[FIC - Inception] The Stein Job Part 1

[croik]

The Stein Job


Part 1

Cobb huddled under the Winde Café's awning for almost an hour before the taxi showed up. The window rolled down only far enough for a man's crooked finger to beckon him forward, and with a mumbled curse Cobb hurried across the sidewalk. By the time he jerked the door open and dropped inside his jacket was already freshly soaked, and his puddle-washed socks sent a chill into his ankles that spread all through him. He slicked his hair back and tried not to notice the taxi driver eyeing him through his mirror.

"You did say 11:00 over the phone, didn't you?" Cobb said as he squished into his seat.

His fellow passenger tried to shift away to spare his own, dry suit. "My apologies," he said, fingering the bridge of his glasses. "I was detained while meeting with another client. You can take a dry cleaning bill out of my fee, if you like."

Cobb's gaze was drawn to the man's white cuff, poking out just slightly from under the sleeve of his rumpled jacket--and more importantly, the edge of a rusty stain, hastily washed. "No, it's fine. I'm flattered you asked to meet me in person at all, Mr. Jensen."

"Just 'Jensen' will suffice, Mr. Cobb." He looked Cobb over, measuring him, his eyes disarmingly sharp. "I always make an effort to confirm rumors in person, whenever possible. And there have been quite a few rumors about you."

Jensen leaned forward and passed a slip of paper to the driver, who glanced over it for only a moment before putting the taxi in drive. As they pulled away from the curb, Cobb tried to keep a close eye on where they were heading. "Then I guess I haven't been doing my job well enough," said Cobb. "I've been trying to avoid that. Honestly, I was surprised when you contacted me; I thought I hid myself pretty well."

"You did."

And you're just that good, huh. Cobb would have smirked except for the tiny flutter in his stomach; he understood what it meant to have been sought out, and even more so what it could mean. "Then you must have some decent information for me. A job, or...?"

"A job," Jensen confirmed. "In fact, we're on our way to meet the client now." He reached into the front of his suit and pulled out an envelope, but after another glance at Cobb's wet hands, he opened it himself. "Ms. Edina Weston, head of Columbia Industries' German division here in Berlin. Have you heard of it?"

"Only in passing." Cobb leaned closer to see the photo Jensen was holding up for him, of a woman in maybe her late forties, with dark, brunette curls, wearing a white lab coat over her tailored suit. "They do medical research and development."

"Indeed. And Columbia's main competitor is Markneuheiten," Jensen continued. "Their main office is also based here in Berlin. For years they have fought petty disputes over patents and accusations of theft and so on and so forth. But it seems now that Markneuheiten is advancing their espionage techniques in addition to pharmaceuticals."

"You mean, extraction."

"Of course. Columbia Industries may be winning their war with Markneuheiten in the business world, but they have yet to take threats of extraction seriously." Jensen shared a derisive look with Cobb. "Thankfully for them, Ms. Weston is very progressive. She has reason to believe that Markneuheiten's president, Mr. Stein, means to send extractors after her and her company, and thus hired me to find agents to counteract them."

Cobb frowned as he took it in. "I'm an extractor, not a bodyguard," he said carefully. "There are things I can do for her, but the surest defense against extraction is to not make yourself vulnerable, ever."

Jensen lifted an eyebrow. "That's not what the rumors are saying about you."

Cobb still wasn't certain if he ought to be flattered or intimidated by the thought of his activities making their way across the criminal world so quickly, but he smiled. "Sounds like you're well informed," he said, and though he should have known better, he added, "Speaking of which, how is it that Ms. Weston has 'reason to believe' she's a target of extraction anyway?"

Jensen gave nothing away in his face. "I am not the only one buying and selling information in Europe, Mr. Cobb."

The taxi slowed, and when Cobb moved to open the door, he realized that Jensen was unmoving in his seat. "You're not coming in?" he asked.

"Assuming you accept Ms. Weston's offer, I will contact you again so that we can settle my finder's fee. Until then, I'm unrelated to anything the two of you discuss." Jensen frowned thoughtfully. "But I will pay the taxi driver to return here, and get you back to your hotel once you're finished. For making you wait."

"I appreciate it," said Cobb. "I hope we can do business again."

Jensen smiled, thin and all-knowing. "That will depend on this job, won't it?"

***

Cobb was shown immediately to Edina's office on the fourteenth floor, a towel over his shoulders and a cup of hot coffee in his hands. Her secretaries were endlessly polite, and she met him at the door with hand outstretched, every brilliant white tooth on display.

"So glad you could come on such short notice, Mr. Cobb," she greeted, ushering him into the office. "You poor man, getting caught in the rain. Have you been offered coffee?"

"Yes--thank you." Cobb took a sip just to be polite, and allowed her to bustle him into a chair opposite her desk. "I'm sorry about being late."

"Oh no, not at all. I hardly noticed." Edina closed the door, and as soon as she was seated at her desk, her smile flat-lined. "How much did he tell you?" she asked with a stoicism that rivaled Jensen's.

Cobb's brow lifted, but he wasn't surprised by the sudden turnabout. "Only that you may be under threat from Markneuheiten's extractors."

Edina pointed emphatically. "That fool Stein is a menace," she said. "He's never gotten over the fact that we built this office--petty, ignorant little man. This is business, god damn it. How dare he think I would give him anything, in my sleep or otherwise."

Cobb set his coffee down and rocked to the edge of his seat. "Can you tell me how you learned about the extractors?" he asked.

"I was sold the information, of course." She harrumphed. "And sold your name, too. This would all be settled already if only I had a name for the extractor he hired, but my informant didn't know it." Her lip quirked. "Which is where you come in, Mr. Cobb."

"Sounds like your money would be better spent on another informant," Cobb said honestly. "Or an old-fashioned mole."

"We have moles," Edina retorted. "We have spies and informants. But none of my go-to men know enough about mind crime's circles to hunt them out the usual way." When she folded her hands, her knuckles cracked. "And Stein is a paranoid old blowhard; there won't be a paper or digital trail to follow. I want to know who they are and exactly what they're after." She leaned forward. "I want these men."

Her intensity would have been comical, if Cobb hadn't been sure of what she was going to do with the men he delivered. "You're asking me to sell out my peers," he said. "Men and women I might know. I don't--"

"I'll pay you sixty thousand euro, in cash," Edina interrupted. "Small bills. And I'd like it done quickly, if you please."

Cobb rubbed his beard; he was suddenly wishing he had brought Arthur with him after all. "I'll have to confer with my associate," he said. He straightened up. "But there is something I can do for you, Ms. Weston, to protect you from extractors regardless of whether or not I can get you names."

