Chapter 644

Blackwatch had five true core members, excluding the three dozen or so ordinary agents who handled the grunt work.

These five held the department’s real authority and represented its strongest combat power.

Together, they were known as the Five Officers.

And now, with 47 off searching Hell’s Kitchen for the blind vigilante, every single one of the others had managed to cross paths with Kilgrave.

Soldier: 76 was still technically an outside contractor, so he didn’t count.

Moira and McCree had been assigned to deal with Kilgrave in the first place, and their operation had nearly turned into a disaster. Neither had forgotten that.

Pharah, meanwhile, usually served as Blackwatch’s mobile support. When there was nothing urgent happening, that meant she could spend most of her time flying around in a state that was essentially paid half-retirement.

Tonight, that luxury was over.

Luther, however, had the most reason to hate Kilgrave.

He hadn’t even been involved in this mess.

He’d simply gotten caught in the blast.

Twice.

He’d been beaten, blown up, knocked out of the sky by a motorcycle, and publicly deprived of every shred of dignity he’d ever possessed.

There was no chance he was letting that go.

If courting death were an art form, Kilgrave would have been a master.

Everyone present had reached the same conclusion.

Find him.

Then kill him.

But first, they needed bait.

And Jessica Jones had already volunteered to become it.

The next morning, around nine o’clock, Jessica stepped out of a room at one of the city’s better-known hotels.

She looked nothing like the disheveled private investigator most people knew.

Her clothes were still recognizably hers, but she’d put on a light layer of makeup, and she’d actually bothered to tame her hair until it fell neatly around her shoulders.

For once, she looked young.

Almost innocent.

Luke Cage emerged from the same room a moment later.

He wasn’t dressed like the casual bar owner everyone knew, either.

Today he wore a sharp suit.

And, for reasons known only to himself, an obnoxiously purple bow tie.

Even his bald head had been polished until it gleamed under the morning sun.

The two of them linked arms.

Jessica leaned against Luke’s broad shoulder.

Then they stepped out of the hotel together, smiling and laughing like a couple hopelessly in love.

Which was exactly the point.

They spent the morning strolling through a nearby park, one of the city’s favorite spots for couples.

Once inside, they became almost aggressively affectionate.

Jessica occasionally complained that she was tired and wanted Luke to carry her.

Luke picked a wildflower from the side of the path and handed it to her.

They laughed.

They teased each other.

They leaned against one another.

They looked disgustingly happy.

More than a few people passing by gave them deeply unimpressed looks.

By lunchtime, the pair had moved on to a particularly conspicuous restaurant catering to couples.

They chose a table for two by the window and ordered the restaurant’s recommended romantic set meal.

Then they made matters even worse.

Jessica brushed a crumb from Luke’s mouth.

Luke wiped the corner of Jessica’s lips.

They stole kisses whenever they had the opportunity.

Several nearby couples looked increasingly irritated.

After lunch, they wandered through a plaza and stopped beside an elderly painter selling portraits.

They sat together, fingers intertwined, bodies pressed close, wearing radiant smiles as the old artist painted them.

Inside the command vehicle, Moira watched the entire performance through the surveillance monitors.

She kept one eye on Jessica and Luke and another on everyone moving around them.

"Do you really think walking around like this is going to provoke Kilgrave enough to draw him out?"

The plan had been conceived the previous night while everyone was trying to figure out how to force Kilgrave into the open.

Jessica had proved more useful than anyone expected.

She was a private investigator, after all, and more importantly, she understood Kilgrave far better than anyone else did.

Their history ran deep.

According to Jessica, Kilgrave was a possessive psychopath.

He couldn’t stand seeing her happy.

As long as Jessica’s life remained miserable, he could sit back and wait for her to crawl back to him.

But if she started living a genuinely happy life?

He wouldn’t be able to tolerate it.

He would come out himself and destroy everything she had.

The fact that he’d tried to have Luke Cage killed directly in front of her was proof enough.

So Jessica’s solution was remarkably simple.

