"Oh, no, definitely not an agent." The sudden mental image of Sammy dressed up in military gear, all plain and business-like, makes him suppress a laugh at the table -- she with her makeup and nails and carefully-applied red lipstick. "My DoR partner's a woman named Kay. Karen. You should meet her, too. But Sammy works in..."
What's a tactful way of saying biohazard cleanup? That she scrubs out gore and viscera because she isn't professionally qualified for anything better, and fucking hates it, and he knows how much she hates it? Not everyone's able to settle into a job that suits them post-apocalypse. Not everyone has the skillsets to fit this new life, like cramming themselves into an ill-adjusted suit.
"She cleans up after the medical teams. It ain't her favourite thing under the sun, so I wouldn't advise asking her much about it. But you two, what are you doing at the Capitol anyway? Nate, I know you're back to makin' documentaries."