Micah rolls back to their feet with a little breath, trying to take stock of her apparent rescuer with fresh eyes. This could still be a trick, or worse yet, not a rescue, but a hijacking.

"Yes, well -- " The man in Eames's grip struggles fiercely once more before going limp. Micah winces. "They said they didn't want the merchandise getting damaged, or something to that effect. Besides, they hadn't quite gotten to the extraction stage yet."

They edge out of the cell, eyes still on the unconscious man as though paranoid that he much lurch back to consciousness at any moment. They finally turn back to Eames, brow furrowed.

"Who are you really? I mean -- who sent you?"