Do nothing.

Dress well.

Dress Luke well.

Go out in public.

Act like the happiest couple in New York.

Then wait for Kilgrave to lose his mind.

Jessica had presented the strategy with complete confidence.

Moira was less convinced.

It was already noon.

Kilgrave hadn’t appeared.

Not even a suspicious individual had shown up.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true.

Almost everyone around Jessica and Luke seemed suspicious.

Most of them were staring at the couple with varying degrees of annoyance, envy, or outright hostility.

There were simply too many possible suspects.

"Relax," Luther said from the seat beside Moira. "It’ll work."

Moira glanced at him.

"How are you so confident?"

Luther snorted.

"Because the way those two are acting is infuriating. Forget Kilgrave. I feel like walking out there and beating them myself."

Moira sighed.

On the monitor, Jessica and Luke had begun strolling again.

Their little tour of romantic excess continued.

They carefully packed away the portrait the elderly painter had given them.

Then they went into a jewelry store and browsed.

They visited a watch shop and browsed.

Then they went into a bridal boutique and started trying on wedding dresses.

They didn’t buy anything.

They didn’t need to.

Luke took one look at Jessica standing in a wedding dress and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

For just a moment, the fake relationship didn’t feel entirely fake.

Why not make this real?

Jessica turned in front of the mirror, admiring the dress.

She caught Luke watching her.

A rare, genuine blush appeared on her face.

Later that afternoon, the pair planned to visit a small novelty shop and buy one of those matching locks couples used to symbolize eternal devotion.

They had barely reached the entrance when Moira’s voice suddenly snapped through their earpieces.

"Do not go inside that store. Keep moving. And don’t enter the one next door, either."

Jessica and Luke exchanged a glance.

Then, with the disappointed air of tourists whose romantic itinerary had been ruined, they walked away.

Behind the counter, the blonde shopkeeper stretched his neck and stared after them.

He’d been certain they were going to make his first sale of the month.

So close.

And then they just left.

At last, near evening, luck finally answered.

Jessica and Luke were passing a neighborhood basketball court when a man in a purple suit appeared.

Kilgrave.

He watched the couple walking close together.

His expression twisted.

Then he followed.

Under normal circumstances, Kilgrave would have been far more careful.

But Jessica and Luke had spent the entire day parading their happiness in front of him.

He’d consumed enough metaphorical relationship propaganda to turn his hair glossy.

Still, it hadn’t extinguished the anger burning inside him.

And after Jessica’s reckless kidnapping attempt that morning, Kilgrave had made another mistake.

He’d underestimated her.

He’d convinced himself that Jessica was barely a threat.

So when he saw her now, arm in arm with Luke Cage, smiling like she’d never been happier, he stopped thinking cautiously.

He followed.

The moment Kilgrave disappeared from sight, the Blackwatch agent stationed near the basketball court casually dribbled the ball.

She was a young Egyptian woman with a ponytail and the Eye of Horus tattooed across her face.

She tapped her earpiece.

"The bait operation worked."

Her expression sharpened.

She planted her foot, took three quick steps, and drove the basketball hard into the hoop.

"Bear trapped."

Inside the command vehicle, Moira had been looking distinctly bored.

The moment she heard the report, she straightened.

"Operation successful. The bear is caught. Everyone move to the designated location and take up your positions."

"Understood."

"On our way."

Pharah tossed the basketball back to another player.

"I’m done."

She grabbed the bicycle she’d left nearby and rode off.

High above the streets, McCree had been keeping watch from a rooftop.

She immediately descended, mounted her Harley, and took Soldier: 76 with her as they sped toward the rendezvous point.

Jessica and Luke received their orders as well.

Without making any obvious change to their behavior, they quietly abandoned the rest of their planned date and headed for the designated location.

A church.

It was large and had once been fairly popular.

That had changed about a year earlier.

The priest had been found dead inside the church in the middle of the night.

His body had been completely drained of color. It looked as though every drop of blood had been removed.