"Subconscious training?" She lifted an eyebrow. "I've heard rumors."

"Those rumors started with me, I guarantee it," Cobb said confidently. "You might have heard about a pair of arrests out of Barcelona a few weeks ago." The tilt of her chin told him she had, and he smirked. "They woke up early out of a job because the training I put into place kicked them out of their subject's mind."

"So you have experience in selling out your peers after all," Edina taunted. "Then I see no reason why you should reject my offer." Cobb started to reply, but then he couldn't help but chuckle. "So how much is this extra service of yours going to cost me?" she continued. "They say that once you're aware of mind crime, your subconscious instinctively becomes more aware."

"If that were true enough to protect you from extractors, I wouldn't be here at all," said Cobb. "For another thirty grand I can train your mind to protect your deepest secrets--training that will last the rest of your life. In the long run that will be a lot more valuable than any names I get you now."

Edina narrowed her eyes at him. "Let's make it an even one hundred," she said, "if you'll train me and my head researcher, Dr. Meier. He's as much a target as I am."

Cobb shook her hand across the desk. "Deal."

***

Cobb returned to his hotel. As soon as he stepped into the room, the gentle swell of jazz music eased away the worst of the rain's chill. He draped his soaked coat over the edge of the bathtub and kicked his shoes into the closet. "I'm back," he called.

"I'm in here."

Cobb moved into the main room of the suite, and there found Mal, leaning gracefully over her paper-strewn workspace. Despite the cool weather she was dressed in a halter dress, pale shoulders beautifully exposed, her spine a perfect curve. She was too tempting; Cobb smiled as he stopped behind her and slid his hand up the line of her back to her neck.

Mal hunched away from him, chuckling. "Your hands are cold," she scolded.

Cobb kissed an apology to her shoulder and then leaned back, looking over her collection of sketches. They were all architectural designs: sharp-angled buildings, sweeping, organic parks, intimate sitting rooms. "Hard at work already?" he asked. "I haven't even told you I got the job."

"I knew you would," Mal said, her arm making a smooth arc over the paper. "Besides, we can always use more options."

"True." Cobb moved away to hunt out a dry change of clothing. "But this job is going to be a little different. We have to get the name of another extractor out of a corporate head who deals under the table. It won't be as easy as breaking into his computer, or a safe, if he's aware even on a subconscious level that he doesn't keep physical records."

Mal hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head back and forth as she continued to work on her sketches. "You could approach one of his projections," she suggested. "Simply ask for it."

Cobb smiled; Mal always suggested the most direct approach. He pulled on a fresh button-down. "That will only work if he's actually told someone about the extraction he ordered." He shook his head. "I ought to just extract it from Jensen. I'm almost positive he's the one that leaked Stein's plans to Weston in the first place."

"Arthur says he's an important figure in mind crime," Mal reminded him. "It wouldn't be a good idea to cross him."

"I know." Cobb finished changing and dropped into a chair opposite Mal. "The best way to get the subject to open up would be to put him in his home or office, but getting intel on either is not going to be easy, even for Arthur. It's not like we can just make an appointment."

"So extract his office layout from him first."

Cobb started to laugh, thinking it a joke, but then something in him clicked, and his mind whirled. "With only a basic layout of the building, we could get him to populate the space himself," he mused. "Then break in and study it without riskingactually getting caught. Assuming Stein doesn't have a good imagination, that is. But then that's another risk, to put him in one dream, then wake him up and start another..."

Mal flashed him a smirk. Her eyes were sharp and captivating, and it made Cobb's chest tighten. She didn't have to voice her suggestion for him to know it. She went back to work, and Cobb watched, silent and contemplative. But it was difficult to think of anything professional when Mal's perfect hands were gliding over the page, creating art from ragged charcoal. He was ever in awe of her, of the wellspring of life that poured out of her with every act of creation. She was a goddess and he would never be worthy.

"Cobb?"

Cobb stiffened and looked to the door--someone was coming down the hall. He hurried to his feet. "Time to go, Mal."

"Hm?" Mal didn't glance up from her work. "Why?"

"Arthur's coming." Cobb slid a hand from her elbow to her shoulder. "Please, you have to go."

"But I haven't seen Arthur in a long time," Mal protested. "Let him in."

Cobb shook his head. "I don't want him to see you here. Please, Mal."

He closed his eyes and concentrated, and within moments he felt the warmth of her skin vanish from beneath his palm. His shoulders sagged, relieved, but when he opened his eyes once more, he immediately spotted a wisp of fabric on the balcony. He didn't want to look--he knew what was coming--but he did anyway, just in time to catch a glimpse of Mal's disappointed eyes before she turned and threw herself over the railing.

Cobb was still holding his breath when the door opened. "There you are," said Arthur as he approached. "Do you really have to make mazes even when you're dreaming alone?"

Cobb rubbed his face, and when he was sure he could face Arthur with confidence, he turned. But Arthur wasn't alone: a man was trailing behind him, tall and narrow, with cropped hair and rough whiskers. His dark eyes flickered about the room, accessing and judging. It set Cobb immediately on edge and he prickled defensively.

"Who's this?" Cobb asked.

"Benjamin Bone," the man introduced. When he extended his hand, the cuff of his jacket pulled back, revealing the pale tracks of PASIV scars on the inside of his wrist.

The name was familiar, and Cobb stood a little taller as he shook Bone's hand. "Dom Cobb. Arthur says you do good work. I didn't realize it was you he was going to meet."

Arthur's lip quirked. "Remember those two extractors that were arrested in Barcelona?" He jerked his thumb at their guest. "There were three."

"Ah..." Cobb took a cue from Arthur's expression and offered a sheepish grin. "Well, I hope you're not the kind to hold grudges, Mr. Bone."

"Of course not." Bone pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. "It's business." His gaze flickered to the drawings spread across the table. "So's that, from the look of it." He moved in to better see. "Arthur said you might be picking up a job from Jensen."

Cobb shot his partner a stern look. "What else did Arthur tell you?"

"I told him because I thought we might be able to use him," said Arthur. "He's a first generation extractor, after all. We've worked together on some tough jobs."

Bone lit up as he peered over Mal's drawings, and Cobb grimaced. "Do you mind not smoking in here?" he asked, his eyes on the glowing butt.

"Can't get cancer from a dream," Bone said. He nudged the sketches about, flipping through them. "Hm. Fancy."

Arthur glanced between them. "So...we have a job, then?" He helped himself to the room's minibar and uncapped a bottle for Cobb, who accepted, though reluctantly. "Or is it another training service?"

