ground and returned fire.
Two of the men came running towards him. He was at a disadvantage because their high beam lights were in his face. But they weren't heading for him, they were racing to save their boss, who was probably jerking like a fish on a line.
Eames full-body shoved one of the men flanking him, knocking him to the ground even with his hands tied. He fell too, as Arthur ducked and ran towards them. They were nothing more than moving shadows, yet he saw Eames, from the ground, leg-sweep the second guy. When he got him on the ground, he got both legs around the guy's neck and squeezed.
The first man got to his feet and tried to pull Eames off of the guy he was strangling with his legs. Arthur shot at him, and he must have hit him, because the guy spun and fell.
Arthur ran another few feet towards Eames, totally exposed in the light. He counted on the fact that two of the men were struggling to free Hollis, and the other two were incapacitated.
Eames got to his feet, staggering too close to the the guardrail. Arthur was a few yards away from him, his dream repeating visually in his head along with the details Eames had given him.
I'm in a van with five men, maybe six.
Arthur only counted four.
This was because the fifth man had been hiding behind the open front door of the van. Arthur figured this out in that second, but didn't have a clear shot to fire at him.
He heard the shot, and he saw Eames's head snap back. He saw the accompanying spray of blood, and then Eames was toppling backwards over the guardrail.
This was no dream. But Arthur felt none of the panic he'd felt in the dream, no sense of impending death or loss. It wasn't the first time he'd had to go in after his teammate when things went fubar.
He just leapt over the guardrail and dived into the icy water after him.
** ** ** **
NEXT PART
** ** **
Arthur didn't open his eyes when he woke up. He didn't move, didn't twitch, didn't breathe. Or if he did, it was minimal. He heard Cobb come around a second later, heard him shuffling towards the bed.
"Did you get it?" Hollis asked. And then, "Is he still under?"
"I got it," Cobb said. "And Arthur... he should be awake."
Cobb trailed off, and Arthur waited. He hoped, desperately, that Cobb would catch on and wouldn't give anything away. He hadn't had time to even formulate a plan in the dream, much less articulate one, before shooting himself awake. Topside, it came to him easily.
They'd done this con once, ages ago, only the other way around.
Come on, Cobb. Remember.
"Arthur?" Cobb said.
There was a tremor in his voice, and without seeing his face, Arthur couldn't tell if it was sincere or not. He could only lie there and hope that Cobb hadn't lost his instinct for pulling off shit like this, for improvising and going along with it.
He felt Cobb's fingers on the pulse of his neck, where it was clear that he was alive. He waited.
"Jesus Christ," Cobb said, as he frantically unbuckled Arthur's other wrist. "Jesus Christ, Arthur. Come on!" He stopped to shake him. "Someone get a crash cart in here!"
Please don't, Arthur thought. I've had enough of electricity. But Cobb must have been counting on Hollis's reply, or ready to put a stop to this if they did as he asked.
"Sorry, Cobb," Hollis said. His voice sounded cautious. "You know I can't do that."
"Fuck you!" Cobb shouted. "This was your end of the deal!"
He unbuckled Arthur's ankles next and made as if he was going to lift him off the table. Again, Arthur hoped that he wouldn't. He needed to be just where he was. To his relief, Cobb let him sink back down, instead just gripping him under the shoulders. Which meant that, yes, Cobb was reading him. Just like the old days.
"I held up my end of the deal," Hollis said.
"You piece of shit," Cobb said, over Arthur's shoulder.
Hollis's silence was telling. He wasn't buying it. That was all right, because Arthur only needed a few seconds and the right circumstances.
Let's hurry this along, Arthur thought. It was hard to hold still when his muscles still wanted to twitch and spasm. He let his head fall back over Cobb's arm and struggled to be as still, as dead as possible. And Cobb was so bad at this acting shit, just as bad as Arthur was. Worse, probably. At least Cobb was hiding his face in Arthur's neck as he pretended to cry by shaking his shoulders.
"Check him," Hollis ordered.
