And with that, finally, Major manages to crack his cool with only the slightest of tells- a visible scrutinizing narrowing of the eyes. Probably... not a good thing to listen to that Russian voice in his head helpfully suggesting he could probably snap that guy's neck in about three moves. Nope, yeah, that's terrible, he's truly a terrible person.

But he totally could.

Shut up.

It'd be so tragic, they'd have to have another funeral, Liv would never talk to him again...

He sighs internally, fights back the desire to roll his eyes to the sky. Dear Catholic God, please give him the strength and the serenity and whatever else it is you give people who don't want to murder their girlfriend's exes in stressful situations. That's probably a common prayer, right? It's gotta come up from time to time. Give him a healthy dose of whatever that is.

And don't let him reply some more recently than others to Liv's declaration. It's a struggle, but he stamps it down.

Compartmentalize. Focus on the mission.

"Six distress signals, and the rescue team's already left. Steve, Clint, and Tash are searching the bunker. It's not so much about finding or fighting now, it's just recovery." He supplies helpfully, switching kindly to Mission Mode. "So far, no reports of anything dangerous. No trap doors leading to sketchy torture dungeons, no villains lurking in the dark, nothing. Doesn't mean there won't be a cave-in eventually or something, but..."

He gestures to his pickaxe, hanging loosely from his satchel. "We're fine if it comes to that."

And... then maybe a sidelong glance at Major. "And if we get cold, I guess he brought blankets or something."