Perhaps if she hadn't been drinking she would have been a little less likely to follow through, Perhaps. But she really wasn't that drunk; it was just that Warrington was annoyingly good at pressing buttons and he'd pretty much mashed them all by now.
"I lived through and fought in a fucking war, Warrington. I'm not afraid of you or your consequences." And before she thought the action through, Angelina hauled off and swung, aiming right for his face, jaw preferably. Maybe it'd wipe that smug look right off it.
She didn't go to slap or scratch. She punched with a closed fist, and put power behind her swing.