Ok, you know what? FUCK DIPLOMACY, BECAUSE THAT SHIT ISN'T WORKING. He tried to be nice to her and give her the option to walk away. He didn't want to kill a woman that didn't involve him being in a bloodlust. It felt wrong to some degree, especially when it really wasn't need. He had his toys and now all he had to do was go, preferably without this little bitch fucking his shit up. Thankfully, the air grenade was enough to throw and interesting mix onto the table. Graham made a mental note to ask Nikita for more of those things, because damn. The small tornado began to circulate around the room, still throw up random crates and launching them at random locations, keeping Graham on his feet. There was no time to stop and think, even if it meant reloading his gun. His hand was already injured and killing like a bitch and he preferred not to be a sitting duck for even two seconds for this woman.
Though then she mentioned him being being on the news and he couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't even out of pure amusement - it was nothing but sheer, psychotic madness. The type of laugh that made the Joker look sane. It echoed throughout the warehouse as he shadow jumped a few feet here and there to avoid crates, eventually slowing down to jump on top of a wobbly one. "Really?! You think people will honestly give a shit over THAT?! You're a piss poor anchorwoman if you think that'll be your headline story for tomorrow. I've done worse shit than that, miss." With a twisted sneer on his lips, eyes narrowing onto where he thought she was hiding, taking the bullet's fire into consideration, and fired a couple more rounds. "Why don't I give you something to really talk about in the morning, hmm?" Graham pulled out another grenade, this one coated in red and orange, indicating it was enchanted with fire elemental blood. If a regular grenade was intense, he couldn't imagine what this one would be like. Still smirking widely, he jumped off of the crate and let it fly off in the wind and crash to the floor while tossing the grenade in his hand casually, waiting for reply.