"A real job," he said, deciding that he would wait until he and Arthur were alone to mention the rest. As they sat together around the table he related Edina's request, and wasn't surprised by the doubtful looks his comrades gave him. "I know, it's not ideal. We won't even know if the extractor we're after is worth selling out until we have the name."

"Mind crime is still pretty close knit," Arthur said, rolling his beer between his hands. "If we even ask around, and something happens to him or her, it's going to get out that we're rats."

"That's why I'm hoping we'll be able to get something juicier out of Stein to keep Weston happy." Cobb leaned forward so he could shuffle Mal's drawings into a pile, making room for a fresh sheet. "But it's not going to be easy. I'm afraid we won't have an opportunity to do enough recon for a convincing dream level. And since Stein is already aware of dreamshare, we can expect his projections to be fierce, if not organized."

Arthur and Bone both leaned to the edge of their chairs. "So what are you suggesting?" Arthur asked.

"We might only get one shot at Stein himself, which means...we do both jobs together." When he picked up the charcoal he was certain he could feel the warmth of Mal's fingers still imprinted on it. He drew a line through the paper, and in the lower box made a quick sketch of a corporate office. "What we really need is to get Stein somewhere he feels secure, somewhere he might have met with his extractor. If we can get him to project whoever it is, we'll have him. Plus if we're going to extract anything else, knowing the inside of Markneuheiten is a must. But rather than risk getting into the building ourselves, there's this."

In the top box Cobb began to sketch the outside of a skyscraper. "We'll dream for him a rough outline of his headquarters, using whatever information we can easily get. He'll populate the space for us, so that we can safely infiltrate and get the layout." He drew a sweeping arrow. "Then we'll take him down another dream level, and I'll remake the layout with a fresh start. That, way, he'll--"

"Two levels with a mark isn't possible," Bone interrupted.

Cobb had expected doubt, but he couldn't help but be irritated with Bone's terseness regardless. "Arthur and I do it all the time," he said. "It's very possible."

Arthur shook his head. "With the two of us, yes. It's completely different with an untrained stranger, let alone a target." But he was intrigued, and he watched Cobb closely. "You really think you can keep a second level stable long enough for an extraction?"

"Of course I can." Cobb dropped the charcoal and leaned back. "And that new Somnacin we got our hands on came from Dr. Gavde himself. This will work."

"It's not possible," Bone insisted. "And you plan on using a layout you get from the first level to build it?" He took a long draw on his cigarette, and when the smoke puffed from his flared nostrils he looked like a rhinoceros preparing a charge. "You must be out of your mind."

Cobb twitched, but before he could begin to defend himself, his gaze was drawn to an elegant, naked arm reaching over Bone's shoulder. His breath caught and he could only watch as two dainty fingers plucked the cigarette out from Bone's lips.

"Would you mind not smoking that in here?" Mal said. She lifted the cigarette to her mouth, her tongue flicking against the filter, and took a long breath before stamping it out against the back of Bone's chair. "Thank you."

Bone glared at her. "Who the hell are you?"

Arthur glanced between her and Cobb, his brow furrowed. "Cobb?"

"Sorry." Cobb waved for Mal to move closer, and she did, taking his outstretched hand. "Don't mind her; she's just a projection."

Bone considered his crushed cigarette for a moment and then turned back. "Then would you mind suppressing it?"

Mal's hand tightened against Cobb's, and he knew immediately what she would do if he tried. He wasn't sure he could bear to see it again in one dream. "Actually..."

"She's fine," said Arthur, covering for him, like always. "She helps us think sometimes. Don't worry about her."

"You ought to listen to Dom," Mal said, leaning against the arm of Cobb's chair. "Two levels isn't only possible, it's the most efficient way to do this job."

Bone stared at her, his eyes narrowed. He was trying to figure her out, and it made Cobb more anxious than ever. "If you let the subject populate too much of level one, he could put anything in there," he said, directing his words to Cobb. "He could fill it with his high school locker room for all you know."

"It doesn't matter. If that's where he feels comfortable, we'll still be able to use it." Cobb tried not to notice when Mal slipped the beer out of his hands and took a sip. "If we can find Stein in level one and offer a few suggestions to him, they ought to carry down into level two."

"'Ought to' and 'possible' don't make up a job." He looked to Arthur. "Is this really the type you work with these days?"

"And what type is that?" Cobb retorted.

Arthur held up his hand. "Now hold on; Cobb's new to extraction, but he's been using Somnacin for even longer than I have. If he says it's possible, I believe him."

"Probably even longer than you," Mal added smartly.

Bone harrumphed and pulled his box of cigarettes back out. "I doubt that."

"My father is Stephen Miles," Mal continued. "The supervising architect of the original Somnacin project. We've been involved with shared dreaming since almost the beginning."

"Good for you."

"Mal," said Cobb. He took the beer from her and put it aside. "That's enough." Arthur sent him a look, and he knew what it meant, but it would be a struggle to suppress Mal again, and the last thing he wanted was for Bone to see that. "Listen, Mr. Bone: this is my job. If you don't want in, you're not in. It's as simple as that."

Bone scoffed as he lit another cigarette, his gaze on Mal defiant. She glared right back. "You'd let me walk out after spilling the whole job? You've got a lot of work left to do with him, Arthur."

Cobb flushed and started to reply, but Mal beat him to it. "Please don't smoke in here," she said.

Bone took in a deep breath and puffed loudly. "Or what?"

Mal's upper lip curled, and she reached behind her, pulling a small handgun out of the back of her dress. Cobb saw it but was slow to register her intent. Even as she raised the weapon toward their guest it made no sense to him, the scene he was witnessing. Her finger curled around the trigger and she squeezed.

The bullet shredded through Bone's hand, poised over his mouth with the cigarette still held, and shattered teeth on its path though his skull. Blood splattered, and with his spinal cord severed his body twitched and then went limp. His eyes gaped, and his breath shuddered out of him a weak, wet gurgle.

Cobb jerked to his feet, snatching the gun away from Mal far too late. He could barely breathe, but he wrapped Mal in his arms, drawing her back from the gory scene. As Bone slumped in his chair Arthur rushed in to support him, but he could do little but stain his hands in the oozing exit wound.

"Jesus..." Cobb looked to Mal in horror. "What did you do?" A tremor ran through him, and he shook her. "What the hell are you doing?"

Mal's eyes glistened as she turned away from the scene. "I didn't want him in your mind anymore."