Arthur had not seen the guard, or intern or tech or whoever it was that had joined them in the room when they'd taken Eames away. All he knew was what Eames had told him: There's a man next to you, and he's got a tranq in his hand, and a gun in a side holster. Arthur's arms were free, hanging limp over the sides of the arm restraints as Cobb lifted him half off the bed.
He felt the guard move closer to his side, so that Arthur's arm was almost at the man's back. He felt the guard's fingers press into his neck. They lingered for a second, then pressed more firmly.
"Shit, he's not..." the guy began.
But Arthur had already lifted the gun from the holster. He opened his eyes and took a second to have a quick look at his surroundings: One alarmed but disarmed guard, Hollis at the head of his bed, Cobb still kind of in his way, and that expansive, glass-walled spectator room above him.
He took note of all of it in less than a second, and then he fired the gun at the glass. The spectators screamed, scattering. It was the perfect diversion because it came from above, not from him. And because the guard still hadn't realized that Arthur had his gun.
Glass rained down and Arthur shot again, this time at the windows behind him. He caught sight of Hollis's shocked, almost blank face as the windows above him shattered.
Cobb leapt off of him, clearing the way, and Arthur sat up and shot the guard, hitting him in the shoulder. The guard dropped his tranq gun and Cobb ran to the other side of the bed and dove for it.
An alarm blared to life. A few spectators lingered in the observatory, panicking, trying to find the exits. Arthur didn't bother with them; he had to save ammo in case he needed to shoot his way out of here. He was hoping that he wouldn't. He had collateral.
"Don't even grab whatever you're reaching for," he told Hollis, aiming the gun at him while still lying down.
Hollis let his hand fall to his side. Then he backed up a few steps and raised both hands. His smirk told Arthur that he still thought he was ahead of the game. And maybe he was.
"Got it," Cobb said, holding on to the tranq gun, giving it a quick once-over to make sure he knew how to fire it.
"Good," Arthur said. He didn't take his eyes off Hollis. He waved the gun at him, indicating that he should move to the foot of the bed. Gingerly, he put his feet on the floor and eased himself off the bed.
Dizziness swept him like a wave and he sat back down. His legs trembled and he waited for it to pass. Black spots danced in front of his eyes.
"Give me the gun," Cobb said.
"Nope. I got it. Just give me..."
"We don't have a second," Cobb said.
"You probably don't," Hollis offered. "I did have Mr. Eames taken away for execution. It's unlikely that you can find where they're going to carry it out, and if you could, you could probably not get there in time."
"I'm not a fan of mindlessly slaughtering people," Arthur said. His vision cleared of black spots and he looked at Hollis again. "But I do need a human shield to get out, and I'm willing to do things that I don't enjoy doing to escape. Are we clear?"
Hollis nodded, still smirking. "Perfectly, Arthur."
"I don't need you alive, to tell me where he is. I'm not going to go out of my way to spare you. If someone shoots at us, you take the bullet. Still clear?"
"Are you stalling until you can stand up?" Hollis asked.
"If I was, then I'm through now." This time when he got up, his legs held him. His vision cleared and grew sharp, every edge defined. Just the way he expected it to be.
Cobb patted Hollis down efficiently, like a man who had never made pancakes for weekend cartoon wake-ups or attended a PTA meeting. "Car keys," he said, lifting them from Hollis's belt. "SUV."
"Let's go," Arthur said.
The two of them got behind Hollis, Cobb to Arthur's back, walking backwards. Arthur put Hollis into a submission hold around his neck, using his stronger, uninjured arm. He held the gun to his head with his other hand. Then he realized that he didn't like that Cobb was exposed behind him.
"Switch with me," Arthur said.
"What the fuck, Arthur."
"Cobb, just do it." He pushed the gun into Cobb's hand, shoved Hollis at him, and took the tranq gun. Cobb was sandwiched between Hollis as a shield, and Arthur behind him, covering his back.
"Jesus," Cobb griped. "I'm not incapable." He pushed Hollis forward toward the door.
A group of men came bursting through the door before they got to it. When they saw what was going on, they hesitated.
"Drop your weapons!" Cobb shouted at them. "I don't need him alive."
"Do as he says for now," Hollis said. "I'll take care of this later."
