Varker stares at her, long and hard, eyes narrowing as his jaw sets.

"No." He sets his glass on the desk as calmly as he can, though there is a growling that is starting to fill the room, "If I'm doing anything, It's dragging Birkov to hell with me, and killing him myself. That's it. That's the end, and there is nothing else. Now if you would please change the subject before I lose my temper and this fucking thing decides it needs to attempt to strangle you, that would be appreciated. It has far less patience than I do."