"Bone, you're dreaming," Arthur said, bracing the man in his chair. "You hear me? You're just waking up." He glanced back at Cobb, shocked and angry, but then kept his attention on Bone until his eyes rolled back and the horrible, choking noises stopped.

Cobb watched, grimacing. "Is he...?"

"Yeah." Arthur scraped his bloodied hands on the armrest and leaned back. The wary look he shot Mal made Cobb nauseous. He didn't have to voice his questions or his concern.

"I don't know," Cobb stammered, still gripping Mal helplessly. "Jesus, I didn't.... Should we wake each other up?"

Arthur sighed. "Actually, I'm pretty sure he'll--"

The ground fell out from under them, gravity reversed, and then Cobb was falling--crashing to the floor, his chair overturned, the IV ripping painfully from his arm. He didn't have time to catch his breath before Bone was on him, knobby fingers winding in the front of his shirt. The next thing he knew, he was jerked to his feet, and his back struck the wall with a teeth-knocking impact.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Bone hollered, pinning him. "You fucking asshole, are you crazy?"

Cobb fought instinctively, but Bone was stronger than he looked, and he didn't budge. "She's just a projection," he said as calmly as he could manage. "It's not like I--"

"Bullshit!" Bone leaned back, but his arm was tense as if fighting the urge to strike him. "You were bragging about your experience but you can't suppress a single projection? You son of a--"

"Hey, hey!" Arthur came between them, and with a scowl Bone turned away. "Calm down; it's over now. Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not fucking..." Bone scrubbed his mouth against his sleeve; there was sweat on his face, and his eyes were bulging wildly. He shot Cobb one last glare and then headed for the door. "I fucking hate getting shot."

"Bone--" Arthur sighed, and shook his head. "Stay put," he told Cobb. "I'll get him back." He followed Bone out into the hall.

Cobb sagged away from the wall, still partially in shock. He rubbed his face and started to regain some clarity, but when his eyes fell on the PASIV it all fled. With trembling hands he cleaned the needles and packed everything away. He could hear Arthur and Bone conversing at the end of the hall, but he didn't bother to try and overhear; he couldn't get Mal's voice out of his ears. He saw her lift the gun, over and over, himself powerless to stop her. By the time his two compatriots reentered the room the PASIV was taken care of, but Cobb was no closer to fully regaining his composure. So he faked it.

"I'm sorry," he said as soon as they were face to face again. He had meant it just to appease, but as soon as the words were out he could taste their sincerity. "I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean for that."

Bone crossed his arms. In reality he was even rougher than in the dream, with dark circles under his eyes and scars in his hairline. "If I'm on this job, we do all the planning and training in Arthur's mind, with Arthur's projections," he said.

Cobb thumbed his nose. "I suppose that's fair."

"And if you're really going through with your two levels bullcrap, I'm not going into level two. I can hold down a dream better than anyone in this business, but I'm not going deep. You got that?"

"That's fine, fine." Cobb straightened his shirt. He was tempted to tell Arthur they could do the job alone, but he knew that wasn't true. "Let's just take a breather for a while, and we'll meet later tonight so we can get started."

"Fine." Bone stared at him a moment too long and then snorted. "I already have a room here, upstairs. I'll come back after five." He glanced to Arthur, who nodded. "And you owe me."

Arthur smiled sheepishly, but the expression vanished as soon as Bone had shown himself out. He turned on Cobb. "Now what the hell happened?"

Cobb sighed as he dug into his suitcase. "I'm sorry--I don't know. It wasn't intentional, honest."

"I gathered that much." Arthur tossed his jacket on the bed. "I know he's rough, but he's a good extractor and a friend. I was hoping you'd get along."

"He was trying to piss me off." Cobb pulled out his workbook and a pencil. "If he's so good he should have known better when I already had projections around."

"Cobb."

"No--you're right--I'm sorry." Cobb sat down at the room's small table and motioned for Arthur to join him. When Arthur didn't budge, he said again, "I'm sorry, really. It won't happen again."

Arthur thumped into the chair across from him. "Are you all right?" he asked soberly. "I've never seen...your projections act like that."

Me neither. He wasn't all right, but he knew trying to explain himself to Arthur wouldn't make him feel any better about the incident. "I'm fine. Let's just get to work, all right? We'll talk about it later."

Arthur made a face--they weren't going to talk about it later. Still, he scooted closer. "Help me come up with a good cover story, and I'll go to Markneuheiten," he said. "I might not make it through the front door, but I'll get as much intel as I can."

"Right, good." Cobb let his concern fade to the background in favor of the job. He just needed to focus on work, and he would be fine. He was sure of it.

***

Cobb was sick of the rain. It pounded on the roof of the ambulance, dulling even the noisy grind of the traffic surrounding them. It made him nervous. "This isn't going to work," he said.

"It always works," said Bone, chewing on a toothpick. Though cleaned up and freshly shaved, he still didn't look fit to be wearing his bright red EMT jacket. "Just follow my lead and let Arthur do all the talking."

Arthur was seated at the front of vehicle, similarly dressed: the uniforms, the ambulance, and its driver were compliments of Ms. Weston, at Arthur's request. Cobb still had his doubts, but he was still woefully inexperienced in kidnapping methods, and he had little choice but to go along with the plan. He twisted in his seat, trying to see the streets beyond, but the windows were foggy and the rain smeared everything together. "How much longer?"

"I can see them," said Arthur. He flipped open his cell phone, and spoke in German to their accomplice on the other end. "They're in position," he related. "Get ready."

Cobb leaned forward, peering through the seats so that he could see out the windshield. They were stopped at a traffic signal, and a limousine was lumbering through the intersection. Before it could complete its turn, a black truck roared out of the opposite lane and charged forward. Horns blared and Cobb instinctually flinched back, just before the impact.

The truck crashed into the limousine's side with a thunderous percussion. Sides caved in, glass cracked and shattered, and all around cars skidded messily to a halt. Cobb clenched his jaw as he watched drivers peer out of their cars, all of them trying to see what had happened but not willing to brave the rain. He did the same, anxious for a glimpse of flashing lights.

"This was a bad idea," he said. "Someone's going to call the police."

"Shut up." Bone zipped up his jacket and shoved the back doors open. "Arthur and I will handle it."

They piled out the back of the ambulance and were almost immediately drenched. Cobb tried to turn up his collar but it wasn't any help as he hurried past the stopped cars, onto the scene. Arthur was already ahead of them, playing his part perfectly as he ordered witnesses to stay in their vehicles. When a pair of men stumbled out of the front of the limo Arthur moved swiftly to them.

