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Post by Mizagium on Nov 12, 2010 17:56:13 GMT -5
Alright, so here's the whole thing I guess.
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The team was awake and on the street by eight in the morning, yawing and blinking sleep from their eyes as they hurried to Kretzer’s hotel. Arthur, apparently, was at least a decent computer hacker, and had brought live feeds up from several street cameras onto his laptop. He had been watching them since around six in the morning to make sure Kretzer didn’t give them the slip. So far, it appeared that they were ahead of him.
Cobb hadn’t brought the PASIV with him this time, electing to leave it behind with Yusuf in the room. He looked strangely naked without the silver case in his hand, at least to Ariadne. As if feeling the emptiness, Cobb stuffed his hands into his pockets self-consciously as they walked. Not that he seemed out of place; Arthur and Eames walked very stiffly and mechanically. They didn’t even bother to argue. Even Ariadne found herself focusing only on the mission ahead; she barely took in her surroundings at all. Normally, she would be gazing up at the skyline, studying the architecture of the buildings.
The tension is so thick – Ariadne stopped herself before she completed that clichéd line, however true it might have been. In an effort to relieve the tension, she asked, “So, what? Are we just going to jump him as soon as he leaves?”
“Something like that,” Cobb replied.
“There he is!” Eames thumped Cobb on the chest to make him look. Across the street, Kretzer exited the hotel and started off down the street. Cobb and Arthur crossed quickly while Eames indicated Ariadne to follow him. “We can’t very well kidnap a mad in broad daylight now cane we?”
It was rhetorical, but Ariadne chose to answer anyway. “Judging from what I’ve seen, Proclus Global has enough clout to get away with just about anything.
He snorted. “You think that’s bad, you should see some of the stuff Fischer Morrow gets away with. It’s no wonder they’ve held onto their energy monopoly as long as they have. Ruthless bastards, they are, but – aye – they do get the job done. Compared to them, Saito’s just a flea on a dog’s arse.”
A company more powerful than Saito’s? The very thought raised goose bumps on her arms, despite the warm morning. She already thought Saito got away with far too much, but to know that there were others with even more immunity – the more she learned about how the world really worked, the more she didn’t like it one bit.
Kretzer’s capture happened to quickly and cleanly that she almost missed it. After about an hour of tailing the man, Eames got a call from Arthur. When he hung up, he and Ariadne quickly crossed the street, dodging honking vehicles with swearing drivers. They had gotten ahead of Kretzer in the last twenty minutes in order to head him off if he started to run. He had done just that, but not ahead; Kretzer had turned down a side alley, which was quite possibly the worst decision ever.
When Eames and Ariadne caught up, Cobb and Arthur had already drawn their guns. Eames barely had time to reach for his before they fired off four shots, two each. Kretzer went down on his face in mid run. At first, Ariadne was horrified, but then she saw the dart protruding from his neck. A tranquilizer. She hadn’t known they carried tranquilizers.
“No problem, see?” Arthur nudged the unconscious man with his foot, checking for a weapon in a very police-like fashion.
“Yeah, but now we’ve got to get him back to the room,” Ariadne pointed out in a very Eames-like fashion.
“Again, not a problem. Hail a cab, would you, Eames?”
The Englishman gave theatrical bow. “As you wish.”
“Help us get him up, Ariadne.” Cobb and Arthur holstered their weapons and the three of them bent down to lift the Russian up. He was surprisingly light; they barely needed her to hoist Kretzer onto their shoulders. Suspended between them, it appeared as if Arthur and Cobb were supporting a drunken or injured friend. “Let’s go see if Eames did his job, eh?”
Eames had indeed done his job. They found him sitting in the driver’s seat of a yellow taxicab, waving at them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Where the driver?” Ariadne demanded.
Eames scratched his bearded chin. “Couple blocks that way.” He didn’t point to indicate direction. “Poor bloke jumped out before I could even aim my gun at him properly.”
Before she could say anything further, Cobb opened the back door and slid in. “Front seat, Ariadne.” He and Arthur set Kretzer up between them as if he was just another passenger. The result was actually somewhat comical as they struggled to keep him upright as Eames raced along without even the slightest regard for speed limits, other vehicles, or safety in general.
“You know,” she said, bracing herself against the door as Eames swerved to avoid sideswiping a bus. “I think I prefer it when Cobb drives.”
