Arthur took the moment to shut the door behind him and lock it before answering the question. "Our god damn extractor double crossed the team. The mark didn't take kindly - and who the fuck would - and got his buddies to try and take everyone out," he said, looking at the forger. He hated that he had left Eames in a panic but he felt the man had a right to know. It hadn't even crossed his mind that he wouldn't tell him - not after all they've been through.

"Just bad enough that I won't be visiting France for at least... a year? Two at most," he growled in frustration, his hand moving to his side where the wound was. "We'll have to burn the Brendan Samson front. Which is a damn shame, I liked that apartment." It was too risky leaving it up to chance.

He paused a moment. "I do need your help though. I didn't get a chance..." He hadn't even mentioned it in the text to Eames because honestly? How do you say something like that through text? Arthur exhaled a breath, shaky at best and lifted the shirt up to show him the wound which was angry looking.