DISCLAIMER: Christopher Nolan owns all things to do with Inception.
When in an elevator, the one person you do not want to be with is Eames.
He pushed me again, hard. I shot a look at him, but he smiled innocently and shrugged.
"Sorry, the rides a bit bumpy," he said, winking. I muttered in annoyance and looked forward. Cobb sighed next to me, also getting annoyed by Eames's childish antics.
"Remind me again why Eames is here?" I asked, staring up at the lit-up numbers.
"Because Eames is the forger, and we don't know the difficulty of the job," he said, straightening his shirt.
"Then why don't we have Ariadne or Yusuf?" Eames interjected. Cobb looked at him from over his shoulder.
"We don't know whether we want them. Or whether they'll want to work for us again after the Fischer job."
Of course they would want to do it. Ariadne was hooked to dream sharing as soon as she was introduced. I knew Cobb wouldn't want to work without her, she was the most talented Architect we had worked with. Yusuf was also very reliable. I didn't trust Chemists too much. Knowing the person is going to be pumping chemicals into your body somehow increases my suspicion. I was comfortable working with Yusuf.
"They'll be the first we go to though, right?" Eames asked.
"Let's just find out more about the job before we go making any decisions," he sighed, clearly tired of answering our obvious questions.
The small number 12 lit up, and the elevator doors opened. We walked into a large room, the windows practically the size of the wall. There were large brown leather couches, covering the radius of the waiting room, and the walls were covered in clearly expensive art.
The receptionist, looked up and stopped typing. From the look she gave, she was obviously pleased to have some good-looking men walk into the office. Cobb walked up to the desk and leaned forward.
"Hi, my name's Dominic Cobb. We have an appointment to seeā¦" he pulled out a small white card and studied it. "John Carter?"
She smiled and nodded at us. "Sure, just make yourselves comfortable, he'll be ready in a moment."
"Thank you." Cobb turned and motioned to the couches.
Eames sat down and placed his feet on the coffee table. Cobb walked past, kicking them off, causing Eames to sigh in frustration. I sat down and looked at Cobb.
"What did this guy say when he called you?"
Cobb looked down at his hands. "He said to come here, at this time, today. He told me to bring you and Eames, but he didn't mention anything about the job apart from the fact that it was going to be an extraction of sorts."
I raised my eyebrow. "Of sorts?" He nodded. I looked down at the ground.
"Why did he call you? Usually people call me when they want us to do a job."
Eames smirked. "Jealous, little Arthur?"
"Shut up Eames, and I'm not little."
"Oh please, how old are you, like 14?"
"I'm 29, how old are you, like 50?"
"Can you two be quiet? We're at a job interview, not day care." Cobb snapped.
The receptionist came over and nodded at Cobb. "You can go in now."
We stood up in unison and followed her to a large brown door. She left us standing there, while Cobb knocked. After a moment of silence, Cobb looked at me. I motioned for him to go in. He pushed the door and I followed him in, ignoring Eames's push on the arm.
The office was less admirable than the waiting area. It was decidedly darker, and the walls were plain and dull. Standing by the window was a man. He was tall, well built and was wearing a dark suit. He didn't turn around, so Cobb cleared his throat.
"Mr Carter?"
"Dominic Cobb?"
Cobb nodded. "Yes, this is Arthur, my Point Man, and Eames my Forger," he said, motioning to myself and Eames. The man turned around to face us.
He was middle aged, maybe older. His hair was greying and his face had laughter lines, even though it was hard to believe this guy ever laughed. He stared at us with a serious expression, looking us up and down.
"Mr Cobb, my name is not John Carter."
I felt myself stiffen slightly. Cobb remained cool, and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"What do we call you then?" he asked. Cobb never fazed me. He was always confident and calm when he needed to be. Sometimes I was envious of him in that sense.
The man smiled slightly. So small it was barely there. "My name is Agent Morgan Reid, FBI."
Fuck, I thought. He's going to arrest us. The FBI have been on dream-sharing for years. My first instinct was to run, fight, so anything to avoid the FBI, but I looked at Cobb. He remained calm, and he just nodded in recondition. I couldn't understand why he was just standing there. He knew something that I didn't. I looked at Eames who was still as well, acting as if nothing mattered.