Arthur had no doubt that Hollis was nowhere near through with them, but he intended to end Hollis's life once his usefulness was up anyway. The guards did as Cobb ordered and allowed them to pass. If they had any thoughts of opening fire on Arthur, they ended when Arthur blithely fired two darts into two guards. As they fell, he took their guns, too, and relieved them of their ammo.
The three of them made their way out into the hall.
"I wasn't implying that you were incapable," Arthur said. "Stop getting defensive. It's my job to have your back."
"You haven't been my point for years, Arthur."
"Old habits. Christ, shut up and keep moving."
They moved down the white, tiled halls. The alarm kept screaming, and more guards in flak jackets came crashing around the corner. Arthur shot one in the leg with the tranq gun, over Hollis's and Cobb's shoulders.
"Next time it'll be an actual bullet," he said to the others. "And I'll aim for your soft little heads. You know who I am. You know I'll do it." In fact he had no idea if anyone knew who he was, these measly grunts. Maybe they didn't. But, if they hadn't in the past, they did now.
"Let us pass," Hollis said calmly.
They made it around another corner.
"How'd you know I'd get your con?" Cobb asked.
"I didn't. I just couldn't think of anything else to do. Neither of us can act for shit, so I was just hoping."
"I think I did pretty good," Cobb said.
"I'll make sure you get nominated for the Bullshit award."
"The award for Quickest Asspull goes to you," Cobb said. "As usual."
They made it to a stairwell.
"Do you know where we're going?" Arthur asked.
"Garage."
"Oh. Good. That makes sense."
Cobb hit the panic button on the keys, and they followed the alarm to Hollis's car. Cobb handed Hollis off to Arthur and then rifled around under the seat. He found another gun, rope, duct tape, a box of hypodermics, and a PASIV device.
"Wow," Cobb said, looking over the various items. "I don't even want to know how you spend your free time." He pulled the PASIV out.
"You're going to try to extract his location from me?" Hollis asked, as Arthur shoved him into the back and got in behind him.
Arthur didn't answer. Cobb threw the duct tape to him, and Arthur made quick work of taping Hollis's hands behind his back as Cobb started the car.
"Where are we going?" Cobb asked.
"Get out of here and go east," Arthur said. "Just east, nothing specific yet."
"Right."
Cobb apparently hadn't lost his knack for driving like a criminal, and he took off, the tires screaming as the car sped out of the garage and up onto the street.
Arthur grabbed the PASIV device.
"What do you plan to do with me?" Hollis asked. His voice still sounded even, unconcerned.
Arthur didn't answer.
"You won't succeed, Arthur," Hollis went on. "If you put me under and try to do to me what you did to the others, with the thing inside your head, I assure you, you'll fail. I wrote the program; it's mine. And you won't be able to torture me for information up here, either."
Arthur didn't glance at him as he said, "You don't get to talk to me. And you certainly don't get any answers."
Hollis pretended he hadn't heard him. "I pulled your strings for years, Arthur. I know the inside of your head. I wiped your brain down for prints after every job you did for me; you've forgotten everyone at SomniCore, did you know that? It's why you don't remember me. But I remember you. You don't have the stomach for torture. It's what made you a good point man. And you'll fail as a killer. I didn't pick you because you were ruthless. I picked you because you weren't. Your blood is too warm for murder."
"You've got enough of it on your hands to know," Cobb said. Arthur wished he wouldn't. He would so much rather let Hollis babble into the void.
"Say you even find your partner," Hollis said. "He'll already be dead. And what will you do? Kill me? Kill the men who killed him too? I doubt you'd be able to do it. Physically or otherwise."
Little you know, Arthur thought, but refrained from saying. He rolled up his own sleeve and looked for a usable vein for the PASIV.
"Confucius said," Hollis went on, "that those who embark on a journey of revenge should dig two graves, Arthur."
Finally, Arthur had something to answer. "Oh, don't worry about that," he said, slipping the needle into his arm. "I've already dug about thirty."
He set the PASIV to two minutes and went under.
