[Inception fic] Hero Today [4b/7]
Title: Hero Today
Author: saintdogstreet
Fandom: Inception
Word Count: ~6600
Rating: R
Warnings: Profanity, violence, possibly some sensitive themes and sexual situations touched on later. Arthur/Eames; Cobb/Mal. Unbetaed.
Summary: For the help_pakistan auction. Arthur is a barista by day and the masked superhero Vindicate by night. Life would be good, if he wasn't hopelessly in love with the businessman who visits his coffee shop every morning. Oh, and if somebody wasn't trying to kill him.
A/N: For zeto.
A/N 2: This chapter is largely an info-dump. I think I buggered my pacing at some point and it hasn't returned any of my calls, so bear with me.
**
He grips the two remaining cups of coffee by their handles and heads out into the living room, Cobb and Eames trailing after him. Zero heaves himself off the floor and follows at his heels.
Saito is sitting on Cobb's armchair with one leg folded over the other, tapping quickly on a sleek little black phone. He's looking far too well put-together this morning.
"Morning," Arthur says, and sets the mugs down carefully on the coffee table. Saito has the TV on to the news, the picture staining the floor in flickering light and the brittle voices of the journalists like a dull hum of white noise. "Coffee?"
Saito pauses and looks up, nodding politely at the three of them. He reaches for the remote, hitting the mute button, and the newscaster's voice is abruptly silenced. "Good morning. Yes, thank you."
He picks up the cup, and his face morphs pleasantly as he tastes the coffee, eyes slipping closed.
"This is quite good," he says, blowing on the dark ripples and taking another sip.
"Oh, it's nothing," Arthur says, waving a hand dismissively. He takes a seat and the others follow suit, taking dragging sips out of their cups in a simultaneous motion. The dog slumps down at Arthur's side, curling himself up loosely.
"So, Mag, Mr. Saito, you two come up with anything this morning?" he asks.
"I was explaining to Magnificent Man as to what my business engagement with Mr. Fischer was regarding," Saito says.
"And that is?"
"We were discussing a. . . weapon that my company has been on contract with your government to design."
Weapons. Fuck. Arthur has never been fond of weapons. They tend to make things. . . messy.
"What are we talking about here? Something nuclear?" Cobb asks critically.
Saito shakes his head. "No. Something even more dangerous than that, perhaps. Something the likes of which this world has never seen before."
"That's what they always say," Eames mutters derisively.
"Mr. Fischer was interested in the design plans. He was making me quite a lucrative offer; however, last night I was going to tell him that I would be unable to accept. I have a contract with your government, and not one that I'm willing to renege on. Bad for business," Saito says.
"But then the Executive sent Magnificent and myself in and everything went to hell," Arthur says. "So. . . what? The Executive wants this weapon of yours?"
"He's always been a bit of a power-hungry bastard," Cobb says, shrugging. "Makes sense to me."
Eames whistles lowly. Arthur doesn't even want to think about what the Executive could do to his city with a thing that dangerous in his hands.
"Fuck, what's he planning? World domination?" Cobb continues.
Eames tsks. "How cliche."
Arthur shakes his head. "Doesn't matter what he wants with it, we just have to make sure he never gets it. But why kill Saito?"
"With Mr. Saito here dead, Proclus Global would look a hot mess to all of its investors," Eames says slowly. "Everything would be moved around. Maybe the Exec thought he could steal the plans when the government transferred them over to a new client, or when Proclus Global transported their own copies. It's always easier to steal something when it's on the move, security can't be as tight."
"But Saito isn't dead," Arthur says, nodding to the man. "So what's the Executive's plan now?"
Eames frowns contemplatively around the rim of his mug. "There's a buddy of mine who used to be in the business. Still has all sorts of connections. If anyone has an idea of what's going on, it's him."
"'The business?'" Arthur asks. Eames grins.
"The only one there is. Got to be pretty close to good ol' Execy, back in the day. Before he called it quits. Used to design defensive suits and weaponry. Probably had a hand in your own cloth, Vin."
"And he'll be willing to share his information?" Cobb asks.
Eames shrugs. "For the right price."