The man smiled. "Don't worry, I'm here to hire you, just as I said."
Cobb stepped forward slightly and extended his hand. "I know that. You wouldn't have gone through all this trouble of meeting us. If you had our names, then you would have arrested us a long time ago. Nice to meet you, Agent Reid."
Reid smirked. "You really are as sharp as they say." He shook his hand and reached out to Eames, who took it without hesitation.
"Eames. I've been following your work for a while. You're a very talented forger."
Eames nodded. "Thanks, I know." Reid looked at me and extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment, but shook it. He smiled at me.
"Arthur, the infamous Point Man." I pulled my hand away, ending the handshake quickly. He ignored my action and turned to Cobb.
"I know this looks strange, the FBI hiring you for a job, regardless of how illegal the activity is."
Cobb smiled. "You have no idea what strange is to us."
Reid nodded and the smile fell off his face. "Recently, the FBI have been struggling. There have been a series of bomb attacks across Los Angeles, Paris and England, hitting some of the most popular landmarks. Parks, zoos, shopping malls, you name it."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that," Eames cut in. "There have been 17 attacks so far."
"We caught the guy, or at least we thought. It turns out that the man we have in captivity was only an accomplice. The real bomber is still out there. This is where you come in. We need you to perform an extraction, but we need you to do it verbally, in an interview."
Cobb furrowed his brow. "So you want us to interview the accomplice, and find out where the real bomber is, without doing it in a dream? Do you realise how difficult that would be? We're dreamers, not policemen."
Reid nodded. "I understand that, but the circumstances call for it. The man asked for you personally."
"Really?" I asked, cutting in. "Who's the guy?"
"Unfortunately, I can't give you any classified information, until you agree. This is a very serious matter. People have died."
Eames looked up. "How many?"
Reid sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "278, 69 of them children, 5 or under. Over 2000 have been injured. This is one of the worst attacks we've seen. The attacks will keep coming. We need your help."
Cobb nodded. "We'll help you. But I do have one question. What happens to us when we finish? I assume you're not just going to let us criminals walk away."
Reid shook his head. "No. You're right. But if you do the job correctly, maybe I could turn my head for the day. Let you get a head start. If you do the job very well, then maybe the FBI will want to hire you. As operative agents."
Working for the law? I found myself hating the idea.
I looked at Cobb. He eyed me for approval. "Deal. Where do you want us?"
Reid smiled. "Thank you. Come with me to the headquarters in Washington. You'll be treated as Agents of Investigation. We have a jet on hold."
Eames held up his hand. "Hang on a moment, don't you have people that do the interviews? They do criminal psychology and all that stuff?"
"The BAU. Behavioural Analysis Unit. They've done an interview, but this guy doesn't want to know. He said he would only talk to you."
"I have a request," Cobb added. Reid nodded. "We need to go to Paris to pick up another member of the team."
I looked at Cobb. "Are you sure? We don't need an Architect for this job."
Cobb nodded. "True. But if the bombings are potentially in Paris, then Ariadne will not be safe. How much would we hate ourselves if our best Architect was hurt, or worse." He looked at Reid. "We'll meet you at the FBI headquarters tomorrow. Right now we have to get our friend."
Reid nodded. "Of course. Thank you, you can go now."
Cobb motioned for us to leave. As we walked back to the elevator, I caught Eames winking at the receptionist.
"Eames, not the time nor the place," I hissed. He smiled at me.
"You're just jealous that I have charisma, charm and devilishly good-looks."
"Yeah, the charm of a snake."
Cobb pressed the button in the lift, and stayed silent.
"You alright, boss?" Eames asked, checking his watch.
Cobb sighed. "Did you hear what he said? 278 dead, over 2000 injured. We've got a serial bomber on our hands. We're out of our comfort zone, here."
"But at least we'll just be interviewing him. We won't have to go into any dreams," I pointed out. Cobb looked at me.
"We'll see. Right now let's just get Ariadne and head to Washington."