Chapter 643

After surviving two separate explosions, Luther’s clothes had finally surrendered.

There wasn’t much left.

Not wanting to stand completely naked in front of a familiar face, Luther raised his massive right fist and planted it against the ground in front of him. The oversized gauntlet at least gave him something to hide behind.

"My car’s nearby. There should be a change of clothes inside. Assuming they didn’t get blown up too."

Luther wasn’t particularly interested in flashing everyone around him, after all.

Especially not with acquaintances watching.

As a senior member of Blackwatch, Luther naturally had his own vehicle. It just wasn’t a company car.

The Eredar Twins had a very simple philosophy when it came to organizational spending: if a vehicle was strictly necessary for the organization, Blackwatch would provide it. Command vehicles, specialized transport, the organization’s existing transport craft, those were all fair game.

Personal vehicles?

Buy your own.

The Twins had even gone so far as to encourage and formalize the use of privately owned cars for official business. Blackwatch would cover fuel expenses, and if Gonnos wanted to install some ridiculous special feature on your vehicle later, the company might even reimburse half the cost.

That was the budget-friendly approach.

Fortunately, most of Blackwatch’s senior personnel had entered the organization with considerable personal wealth.

Luther had spent years as the second-in-command of a criminal organization. He certainly hadn’t done so for minimum wage.

McCree had served as a senior NCO in the U.S. military before joining them.

And then there was Moira.

She was probably the wealthiest of them all. Back when she’d worked for Killian, she had been spending money from U.S. military budgets. After years of government-funded research, generous expense accounts, and the general creative interpretation of procurement rules, she had likely amassed a fortune well into the eight figures.

Of course, Moira spent most of her time on research, logistics, or command duties. She rarely had any reason to leave the organization’s facilities, and the company took care of her food and lodging. Whenever she did have to go somewhere, she rode in the command vehicle.

So the economic gap inside Blackwatch was... significant.

Still, one thing was clear.

Their loyalty to the Eredar Twins was absolute.

After buying their own cars, the senior members had unanimously told outsiders that the vehicles had been issued by the company.

Then they’d gone through the paperwork to transfer ownership to themselves afterward.

A touching display of organizational devotion.

For now, Luther kept one hand firmly in front of himself and slowly backed away.

Before leaving, he pointed at Pharah.

"Keep an eye on these two. I’ll deal with them when I get back."

A few moments after Luther disappeared, the roar of a heavy truck suddenly echoed down the street.

Pharah looked toward the approaching vehicle.

A massive transport truck hauling a shipping container came barreling toward them.

She narrowed her eyes.

Then the truck performed an absurdly aggressive drift for something that large, swinging the trailer around with a shower of tire smoke before coming to a stop.

The rear doors opened.

Moira jumped out.

Pharah couldn’t resist.

"Well, look at that. Our company vehicle."

Moira ignored her and immediately surveyed the scene.

The destroyed bar.

The wrecked motorcycle.

The cratered pavement.

She looked around.

No Luther.

Her eyes lit up.

"Luther’s dead, right?" she shouted up at Pharah. "How did he die? Where did it happen? Where’s the body?"

Then she turned toward the truck.

"Everyone else, stay out of it. Let the professionals handle the recovery."

She waved impatiently toward the cargo container.

"Come on! Stop wasting time and get that thing out of here!"

Two soldiers inside the truck pushed a large silver container toward the rear.

It looked remarkably like a coffin.

McCree had somehow stuck a white feather into his hat, while Soldier: 76 wore a white handkerchief pinned prominently to his chest.

Pharah stared.

Jessica Jones stared.

Everyone stared.

You people haven’t even confirmed he’s dead yet.

The sheer enthusiasm with which Blackwatch had prepared for Luther’s funeral was almost offensive.

Moira, meanwhile, became irritated when nobody answered her.

"Stop wasting my time. Do you have any idea what happens to a specimen like that when it’s left exposed to an environment this unstable? Every second increases the risk of irreversible damage to the tissues. I need to preserve the body immediately and transfer it into the proper container."

She looked around again.

"So where is Luther?"

"Uh..."

Pharah opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Before she could figure out how to explain the situation, a deep voice sounded from behind them.

"I’m right here."

Everyone turned.

Luther emerged from the darkness, zipping up the front of a shirt he’d apparently managed to retrieve from his vehicle.

His expression was positively murderous.

I’m alive and well. How the hell did you already arrange my funeral?

Moira spun around.

"Oh. You’re not dead."

Her enthusiasm vanished so quickly it was almost impressive.

McCree immediately pulled the white feather out of his hat and shoved it into his pocket.

Soldier: 76 quietly removed the handkerchief from his chest and stuffed it away as well.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Luther muttered as he approached. "I’m still very much alive."

He glanced at the silver coffin.

"What exactly is going on here?"

Luther had never been especially fond of Moira.

As far as he was concerned, he’d served the Eredar Twins longer than anyone else in the organization.

Before the company had even existed, he’d been there, loyally attending to the Twins’ needs. After the company was established, he’d continued working tirelessly on their behalf.

He had been there first.

He had earned their trust.

He’d bled for them.

So why the hell had Moira come along later, founded Blackwatch, and ended up as its primary commander while Luther had been stuck playing second-in-command?

It had never sat well with him.

Moira gave an awkward little wave.

"McCree. Soldier. Put the coffin away."

