Mac was a second away from tapping her foot while she waited for his response. Mostly she was waiting for him to put his gun up, because this bastard was really testing her patience, what little she had to begin with. And she really didn't want to start something while his gun was still in pieces. She was bitch but she still had respect for weaponry.
When he stood up, Mac's jaw clenched ready for whatever he might do. Her stance was strong and straight and she returned his gaze head on. Savage may have been taller than her by a few inches, but he was still lower than dirt in her opinion.
Her eyes grew big when he finally said something. that motherfucker! Who the fuck does he think he is? Well, he was about to find out who she was. No one called her a name and just walked off. No one. Ever. Unless they had a death wish, which obviously this guy had. She had her .45 on her and her switch blade, but she wouldn't use those. Nothing taught a better lesson than straight hand-to-hand ass kicking.
Without warning or harsh verbal comeback, Mac lashed out, grabbing Savage's arm and turning him to face her, their eyes locking just before she swung, her fist making hard contact with his jaw. It was a beautiful hit, perfectly executed and wonderful sounding to Mac's ears. She may not have broke it with that one hit, but Savage was going to have a very lovely bruise in a few minutes, and most likely a bust lip.
"You don't fucking tell me what to do. Now get on guard duty," she yelled, pointing at the door.