** ** ** **
Eames was aware that he was going east and that he was on Long Island outside of New York, or New York City or Manhattan or Bronx or something like that. An island, with lots of water. The van was cold, where he was trussed up in the back. His head ached, spun, swam. They'd shot him up with something again.
They'd originally gotten hold of him right there in front of Hollis, as he tried to shield Arthur from their guns. He had taken one out with a roundhouse kick to the head, smashing teeth and bones. Another with the back of his elbow. A third, he'd crushed his windpipe like paper. The feel of it, and the sound, made him sick, but he didn't have a choice. They were so outnumbered, Cobb and Arthur were under; it wasn't playing fair. Eames liked fair. Unfair got him angry, in any situation.
But then one of them had pressed a gun to Arthur's head while he was deeply under—pressed it right up against the burn mark on his temple from when they'd shot him full of electricity—and then Eames had quit his struggling.
Hollis had instructed him to go quietly, that Cobb and Arthur would not be harmed while they still had something he needed.
Then they'd drugged him just to make sure he wouldn't resist once he was out of the room. The drug, however, had the added effect of sending him down into the dream, where he could access Arthur's thoughts, and now Cobb's, too. Thus, he had warned them of what they would face when they woke up.
So now he was in the back of this van with a few broken ribs, a concussion, and drugged to the teeth, but he knew which way they were going.
He also knew that currently, he was a bargaining chip. Voices had come squawking over the radios of his captors, frantic and yelling about the escaped prisoners, and the kidnapping of Hollis at gunpoint.
Ahh, Arthur, he thought, with a smile.
More than that, he felt, strangely, that Arthur was behind him. Almost lurking right over his shoulder, like a shadow. That if he turned, he would see him there. In fact, he very nearly felt that Arthur was pulling him backwards. As if his long, strong hands were on his shoulders, urging him down.
Eames.
With nothing else to do, he followed what he was certain was Arthur's voice. He fell backwards into the dream.
Closing his eyes felt like waking up, and when he opened them again, he saw a shadow. It was vague and human-shaped, indistinguishable but for two hazy, glowing blue lights.
"Ahh, Arthur," he said.
"Don't 'ahh Arthur' me," the shadow answered. "Where are you and what's going on? Brief me."
"In a van. Eastbound. There are five or six men here with me, and I don't know if they're bringing more in when we get to where we're going. They know you have Hollis, which is what is keeping them from shooting me in the head."
"How badly are you hurt?"
"Severely drugged, a little banged around but nothing that your tender ministrations won't mend later. And might I add how heartening it is to see your...well, your murderous, glowing eyes, at any rate."
"Yeah, well, I can't even see you, I can just hear you. What are their plans, do you know?"
"They'll pretend to trade me for Hollis, and then they'll kill us all anyway. They mentioned the word 'bodies' and they mentioned the word 'bridge.'"
Silence from Arthur. Eames could feel the tension in him. He suddenly remembered Arthur's nightmare, his terrified voice babbling about a bridge. You're going to die and I won't get there in time.
But certainly there was no way for Arthur to know any such thing. Not unless...
"Arthur, you must have picked up on their plans via the remote dreamshare after they put their Glitch into you. That's all. It doesn't mean anything else. It's not as if you saw the future."
"I don't like that idea, but I can't think of any other ones," Arthur said. The glow of his eyes cast downwards, as if he was looking at the floor, thinking. "We've got Hollis and we're in his car, eastbound on the LIE. We just got onto the Island."
"Then you're about ten minutes behind me. They'll want to trade. Contact them, but don't let Hollis talk to his men. See if you can keep the element of surprise, yes?"
"What if they start to think that Hollis is dead already, and they just kill you? We have to give them something."
"Well... All right. Then do this: Let Hollis give them one word, from his cell phone. You tell him what he's allowed to say, so he doesn't try to give them a code. But make sure you're talking to someone in this van, and make them put me on the phone. We'll use a code for ourselves, yes?"
"Ninth Wave," Arthur said.
"What?"
"That's our code. You say 'Ninth Wave' to me, so I know it's you."
Eames smiled, thinking of his reproduction of the painting on Arthur's wall. "Right," he said. "Ninth Wave."
