Gerry chuckled when the woman who might have been a vampire joked about his tantrum, "You're a sick fuck, you know that?" he replied, shaking his head, "I don't drink." he added when she invited him to join her. Drinking altered the mind, resulted in a state that could not be called operational readiness. It didn't help that he'd been sober for a year now, after a battle with alcoholism. The Taliban could do that sort of thing to a person. And times like these were tempting, but the operator refused to give in. His determination was what made him so good, he wasn't going to lose everything over something that would not calm his nerves anyway.

"Nice to meet you Liz." Gerry added after a moment, "You can call me Gerry. You don't look too high-speed, but I suppose if you're still alive, you can't be too bad." he smirked and took a seat, holding out his hand for his new partner to shake. If she ripped his arm off, he'd pump her full of lead so fast he wouldn't be too worried about repercussions. Even off-hand Gerald was convinced he was the very best. He gave the director a moment to clear out, figuring the man didn't need to hear the results of this interview, and if he did, well, the man had to understand. Field agents tended not to fuck around, and this sort of thing was important.

"So... Let's say... We're on a mission, and someone gets lit up. This person, they're like... The objective, let's say. But we lit them up, and now they're dead. What's your next move..." Gerry raised an eyebrow, interested to see what the vampire had to say. He was ready to walk away if she said anything about calling it in, and hoping she'd say something, anything, that wasn't that. While the director probably wouldn't be impressed if he was listening to all this, that man had to understand better that most how this sort of thing had to go. It was the team first, always...