Looking directly at Austin, Angela barely maintains control of her temper as she says, "Listen, cowboy, I don't know who you are or what you're doing here. I don't even know what I'm doing here. What I do know is that this cloak and dagger crap is starting to really get on my nerves, and then here you are making all friendly while we wait for some spook or whatever to come and tell us some veiled and vague explanation of what we're doing here. If I come off as a bit guarded, it's because I don't know a damned thing about any of this or what they want me for. Now frankly you can call me whatever you like, just don't expect to get too familiar with me, and if you can't get my name right then don't expect me to pay you half a cent's attention. It's not Angelica or Angeline or Andrea. It's Angela Cole, and if you can't keep that much in your testosterone fried cranium and you are such a commie that acknowledging a soldier's rank is somehow beneath you, then you may call me Miss Cole. Is that okay with you? If not, deal with it. I ain't here to make friends."
She looks deliberately away from Austin, stealing a brief glance back at him before fixing her gaze on the door of the elevator.