“I swear to God I’ll crash this car,” he threatened without malice.
Threats aside, they made it back to the hotel with Kretzer still unconscious. The clerks at the desk failed to be alarmed at the sight. Whether this was because of the bribe or because they were accustomed to this sort of thing, Ariadne couldn’t guess. Without any sort of command, one receptionist calmly crossed to the doors and locked them. He gave Cobb the same nod he had given Ariadne earlier. They let Kretzer slump against the wall of the elevator as they rode it up to the third floor.
“Are we sure about this?” For once it wasn’t Ariadne voicing concern. Eames watched the light blink from F1 to F2. “Are we really Extracting from an Extractor? And as skilled a one as Kretzer?”
“Getting cold feet, Eames?” Arthur didn’t smile, indicating he meant it as a serious question.
“No, that’s the wrong phrase.” But he didn’t elaborate as the light blinked from F2 to F3 and the door slid open. Eames took Cobb’s place with Kretzer while he ran ahead to open his room. Ariadne trailed behind. She knew exactly what Eames was thinking: something was very wrong about the entire situation.
They flopped Kretzer into one of the chairs that Yusuf had arranged around the table on which the PASIV was resting. “Did everything go fine?” he asked, drawing four spools of tubing and attaching hypodermic needles to them.
“No problems,” Cob assured him. “Only took one dart to bring him down.”
Yusuf raised an eyebrow. “Only one? Hm.” Casually, but quickly, he drew a syringe out of his lab-coat pocket and jabbed it into Kretzer’s neck. He depressed the plunger halfway before removing it. “That should keep his mind sluggish enough for you guys to work with.”
“Much obliged, Yusuf,” Arthur thanked him as he settled into a chair and rolled up his sleeve. Cobb took the other seat while Eames lay on the bed.
“I’m coming, too,” Ariadne declared, snatching a fifth spool.
“No way,” Cobb responded immediately. “You’re only supposed to be our Architect. Going into Kretzer’s dreams is going to be very dangerous and you don’t have the proper mental training – “
“I’ve been on missions with you all before.”
“Not like this, Ariadne.”
“Look, Cobb, something’s wrong with this entire mission, but more specifically, with Kretzer. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s bad. It might mess with the labyrinth I designed, and even Arthur can’t fix it on the fly without alerting the subject’s preconscious. I can. You need backup for this one, Cobb.”
“No. Stay up here with Yusuf and keep watch. That’s final.” He nodded to Yusuf who pressed the injection trigger, sending Somnacin shooting through the tubes and into the veins of Kretzer, Cobb, Arthur, and Eames. Ariadne watched with something approaching concern as the three men slipped into sleep.
“For the record, I think they made a mistake not taking you,” Yusuf consoled. It didn’t help. Much.
-
The labyrinth was constructed to resemble London, not to actually be London. As he surveyed the cityscape, Cobb was very impressed. To someone who was very familiar with the real city, this was a very good imitation. Characteristic of Ariadne, the actual maze was simple, but elegant, filled with enough dead-ends and switchbacks to confuse any neurosecurity that might be present. But if you were presented with the layout of the maze from a bird’s eye view, the pattern became instantly clear. Such a talent was something desired of all Architects, so that the Dreamer of the Extraction team could easily learn the maze layout and not get them all lost.
He wondered briefly if she had more skill than he did.
In contrast to his initial optimism, Arthur frowned. “Can’t you even smile?” Eames prodded.
“Something’s off about the maze but I can’t quite figure out what,” he confessed. None of the buildings possessed any impossible architecture. None of the projections gave the three men a second thought…consideration? For the moment, everything was going smoothly - and yet…something felt off.
“Come on,” Cobb urged. “Let’s talk while we walk.” He unconsciously felt for his Totem concealed in the breast pocket of his coat. There was no place to test it out at the moment. “What’s the plan, Arthur?”
“We’re going with the theory that Kretzer is seeking out Miles which means he’s heading for the University College London, the Bartlett, more specifically. So we have to beat Kretzer to the college and make sure his projection of Miles doesn’t get to him first.”
“Sounds easy enough.” They continued through the city for roughly ten minutes before they encountered the college. Cobb was struck by the near perfect resemblance and had to remind himself that it wasn’t real. “How does she know what this college looks like? I thought Ariadne studied in France?”