"Good," Arthur said. "I'm gonna try to rig it so that Hollis can't run. They'll probably try to do the same to you. Can you fight back, if you have to?"
"My hands aren't free and I am a bit sedated. But I'll be lucid and probably somewhat capable. And you, Arthur? You weren't doing so well when I saw you last."
"I'm all right. I need a fucking shower." He gave a small laugh, which made Eames feel a bit lighter in his chest. "And maybe a bottle of electrolytes."
"Arthur. I'll see you in a little while, yes? We've tangled with worse."
"Have we?" Arthur asked.
Eames didn't know how to answer that. Yes, he thought: they had tangled with worse. But they had never been this badly off, either.
"We'll be fine," was all he said.
"Yeah," Arthur said. "I'm gonna wake up now and truss this bastard up. See you topside in a little while."
Eames heard the firing of a gun, and then Arthur blinked out of the dream. No 'goodbye' and no drawn-out, useless sentiments. Arthur was a master of keeping to time constraints.
Eames took a few more minutes of rest before he felt the van shift into a turn. He knew it would all come down soon.
** ** ** **
"Right," Arthur said, reaching to the front seat where Cobb had thrown Hollis's length of rope.
"Right what?" Cobb asked.
"We give Hollis's men the word that he's alive, and we trade him for Eames."
Hollis barked out a short, dark laugh. "You do realize it's not going to work like that, don't you?"
Arthur ignored him for now, and then dug his hand into Hollis's pocket, retrieving his cell phone. He went through his contacts and saw that they were similar to Arthur's own: no names attached to them.
"Tell me who to dial, whoever has Eames. I want to hear him. Then you're going to say one phrase to your contact, and I'll tell you what it's going to be. You say nothing else. Clear?"
Hollis sighed. "Whatever you say. Dial number three."
Arthur did, and waited. When the person on the other end picked up, there was silence.
"This is Arthur," he said. "I've got Hollis here with me and I'm willing to make a trade. I'm very reasonable until you give me cause not to be. Do you understand?"
"Put Hollis on," a man's voice said.
"You don't give me orders," Arthur said. "You have a relatively obscure, freelance forger with you. I have the head of SomniCore, as well as access to all of his files, and everything in his mind. Put the forger on the line first."
He heard some shuffling, some muffled talking as the other man put his hand over the speaker, and a frustrated curse. He heard the phone being passed around. In the background, sounds of the van on the highway.
And then, Eames's voice, slurred, heavy, and rough: "Ninth wave."
The phone was clearly wrenched away from him and the man came back on the line. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means I fucked your mother," Arthur said, because although it was good to be thought of as reasonable and in control, it was equally necessary to be thought of as slightly mental. "Hold on for your boss." He pulled the phone away from his mouth and told Hollis, "Your exact words are: 'I'm alive and willing to trade.' If you say anything other than that, I'll shoot you in the foot. Okay?"
Hollis nodded. Arthur unholstered one of his guns and aimed it at Hollis's foot before putting the phone up to the side of his head.
"I'm alive and willing to trade," Hollis said, staring ahead, still smiling vaguely in the dim, rhythmic lights of the street.
Arthur took the phone back. "I hope you got that, because that's all you're getting. Tell me where you are."
"There's a bridge off to the south of the next exit. It's deserted at this time of night. We'll do the trade there."
"Right," Arthur said. "Before you hang up, let me detail the situation to you. I know you're not planning on making a fair trade. I know you're going to make an attempt to kill me and my team anyway. But I also want you to know that the Glitch had some unexpected side effects that I've figured out how to exploit. I don't have to be asleep. And if you're kidding yourself that I'll be too weak to fight back or cause you any trouble, that will be a very big mistake on your part. I took out ten of you with a ketamine dart in my shoulder. Tell me you're hearing me."
"Affirmative," the man on the other end said.
"Good. This can go smoothly if you let it."
He hung up, pocketed the phone, and started winding the rope into a noose.
"I don't know what makes you think you're calling the shots," Hollis said. "Your partner is in just as much danger as I am. More, actually."
