Something in him--some dark, vengeful part of him--is tempted to pull the cap off after she breaks, to let the smell out into the room instead of just being in her head, but instead he forces himself to twist the cap closed, leaving the bottle on the table as police officers come in to restrain her.

He hurries out the door, only noticing his own hands trembling once he's outside the room, away from that one-way mirror and concrete walls that seem too close.

"You've got a location and a chopper standing by?" he asks, assuming the answer to both is "yes".