It takes a few seconds for Briggs to register that it's Mike. He's not quite on top of his game as far as concentration goes. Relief washes over him and he lowers the gun. "Mike. What the f--" He cuts off that train of thought. This is worse than he thought.

He scrubs a hand over his face. "Okay. Yeah." He's trying to focus but whatever was done to him is making it difficult. Everything is too sensitive, his own damn clothes are a distraction. He just tries to ignore the fact he has an impossible hard-on. Escaping is more important.

Focus. "What do you know about this place?"