Arthur nods, taking a sip of his coffee. In his peripherals he catches sight of the TV, the washed-out photos of a crime scene scrolling across the screen. Cinder-blocks and blood stains and a brief image of a familiar purple-clad figure and, oh, shit.
He freezes, mug halfway down from his mouth.
"Hang on," he says, staring at the TV. He gestures to Saito. "Turn up the volume."
Saito obliges with a shrug and the voice of that one pretty newscaster Arthur recognizes snaps into existence in Cobb's living room.
"--local Lynwood resident Nathaniel Nash was found dead last night in his jail cell. Mr. Nash was discovered to be the civilian alter-ego of notorious supervillain Havoc earlier this week. His identity was revealed after his attempts to rob the Second National Bank were thwarted by the vigilante crusader known as Vindicate. While the police have remained a no-comment stance on Mr. Nash's case, an inside source informs us that they do suspect foul play was involved in Mr. Nash's death. More on that story tonight. This is Ariadne Alfiere, reporting."
"Aw, hell," Arthur says.
"Jesus," Eames says sympathetically. Cobb places a warm hand on Arthur's shoulder briefly.
Arthur has no love for Havoc, but there is a certain kind of bond between even villains and heroes, when both wear a mask.
And as much as Arthur wanted Havoc caught, he hadn't wanted him dead.
"I only just saw him a few days ago, at the bank. . ." Arthur trails off, shaking his head. Unjust as this is, Havoc isn't a man for him to mourn, and they don't have the time for Arthur's own guilt.
"Second National?" Saito says thoughtfully, watching the TV. "Funny. Proclus Global has several accounts there."
"Really?" Eames asks. He leans forward on his seat, leather crinkling beneath him, hands sliding down the tops of his thighs to cup his knees. "At the risk of sounding unduly paranoid, that sounds a bit too much like a coincidence to me. And I've not a big believer in coincidences, unless they involve happening to have both handcuffs and whip cream on hand at the same time. First someone tries to rob your bank, then then somebody else tries to kill you? Mr. Saito, you're having a bad week."
"It's not bad until I start losing money, Magnificent Man," Saito says calmly. "Keeping myself alive is just routine."
"That said," Cobb says, "And as much as it pains me to say this, Magnificent is right. What kind of accounts do you have with Second National?"
"Predominantly safety deposit boxes. We have a long-standing arrangement with Second National in securing our west coast material assets. The security system for their vault remains one of the most advanced in the country," Saito says.
"Material assets?" Arthur asks. "Such as?"
"The intricacies of my company's funds remain a confidential matter, Vindicate, even in these pressing circumstances--" Saito says.
"Diamonds," Eames interjects. "I'd guess the bloody kind. Bullion, maybe. Deeds. All the usual things, I'm sure, Mr. Saito, but never mind that, we're not interested in whatever hot commodities you've got locked away -- I'm thinking we're looking for something a bit more unusual."
"Yes, I was getting to that. Despite my inability to reveal details regarding the majority of my assets," he shoots Eames a pointed look. "We have also been storing something at Second National a bit more relevant to the matter at hand. Worth less to the casual on-looker, but no doubt the initial target of Havoc's robbery attempt -- as of late, we have been keeping blueprints at the bank."
"Damn," Cobb says. "For your little weapon?"
"Indeed," Mr. Saito says.
"Well, fuck me with a ladle," Eames whistles.
Cobb shudders.
"Havoc's a couple shots short of an macchiato," Arthur says. "Or, well, he was. By the time I got inside the bank, he was asking for money, not anything in the safety deposit boxes. But if the security system is as good as you say, I can see him panicking and trying to make a quick buck instead. But world domination isn't exactly the kind of plan he'd come up with on his own."
"Oh, fuck," Eames says. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"
"The Executive had to have put him up to it. The head of the Legion of Tomorrow is working with people from COBOL," Arthur confirms.
Even beneath the mask, Arthur can see Eames's revulsion. Even Saito looks appalled. He gets it, the words stick to his tongue like grime.
". . .Would this be an inopportune time to say I told you so?" Cobb asks.
"Yes," Arthur says. "It really would."