Cobb and Bone headed straight for the uninjured side of the limo. By the time they got there the door was already creaking open, and a broad-shouldered man with steel gray hair stumbled onto the pavement: their target, and Markneuheiten's president. He was disoriented, but Cobb didn't see any injuries, and with a hand braced to the side of the car he regarded his would-be rescuers with irritation. "I don't need your help," he said. "Help my driver."

"Someone is helping him already," said Bone in serviceable German. He took Stein by the arm and steered him toward the ambulance. "Just stay calm, sir."

Cobb glanced back to the scene: Arthur was still with Stein's bodyguards, trying to calm them as they argued with the driver of the truck. But as Bone continued to lead Stein away, one of the guards noticed. He sidestepped Arthur and headed towards them, shouting in German.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," Stein continued to protest, but he was unsteady on his feet and no match for Bone's strength. "Who was that driver? I'm going to sue!"
"Please stay calm," Bone replied. They reached the back of the ambulance, and he forced Stein to sit down on the bumper. He motioned for Cobb. "We're going to take good care of you."

Cobb pulled at the gurney, popping the wheels down as it was exposed so that it rested evenly on the street. While Bone urged Stein to sit down on it, the guard finally reached them. "Mr. Stein, are you all right?" the man said. "Were you injured?"

"I'm fine!" As soon as Bone turned back toward the ambulance Stein tried to stand up, but Cobb prevented him. "Will you tell these assholes I--"

"You have a concussion," Cobb said. His German wasn't as good as Bone and Arthur's, but he had worked hard on the most important phrases for their mission. "We're taking you to the hospital."

"Which one?" the guard asked immediately. "I'll ride with you."

Bone returned with an oxygen mask, and despite Stein's continued irritation slipped it over his face. Within moments the gas--decidedly not oxygen--began to take effect, and Stein slumped. Bone prodded him onto the gurney without further difficulty.

"We're taking him to Franziskus," Cobb told the guard, helping Bone strap Stein down on the gurney. "You can meet us there."

"But Schlosspark is closer."

Bone shoved the gurney into position so it could be raised into the ambulance once more. "Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?" he snarled. "We need to leave right now so go back to your limo and wait for the cops, all right?"

The man glowered. "Now wait a minute--it's my job to--"

Bone ignored him, and Cobb followed his lead, pulling Stein into the vehicle. Cobb feared that the guard would continue his objections, but faced with two turned backs the man relented, and with curses headed back to the limousine.

"Told you so," said Bone as he secured the gurney and yanked the ambulance doors shut.

Cobb rolled his eyes and didn't answer, focusing instead on checking Stein's pulse. Reassured that their target was unconscious, he freed the PASIV from a compartment against the wall. As soon as he opened it he noticed a flash of lights outside. "The cops are here."

Arthur climbed into the passenger side and gave their driver a pat on the shoulder. "They're clearing the way for us," he said, smirking. "Let's get out of here."

The ambulance stared up, and as they pulled away from the scene and its growing police presence, Cobb handed out the IV needles. He inserted Stein's before his own. "We'll need at least half an hour," he told their driver. "Between the rain and the traffic it might take us that long to get to Franziskus anyway, but take us through a few backstreets if you can."

"That shouldn't be hard."

Cobb buckled himself in, and when everyone was ready, he reached for the plunger. He looked to Bone. "You're up."

Bone settled in and closed his eyes. "I'm ready."

Cobb took in a deep breath and pressed the plunger.

***

When Cobb opened his eyes, it was still raining. He felt an adolescent flash of irritation toward Bone for letting the above weather affect the dream, even knowing that it would better adhere Stein to his surroundings. He tugged up the collar of his overcoat and turned toward his fellows. "How does it look?"

The three of them were crowded in the back of a van, Cobb and Arthur in expensive suits, Bone in a mechanic's jumpsuit. It was like some cliché out of a spy movie, with monitors showing the interior of Stein's building, radios and laptops and wires everywhere. Arthur was already looking from one screen to the next, gauging the flow of Stein's employees. "It looks good," he reported. "Stein's heading to his office. The interior all looks to be in order." His lip twitched. "Except for the executive bathroom." He tapped on one of the screens, which displayed a Jacuzzi and spa adjacent to Stein's office. "Herr Stein isn't entirely without imagination, but it's limited." He raised an eyebrow in Bone's direction. "Good work."

Bone snorted and stuck a fresh toothpick in his mouth. "Let's just hope he doesn't have any secrets outside the reach of his own cameras."

"He'd have to be on to us already for that," said Arthur. He handed Cobb a tiny, flesh-colored earpiece, and then slipped one of his own into place. "We stay live at all times. The meeting point in the parking garage looks secure--I'll check it out myself before I meet with Cobb on the eighteenth floor."

Cobb nodded along. "If anything goes wrong, we'll keep you updated," he told Bone as he fit in his earpiece. "If Stein knows enough about shared dreaming to hire extractors, his projections could turn ugly."

"I can handle it," he replied. "It won't be like Barcelona."

Cobb's smile was half grimace. "Then let's get started."

Cobb and Arthur exited the van and hurried across the street. Markneuheiten's headquarters loomed over them, gray and oppressive in the early morning rain. Only the stoutest of Stein's employees were trickling through the revolving doors, and Cobb shared polite nods and friendly smiles to everyone he passed. The projections were hurried but not suspicious of him--a relief, but Cobb knew getting through security would be the true test.

He had to admit, Bone had done good work. Using Arthur's limited intel he had reconstructed Markneuheiten's crisp entranceway with militaristic precision, from the faux marble floors to the number of potted plants on the receptionists' desks. Carefully positioned cameras, clocks, and even sticky notes in the security guard's cubicle gave Stein's subconscious every indication needed for him to fill the empty spaces above just the way they wanted him to. It was a subtle but calculated art that Cobb knew came only with a great deal of experience.

They reached the security checkpoint. Cobb pinned an ID to his lapel and smiled to the guard as he signed in. Arthur did the same, and then both were waved through the metal detectors. In the real world it would have cost time and money to get the IDs and hack Markneuheiten's security, and even then their status as strangers would have left them suspicious. In Bone's mind, everything was taken care of. All it took was a few cues to make Cobb and Arthur respected and welcomed researchers. When Cobb glanced left he even saw his photograph on the wall: employee of the month. He caught Arthur smirking at it as they made their way to the elevators.

"I'll see you up top," Cobb said as he pressed the up and down buttons.

"Watch your back," Arthur replied.

