Hey, woah, "No need to dig into the insults," Mockingbird noted, not impressed with the assessment of her ability to lie or the guy's name-calling (as funny as Gestapo almost was, but she really kind of hoped she wouldn't get lumped in, too, as a 'blonde in a cat suit'. Not that she had earned herself an ally here, but she thought they might have had a fine rapport and she deserved a little more respect than that. Whatever they thought, Bobbi was sure she could take them both on, no problem).
She glanced back at the gathered bereft as well, not particularly dazzled by the guy's charming condescension either, as though she really needed his advice to beat a hasty retreat. Once the guns came out, she kind of got that. All of this underestimation was really bad for Mockingbird's confidence; this was officially the least spectacular debut of the season. Time to make the best of it. She shot the guy a sly grin and asked, "Got a direction in mind, too?" before tucking into a tumble that cut the distance between her and the Black Widow and back up into a violent arabesque that would catch the woman under the chin to disorient her while Mockingbird winked at her erstwhile adviser. Spinning and heading for the trees before the Widow could pull that gun out again and take aim, Bobbi vaulted forward to catch the lower of the two sturdy branches she thought looked remarkably close to uneven bars, blessed her gloves as the bark dragged across them and used the momentum to bounce to the higher and lift herself over. Dismount, clear the cemetery fence with a somersault, hit the pavement and end routine. Her coach would have been so proud. Now she really needed to catch a ride, preferably soon and fast before that agent caught up with her.