When they were clear of the Hummer, past the corner of the house and heading towards the training barn, Alves dropped the polite act. There was something about her that just brought out an animal in him. He shoved her to the ground, sending her into the dirt and gravel path. "There are no 'seperate ways',<em>puta</em>," he spat. His face contorted into a sneer; It was an expression unlike the usually cool Alves Arroyo, but whenever he personally did the training, he could not believably be a passive trainer. There must be fear instilled, and working with the Colombian Military so many years ago, torture was usually his device, but he didn't want to mar the patients too much, so he had to resort to fear tactics.<br/><br/>"If you scream, I'll beat you like a stupid<em>perra</em>," he warned, flexing his fist tightly to emphasize his words. He climbed on top of her and sat lightly on her chest, not enough to crush her but enough to let her know that she wasn't getting up with him above her. His hand wrapped around her red hair, and tugged at her scalp. "Do you understand me bitch?"