The woman sounded upset, which kicked in his first-response reflexes to an upset person: "It's okay," he said a little awkwardly (it was always Sam who could comfort people; Michael wasn't the people person); "I'm pretty nervous myself, actually, I don't blame you for feeling nervous. It's not hard to be. If it helps you any," he paused, "I used to work for the government, Special Operations, and I still can't say I'm not freaked out a little over this. I don't think anyone actually knows where we are."

Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if telling an anxious person that a CIA operative was also anxious actually was going to be comforting, but: Sam, people person, Michael, thinking person, goddamn it. "If it makes you feel any better," he offered, "we're trying to get together some kind of ground-level law enforcement here and I'm not the only one looking for answers as to where we are and how to get out of here. If you need anything, feel free and let me know; I live in Speares. Where are you from? I was in Miami before I got here."