( Monica’s eyes go wide when the shot is fired, and she ducks to her knees to get out of the man’s range. Her gaze shifts briefly to Gilbert, but she doesn’t even wince in sympathy for the wound. She didn’t tell him to be there. He isn’t someone she’s directly responsible for. But this is her operation, and collateral damage grates on her nerves.
It takes about three seconds for her to get a gun in her hands from her crouched position. She aims not for the man’s head, but for his lower organs, with a grim smile. )
You idiot. You shoot one import—even with a pathetic shot like that—you shoot all of us. And you know that, don’t you? That’s why you’re running.
( Without taking her eyes or her gun off the mark, she speaks out of the side of her mouth to Gilbert. )
no subject
It takes about three seconds for her to get a gun in her hands from her crouched position. She aims not for the man’s head, but for his lower organs, with a grim smile. )
You idiot. You shoot one import—even with a pathetic shot like that—you shoot all of us. And you know that, don’t you? That’s why you’re running.
( Without taking her eyes or her gun off the mark, she speaks out of the side of her mouth to Gilbert. )
Get out of here. Go, before he shoots again.