Team 2: Jamie, Ruth, Betsy
Betsy, unfortunately, wasn't as well versed in psychic shielding as Ruth. When Jean screamed in her mind, Betsy had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming out loud. Her eyes were squeezed shut and it was through sheer force of will that she didn't double over, then curl on the floor in a fetal position.
She stood stock still with all her muscles tense for several seconds and had to be led around the corner by the dupe she'd been paired with. The Brit leaned against the wall and took a couple of cleansing breaths. She realized that he'd said something to her but her ears were still ringing. "Mmm?" He would, quite literally, have to repeat the question. She couldn't even appreciate his comical keycard fumble or endearing meekness: at the moment, it felt like her brain was going to leak out of her ears.
"'S this one," she murmured, completely dropping her fake American accent. She wasn't even using the 'BBC English' accent she normally adopted: her tone had slipped away to the more informal accent she used when drunk. She moved with effort towards the desired door. Even if she was a better trained telepath, Betsy would have had no chance of registering the presence of another psychic: her mental ears were still ringing, and anything that close to the other voice would be like putting a candle next to the sun.
She indicated the door they needed to enter and waited for Jamie to open it. The brass knuckles were held in one hand and she did have a tranq dart handy in case they met more opposition. She really hoped they wouldn't, though.