Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.
"Let me get this straight." Arthur looked at Cobb, shaking his head. "The Mark is already in jail? We have to extract from someone who is already facing criminal prosecution?"
"No," Cobb retorted, his tone patient. "He's currently in a holding cell, pending the investigation into a lethal computer virus that was believed to have stemmed from his software."
"Software in his bedroom," Arthur said, almost disgusted.
"No," Cobb nearly snapped. "Software he designed. Arthur, this guy is one of the biggest rising computer stars in the world. But, he has an agenda."
"Right." Arthur nodded. "And who wants him investigated?"
"And why does she want us to do that?"
"Because she has suspicions," Eames chipped in. He was settling himself into a chair, and sat facing the two other men. "She apparently overheard phone calls he was making, and also intercepted emails."
"About what?" Arthur shook his head. "Marital disharmony? Send them to relate."
"About links to potential terrorist cells." Cobb's calm tone rebuffed Arthur's sarcasm. "She fears that he's using his influence to contact extreme right-wingers."
"Remember the Oklahoma bombing, 1995?"
Arthur blinked, and frowned. "I was 14. But, yes, I do. It was shocking." He swallowed, and looked at the two other men. "But, the man who we need to investigate is-" he flipped through a file - "Kris Alleyn. Born in America, but with a Norwiegian mother - hence the first name spelling. Graduated Summa Cum Laude from the University of California, in Robotics and Computer Science." He looked more closely at the print. "Apparently worked for several computer companies before setting up his own. Arrested on 17 July, 2012."
"Why is he still in holding?"
"His ex refused to release money to pay bail," Cobb informed Eames. "But, think about it - a computer genius, who has suspected terrorist links-"
"Why not leave this in the hands of the police? Or the FBI?" Arthur interrupted. "Don't you think this could be a little too dangerous?"
Eames looked at him. "Dangerous?"
"For potential exposure," Arthur argued. "We deal with corporate espionage - this is something else. This could lead us to becoming involved in Government-"
"Arthur, we can handle this!" Cobb sounded exasperated. "Come on!"
"No, you think we can handle this," Arthur countered. "I would just prefer to be cautious."
Cobb looked at him. "Arthur. The mark is in jail. We only need to extract what we've been requested. Then, we get paid, and that's it."
"Oh, I see." Arthur pulled a face. "Money."
"Arthur. Someone who wears designer suits lecturing about money..." Eames let his voice trail off, as Arthur turned, glaring at him.
"What about Ariadne? Doesn't it occur to you that this could put her in danger?" he argued. "This isn't - from what you just said - a normal computer hacker. Someone who can design his own viruses-"
"All Ariadne has to do is design the dream, you know that!" Cobb looked exasperated. "Arthur, come on, this isn't like you!"
"I'm just thinking of the team, all right? Someone has to."
"Arthur-" Cobb clicked his tongue. "We could really do this. Think about it. With your background in military intelligence, this case we could crack-"
"But what do we do with the information?" Eames interjected. "We can't trust his ex with it."
"Cobb, this case is based on a lie," Arthur stated, shaking his head. "We can't trust his ex-wife. Who knows what her motives are?"
"He's been arrested!"
"Yes, but I haven't found a reason for-" Arthur shook his head. "Look, I need some fresh air, ok?"
He reached for his jacket, pulling it on hurriedly, and started to head for the door. Eames and Cobb exchanged glances, taken aback.
Arthur hurried down the stairs, feeling his anger build. He couldn't let them walk blindly into this case - Cobb clearly trusted the word of a woman who had her own agenda. Shrugging furiously, he walked out onto the pavement.
His irritation meant he did not notice the cycle courier who suddenly came out of nowhere, hitting him and dragging him off the pavement. All he was aware of was a deep, screaming pain in his legs.
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