"Too bad. I told you Legion was bad news! And now, look, apparently your boss is in cahoots with the largest organization of supervillains in the world. Jesus Christ, Vinny, we are fucked."
"Proper fucked," Eames agrees, resting the edge of his jaw on one hand with a sigh.
"I told you, Fox, I didn't have any other choice!"
"No!" Cobb snaps. "Don't give me that. Don't you dare. All those years ago, Fennec, we made a choice. Everyday, we made a choice. We chose to stand. We chose to be heroes. We chose to keep fighting, even when the people we were fighting for turned their backs on us. We chose to do good. We tried to fix this city of ours instead of trying to break her any further. We could've used our strength and our skill to shoot up streets or rob banks or kill people. We could've joined COBOL. We could've become villains. But we didn't. Over and over again, we chose to be good, Fennec. And if there's one thing in all those years I hope to god I taught you, it's that we always have a choice."
Arthur closes his eyes. He can hear his own blood rushing in his ears, like a great empty ocean. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
"I know," Cobb says sympathetically. "I know, Vindicate. And that's why I know you're not going to stop until you've fixed this. That's what heroes do."
"Do you think, Fox, that after everything I've done for the Executive, I'm still a hero?" Arthur asks tiredly.
"Oh, Vindicate," Eames says before Cobb can respond. He reaches over the table, grabs Arthur's hand lightly in his own calloused grip. "It's not something you are. It's is something you do."
Arthur looks at their hands, wrapped together firm and sure. He glances up at Eames and, after a moment, he smiles.
"Well then. Let's go and be heroes."
Eames squeezes his hand once, tightly, before letting him go.
Arthur looks up. Cobb is nodding at him, and Arthur can't see his eyes but from the set of his jaw he knows they're filled with steel. Saito has his own mouth set in a grim line, ready to follow, and Arthur understands that, too. It's a kind of vengeance driving him, maybe -- but even that aside, people have a habit of following the primary colors. It's no wonder Saito's been so cooperative. You can't help but trust a superhero.
"All right then," Arthur says determinedly. "We sh--"
Bzzzzzz.
There is a gravelly buzz as Saito's phone vibrates on the coffee table. Saito apologizes and picks it up, and Arthur frowns. There is something there, something he's missing, something he's forgot. . .
"Shit," Arthur says. "Shit. Who have you talked to?"
Saito raises an eyebrow, glancing up from the screen. "Pardon?"
"Shit," Arthur says again, feeling like an idiot. Adrenaline filters rapidly through him. His shoulder twinges painfully. "The meeting. Fuck, your meeting with Fischer. The Executive knew about it."
"You look gorgeous in a skin-tight suit! Oh, I 'm sorry, I was under the impression we were randomly stating the obvious in a dramatic way. Yes, of course the Executive knew -- oh, Shit," Eames hisses, as he suddenly gets it. "You're thinking inside job?"
Cobb groans as he catches up, rubbing a hand against his temple. "Shit."
Arthur nods. "I was thinking it before I went out there, but oh fuck me, I forgot. Shit shit shit."
"In your defense, you were a touch distracted," Eames nods at his shoulder pointedly.
Arthur shakes his head angrily but doesn't say a word.
"I'm sorry?" Saito asks. "What are you saying? You think one of my men informed the head of the Legion of Tomorrow of my meeting with Mr. Fischer?"
Arthur nods again. "Yours or Fischer's. It's the only way the Executive could've known, isn't it?"
"I can assure you, knowledge of that evening was entrusted only to my closest men," Saito says disapprovingly. "And all of my personnel have the utmost loyalty to me."
"That's all well and good, Mr. Saito," Cobb says. "But Fen's right. Somehow Legion got a hold of it, and an inside man is the most likely case."
Saito's lips press together in a thin line.
"So, Mr. Saito. I ask again. Who have you talked to? What have you told them?" Arthur says.
Saito stares at him hard, and Arthur stares back, unblinking behind his mask.
Finally, Saito says, "I've spoken to several of my personal advisers, letting them know that I am still alive and at a safe location."
"Did you tell them where?" Eames presses.
