He nodded, knowing that Arthur would have even left until things were handled. He wouldn't trust many others to take care of things for him, after all, and Eames couldn't blame him.

Grabbing the whiskey off the bar, not bothering with glasses as he headed for the bathroom even as he pulled out a burner phone.

"Franc? Hey, it's Tony," he said, easily slipping into a slight French accent as if he had been practicing his American for a while. "I'm going to text you an address. I need it be flambe'd. Yes. Oui. Yes. Stop that," he said, all flirt and tease. "You make me blush. Oui. Soon."

He handed the phone to Arthur. "Send the coordinates to the number I just called and the pull the card," he said, setting the bottle down beside him.

"If you puke on me, I'll cry," he added, trying to make him laugh. The world had gone to hell. Arthur needed humor.