“I actually supplied most of the design for the UCL,” Eames admitted. “Although, the weird thing is, once I got started on the design, she immediately knew what I was doing. I guess her French university had a similar design.” He shrugged. “In any case we need to find the Bartlett before Kretzer gets here.”
Eames led them across the campus to the Engineering building, where Miles’ office was located. Surprisingly, at least to Cobb, it was empty. Eames seemed fairly confident that he knew it would be empty and used the opportunity to sit at Miles’ desk. Cobb and Arthur stood awkwardly in the entrance until Eames said, “What are you standing around for? I figured you two would be combing this place to see if Kretzer hid his safe anywhere in here.”
A beat.
They dashed into the room and began pulling everything off the walls. Everything. Posters, pictures, shelves, everything. Eames used the time to get himself into the mindset of Miles, adopting the mannerisms of the old man, the accent. In another universe, he might have been a Broadway actor, he and the handful of other Forgers. In the dreams, he had to alter his appearance, thereby altering the structure of the dream. The trick was to become the person you were impersonating, that way the preconscious wasn’t alerted to the changes. He was, quite literally, forging an identity.
After a few minutes, Cobb and Arthur had searched the entire room and found nothing. When they looked at Eames again, he was Miles. “Why did you think there would be a safe here?”
Eames shrugged. “I didn’t. I just didn’t want the two of you staring at me while I worked.” He stuck his tongue out at them, a very un-Miles-like gesture. “Now quit fooling around, you two. The Mile Projection is bound to be in the Library.” Arthur rolled his eyes as Eames got up and walked off, very much like Miles. Cobb chuckled to himself, but reached for the Totem at the same time.
“You two need to disperse once we get inside,” he continued in Miles’ voice. “I have a feeling Kretzer’s safe will be in the library – seriously,” he added, seeing Arthur’s expression. “But don’t let him see you; that much should be obvious.”
“I wonder if we’re too late,” Arthur mused. “We didn’t spend that long on the detour, but then we never actually saw Kretzer yet so…”
“Always doubting. Look behind you.”
Arthur and Cobb turned. There was Kretzer shuffling though the throng of student projections. They both resisted the temptation to run. Doing so would only draw the attention of the projections. He studied the projections closer. Those closest to Kretzer behaved…oddly. Some walked in circles, some just completely stopped moving, freezing in the middle of an action. Still others skipped – as a scratched music compact disc will do, their image jumping all over the place.
“Arthur…it that what you meant by something being off?”
“That’s exactly what I was talking about Cobb.” There was a tone of urgent worry in his voice that Cobb was unaccustomed to. Usually it came from Ariadne. “Now we should hurry.”
Inside the library, Cobb and Arthur broke off from the disguised Eames, but stayed within earshot. Eames took to browsing an aisle until Kretzer arrived and seized him by the shoulder. “Professor Miles!”
“Oh, Mr. Kretzer,” he said with mild surprise. “How nice to see you. What are you doing in London?”
“You’ve got to help me, Miles,” he declared, his voice laden with desperation. “Please!”
“Help you with what, Kretzer?”
“In my head. They’re in my head! Oh God, they’re in…”
“Who?”
“Oh Jesus, I know they’re – “
Eames gripped Kretzer by the shoulders and forced the man to face Mile’s visage. “Who, Kretzer? Who’s inside your head?”
“I don’t know. But they’re there – you’ve got to help me.” He was on the verge of tears by now. Eames feared he might breakdown right then and there; what affect that would have on the dream, he didn’t want to find out.
“I will, Kretzer. I’ll help you, but you’ve got to calm down and start from the beginning.”
The man, shaking, struggled to breath, resulting in great, wheezing gasps; but he did calm down. Eames let him go and he leaned against the bookshelf behind him, careful not to tip it over. “I did what you told me, Miles. I locked away everything I knew, hid it in your office because I thought nobody would think to look there, but…”
“But what, Kretzer?” He caught a fleeting glimpse of Cobb and Arthur dashing out of the library, but was careful not to look. “What happened?”
“I ran. I ran just like you said. I left England for Russia, figuring I could hide amongst my own people, but I got paranoid and went to America. Surprisingly, I blended in more there than home…but they found me. I fled again, to South America, and then to Japan.” Kretzer doubled over and put his hands over his head. “But they always found me, Miles. I knew I couldn’t run from SEELE. Not ever.”