Saito shakes his head. "No. I did not."
Arthur can hear all three of them give a short sigh of relief.
"But," Saito says, with a touch of regret. "They'll be able to track my phone."
There is another tense pause. Zero whines lowly at his feet, sensitive to the current of emotion running through the room.
"Here," Eames says suddenly, stretching his hand out, palm up, to Saito, curling his fingers eagerly in the universal gesture for give it here. "I have to work with tech guys all the time, I think I might've learned a thing or two that can help us."
Saito pulls his phone out and Eames gives a nod of thanks as he takes it. He slides it open, studying the screen intently and clicking a couple of buttons.
"Hmm," Eames says, nodding to himself. "Yeah. Nice. This thing have Tetris?"
"It--" Saito begins, and before he can finish Eames drops the phone to the ground and raises his foot.
STOMP STOMP STOMP.
"There," Eames says. "That should do it."
"What the hell?!" Saito says, eyes flashing.
"I thought you worked with tech people?" Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow. Eames shrugs.
"Pretentious twats. Never can get an understandable word out of them. At any rate, that should buy us some time."
"Is that your solution to everything?" Cobb asks drily. "Smash it?"
"Sometimes I prefer banging," Eames shoots back.
Saito is still gaping angrily and incredulously. Arthur shakes his head to clear his thoughts.
"Some time, yeah, but not forever," he says. "We need to get out of here."
Cobb sighs. He shoots Arthur a frustrated look. "I like this house."
"I know," Arthur says sympathetically.
"I really like this house. Great location. Open floor plan. The real estate agent called it ultramodern."
"Fox, I'm not blowing it up--"
"Oh, no, not like last time."
"Hey now, that was at least fifty percent Nightshade's fault. Possibly sixty."
"You were a bad influence on her."
"Me?!"
"Ahem," Eames says. "We were fleeing."
"Right."
"Of course."
"Well then," Cobb says, rubbing his palms together a little too eagerly for Arthur's liking. Even with the mask on, Arthur knows him well enough to know he has that slightly manic look in his eyes, the one that heralds some kind of ass-kicking. He stands up, and Arthur can't help but stand with him. "Let's suit u--"
"Um, Fox?" Arthur says, shifting on his feet. "Legion's probably got sepia-tinted wanted posters for us up in all the post offices by now. We go out there in suits and we'll be taken down before you can say menace to society."
Fox sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Vindicate."
"Yes, Fox?"
"I like saying the "suit up!" bit."
Arthur sympathizes. "I know."
Fox sighs again, resigned. "All right, fine. So what's the plan?"
"We should split up," Eames says.
Arthur groans. Cobb shakes his head in undisguised disgust.
Glaring at Eames, Arthur demands, "Why'd you have to say that?"
"What?" Eames asks, confused.
"'Let's split up.' Come on. You ever see a movie where anything good happens after someone says, 'Let's split up?'" Arthur gripes.
"You've jinxed us," Cobb says mournfully.
"We're gonna go down like blonde sexpots in a horror film, now," Arthur sighs.
"You people are all crazy," Saito mumbles. "And you owe me a phone."
Fair enough. The "everybody trusts a hero thing" only goes so far, after all.
"Yes, well, my point stands," Eames says. "We should split up."
"As much as it pains me to say this, he's right," Arthur says. "Golden Fox, I'm assuming you've still got some safe houses from back in the day?"
"Wasn't that long ago," Cobb grumbles. "And, yeah."
"Great, why don't you take Saito here to one of them and lay low for a bit. Sound good?"
"I guess," Cobb says. "You good with that, Mr. Saito?"
"Yes," Saito says, nodding. "It seems like an adequate plan, for the moment."
"Peachy," Fox says. "I get to be stuck with the fucking tourist. Where are you headed, Fennec?"
"He's coming with me. That is, if you don't mind, love," Eames says, standing up and slinging an arm around Arthur's shoulder. "Vinny and I need to go have a chat with an old friend of mine."
"And where is this old friend of yours, Magnificent?" Arthur asks, carefully extricating himself out from under Eames's elbow, cheeks burning.