His skin was so pale and his body so cold that people said it felt like touching something that had just been pulled from a freezer.

Naturally, rumors spread.

People whispered that the priest had been claimed by demons from Hell.

The other church staff had been strangely evasive afterward.

No one would explain what had really happened.

All anyone seemed to know was that they’d heard the clergy muttering about something that sounded like a sacred... contract.

Whatever the truth was, the result was simple.

If a church couldn’t protect its own priest, people weren’t exactly going to trust it with their souls.

Attendance collapsed.

Now the building stood mostly empty.

Kilgrave arrived outside and stared at it.

Then at Jessica and Luke.

They had spent the day browsing jewelry.

Looking at watches.

Trying on wedding dresses.

And now they were heading into a church.

Are these two actually planning to get married today?

He’d already dealt with them the night before.

And they still had the nerve to act like they had nothing to fear.

Perhaps they knew they couldn’t defeat him.

Perhaps they had decided that, while they still had the chance, they should finish everything they wanted to do and leave nothing behind.

Kilgrave’s expression darkened.

"Well."

He smiled.

"I’m not a demon."

He shoved open the church doors.

"I can be worse."

He strode down the aisle.

"Lord, I have sinned!"

His voice echoed through the empty church.

"My sin is that I destroyed a girl’s past... and now I intend to destroy her future."

Jessica stood before the altar.

She slowly turned around.

The expression on her face was difficult to read as she watched Kilgrave rave.

"Jessica."

Kilgrave extended a hand.

"Come to me."

"You know this is where you belong."

"That," said a woman’s voice from the pews, "is possibly the worst attempt at courtship I’ve ever seen."

Kilgrave turned.

Only then did he realize just how empty the church actually was.

Three people sat among the rows of benches.

The woman who had spoken had short hair and a lean build.

Beside her sat a heavily built Black man wearing nothing but a tank top, his body covered in tattoos.

A third woman wore athletic clothing and sat beside a large hard case.

Something was wrong.

Kilgrave glanced around.

There was no priest.

He slowly looked back at Jessica.

"This is another trap, isn’t it?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"You’ve brought in more help."

His voice hardened.

"You know that won’t work on me, Jessica."

"Maybe not."

"Definitely not."

Jessica stepped down from the altar.

She moved slowly around Kilgrave with Moira, who had risen from her seat.

The two women circled him from opposite sides.

"Maybe not," Jessica repeated.

"Definitely not," Moira agreed.

Kilgrave watched them.

Two women quietly walking circles around him.

It was strangely unsettling.

What the hell is this?

Had they actually brought some secret weapon?

Were they this calm because they knew something he didn’t?

Then the church doors slammed open again.

Kilgrave spun around.

A silhouette stood framed in the setting sun.

A cowboy.

Wide-brimmed hat.

Western-style clothes.

And a massive revolver hanging at her hip.

One hand was already open beside it, as if she could draw at any moment.

For a split second, it looked like something straight out of an old Western.

Kilgrave’s eyes narrowed.

A gunslinger?

Was this the trump card?

A fast draw specialist?

Someone who could shoot him dead before he even had time to use his ability?

That was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

So Kilgrave reacted the only way he could.

"Go kill yourself, gunman!"

BANG!

The shot came almost immediately.

The bullet struck the ground directly in front of Kilgrave’s feet.

He jumped.

Another shot.

Then another.

The revolver barked repeatedly as sparks erupted from the floor around him.

Kilgrave danced from side to side, desperately avoiding the bullets.

The gunslinger laughed.

"Not bad. You’ve got some rhythm, you eunuch."

In the blink of an eye, she reloaded the revolver.

Then raised it again.

"Care for another round?"

"McCree, enough."

Moira’s voice carried a note of reproach.

But anyone listening closely could tell she was enjoying herself.

"Yes, boss."

McCree flipped the revolver around her hand three times and smoothly returned it to her holster.

Then she turned and shut the church doors.

With a grin, she called out,

"Close the doors. Release 76."