"The fact that you're taped up in your own car," Arthur began, as he finished up the noose and pulled the loops tight. Then he slipped it over Hollis's head. "And, you know, that I'm going to hang you off the bridge. Things like that. Take the next exit and go south, Cobb."
Cobb nodded, stared ahead at the exit, and showed no outward reaction to anything that Arthur said. He knew that he made Cobb uneasy when he worked like this. Mal had liked him for it, though.
Hollis stared ahead as Arthur held onto the rope.
"I might still shoot you in the foot," Arthur said.
Hollis kept smirking. Arthur looked out the window as Cobb turned the SUV onto the exit.
** ** ** **
Arthur always planned for things to go in entirely different directions than what he expected. Nothing surprised him, but at the same time, it was also impossible to know exactly how they were going to play out. He liked to remain fluid and keep all his options open.
He knew there would likely be a firefight, and he knew that Eames would need help at the end of all of this. He knew that there was a chance that more people would get on their tail and they'd have to ditch the car if they saw that happening, and make their way without one, somehow. He knew there would be injuries.
But there was no way to prepare for headshots, there just wasn't. You could know they were coming, but you could not prepare for them.
He did prepare for almost everything else. As they pulled up to the beginning of the bridge—and there was that small, high moon that he remembered—he got out of the car, leaving Hollis behind and telling Cobb to watch him for a second. Then he used Hollis's cell to dial a number he had memorized the first time he saw it.
It went right to the answering service. It was 2:23 AM, after all.
"Hey, it's me, it's, uhh, Scout," he said. "You said I could call you if I ran into trouble. I ran into it. I'm asking for a lot. I'm asking you to start driving to the Island the second you get this, with some bandages, some fluids, whatever you can scrape up. Just start driving and call this number when you get onto the Island. I'll tell you where to meet me. If I don't pick up, it'll be a man named Cobb. Ask him for the password phrase. It's 'a soul awake.' Got that? If you call back and no one picks up, then turn around and go home. You don't have to do this. It would help, but you don't have to. I just want you to know that. Right, so. Umm. Thanks."
He ended the call and waved Cobb out of the car, before going back in to pull Hollis out by the rope around his throat.
As they exited the car at the northern side of the bridge, headlights blazed to life at the south end. The bridge was a small one, spanning only about thirty feet. The water below was slushy with ice.
"Stay in the car," Arthur told Cobb.
"Arthur, I'm not..."
"I need you to be behind the wheel waiting for us. Please. Just stay here and keep it running. And take this." He handed Cobb the phone. "If it rings, pick it up. If it's a girl, she'll ask you for the pass phrase. You know what it is. It's in English, all right?" That, Arthur knew, was enough to clue him in that it had been Arthur's password for years, only in French.
Cobb nodded.
"If we're done here, tell her where to meet us. If we're not, tell her to wait."
"Got it," Cobb said.
Arthur pushed Hollis ahead of him, still holding onto the rope. He pulled his gun free, too.
"Do exactly as I tell you," he told Hollis. "You said I didn't have the stomach for murder. You're right. You can live through this if you do as I say. If you don't, then it won't be murder, will it?"
"You're far too confident," Hollis said.
"Step over the guardrail."
Hollis swiveled his head to look back at Arthur. Arthur nudged him in the face with the gun. It was the best idea he could come up with. Hollis's dangling body would be the perfect distraction, if he needed one. Finally, Hollis did as he was told. The ledge outside of the guardrail offered about a foot in width of walking space.
Silhouetted on the other side of the bridge, a small group of men came out of the van. Between two of them was the unmistakable shape of the man he knew best. He seemed able to walk fairly well. Arthur felt a moment's relief. They weren't dragging him, at least.
"Keep walking forward," Arthur told Hollis.
Hollis obeyed, and Arthur walked behind him, holding the rope tightly. When they were close enough to the center of the bridge, he told him to stop. Then he tied the rope securely to the guard rail. Arthur was a man of knots and bindings; he could do this part in his sleep.
All in all, it seemed an easy trade.
And then the other group opened fire.
True to his word, Arthur shoved Hollis off the bridge and left him to strangle slowly, while he dived to the ground and returned fire.