Eames grins. "You ever been to Mombasa?"
**
Author: saintdogstreet
Fandom: Inception
Word Count: ~6600
Rating: R
Warnings: Profanity, violence, possibly some sensitive themes and sexual situations touched on later. Arthur/Eames; Cobb/Mal. Unbetaed.
Summary: For the help_pakistan auction. Arthur is a barista by day and the masked superhero Vindicate by night. Life would be good, if he wasn't hopelessly in love with the businessman who visits his coffee shop every morning. Oh, and if somebody wasn't trying to kill him.
A/N: For zeto.
A/N 2: This chapter is largely an info-dump. I think I buggered my pacing at some point and it hasn't returned any of my calls, so bear with me.
**
He grips the two remaining cups of coffee by their handles and heads out into the living room, Cobb and Eames trailing after him. Zero heaves himself off the floor and follows at his heels.
Saito is sitting on Cobb's armchair with one leg folded over the other, tapping quickly on a sleek little black phone. He's looking far too well put-together this morning.
"Morning," Arthur says, and sets the mugs down carefully on the coffee table. Saito has the TV on to the news, the picture staining the floor in flickering light and the brittle voices of the journalists like a dull hum of white noise. "Coffee?"
Saito pauses and looks up, nodding politely at the three of them. He reaches for the remote, hitting the mute button, and the newscaster's voice is abruptly silenced. "Good morning. Yes, thank you."
He picks up the cup, and his face morphs pleasantly as he tastes the coffee, eyes slipping closed.
"This is quite good," he says, blowing on the dark ripples and taking another sip.
"Oh, it's nothing," Arthur says, waving a hand dismissively. He takes a seat and the others follow suit, taking dragging sips out of their cups in a simultaneous motion. The dog slumps down at Arthur's side, curling himself up loosely.
"So, Mag, Mr. Saito, you two come up with anything this morning?" he asks.
"I was explaining to Magnificent Man as to what my business engagement with Mr. Fischer was regarding," Saito says.
"And that is?"
"We were discussing a. . . weapon that my company has been on contract with your government to design."
Weapons. Fuck. Arthur has never been fond of weapons. They tend to make things. . . messy.
"What are we talking about here? Something nuclear?" Cobb asks critically.
Saito shakes his head. "No. Something even more dangerous than that, perhaps. Something the likes of which this world has never seen before."
"That's what they always say," Eames mutters derisively.
"Mr. Fischer was interested in the design plans. He was making me quite a lucrative offer; however, last night I was going to tell him that I would be unable to accept. I have a contract with your government, and not one that I'm willing to renege on. Bad for business," Saito says.
"But then the Executive sent Magnificent and myself in and everything went to hell," Arthur says. "So. . . what? The Executive wants this weapon of yours?"
"He's always been a bit of a power-hungry bastard," Cobb says, shrugging. "Makes sense to me."
Eames whistles lowly. Arthur doesn't even want to think about what the Executive could do to his city with a thing that dangerous in his hands.
"Fuck, what's he planning? World domination?" Cobb continues.
Eames tsks. "How cliche."
Arthur shakes his head. "Doesn't matter what he wants with it, we just have to make sure he never gets it. But why kill Saito?"
"With Mr. Saito here dead, Proclus Global would look a hot mess to all of its investors," Eames says slowly. "Everything would be moved around. Maybe the Exec thought he could steal the plans when the government transferred them over to a new client, or when Proclus Global transported their own copies. It's always easier to steal something when it's on the move, security can't be as tight."
"But Saito isn't dead," Arthur says, nodding to the man. "So what's the Executive's plan now?"
Eames frowns contemplatively around the rim of his mug. "There's a buddy of mine who used to be in the business. Still has all sorts of connections. If anyone has an idea of what's going on, it's him."
"'The business?'" Arthur asks. Eames grins.
"The only one there is. Got to be pretty close to good ol' Execy, back in the day. Before he called it quits. Used to design defensive suits and weaponry. Probably had a hand in your own cloth, Vin."
"And he'll be willing to share his information?" Cobb asks.
Eames shrugs. "For the right price."