They split up, Cobb taking the elevator up to the eighteenth floor, as planned. As soon as he stepped out, he went to work. His eyes swept back and forth, taking in every detail, soaking in the lighting, memorizing the names on the doors. The air was humid and smelled of rain and pine-scented floor cleaner. There were none of the personal and organic touches that decorated the lobby. Everything was brightly lit and sterile white, even the interior of the offices. Most of them were still empty, given the hour, and Cobb spared a few moments to study them before moving on.

One of the names on the doors matched the fake name on Cobb's ID. Stein subconscious isn't very imaginative, but it is thorough, he thought as he slipped inside. Just as it should be. He hung up his rain-soaked coat and sat down behind his desk. "Bone?" He started up his computer and slipped a USB off his keychain. "Status on Stein?"

"In his office," Bone answered through the earpiece. "I can see you, too. Arthur's just finishing up in the basement."

Cobb plugged in the USB, and immediately a program of Arthur's creation went to work, spreading through Markneuheiten's system: a perfect virus was another thing much easier to create in a dream. Within seconds Cobb's screen flashed up the same collection of security camera shots Bone was looking at in the van. He clicked to the one depicting Stein's office, but there was only so much detail he could draw from the images. A few more clicks and he spotted Arthur riding the elevator up toward him.

The computer bleeped, and Cobb clicked to another window showing a complete progress bar. "I'm in the system," he said. "Arthur will have to be the one to make sense of it, though." He stood. "I'm going after Stein."

Cobb returned to the hallway, and there waited until Arthur had joined him from the elevator. "My computer's on the fritz again," he said for the benefit of any security or coworkers listening. "Mind taking a look at it for me?"

"Sure," said Arthur, and with a smile he ducked into the office.

Stein's office was behind the last door at the end of the hall. Cobb moved swiftly toward it, sparing a smirk for the executive washroom on the way. At the doorway he paused, catching his breath, steeling his nerves. He had practiced, but he knew what was on the line, and the talking to he would get if anything went wrong. He knocked.

The door buzzed open, and Cobb stepped into the reception area, just as pristine as the other offices. It took some salesman charm to get past Stein's narrow-faced assistant, Greta, but she relented, and walked him to Stein's door proper. "Mr. Stein, Mr. Hector is here to see you," she reported.

"Let him in."

Cobb entered, and paused just long enough to get a sweeping view of the office's interior. Everything was sleek, custom made, and meticulous, without any personal touch or welcoming elegance. If Cobb didn't know better he would have thought Stein was a new occupant, not its master of many years.
Once he had soaked everything in, he moved quickly to greet Stein at his desk. "Mr. Stein," he said, "so sorry to disturb you this early in the morning, but it's important."

Stein didn't look up from his computer. He was in much better shape than Cobb had seen him last: he was focused, straight-backed, every bit deserving of his sour reputation. "If it has anything to do with last night's football game, I'm going to fire you," he said irritably.

Cobb wondered only briefly what kind of history Stein's subconscious had written for him as he sat down. He was not a natural actor, but he knew how to get what he wanted out of other people, and to that effort he put on a strained and conspiratorial air and leaned across the desk. "I had a dream last night," he said, quick and nervous.

Stein's attention snapped to him in full. "What?"

"I dreamt that three men infiltrated the building," Cobb said. "They were after the research data. I didn't think much about it at first, but when I got into work today, I noticed..." He rolled up his sleeve and showed Stein the faint scar on the inside of his wrist.

Stein cursed. "And you just let them have it, did you? Everything they were after?"

"I couldn't help it--it was just a dream. At least, I thought it was." Cobb rubbed his beard. "Sir, I'm sorry. But maybe it's really nothing, maybe--"

"Quiet." Stein grabbed up his desk phone and began dialing. "I'm going to have someone take a look at you. He'll be able to tell."

Cobb straightened. He didn't really believe the whole extraction could be so simple, but he was hopeful, desperately hopeful, that they wouldn't have to go any deeper after all. "Who?"

"Quiet!"

"I've got the call," Arthur buzzed in his ear. "I'll patch you both in."

Stein's call was answered on the second ring by a precise British accent. "What is it?"

Cobb fought not to straighten in his chair; despite his limited experience with the man, he recognized the voice instantly.

"That's Jensen," Arthur confirmed. "I'll try to trace it."

"This is Stein," said Stein. "I thought I was paying you to keep me informed."

"I beg your pardon?"

"One of my workers may have been extracted from. I need you to come take a look at him."

Cobb fidgeted, itching to speak to his partners, but all he could do was listen. "Very well," said Jensen. "Have my fee ready for me."

"Jensen is an information broker," Bone said as the two men haggled over a price. "He rarely goes under at all, let alone with clients."

"But Stein wouldn't know that," Arthur replied. "If he went through Jensen to hire his extractors, he must assume Jensen is one of us. This proves Jensen's playing both sides, if nothing else." He scoffed. "Try to keep the 'I told you so' to yourself, Cobb."

Cobb smothered a grin beneath his hand, relieved that they already had at least one name to give to Weston that he wouldn't mind selling out. He was careful to look sheepish and serious by the time Stein was off the phone. "Now," said Stein, "tell me everything you remember about your dream."

"It's not much, Sir," Cobb replied. He leaned forward against Stein's desk. "There were...three men. They snuck into the building somehow, trapped me in my office. I think they were trying to find out about the new project."

"God damn Weston. I didn't expect her to catch on so quickly." Stein picked up his phone again and dialed too few numbers for an outside call. "Send Kortig up here," he barked into the receiver. "And put security on high alert."

"Kortig is the head of security, and he's on the move," Bone said as soon as Stein hung up. "You'd better pull out, Arthur."

"Heard that before. Hold on; I couldn't trace Jensen's call so I'm trying to get to Stein's schedule, see if he met Jensen here the last time."

"I'm pretty sure that it must have happened at my home," said Cobb, trying to distract Stein--and his subconscious--from an immediate threat. "We have security, but nothing fancy enough to fight off extractors. Sir, I'm--"

Arthur cursed through the earpiece, and an instant later, Stein's phone rang. Stein answered; Cobb couldn't make out what the man on the line was saying, but he had Arthur to fill in.

"They caught me," he reported. "System's locked down. We're going to have to move on."

Stein slammed the receiver back into place. "They're here. Someone's trying to hack into our mainframe." He rounded the desk and yanked Cobb to his feet. "Maybe they weren't able to get it out of you after all, but I'm not taking that chance."

Cobb allowed Stein to lead him out of the office. "Where are we going?"

"Security. You and the rest of your department are staying with Kortig until these men are taken care of."

They stepped into the hallway, and as they passed Cobb's office, he tugged Stein to a halt. "I think Kurt's the only one in yet," he said, knocking on the door.