Two of the men came running towards him. He was at a disadvantage because their high beam lights were in his face. But they weren't heading for him, they were racing to save their boss, who was probably jerking like a fish on a line.
Eames full-body shoved one of the men flanking him, knocking him to the ground even with his hands tied. He fell too, as Arthur ducked and ran towards them. They were nothing more than moving shadows, yet he saw Eames, from the ground, leg-sweep the second guy. When he got him on the ground, he got both legs around the guy's neck and squeezed.
The first man got to his feet and tried to pull Eames off of the guy he was strangling with his legs. Arthur shot at him, and he must have hit him, because the guy spun and fell.
Arthur ran another few feet towards Eames, totally exposed in the light. He counted on the fact that two of the men were struggling to free Hollis, and the other two were incapacitated.
Eames got to his feet, staggering too close to the the guardrail. Arthur was a few yards away from him, his dream repeating visually in his head along with the details Eames had given him.
I'm in a van with five men, maybe six.
Arthur only counted four.
This was because the fifth man had been hiding behind the open front door of the van. Arthur figured this out in that second, but didn't have a clear shot to fire at him.
He heard the shot, and he saw Eames's head snap back. He saw the accompanying spray of blood, and then Eames was toppling backwards over the guardrail.
This was no dream. But Arthur felt none of the panic he'd felt in the dream, no sense of impending death or loss. It wasn't the first time he'd had to go in after his teammate when things went fubar.
He just leapt over the guardrail and dived into the icy water after him.
** ** ** **
NEXT PART
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 04:32 am (UTC)By the way, your icon SLAYED me. LMAO! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:37 am (UTC)You and your cliffhangers!
This chapter was wickedly good! So glad to see Arthur is back to his BAMF self!
... :D!
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:40 am (UTC)So glad you like this Arthur! I think I want to make him a little bit playful and unhinged. I don't know why. Maybe because I read these two awesome fills about Psycho!Arthur and I was incepted. ^_~ hehee.
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:38 am (UTC)FUCK YES ARTHUR.
There should a a tumblr. fuckyeahtabi'sarthur haha.
And I love the bickering between Cobb and Arthur but DAMN IT GIRL, HOW CAN YOU LEAVE IT THERE? Did Eames really get shot in the head? Please don't make me wait.
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:41 am (UTC)I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger! I'm really not, though. ;)
Thank you for this comment! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:39 am (UTC)And then when Eames says 'bridge' and they make the connection to Arthur's nightmares.
And also the fact that Arthur is no longer all amnesia-lost. And he calls Emma! Or is that her name?! ZOUNDS, though!!!!
(tenterhooks, I am on them. seriously amazing chapter here.)
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:43 am (UTC)I actually sort of miss Lost!Arthur, drat it all. But now it's Eames's turn to suffer. :)
And as always, thank you! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:43 am (UTC)Oh, you heartless, heartless cliffhanger addict! *sigh* ;DD
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:47 am (UTC)I know, jeez, the cliffhangers. It's so terrible, I actually hate reading them myself, but I can't seem to quit writing them. ^_^ But you have to admit, it would be less fun if the end of the chapter was like, "But then they swam out." ;D Maybe I do like to read cliffhangers. :)
Are we ready to go to dinner now? I'm stalking! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:47 am (UTC)Jesus, Mary, and Joseph... I am telling myself Eames will be fine, but oh man... You've got me on the edge of my seat and I really hope you update quickly.
Also I love the offhand way Arthur told Hollis he was going to hang him off the bridge. It was like he was talking about his grocery list. It should not have been funny but it was fucking hilarious somehow.
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Date: 2011-02-03 04:53 am (UTC)Update in probably like two days? That seems to be my usual pattern so I will try to keep to that. ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 05:16 am (UTC)Also, if this isn't Hollis just BSing, this is truely rather terrifying: "I pulled your strings for years, Arthur. I know the inside of your head. I wiped your brain down for prints after every job you did for me; you've forgotten everyone at SomniCore, did you know that? It's why you don't remember me. But I remember you."
Yikes!