Arthur nods, taking a sip of his coffee. In his peripherals he catches sight of the TV, the washed-out photos of a crime scene scrolling across the screen. Cinder-blocks and blood stains and a brief image of a familiar purple-clad figure and, oh, shit.
He freezes, mug halfway down from his mouth.
"Hang on," he says, staring at the TV. He gestures to Saito. "Turn up the volume."
Saito obliges with a shrug and the voice of that one pretty newscaster Arthur recognizes snaps into existence in Cobb's living room.
"--local Lynwood resident Nathaniel Nash was found dead last night in his jail cell. Mr. Nash was discovered to be the civilian alter-ego of notorious supervillain Havoc earlier this week. His identity was revealed after his attempts to rob the Second National Bank were thwarted by the vigilante crusader known as Vindicate. While the police have remained a no-comment stance on Mr. Nash's case, an inside source informs us that they do suspect foul play was involved in Mr. Nash's death. More on that story tonight. This is Ariadne Alfiere, reporting."
"Aw, hell," Arthur says.
"Jesus," Eames says sympathetically. Cobb places a warm hand on Arthur's shoulder briefly.
Arthur has no love for Havoc, but there is a certain kind of bond between even villains and heroes, when both wear a mask.
And as much as Arthur wanted Havoc caught, he hadn't wanted him dead.
"I only just saw him a few days ago, at the bank. . ." Arthur trails off, shaking his head. Unjust as this is, Havoc isn't a man for him to mourn, and they don't have the time for Arthur's own guilt.
"Second National?" Saito says thoughtfully, watching the TV. "Funny. Proclus Global has several accounts there."
"Really?" Eames asks. He leans forward on his seat, leather crinkling beneath him, hands sliding down the tops of his thighs to cup his knees. "At the risk of sounding unduly paranoid, that sounds a bit too much like a coincidence to me. And I've not a big believer in coincidences, unless they involve happening to have both handcuffs and whip cream on hand at the same time. First someone tries to rob your bank, then then somebody else tries to kill you? Mr. Saito, you're having a bad week."
"It's not bad until I start losing money, Magnificent Man," Saito says calmly. "Keeping myself alive is just routine."
"That said," Cobb says, "And as much as it pains me to say this, Magnificent is right. What kind of accounts do you have with Second National?"
"Predominantly safety deposit boxes. We have a long-standing arrangement with Second National in securing our west coast material assets. The security system for their vault remains one of the most advanced in the country," Saito says.
"Material assets?" Arthur asks. "Such as?"
"The intricacies of my company's funds remain a confidential matter, Vindicate, even in these pressing circumstances--" Saito says.
"Diamonds," Eames interjects. "I'd guess the bloody kind. Bullion, maybe. Deeds. All the usual things, I'm sure, Mr. Saito, but never mind that, we're not interested in whatever hot commodities you've got locked away -- I'm thinking we're looking for something a bit more unusual."
"Yes, I was getting to that. Despite my inability to reveal details regarding the majority of my assets," he shoots Eames a pointed look. "We have also been storing something at Second National a bit more relevant to the matter at hand. Worth less to the casual on-looker, but no doubt the initial target of Havoc's robbery attempt -- as of late, we have been keeping blueprints at the bank."
"Damn," Cobb says. "For your little weapon?"
"Indeed," Mr. Saito says.
"Well, fuck me with a ladle," Eames whistles.
Cobb shudders.
"Havoc's a couple shots short of an macchiato," Arthur says. "Or, well, he was. By the time I got inside the bank, he was asking for money, not anything in the safety deposit boxes. But if the security system is as good as you say, I can see him panicking and trying to make a quick buck instead. But world domination isn't exactly the kind of plan he'd come up with on his own."
"Oh, fuck," Eames says. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"
"The Executive had to have put him up to it. The head of the Legion of Tomorrow is working with people from COBOL," Arthur confirms.
Even beneath the mask, Arthur can see Eames's revulsion. Even Saito looks appalled. He gets it, the words stick to his tongue like grime.
". . .Would this be an inopportune time to say I told you so?" Cobb asks.
"Yes," Arthur says. "It really would."