Arthur emerged, and though he did a good job of looking confused and nonthreatening, Stein eyed him with suspicion. "Why aren't you in your office?" he asked.

"Carl said his computer was on the fritz," Arthur said. "Asked me to take a look at it."

Stein glanced between the two of them, and just when it looked like he was about to speak, the elevator opened with a quiet chime. A man in a security uniform stood inside: six foot five at least, with red whiskers and spattered freckles. Cobb tried not to gulp, wondering if the lessons in dream combat Arthur had given him were up to the task. He shared a glance with Arthur, and when he received a subtle nod in answer, he said, "There's been some kind of breach. Mr. Stein wants us all down in security for safe-keeping."

They headed for the elevator, and though Stein still looked unconvinced by their acting, he followed. "A breach?" Arthur repeated. His gaze flickered up and down the head of security they were drawing toward. "Then the safest thing to do would be to meet up in the garage, don't you think?"

Cobb ignored the confused look Stein cast them. His pulse rose into his ears, but he was resolute. "If you think you can handle Big Red."

"As long as you've got Earl Grey."

By the time Stein caught on it was too late. Arthur slipped into the elevator, and as smoothly as if it were an everyday occurrence, he twisted and jabbed his heel hard into the back of Kortig's knee. The man stumbled, grabbing for a handhold, but then Arthur put all his weight into his elbow at the back of Kortig's neck, smashing his face into the edge of the elevator door. Blood poured from his broken nose, and as Arthur kicked him into the hall, Cobb snatched Stein by his lapels and dragged him inside.

"You!" Stein twisted in Cobb's grip. He used his greater size to shove Cobb into the corner of the elevator, hands grasping for his throat. "It's you, you traitor!"

Cobb struggled, but then he remembered what Arthur had taught him: they were dreaming, and he was only as strong as he believed himself to be. He let Stein grab him by the throat, repositioning their bodies so that he was able to thrust his knee into Stein's diaphragm. It was enough to weaken Stein and throw him off balance, and then Arthur was there, dragging Stein into the opposite corner. As Cobb caught his breath, Arthur shoved Stein to the floor and pressed the heel of his dress shoe into his throat.
"Cooperate," Arthur said coolly, "and we won't have to kill you." The elevator whirred as it began its descent.

"Well done, Arthur," said Bone. "But they're just going to wait until you get to the ground floor and stop the elevator remotely. Security's already gathering."

Arthur motioned for Cobb to take his place. "Then we'll have to get off before then." He pulled a letter opener out of his sleeve--swiped from Cobb's desk--and used it to pry the elevator panel open.

Cobb took Arthur's place in watching over Stein, and was relieved when the man remained still, requiring no detainment. "Mr. Stein," he said, "we know you asked Jensen to hire a team of extractors. Who are they, and what are they trying to steal from Edina Weston?"

Stein spat. "You are making a dangerous mistake, Carl," he said. "I've been good to you for a long time. Not anymore."

Cobb glanced over his shoulder. "Is Jensen not enough?"

"We can't sell out Jensen," said Arthur as he tinkered with the elevator wires. "He has too much clout--we'd be better off leaving the business."

Bone grumbled unintelligibly. "They're on to me, too," he said. "I've been cut out of the security camera feed. But Arthur's right--we need another name."

Cobb frowned. "Then we continue as planned."

Arthur hit the emergency stop, and the elevator halted at the third floor. One more twist of the wires later the doors slid open; Cobb could only imagine the security staff struggling to adjust. He turned toward Stein, preparing himself for a difficult push to the garage, when his thoughts were interrupted by a fist rushing toward his face.

Cobb lurched back and was just fast enough to avoid being decked, but Stein kept coming at him. They collided in the open doorway, Stein's broad hands like bear paws aiming again at his throat. Cobb retreated, twisted, trying to throw Stein off, but he didn't have the height or weight to keep from being thrown to the ground. They grappled only briefly before Stein struggled upright to make a run for it.

Arthur gave chase, but Cobb knew it was a wasted effort; he could hear the startled shouts of other office workers, who had gathered in the third floor cafeteria. Security was doubtlessly on their way and wrangling Stein would be difficult enough, let alone herding him to the meeting point without even weapons to threaten him with.

"Bone, are you in position?" Cobb asked as he clawed to his feet.

"Almost. What's going on up there?"

"Just get the door open and be ready."

Cobb chased after his partner and their target. A short hall opened into the main cafeteria, and though it was sparsely populated, Stein was heading for the kitchen, where he would doubtlessly find more staff members to defend him. Arthur was close behind and closing, but when Cobb glanced over his shoulder he caught a glance of the stairwell door bursting open. In seconds they would have security all over them.

Cobb clenched his fists, concentrating. The dream surrounding them was solid and steady, a testament to the experience of their dreamer, but Cobb knew all the secrets, knew at which seams to pull. Stein was less than five feet away when the kitchen door he had been heading toward slammed shut and welded into the frame, making it an impenetrable wall. Stein rammed into it with all his momentum; it would have been comedic if Cobb hadn't already been planning his next move.

Arthur caught up to Stein, pinning him to the new wall. "Cobb? You'd better not be--"

He was cut off when the floor fell out from under them. Like a trap door from an old cartoon the tiles gave way, and Stein and Arthur tumbled down an iron chute that sliced through the floor beneath it, directly into the parking garage in the sub-basement. Cobb could hear them cursing the entire way down.

Stein's projections stared. Their eyes were wide, faces blank, revealing their thoughtless nature. Cobb didn't wait to see if they had fully caught on; he leapt down the chute, and as soon as he was clear of the opening it sealed shut behind him. His suit pulled uncomfortably against the slide, but it was a short distance, and within seconds he was rolling across the cold concrete of the parking garage.

"Damn it, Cobb." Arthur hauled him to his feet; he was trying to look cross, but Cobb could see the sliver of amusement in the upturn of his lip. "You can't just change things like that--his projections are going to be all over us."

Cobb glanced about and spotted Stein sprawled on the floor. There was a dart sticking out of his neck, and Bone was dragging him toward the open side door of the van. "I didn't think we had a choice," he said. "We need to get Stein out of here before his security catches up." He gave Arthur a slap on the arm and then helped Bone load their once-again-unconscious mark into the van. "Besides, even if they come after us, I'm sure Bone can handle it." He raised an eyebrow. "Right?"

Bone narrowed his eyes at him and then finished strapping Stein down. "I can handle anything this old blowhard throws at me."

