Their eyes met, and the atmosphere turned awkward.
At least, that was how she felt—especially with his dark eyes sizing her up with open amusement. It made her feel underestimated. No, she couldn't afford to be underestimated. She was—
"Batgirl?" Jack Kadere said, leisurely.
The word cut off her attempt to steady herself. What came next nearly made her explode.
"You're not paralyzed yet?"
Paralyzed? Was he cursing her? Batgirl's fury spiked. Did this guy always say such infuriating things? No—thinking about how he'd deliberately ignored her call, this bastard was just as infuriating without speaking.
"Catwoman, Harley Quinn, Batgirl. Gotham's full of surprises." Jack chuckled to himself and lunged.
Batgirl hadn't expected the sudden attack. She retreated instinctively, trying to dodge, but felt a chill brush her face. Her hand flew up. The mask was gone.
She attacked in a rage. Jack laughed, holding the mask, his body moving like a wildcat as he slipped past every strike. Leaping, shifting, turning, yielding—nothing connected. She knew he was agile; that was why she'd come looking for him in the first place. But this was maddening. She threw everything she'd learned at him, vicious and precise.
Useless. What good was skill if you couldn't land a hit?
Batgirl's technique was richer than Catwoman's, but her practical experience fell short. In stamina, speed, and agility, she lagged even further behind.
Then Jack's style shifted. He stopped dodging and met her head-on.
The change overwhelmed her immediately. She recognized the same moves—her moves—but his power, speed, and timing far exceeded hers. She couldn't block from left or right. Her stamina drained. Offense became defense. His assault intensified like a storm, and she realized that even sparring with Batman had never felt like this.
Not good.
His punching speed surged. She'd just adapted to the rhythm when her guard shattered. Pain exploded through her lower abdomen—like being hit by a car. She doubled over with a muffled groan and dropped to her knees.
"I've hit Catwoman. Shot Harley Quinn." Jack smiled and bent down, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her head up. Her eyes were wet, her expression pitiful. That punch had hurt. "Seems unfair to them if I don't hit you too."
"Batman's mysterious routine doesn't suit you. Phone booths? What is this, Resident Evil? Save that for when you're in a wheelchair." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Or should I put you there now? Then you can try again. It'd fit better."
Barbara had been seething with humiliation, but now she shivered. He was smiling like it was a joke, but the fear rose unbidden. He would do it. She knew he would.
"Relax. I'd only paralyze you." His smile brightened. "At least I wouldn't take nude photos."
She gritted her teeth and forced her body to stop trembling.
"Not interested?" Jack pouted, released her hair, and straightened. He leaned against the wall and spun her mask on one finger. "Daughter of the police commissioner. Batman's apprentice. Barbara Gordon. What do you want from me?"
"You—" She swallowed. "What's your name?"
"Jack Kadere."
"Jack Kadere." Barbara committed it to memory and pushed herself upright.
Gotham had fallen. Batman was missing. Barbara Gordon—Batgirl, not even fully trained—wanted to do something. She'd hacked satellites, searching for Batman or the nuclear reactor, and found nothing. What she found instead was Jack Kadere.
Pinpoint marksmanship.
An uncanny ability to dodge bullets.
His indiscriminate killing unsettled her, but she needed help.
The police archives had nothing on him. Batman's criminal database had nothing on him. So she'd decided to approach him first and assess him for herself.
The plan had been solid. It fell apart from the start. First he ignored her call, forcing her to reveal herself. Then he exposed her identity. Then he attacked and beat her.
Now she doubted everything. Had it been right to seek his help? Would he even agree?
She watched the mask spinning on his fingertip. Then her hand darted to her utility belt, pulled a smoke pellet, and hurled it to the ground.
Smoke billowed through the alley.
Barbara raised her arm, aimed at the rooftop, and fired. The grappling hook caught. She shot upward and vanished.
"That annoying Bat-family habit." Jack watched the smoke drift. "Just leave. Why throw a smoke bomb? What a waste."
He tucked the mask into his coat and strolled out of the alley.