SEELE? Now Eames was very interested. He had never seen Kretzer so broken; never seen any Extractor so mentally unstable. He wanted to know what Kretzer was talking about very badly, but couldn’t ask him outright: that would shatter the illusion of Miles. So instead, he asked, “Why did you come back here, then?”
“Because I have nowhere else to go,” Kretzer sobbed. “No one else to turn to. I - No, you’re right. It was stupid to come here.”
Eames made to say something but his breath caught. Standing directly in front of him was woman with wavy brown hair, wearing a dress, and holding a gun. Casually, she crossed the distance between them. The sound of her heels clacking on the floor drew Kretzer’s attention.
“Mallorie! What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Kretzer,” she greeted curtly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“A while I don’t think so…”
“Really? Twelve years seems like an awfully long time to me.” She stopped just a few feet from them.
“Tweleve…years…” Kretzer had stopped sobbing and was glancing between Mal and Eames.
“I’m dead, remember? I killed myself. Jumped off a building. They shut down the program because of me.”
Very slowly, revelation dawned on the Russian. “You’re…dead… I remember. Cobb was so distraught; he blamed himself for a long time after. Gehirn died when you did. But if you’re dead, then how…?”
“Mal,” Eames said.
Growing impatient, brought the pistol up and shot Eames three times through the head. Then she walked over and emptied the magazine into his chest. “You know I always hated that name.”
“Mallorie! What the hell are you - ?”
“You’re dreaming, Kretzer.” She dropped the empty magazine on Eame’s body and loaded another one. “I was going to let you figure it out on your own, but I’m nto sure youd could have done it. This” she kicked Eames “isn’t Miles. Take a look.”
Cautiously, Kretzer leaned over the body and discovered an entirely different person than whom he thought he had been conversing. “Eames?”
The labyrinth rumbled as if in an earthquake. Every projection stopped whatever they were doing and stared at Mal.
“There’s more here, Kretzer. Dominic and Arthur are here as well.”
“I knew it,” he muttered. “I knew there were people in my head. I knew I wasn’t alone. Oh, what do they want? Why can’t they leave me alone? I swore I wouldn’t tell anybody, I swore. I even locked all of it away.” He lapsed back into distress, collapsing on the floor as the dream environment shuddered again, this time with greater ferocity. Several shelves’ worth of book fell to the floor. Mal swore and she cocked her firearm.
The dream was collapsing.
-
“Goddamn it all to bloody hell!” Eames swore upon awaking, tearing the needle from his arm.
“What? What?” Yusuf and Ariadne jumped to their feet.
“Tie him up!” Eames barked, pointing a finger at Kretzer. “Make sure he can’t get out of the damn chair when he wakes up. He’s dangerous.”
Ariadne dove through the group’s luggage before finding a two rolls of duct tape. She tossed one to Yusuf and they set about securing Kretzer to the chair as Eames dabbed at the blood trickling down his arm.
“Did he kill you?” Yusuf asked.
“No. It was bloody Mal, that’s who killed me.” He snorted. “Cobb’s a fool. We should have brought you along, missy.” Ariadne’s moment of self-assurance was cut short when Eames continued. “You could have distracted her long enough for me to get more information out of Kretzer.”
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“There’s nothing we can do. We wait until the other two either get killed or the timer runs out. I’m betting on the former.”
All three of them turned at the sound of the keycard lock clicking and the door swinging open.
-
Cobb and Arthur surveyed the trashed office. Where was there left to look? They had torn everything off the walls and upended the desks and shelves. At least one window was shattered. Even Mile’s personal desk was shifted and all the drawers opened. Where else… As one, they both looked at the chalkboard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arthur breathed. The dream shuddered beneath their feet and they picked up the pace.
Once the chalkboard was removed (thrown haphazardly behind them) they found themselves staring at a combination lock. No safe, just a dial protruding ever so slightly from the wall. It put Cobb in mind of the lock on a school locker.
“Any idea what the combination might be?” Arthur asked with mild amusement.
“Not the slightest.” The dream heaved violently. Somewhere in the city a building collapsed. “The dream is starting to collapse. We’re out of time.”
“That’s right,” responded a female voice from behind them. There Mal stood, gun in hand. “End of the line, boys. I wouldn’t, if I were you,” she said when they both reached for their guns. “We all know just how effective that will be against me.” Even so, they drew their weapons, if solely for comfort’s sake.
“Mal, what are you doing here?” Cobb asked.
