"Grab and run—how thrilling!"
Jack Kadere glanced back at the mob shouting threats and charging after him, the woman slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He vaulted clean over a police cruiser that had just screeched to a halt, leaving the officers scrambling out in confusion. By the time they recovered, he'd already ducked into the same alley he'd emerged from minutes earlier.
Then his body shot straight up.
He still couldn't fly, but after copying Diana's abilities, this kind of height was nothing.
The pursuers panted into the alley moments later—and stopped dead.
A dead end.
Where the hell did he go?
They stared at each other, slack-jawed and clueless.
Lilah, who'd followed the crowd, quietly peeled off and circled around to the adjacent building. She climbed to the rooftop and hurried toward the empty patch of air where Aerie sat cloaked. To anyone else it looked like nothing, but her hand met solid hull. She exhaled and the cabin door slid open. She ducked inside.
"You're back."
Jack had the woman tied to a chair with the Lasso of Truth. He glanced over his shoulder as Lilah entered.
"Master, you..." She didn't even know where to start.
"Running's good for you. Keeps you in shape." He grinned. "Get too fat and I won't want you anymore."
"I... understood." Lilah blinked, then nodded.
She genuinely didn't know what would happen if he stopped wanting her. Would he send her back to her original time to resume her original fate? Or just kill her? After all, no one liked handing off their private belongings to someone else—even the ones they'd discarded.
A groan escaped the unconscious woman. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to alarm, and she thrashed against the bindings.
"Let me go, you bastard!"
"Relax. I'm not a bad guy." Jack smiled pleasantly.
If there'd been background music, she would have screamed at him: Don't lie to me—the background music changed the second you opened your mouth!
"What's your name?" His tone was gentle.
"Laurie... Laurel Jane Juspeczyk—what did you do to me? Why am I—" She stared in horror at the rope glowing golden around her wrists. The searing heat forced words out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"Silk Spectre II?" Jack asked.
"Yes... How do you know?" She felt like two people at once—answering and questioning in the same breath.
"Good. I found the right person."
Jack's smile widened.
The Watchmen had been a superhero team: Doctor Manhattan, Rorschach, Ozymandias, The Comedian, Nite Owl, and Silk Spectre. Laurie was the only woman among them, inheriting her mother's codename—a single splash of red in a sea of green.
"Where is Doctor Manhattan?"
Now that he'd confirmed her identity, he asked the only question that mattered.
"He... he left Earth. No one... no one knows where he is." The words spilled out against her will.
"When did he leave? Why weren't there any reports?"
"After he became Doctor Manhattan, he... he gained the ability to see the future. He knew that someday, someone would come looking for him—someone who'd use his abilities to bring disaster to the world. So he left ahead of time." Sweat dripped down her face. She was practically grinding her teeth to get the words out. "That person... that's you, isn't it?"
Jack frowned.
Precognition was indeed among Doctor Manhattan's extensive list of abilities. It wasn't particularly rare—Gideon on the Waverider could calculate future outcomes, and the Time Masters did something similar. But they only identified deviations after they occurred. Manhattan's foresight was stronger: he predicted deviations before they happened.
Always one step ahead.
They'd arrived with high hopes and left empty-handed. Doctor Manhattan had abandoned Earth in advance—because of him. No wonder there'd been no trace of the man anywhere.
Jack had even entertained the idea of arranging a meeting between Manhattan and the Soviet Firestorm, maybe letting the good doctor snap his fingers and vaporize the nuclear threat. After all, Manhattan's stated wish was world peace. But now? Pointless. Who knew where he'd gone after leaving Earth? Mars, like in the movie? If he could leave before Jack arrived, he could leave Mars just as easily.
Jack withdrew the Lasso of Truth and waved dismissively. "You can go."
Laurie had a temper. The moment she was free, she launched a kick straight at his head.
You tell me to leave and I'll just leave?
Setting aside the kidnapping, the mere possibility that this man was connected to Manhattan's disappearance made walking away impossible.
Snap.
Her black stiletto connected with his forearm. Jack caught her ankle mid-motion and tossed her aside like she weighed nothing.
Thud.
Laurie hit the floor hard, grunting on impact. She stared up at him from several meters away, his expression utterly indifferent.
This guy is strong.
"Who the hell are you?" She rose cautiously, settling into a fighting stance.
"Questions, questions. Even if I told you, you wouldn't know me." Jack sounded bored. "You can't achieve everything you hope to achieve—so just do everything you can."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She squinted, thrown by the riddle.
"You can't beat me. Get lost." He translated flatly.
Silence.
Laurie's jaw tightened. She unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it off in one motion.
Jack glanced at her sidelong. "What, you want to fight me shirtless?"
Shirtless... fight me...
Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she closed the distance in an instant.
Laurie had trained in hand-to-hand combat since childhood under her mother's instruction, and years of Watchmen missions had honed those skills further. She was confident she could hold her own against anyone.
But she'd never faced someone who could sit there—sit there—and block every strike with one hand, looking casual and faintly annoyed the entire time.
Thwack.
Another attack. No result.
She stepped back, glaring at him with a mix of frustration and wounded pride.
"Do you know what life is?" Jack asked suddenly.
Before she could answer, he did it himself.
"Life is one slap after another—slapping people awake."
He tilted his head.
"Are you awake yet?"