"Too bad. I told you Legion was bad news! And now, look, apparently your boss is in cahoots with the largest organization of supervillains in the world. Jesus Christ, Vinny, we are fucked."
"Proper fucked," Eames agrees, resting the edge of his jaw on one hand with a sigh.
"I told you, Fox, I didn't have any other choice!"
"No!" Cobb snaps. "Don't give me that. Don't you dare. All those years ago, Fennec, we made a choice. Everyday, we made a choice. We chose to stand. We chose to be heroes. We chose to keep fighting, even when the people we were fighting for turned their backs on us. We chose to do good. We tried to fix this city of ours instead of trying to break her any further. We could've used our strength and our skill to shoot up streets or rob banks or kill people. We could've joined COBOL. We could've become villains. But we didn't. Over and over again, we chose to be good, Fennec. And if there's one thing in all those years I hope to god I taught you, it's that we always have a choice."
Arthur closes his eyes. He can hear his own blood rushing in his ears, like a great empty ocean. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
"I know," Cobb says sympathetically. "I know, Vindicate. And that's why I know you're not going to stop until you've fixed this. That's what heroes do."
"Do you think, Fox, that after everything I've done for the Executive, I'm still a hero?" Arthur asks tiredly.
"Oh, Vindicate," Eames says before Cobb can respond. He reaches over the table, grabs Arthur's hand lightly in his own calloused grip. "It's not something you are. It's is something you do."
Arthur looks at their hands, wrapped together firm and sure. He glances up at Eames and, after a moment, he smiles.
"Well then. Let's go and be heroes."
Eames squeezes his hand once, tightly, before letting him go.
Arthur looks up. Cobb is nodding at him, and Arthur can't see his eyes but from the set of his jaw he knows they're filled with steel. Saito has his own mouth set in a grim line, ready to follow, and Arthur understands that, too. It's a kind of vengeance driving him, maybe -- but even that aside, people have a habit of following the primary colors. It's no wonder Saito's been so cooperative. You can't help but trust a superhero.
"All right then," Arthur says determinedly. "We sh--"
Bzzzzzz.
There is a gravelly buzz as Saito's phone vibrates on the coffee table. Saito apologizes and picks it up, and Arthur frowns. There is something there, something he's missing, something he's forgot. . .
"Shit," Arthur says. "Shit. Who have you talked to?"
Saito raises an eyebrow, glancing up from the screen. "Pardon?"
"Shit," Arthur says again, feeling like an idiot. Adrenaline filters rapidly through him. His shoulder twinges painfully. "The meeting. Fuck, your meeting with Fischer. The Executive knew about it."
"You look gorgeous in a skin-tight suit! Oh, I 'm sorry, I was under the impression we were randomly stating the obvious in a dramatic way. Yes, of course the Executive knew -- oh, Shit," Eames hisses, as he suddenly gets it. "You're thinking inside job?"
Cobb groans as he catches up, rubbing a hand against his temple. "Shit."
Arthur nods. "I was thinking it before I went out there, but oh fuck me, I forgot. Shit shit shit."
"In your defense, you were a touch distracted," Eames nods at his shoulder pointedly.
Arthur shakes his head angrily but doesn't say a word.
"I'm sorry?" Saito asks. "What are you saying? You think one of my men informed the head of the Legion of Tomorrow of my meeting with Mr. Fischer?"
Arthur nods again. "Yours or Fischer's. It's the only way the Executive could've known, isn't it?"
"I can assure you, knowledge of that evening was entrusted only to my closest men," Saito says disapprovingly. "And all of my personnel have the utmost loyalty to me."
"That's all well and good, Mr. Saito," Cobb says. "But Fen's right. Somehow Legion got a hold of it, and an inside man is the most likely case."
Saito's lips press together in a thin line.
"So, Mr. Saito. I ask again. Who have you talked to? What have you told them?" Arthur says.
Saito stares at him hard, and Arthur stares back, unblinking behind his mask.
Finally, Saito says, "I've spoken to several of my personal advisers, letting them know that I am still alive and at a safe location."
"Did you tell them where?" Eames presses.
Saito shakes his head. "No. I did not."
