The bodies scattered around the parking lot were not a pretty picture. You didn't seem to care though, at least the way you were spinning around on her office swivel chair all freely implied such.

"Self defence?"

Maria gritted, looking up from her binder, outraged.

"You were on a recon mission in the Middle East looking for information on an agent. How did a sniper become self defence?"

The way you talked so cavalierly, so flippantly of the incident — like you were proud of it, remorseless, even? It drove her wild. But the job wasn't worth the heart attack that'd come from you alone, and really, both of you knew that this wouldn't be the last time you were having a chat of such nature.

Deciding to put her foot down, Maria tossed the files aside, stalking over to your chair and standing above you.

"You promised me you would stop. I trusted you,"

she whispered, holding the armrests firmly of the seat, right in your face. Waiting for an explanation, or hell, an apology.