The two men immediately began pushing it back into the truck.

Moira then turned to Luther.

"I saw your signal disappear from the command terminal and assumed you’d been killed. But your body is a valuable corporate asset. We couldn’t risk leaving it behind where outsiders might find it, so I came here to recover it."

Luther stared at her.

Then rolled his eyes.

Hard.

"Your first thought was that I died because my signal disappeared?"

Normally, shouldn’t they investigate first?

Shouldn’t they send medical personnel?

Shouldn’t someone at least confirm whether he was dead before showing up with a coffin?

Instead, Moira had apparently gone straight from signal lost to prepare the corpse.

This woman really wants to dissect me.

Luther couldn’t help wondering whether, if he were ever seriously wounded on a mission and still barely alive, Moira would arrive and finish the job just to save herself some time.

"That’s enough," Moira said quickly, steering the conversation away from the subject.

Then she looked him over.

"Start from the beginning. Why did your signal disappear?"

She finally took a proper look at the battlefield around them.

The ruined bar.

The burning motorcycle.

The shattered pavement.

The craters scattered across the street.

Her eyebrows rose.

"You seem to have had quite a fight."

Then she noticed Jessica.

"And Ms. Jones?"

Jessica immediately stiffened.

Moira had warned her before not to create additional complications. Jessica had no desire to hear that their previous arrangement was canceled because of what had happened tonight.

"I didn’t do anything!" Jessica said immediately. "This isn’t my fault. Cage called me here."

She pointed toward the destroyed bar.

"I’d barely arrived when the place exploded. Then I saw this guy beating up Cage. Cage rushed him and attacked him, and then Cage got knocked out. After that, the flying woman showed up."

Jessica had already figured out that Luther and Moira were colleagues.

She also very wisely left out the part where she’d thrown a motorcycle at him.

"That’s complete bullshit!"

Luther suddenly barked.

"These two were working together! They were trying to murder me!"

Jessica stared at him.

Luther charged ahead with his explanation.

"I was ordered to monitor Luke Cage. The surveillance operation was nearly complete. I was planning to wrap it up after tonight and go home. Everything was fine at first."

He jabbed a finger toward the ruined bar.

"Then, for no reason I could explain, his place suddenly filled with natural gas. I even warned him. I told him, ’Hey, your gas is leaking. Shut off the valve and open the windows.’"

Luther’s expression darkened.

"And what does this idiot do?"

He spread his hands.

"He pulls out a lighter and says he needs a cigarette to calm down!"

Jessica’s jaw dropped.

Luther continued without noticing.

"Before I could stop him, the whole bar exploded. My transmitter must have been destroyed in the blast."

He folded his arms, clearly satisfied with his own deduction.

"So I’m certain of it. Cage must have discovered that I was spying on him. He knew he couldn’t beat me normally, so he deliberately blew up the entire bar to kill me and make it look like an accident."

Jessica slowly closed her eyes.

"And then," Luther continued, "this woman shows up to extract him. She was obviously part of the plan. They were going to leave together and disappear."

He gave a solemn nod.

"Fortunately, the power bestowed upon me by the two great ones protected me. An explosion that small wasn’t enough to hurt me."

Luther paused.

Then glanced down at himself.

"Though I paid a considerable price for surviving."

He was completely serious.

His clothes had been burned off.

Being forced to stand naked in the middle of New York was, in Luther’s opinion, a considerable sacrifice.

Jessica looked like she wanted to scream.

This is insane.

His theory made absolutely no sense.

Was Blackwatch always this ridiculous?

Moira rubbed her forehead.

"That’s... certainly a theory."

She didn’t bother saying anything more.

Instead, she turned to Jessica.

"Ms. Jones, you seem to know what really happened. Tell me."

"Kilgrave."

Jessica answered immediately.

Moira’s expression tightened.

"He’s involved?"

Was Kilgrave aware that Blackwatch was searching for him?

Had he decided to strike first and eliminate one of their senior operatives?

Jessica shook her head.

"Because he’s a possessive psychopath."

She looked down at Luke’s unconscious body and gently touched his shaved head.

There was still guilt in her voice.

"Luke and I have been spending a lot of time together lately. Kilgrave probably got jealous. And after what happened with me this morning, he wanted revenge."

Jessica took a breath.

"He controlled Luke and made him call me here. Then he arranged the explosion. He wanted Luke to die right in front of me."

Her voice hardened.

"He just didn’t know about Luke’s powers."

Then she looked at Luther.

"And him?"

Jessica gave Luther a sympathetic glance.

"He was just caught in it."

She spread her hands.

"Nobody was targeting him."

Silence.

Luther stared at her.

Then looked at Moira.

Then at the ruined bar.

Then back at Jessica.

"So I’m just collateral damage?"

He sounded genuinely offended.

"I’m the idiot who got caught in a gas explosion while sitting in a bar, got hit out of the sky with a motorcycle, and ended up naked on the street."

His face twisted.

"And none of it had anything to do with me?"

He clenched his fists.

"I swear to God, I’m going to kill that—"

He caught himself, then began muttering a string of furious curses under his breath.

Moira covered her face with one hand.

She slowly looked around at the others.

"Can someone please explain something to me?"

Her gaze passed over the assembled Blackwatch members.

"Other than 47, who isn’t here right now... is there anyone in Blackwatch that Kilgrave hasn’t managed to antagonize yet?"