The dream labyrinth creaked and the city started to fall apart. Sections of the ground dropped away into nothingness and it seemed as if pieces of the sky were falling, creating large explosions everywhere. The main section of UCL imploded on itself.
“My, my, is this what you’ve been reduced to?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard him. “Extracting from a colleague? Isn’t there some black market code against that?” She leveled the gun at his head, then Arthur’s. Every ten seconds or so she would switch targets, making her unpredictable. “What did you think you’d find in his broken mind?”
“How much does he know?” Cobb stared down his wife. “That’s all we’re here for. Not to steal, just to learn, Mal. What does Kretzer know?”
The faintest of smiles crossed her lips. “Know? He knows a lot Cobb, almost as much as you. Thirty-six years of living will impart a great amount of knowledge onto someone.”
“Don’t play with me, Mal! What does he know about – “ A single gunshot cut him off. Arthur dropped, dead, beside him.
“He knows everything, Cobb.” She shot him through the head.
-
Arthur was only a few seconds ahead of Cobb waking up, so they were both equally astonished to see Mr. Saito standing in the room, looking triumphant. Before he could ask the rest of his team what was going on, Eames said, “He only just got here, Cobb. Right after Mal shot me.” He was careful not to call her a bitch this time, though Cobb probably wouldn’t have argued.
“Very good, Mr. Cobb,” Saito congratulated. “You managed to pick up Mr. Kretzer and infiltrate his mind. What have you learned?”
“He knows everything,” he replied as he removed the hypodermic needle from his arm and dabbed at the point of blood. “He’s borderline insane, but he knows everything.”
“What?” Ariadne asked. “Knows everything about what?”
Before Cobb or Arthur could, Saito answered her. “That’s, ah, classified information, Ms. Ariadne. I thank you all for your excellent work. Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to leave as soon as you are able.”
Eames spoke again. “There’s still the matter of – “
“Your payment has been deposited into your respective accounts. Now, if you don’t mind, I believe your assignment at NERV requires your presence at once. The next train to Tokyo-3 leaves in less than forty-five minutes. I suggest you be on it.” He gestured to the door.
Ariadne was brimming with questions and on the verge of shouting at somebody. Luckily Arthur pushed her gently towards the door. She snatched up her bag and followed Eames out. Cobb and Yusuf followed them, leaving a semi-unconscious Kretzer – still duct-taped to the chair - alone with Saito.
Once he was satisfied they had cleared the building, Saito pressed the number 1 on his cell phone. “They are gone, please come in now.” Kretzer was coming out of the Somnacin sleep by now, muttering groggily in his chair.
While he waited, Saito went over to Kretzer and took the man’s face in his hand, gripping it below the chin so that he could manipulate it. “Well, well, well, Mr. Kretzer. Such a goose chase you led us on. Around the world in eighty days almost. You didn’t think we’d let you read Britain did you?” Kretzer didn’t respond, but the ear and madness was visible in his eyes. “What happened to you that turned you mad? No, I don’t suppose you could tell me. No matter.”
On cue, the door opened again, and in walked a young girl, around fourteen. She was dressed as an English school-child, white button-up and a tie, plaid skirt that reached the knees. He long brown hair was pulled back and kept in line by a headband. She adjusted her glasses on her nose.
“This him?” She asked in heavily accented Japanese. She was obviously much more comfortable speaking in English.
“Yes, this is the man I spoke to you about.” Saito released his face and stepped back.
The girl took his place and placed both hand on either side of his head. Kretzer immediately began struggling, knowing exactly was coming next. “How much, Saito?” She had switched back into English.
“All of it. We don’t want him to remember a damn thing.”
The girl smiled hungrily. Kretzer screamed as she dug into his mind, convulsing in his chair. Saito watched impassively as his screams and crescendoed and then abruptly silenced. His head flopped lazily to one side. Blood dribbled out from his ears, eyes, mouth, and nose. Her lenses cracked audibly. The girl sighed in euphoric pleasure and peeled her hands away.
“Your glasses.”
The girl merely smiled. They cracked again and were repaired.
“Clever,” he admitted.
“What do we do with him?”
“There is a cleanup crew on their way. Our job is finished.”
The girl looked crestfallen. “What about...the receptionists?”
“Oh yes. You may have them as well, but not as much as Kretzer. Only the last two days or so.”
She licked her lips.
-
Yes. That. Just. Happened.
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