He spares a glace at Natasha standing calmy at Diya's side, but otherwise ignores her. This has nothing to do with her.

Insult rises at being regarded as nothing more than a lowly pest. He's barely hanging onto the last thread of his temper as his hand snaps forward, closing around Diya's wrist.

"No. I'm not waiting any longer; we will speak right now." Tarn's tone is biting as he tugs her closer. "You will give me the gene therapy treatment. I am through with playing these games with you."