Despite the commotion, she’s remained silent, but shooting Jackson again clearly took her by surprise as well. I can see her thinking… assessing her situation, trying her restraints, looking around the room, and finally coming to the realization that she’s screwed. She relaxes back in her chair and looks at me, clearly opting for a different approach to her situation, just like I would. “I can’t believe you hit a woman,” she says, eventually. She doesn’t sound pissed off—well, no more than anyone else would be after they’d been elbowed in the face. I think she’s toying with me, seeing what reaction she can get. I know the tactic very well. “Yeah, sorry about that,” I say, before stopping myself from apologizing further. “Actually, I’m not—you had a gun on me so you deserved everything you got.” “I only had a gun you because you were going to try to kill the guy I’m supposed to protect.” “Well, I was only going to kill him because he screwed a gangster out of millions of dollars.”
