As he crept down the corridors, as quiet as he could while moving quickly, Mike kept an eye out for any guards. Someone to sneak up on. Take his weapons. His clothes. But he found none. That alone was suspicious. What kid of game was his captor playing? He was relieved, at least, that the sarcophagus was in fact not the source of his earlier problems. He couldn't imagine how Briggs was coping with it.

Seeing Briggs, Mike slows down. Even if he could be revived, he didn't want to be shot. As he emerged into the corridor ahead of Briggs, he made sure his hands were up, assuming he wouldn't be looking for familiar faces.

"We need to find a way out," Mike said, needing to get to the details as fast as possible. "He knows who you are. Who you really are."