She has very precise memories of the last five minutes before.
Walking up the stairs, gun beneath her jacket, ready to be drawn if necessary. It isn't.
Pushing open the door on the seventh floor. A thought about being glad she's worn sensible shoes for this one, thick sturdy boots that she learns later are the only reason she still has feet.
The gleaming red of the Exit sign, just before they step out into a yellow-painted hall, and their targets are not where they are supposed to be.
The moment of confusion, glancing at Aki, reaching for her earpiece to call Zed and find out just what the fuck is going on.
She hears his voice, his soft drawl, and then the explosions overtake everything, and she loses her balance, her earpiece, the connection, and Aki's body slams into Xu a split second later.
When she comes to, it is in a different, sterile room, and judging by the looks on the faces staring down at her, the results of their mission are not good at all.
"Tell me," she demands, even as her voice is muffled in her own ears, her throat feeling like it's been scraped out and left to dry in the Centran desert. Zed's face, the most familiar one in the bunch. Her eyes lock on his, because she trusts him to tell her the truth, even if he doesn't want to.
Aki, in the bed next to her, the room the only available one in the hospital that can be easily guarded. She stares at his bandages, the braces around his entire lower body, the things helping him breathe. The white wraps around her hands, up her arms, the stink of antiseptic and bleach and burnt skin.
It is easier to give into the sedatives that drag her back under than get the answers to her questions-- Xu doesn't go willingly, but she goes eventually.
