The City? Aeon's face remained carefully blank, but a small amount of recognition slid behind her eyes. She really didn't want to be the City's errand girl. Her services, however, were bought and paid for, already. And what was she?
She remembered giving the words back to Handler in anger: I'm a Monican. She knew where those words had gotten her, every time. And suddenly Aeon really would have liked to see Dean Winchester appear in this picture to talk her out of this.
Aeon nodded, half-expecting Handler to pop into her head now and tell her to squeeze the trigger. It didn't happen.
She raised the gun again on her own and sighted the shot without apology.