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Date: 2011-02-03 05:32 am (UTC)it is a bridge-hanger for sure! ^_^ Ha!
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 05:17 am (UTC)also Hollis being so calm is worrying me...WHAT DOES HE HAVE PLANNED?! besides shooting eames in the head of course
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Date: 2011-02-03 05:34 am (UTC)I have no idea. You actually just kind of gave me that thought. Damn it! Now what? O_O I'm not even sure if Hollis is dead or not. Should he be? I don't know yet.
Anyway. Thanks for the comment with the cool idea! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 05:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 06:36 am (UTC)it cannot end here now nooooooooo
I spent all day watching Doctor Who and pining over the loss of Rose and NOW. GOD. I kind of love you and hate you at the same time forhow fucking good this is, you know??
but seriously, this is bloody fantastic, only gets better with every chapter!! can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2011-02-03 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 07:21 am (UTC)This is how I feel about the ending of this chapter
This is how I feel about having to wait.
And this is how I'm going to be until the next chapter goes up.
I love this story!
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 07:24 am (UTC)But this. THIS. This is pure bloody evil!genius, seriously. I mean...gah. (see? incoherence is the only way to deal with your fic haha) Anyways. This really is brilliant. I love that Eames and Arthur can communicate through this Glitch program, and I lovelovelove Arthur That Was and how BAMF Arthur is, calculating and always always thinking.
I am completely just on the edge of my seat waiting for the next part because EAMESSSSS. God. I was actually reminded of that scene in 'Brick' and I was horrified for all its implications.
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:16 am (UTC)Oh man, that shooting scene in Brick? So horrifying indeed. O_O
I really hope that the next part (which is up now) was worth the wait. ^_^ Thank you!
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Date: 2011-02-03 07:26 am (UTC)Juggernaut Arthur returns. Love him HANGING Hollis- Arthur is not a man to piss off. And evil cliffhanger of doom is evil.
Also loved "A Soul Awake" as the password.
Love the Ninth Wave, btw....
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:18 am (UTC)Thank you! As always! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 07:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:20 am (UTC)I hope you like the next part! Thanks! ^_^
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Date: 2011-02-03 08:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 08:50 am (UTC)YOU MEANIE!
(but is okay because I love you).
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 11:10 am (UTC)Please more soon!!!!
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 12:08 pm (UTC)This story is so good on so many levels. I love the action in this chapter.
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 03:33 pm (UTC)omg arthur is so great
'it means i fucked your mom' XDD I lol-ed in real life
and its so awesome
felt like watching an action movie *-*
i'm so excited
more soon please
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:29 am (UTC)AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY! YAY! :D
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:55 pm (UTC)OH MY GOD, IT'S BRILLANT!
The way you describe action it's great, I feel like I'm watching a really good action movie. Arthur takes my breath away (even though the lost one from previous chapter was also very in my taste), Cobb is great and Eames! What happened to Eames?!
Please, just update soon! (I'm so happy I passed all my exams and now I can read your story without stings of remorse).
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:33 am (UTC)CONGRATULATIONS on your exams! That's awesome! You should eat a pint of ice cream and do something fun, that's what I did when I passed my exams. ^_^ That, and read tons of porn, hehe. :D
Also, thank you! ^_^
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-04 02:04 am (UTC)Ok, maybe not rage. But I'm definitely pent up with something! You can't leave me like thiiiiiiiis! Eaaaaaaaaaames ;________; The upside to this cliffhanger had better be some hardcore h/c xD Aside from MASSAMOUNTSOFFRUSTRATION I'm still in love with this. Coming home to read the fics I find each morning before work has been the only thing getting me through the workday lately lol. And every day I'm like, "Glitch? Yes? No. Sad panda." Today was HAPPY PANDA day. Can't wait for moooooore <3 <3 <3
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Date: 2011-02-06 03:36 am (UTC)Aww, happy panda, yay! I'm glad! It's really awesome to hear that this is givong you some hours or enjoyment. I feel like that at work too. Like, "Man, once I get home I can have some fic-time." It's a great feeling. ^_^ I hope today is a happy panda day too then. Or tonight, anyway.
Thank you! ^___^
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