Cobb shot Arthur a smirk as they climbed into the van. "Were you able to hack into Stein's schedule?"

"No. They cut me out too soon for that." Arthur belted himself in, and Cobb did the same, as Bone took to the driver's seat and drove for the exit. "But if Stein was willing to call Jensen right to his office, they could have met there. We could reenact this entire level--minus breaching security--and just wait for Jensen to show up. Extract the name directly from Stein's projection of him."

The van roared out of the parking garage just as the emergency doors began to trill in warning. When Cobb looked through the back windows he caught a glimpse of men in security uniforms racing to their cars. "You mean, torture him?" he asked, an unpleasant taste at the back of his throat.

"That might not work, depending on Stein's impression of Jensen," warned Bone as he swerved down a side street. "If he thinks Jensen can't be compromised, he can't."

"I get the feeling Stein doesn't think that highly of anyone," said Cobb, glancing at the man in question. He took Stein's pulse just to be sure. "But I'd rather not try another abduction if it's going to end up like this one."

Car horns blared, and as if determined to prove Cobb right a truck veered into oncoming traffic straight at them. Bone cursed and jerked on the wheel--the tires screeched on the wet asphalt, and the seatbelt dug into Cobb's waist as inertia shoved him away from the siding. There was one horrible, gut-turning moment when the rear end fish-tailed, but Bone got the vehicle swiftly under control. The truck missed them by bare inches and crashed headlong into the car behind them.

"I don't think that was building security," Bone said unnecessarily.

"All of his projections are going to be after us thanks to you and your playground slide," Arthur grumbled.

"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't tripped his security in the first place." Cobb leaned around the front seats to try and see the road--he had had enough of car crashes for one day and he was determined to see another before it happened. "Don't worry; all we need is a safe house. Once we're in level two his projections will settle down."

"It's too bad we don't have a forger," said Arthur. "Someone who could pose as Jensen and just tell Stein to call up his extractor."

They swerved down another street, past a duo of police cars with lights flashing, into a factory district full of hollow, towering buildings. Everything was crumbling and abandoned, the buildings slumping against each other like glassy-eyed old men huddling defenseless in the still pouring rain. The bricks and dumpsters and rusty chain-links would appear at first glance to be nothing more than a haphazard arrangement of industrial chaos, but each was specifically placed, creating from the raw waste a complex and elegant maze. Within a few turns Bone had lost their pursuers and was able to continue to their designated safe house with ease.

"I'll recreate the office," said Cobb as they parked in the shipping bay and unstrapped Stein. "But I'll set the date back a few weeks, and see if I can set myself up as Stein's right hand. Then maybe..."

Cobb trailed off when Arthur pulled the side door open, granting the three of them a proper look of the building's interior. It was all cold concrete and moldy brick, as it was meant to be, but more than abandoned assembly lines filled the four walls: several bodies were strewn across the ground, dressed in ragged layers soiled with dirt and fresh blood. Their limbs were contorted into uncomfortable angles, as if each man had been gunned down in mid-motion. Cobb stared at them, already knowing what had happened and who was responsible but not wanting the proof. He took in a deep breath. "Mal?"

Mal stepped out from behind a steel pillar. She was dressed in the same summer halter dress that had been her wardrobe of late, except that the hem was spattered with a gruesome stain. There was no sign of a gun in her hands but he didn't doubt that she would have one if she felt she needed it. "You're here sooner than I expected," she said, smiling.

Arthur was glaring at him; he shook his head, and cast only a quick glance at Bone in the front seat before climbing out of the van. "I didn't expect you to be here at all," he said, and when she moved in close, he kissed her cheek. It spread goose bumps down his neck. "How did you know where to meet us?"

"I helped you design this level," Mal said. "I know it almost better than you do. Hello, Arthur." She shot a sly smile at the van. "Benjamin."

Bone still had both hands on the wheel as if eager to drive off at a moment's notice. Arthur reached over the seat to give his shoulder a squeeze and then hopped out. "Looks like you took out Stein's projections for us," he said.

Mal took Cobb's hand and led them toward the far room. "As far as Stein's subconscious is concerned, all abandoned buildings are full of deranged homeless people," she said. "As soon as they showed signs of becoming agitated, I took care of it. A maze is useless against projections already at the center, no?"

"Thank you," said Cobb. "That was...a good idea. You're right." It wasn't until they were through the door that he heard Bone slip out of the van. "So is everything set up?"

Mal pointed to the center of the small room, where a PASIV was set out and open on a square card table. Four office chairs surrounded it; Arthur grabbed one and wheeled it out. "I'll get Stein," he offered, and on his way out shot Cobb a look that clearly said, Handle this.

Cobb sighed. "Mal." He squeezed her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"I thought you could use my help," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "Especially considering whose dream this is. I still don't trust him."

Cobb glanced to the door and back. "I don't either, really, but he does good work."

"Oh please. If he wasn't so amateurish I wouldn't have had to clean this place out, now would I?" Mal leaned over the card table and began setting the PASIV. "Half an hour should be more than enough. Do you want me to forge Jensen for you? It's been a while since I tried forging, but I'm sure Stein won't be able to tell the difference."

"No, that's not necessary." Cobb shook himself and moved to help her. "I have a plan. I just need you to...watch my back."

Arthur returned, pushing the still-unconscious Stein in the office chair. He didn't say anything as he rolled up Stein's sleeve and allowed Mal to insert the IV, but when Mal took to one of the chairs herself, he immediately straightened up. "You're coming with us?"

"Unless you'd rather I stay here," she said. Her gaze slid to the doorway where Bone was hanging back, watching the proceedings uncomfortably. "I could help Benjamin keep Stein's projections at bay."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Cobb said quickly. He sat down next to Mal and slipped the needle into his arm. "Like I said, I'm going to recreate the office--with a few modifications--and get in close to Stein. Arthur, just find yourself an office and wait for my signal. You might need to play the part of the compromised employee, depending on how Stein is down there."

"All right." Arthur checked Stein's pulse one more time and then joined them. He looked to Bone. "If you need help up here, just give me a kick."

"Don't worry about me," said Bone without taking his eyes off Mal.

Cobb closed his eyes. He played back the last hour against the black of his eyelids; he easily recalled the sterile hallways and straight-angled offices, but when Mal's warm hand slid into his, his concentration faltered. Her soft skin awoke in him memories of the cityscapes they had built together, glowing hearths wrapped in pristine skyscrapers, empty beaches far removed from Stein's rainy metropolis. When he heard Arthur press the plunger he reeled himself in, just in time for the drug to take over his system.

Part 2
Master Post