Not the mother and daughter… but rather the Director of ARGUS or the true mastermind behind the Queeen's Gambit incident?
Was that even a real choice?
Dinah Lance, as an ARGUS field operative, understood perfectly well how impossible it was to assassinate Amanda Waller. Even if, by some miracle, she pulled it off, the full weight of the U.S. government and ARGUS itself would hunt her down like a fugitive.
On the other hand, while she didn't know the true identity of the mastermind behind the Queeen's Gambit disaster—nor what kind of power or reach they possessed—Dinah felt no hesitation in choosing to eliminate him. She could even leverage ARGUS resources afterward to cover her tracks.
"What if we don't choose either?" Dinah asked Jack Kadere coolly.
Jack simply spread his hands in silence, a smile playing on his lips.
But the implication was clear—if they didn't choose, he might kill them both right there.
Dinah inhaled slowly, her expression stiffening. "In that case… I'll choose the one responsible for my daughter's death. Give me his name, and I'll eliminate him within three days."
"Once you choose, there's no going back. Are you sure?" Jack asked, his tone devoid of sarcasm.
"I'm sure."
Jack's eyes slid over to Laurel. She looked pale, clearly reluctant, but she nodded all the same.
"Good girl," Jack said with a smirk, patting her cheek lightly. Then he turned to Dinah. "The target will be hers to deal with. You can leave."
"What?" Dinah's voice rose sharply. "She's not trained for this—she's just a civilian. You're sending her to die! Give me the name, I'll take care of it in her place. Just three days—"
"I don't care when he dies. I only care that it's by her hand," Jack interrupted. "And last I checked, I'm the villain here, not someone who plays fair."
Villain.
Dinah clenched her jaw. The word stung, because in this situation, Jack's twisted sense of logic felt almost… honest.
"You're welcome to keep an eye on her," Jack added, "but don't interfere. I won't hurt either of you… but I will kill Quentin Lance if I even suspect you helped her."
That hit like a hammer.
Dinah might have been willing to sacrifice herself—but Laurel would never put her father in danger. She'd reject any help if she thought it risked Quentin's life. She might even turn on Dinah herself out of fear of a misunderstanding.
Mother and daughter exchanged troubled glances, their expressions heavy.
"Come on now," Jack said with mock cheer, "no need to look so miserable. Think of it this way—if you can't help her, you can always come after me. Maybe you'll get lucky and land a shot."
He stepped back toward the exit.
"Or hey, run away. Maybe if you vanish long enough, I'll lose interest. Stranger things have happened."
He looked at them both seriously, and for a strange, surreal moment, it almost sounded like encouragement.
"I'm rooting for you."
Jack turned to Laurel and flashed her a grin. "I'll be in touch tomorrow."
With that, he disappeared into the shadows of the abandoned factory.
The moment he stepped out, the eerie electric snake that had been coiled around the building dissipated with a faint crackle. Darkness swallowed the interior, save for the narrow beam of a flickering flashlight that shone on Laurel's bound form.
Dinah Lance exchanged a look with her daughter before hurrying to her. She tried pulling the steel bars holding Laurel in place, but they wouldn't budge.
By the time Dinah had used every ounce of strength to get her daughter down, Jack Kadere was already back at his apartment.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Felicity Smoak—fully dressed and clearly wide awake—sprang off the couch and into his arms.
"Are you okay? I was seriously freaking out."
Jack smirked, patting her back. "Yeah, I can tell. Wearing your shoes and everything in the middle of the night? Were you planning to bolt the second things went sideways?"
Felicity looked up at him, not amused. "You weren't actually going to disappear, were you?"
Jack leaned down, kissed her gently, then grinned. "No need for that—for now. Relax. Go wait in the bedroom. I'll be there after a shower."
Felicity exhaled, half in relief and half in exasperation, then turned toward the bedroom.
When Jack finished his shower, she had intended to interrogate him. But as soon as he stepped in, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. Before long, the sound of the bed creaking filled the room—and by the time Felicity remembered her questions, it was already morning.
They woke late, unsurprisingly. Felicity only had time to confirm there was no need to skip town before rushing off to work. "We'll talk more tonight!" she called out on her way out the door.
Jack, now alone, noticed Laurel stepping out of her own home across the street. Backpack slung over her shoulder, she was clearly headed to school. He made a mental note of her route, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment himself.
"Stop right there! Don't run!"
Jack turned his head. A voice rang out from up the street. A black man was sprinting away, clutching a stolen purse, while a middle-aged officer struggled to keep up.
"Catch me if you can, pig!" the man yelled.
Pedestrians scattered.
The thief, laughing and winded, was headed straight toward Jack.