Arthur can hear all three of them give a short sigh of relief.
"But," Saito says, with a touch of regret. "They'll be able to track my phone."
There is another tense pause. Zero whines lowly at his feet, sensitive to the current of emotion running through the room.
"Here," Eames says suddenly, stretching his hand out, palm up, to Saito, curling his fingers eagerly in the universal gesture for give it here. "I have to work with tech guys all the time, I think I might've learned a thing or two that can help us."
Saito pulls his phone out and Eames gives a nod of thanks as he takes it. He slides it open, studying the screen intently and clicking a couple of buttons.
"Hmm," Eames says, nodding to himself. "Yeah. Nice. This thing have Tetris?"
"It--" Saito begins, and before he can finish Eames drops the phone to the ground and raises his foot.
STOMP STOMP STOMP.
"There," Eames says. "That should do it."
"What the hell?!" Saito says, eyes flashing.
"I thought you worked with tech people?" Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow. Eames shrugs.
"Pretentious twats. Never can get an understandable word out of them. At any rate, that should buy us some time."
"Is that your solution to everything?" Cobb asks drily. "Smash it?"
"Sometimes I prefer banging," Eames shoots back.
Saito is still gaping angrily and incredulously. Arthur shakes his head to clear his thoughts.
"Some time, yeah, but not forever," he says. "We need to get out of here."
Cobb sighs. He shoots Arthur a frustrated look. "I like this house."
"I know," Arthur says sympathetically.
"I really like this house. Great location. Open floor plan. The real estate agent called it ultramodern."
"Fox, I'm not blowing it up--"
"Oh, no, not like last time."
"Hey now, that was at least fifty percent Nightshade's fault. Possibly sixty."
"You were a bad influence on her."
"Me?!"
"Ahem," Eames says. "We were fleeing."
"Right."
"Of course."
"Well then," Cobb says, rubbing his palms together a little too eagerly for Arthur's liking. Even with the mask on, Arthur knows him well enough to know he has that slightly manic look in his eyes, the one that heralds some kind of ass-kicking. He stands up, and Arthur can't help but stand with him. "Let's suit u--"
"Um, Fox?" Arthur says, shifting on his feet. "Legion's probably got sepia-tinted wanted posters for us up in all the post offices by now. We go out there in suits and we'll be taken down before you can say menace to society."
Fox sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Vindicate."
"Yes, Fox?"
"I like saying the "suit up!" bit."
Arthur sympathizes. "I know."
Fox sighs again, resigned. "All right, fine. So what's the plan?"
"We should split up," Eames says.
Arthur groans. Cobb shakes his head in undisguised disgust.
Glaring at Eames, Arthur demands, "Why'd you have to say that?"
"What?" Eames asks, confused.
"'Let's split up.' Come on. You ever see a movie where anything good happens after someone says, 'Let's split up?'" Arthur gripes.
"You've jinxed us," Cobb says mournfully.
"We're gonna go down like blonde sexpots in a horror film, now," Arthur sighs.
"You people are all crazy," Saito mumbles. "And you owe me a phone."
Fair enough. The "everybody trusts a hero thing" only goes so far, after all.
"Yes, well, my point stands," Eames says. "We should split up."
"As much as it pains me to say this, he's right," Arthur says. "Golden Fox, I'm assuming you've still got some safe houses from back in the day?"
"Wasn't that long ago," Cobb grumbles. "And, yeah."
"Great, why don't you take Saito here to one of them and lay low for a bit. Sound good?"
"I guess," Cobb says. "You good with that, Mr. Saito?"
"Yes," Saito says, nodding. "It seems like an adequate plan, for the moment."
"Peachy," Fox says. "I get to be stuck with the fucking tourist. Where are you headed, Fennec?"
"He's coming with me. That is, if you don't mind, love," Eames says, standing up and slinging an arm around Arthur's shoulder. "Vinny and I need to go have a chat with an old friend of mine."
"And where is this old friend of yours, Magnificent?" Arthur asks, carefully extricating himself out from under Eames's elbow, cheeks burning.
Eames grins. "You ever been to Mombasa?"
**