Reality hit Laurie hard enough to wake her up. The man in front of her was definitely not someone she could handle alone.
She needed help.
Turning to pick up her coat, she walked tentatively toward what she guessed was the doorway.
"Show her out," Jack said to Lilah.
Lilah led her away.
The journey out surprised Laurie—she appeared to be on a ship. Even more startling, when she stepped off and turned to look back, the ship had vanished.
She reached out instinctively.
Nothing visible. The scenery behind it looked identical to everything else around her. But her hand touched solid metal.
She stood there for a long moment, processing, then turned and left.
With Doctor Manhattan absent, Jack had no interest in learning about other Watchmen members. Laurie had the standard package—large breasts, narrow waist, round hips, long legs—but she still didn't compare to Lilah, and he wasn't looking to swap out his current arrangement.
When Lilah returned, Jack piloted the Aerie slowly upward into the sky.
His departure meant nothing to him, but it would take Laurie—scrambling to find other Watchmen for help—a very long time to see him again.
---
Moscow. Bolshoi Theatre.
A renowned ballet company was performing tonight.
In a private box, Soviet scientist Valentina Vostok sat on a leather sofa, sipping red wine while waiting for the show to begin. She wore a red evening gown, her dark hair pinned up in an elegant bun, her makeup immaculate. But her eyes carried a trace of helplessness and anxiety.
Another failure.
The Firestorm matrix research had hit a wall again. She felt she'd nearly grasped it—one step from breaking through—but that final step kept her stranded at the threshold.
What am I missing?
She shook her head, drained her glass, and tried to focus on the upcoming performance.
Three sharp knocks.
"Come in," she called without looking.
The door opened.
A man with distinctly Asian features walked in smiling, dragging someone behind him.
Valentina recognized the unconscious figure. Her driver.
"You—"
She started to rise, but the stranger tossed the driver aside casually and entered with a striking young woman at his side.
"Hello, Miss Valentina." Jack smiled and settled onto the opposite end of the sofa, glancing at the wine bottle on the table. "Drinking alone? How boring. Mind if I join you?"
Valentina hesitated for a beat, then smiled. "Alright."
Before Jack could reach for the bottle, Lilah stepped forward and poured two glasses.
"Cheers."
"Cheers."
They touched glasses and sipped. Jack set his down. "I admire your composure. Most people would be screaming by now. So I've decided to make this evening as pleasant as possible for you."
"Should I say thank you?"
"You should," he said modestly. "Have you ever heard of time travel?"
Valentina's expression flickered.
"Ah, you have. Did Vandal Savage tell you? Good—saves me the explanation. I'd rather save my breath for more interesting uses." Jack's grin widened.
Valentina frowned. "Your flirting needs work."
"I'm usually more direct. Let me get to the point." He leaned back. "I have a passing interest in the Firestorm matrix. I want you to teach me everything you know about it. In return, I'll help you become Firestorm—and give you a one-way ticket through time. Past, future, any point you want."
"Why should I believe you?"
"You already do, don't you?"
Jack gestured for Lilah to refill his glass, then pulled her into his lap with his free arm. He turned his attention to the stage below, where the ballet had begun.
The performance started, but Valentina didn't watch it.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the strange man holding another woman while drinking wine, turning his proposal over in her mind.
Her entire purpose in pursuing this research was to help her country defeat the United States. If he really was a time traveler—if he really could help her become Firestorm—it might be worth the gamble.
Whether he was lying? She was confident she could figure that out.
She raised her glass with a charming smile. "Holding another woman in front of a woman isn't very gentlemanly."
"Doesn't matter. I've done worse." Jack clinked his glass against hers without looking away from the stage.
Glass by glass, topic by topic.
They talked about everything—starting with the ballet, drifting wherever conversation took them. At first Valentina was fishing for information, but gradually she forgot her purpose. Not because she'd lowered her guard. Not because Jack was particularly charming. But because the things he said—offhand comments about the future, casual references to events that hadn't happened—felt true.
"You're saying this place becomes one of the top ten theaters in the world?" Valentina laughed. "Maybe I should rent this box for longer. Or buy it outright."
"Why not buy the whole theater?"
She paused, then smiled. "You're right. Maybe I should."
The two-hour performance ended with applause.
Valentina stood, crossed to the wall, and took down her coat. Slipping it on, she turned to Jack. "I accept your proposal. When do we start?"
"Why not now? I don't have anywhere to stay in this era, and I assume you wouldn't mind the company."
She bent down and retrieved the keys from her unconscious driver's pocket, then looked up at Jack. "Can you drive?"
"With pleasure, beautiful lady." He performed an exaggerated gentleman's bow.
Valentina smiled and took his arm.
They left the theater and found her car. Jack took the wheel, Lilah sat nervously in the passenger seat, and Valentina settled into the back to give directions.
The car pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the Moscow night.
Jack had never been much of a student—not the type who studied diligently or improved day by day. Seeking out Valentina to learn about the Firestorm matrix was really just selecting the tallest dwarf in the room, a reluctant compromise born of mild interest. Still, Firestorm's ability was genuinely useful: transmuting the atomic structure of matter, turning lead into gold. Having that power meant having a money printer.
Not that he'd ever worried about money.