Blake had considered putting a short burst into her when she slammed him up against the wall. Only years of discipline prevented it. He let her rant, keeping his peripheral vision open for any other signs of movement. Thankfully there was none, so she got to live a little longer.<br/><br/><em>Idiot civilian.</em>he thought.<em>Hasn't the first damn clue, does she? You want to run in there like Rambo, be my guest.</em>He gave his head a small shake and let her get far enough ahead that a single burst on her wouldn't end up catching him as well.<br/><br/>He flipped the sensors on his gun over to thermographic overlay, and panned the thin metal wall surrounding the door. A single figure was painted, crouched about 2 yards back from the door, on the side that would be shielded by the door itself. He drew one pistol, popping the clip and replacing it with one containing AP rounds. He paused next to the spot where the Renfield was crouched, and calmly put a double tap through into its head. The muted cough of the silencer would likely draw his newfound companions attention, but he made sure the one inside was down before he turned his attention back to her.<br/><br/>"Clear."