Things Hidden: Part VI

Ariadne yanked her arm from his grip as they skidded around yet another corner and tripped through the tiny alley. "What the hell is going on, Eames?" she demanded between gasps for air. They had been running for what felt to her like an hour, zig-zagging across side streets, through crowded residential spots, up and down stairs. "Oh…" Eames began, pressing his back against the stone side of a building and glancing over his shoulder. "Nothing…just some old friends wanting to catch up." His hand slid seemingly involuntarily into his pocket to grip the poker chip. He continued to stare out into the street, his eyes flicking from the windows, to the cars, to the people.

Ariadne stepped closer to Eames, until she was looking straight up at him. "Who are those people, and why are they shooting at us?"

Eames hesitated, tossed the poker chip into the air, pocketed it, and stepped calmly back into the street. "I think its best you don't know those sorts of things, little darling," he said over his shoulder. She followed him doggedly as he wound through the idling cars and wandered through an open doorway.

"Well ah…Please come in," Eames said, stopping at the dead end of yet another of the tiny, dim-lit hallways the twosome had been traversing. He fished in his jacket pocket and procured a small metal key, which opened the door on their left. Ariadne clomped in, utterly beyond any sort of bewilderment or irritation, instead finding herself completely worn out.

She set her bag beside the door as he moved past her into the room to turn on a lamp. Eames removed his jacket, the space was illuminated, and Ariadne couldn't help herself. She swept her eyes over every surface, absorbing the long, low room, dominated by an aged, brown leather sofa. To the left stood a kitchen that perhaps had seen better days. To the right, a red door and a large object covered with a canvas tarp in the corner. Ariadne's first thought would've been telescope? if Eames hadn't started talking. "Afraid you'll have to stick around for a bit, little darling. Please sit." He punctuated his request with a flourishing removal of papers and books from the couch. Ariadne sank onto the leather and watched him walk purposefully through the red door. She took a breath to sigh and promptly sneezed. Some sort of chemical wafted through the air. She rubbed her nose and tried not to breath extensively. What the hell am I doing? she scolded herself. Looking for a man who obviously cannot be found, in fricking Kenya with this guy…