Chapter 151

~~The Ripper~~

God damn it felt good to be in the driver seat again. God damn it felt good to end someone’s life with his bare hands.

Jack the Ripper dropped man’s corpse, and it burst into a pile of ash as it collided with the street. Joe was no more. Finally. Fucking finally! Irritating god damn worm. Jack laughed as he stepped onto the pile of ash, and kicked it away. Finally.

He looked to the Carthians who’d shown up. Some stared down at him from nearby buildings. Some stared at him from across the street. The four ancilla, Garry’s strongest, stared at him from twenty feet away, each of them injured and hurting. Cory backed away, putting more and more distance from Jack as he clutched the hole in his stomach.

Jack looked at the bag in his hand. This stupid necklace. It forced down the Beast, and Jack, new Jack, was bound to the Beast in a way old Jack wasn’t.

But it was also the only reason Jack wasn’t staked and tucked away in a cellar somewhere for years while the Prince and Jack’s bitch grand sire looked for a cure. So he sighed, and tossed the bag to Vivienne.

“Hold onto that.”

“I ... wh-what? O-O-Okay.” She snatched it up, and stared at him as he looked to the crowd of onlookers hidden around in the nearby buildings and alleys.

“All of you!” Jack raised a hand, like a fucking emperor, and grinned at all the stupid bastards staring at the kid in the boxers and shoes. “Your little leader is ash. I don’t know what Joe said to convince you all that you should try this, that you should actually attack us, attack me! I don’t know what lies he said, or what delusions he weaved, but let me set the record straight. Jack has been trying to keep the peace, to save as many lives as he could. Jack is the only damn reason I haven’t buried you stupid assholes in the ground.” He tilted his head to the side, and licked his fangs. “You should have listened. Now, you’re all gonna die.”

~~Damien~~

Oh God no.

Damien stared on from a distance, buried deep in his Cloak with binoculars in hand. Close enough to hear what Jack said though, just barely. No, not Jack, not anymore.

Stake him? Could he stake him? Last time Damien had staked the Ripper, the curse had just finished a one-on-one with a giant spider monster the werewolves struggled with. He’d been a tattered, broken vampire, weakened and drained. Now, Jack looked like he’d just finished his warm-up and was ready for a proper fight. It would have been funny that he was standing around in his underwear, if not for the look on his face, a blend of excitement and psychotic glee.

Damien scanned the sky for movement. There was none save for two crows, who broke off from what looked like pursuit of fleeing Carthians, and now circled the sky above. Like vultures. But no swarm came, no flock of crows, no legion of rats, nothing. Either the Ripper was saving them for when he needed them, realized they wouldn’t be of use with his targets fleeing, or he actually cared about the Masquerade. Strong as he was, even the curse couldn’t take on a few billion humans armed with flamethrowers, and nukes.

Jack walked toward the Carthians. Damien recognized them. Garner, Kass, Bella, and Steve. Garry had about ten ancilla in the Carthians, but not all vampires did combat well. These four did, and were often considered the biggest threats in the Carthians save for Garry himself. Frontliners, fighters, people who liked to throw down. People who probably agreed with an anarchist like Joe.

The four of them spread out as they circled Jack. Were they serious? Did they actually want to fight him?

No no no, everything was going wrong. Killing Joe was recoverable. Everyone knew the man had a problem, that he was hungry for action. But if the Ripper started wiping out Garry’s whole covenant, everything would be over. The war would turn into chaos. The Prince would get involved. It’d be a giant mess. And Damien and Maria’s goal of reviving the Lancea et Sanctum in Dolareido would be lost.

Damien pulled out his phone.

~~The Ripper~~

“Gotta be honest. I expected you fucks to run.” He grinned at each ancilla as they surrounded him. “You really think you shitheads can beat me? Four of you?”

“You can’t use your pets here,” Bella said. “The cops will be here soon. You won’t violate the Masquerade.”

Jack tapped his chin with a finger. “True. I don’t want to piss off the blue.”

“You don’t want to piss off your Prince.”

“My Prince?” He raised a brow at that. “Ain’t no Prince of mine. But either way, I won’t summon my legion. Yet. But hey, if you fucks think you can really fight me, you better commit. Otherwise Cory is gonna die.”

Bella stood up straighter before snapping her gaze to Cory.

Of course Cory stuck his head out from behind a car, and looked at Jack, confused. Looked him right in the eyes.

Poor Cory. The young Gangrel was only twenty years embraced, far as the Invictus knew, and a bit more timid than his stupid dog brethren. He clearly wasn’t used to a Ventrue being up front and center, and a single mention of his name was enough to have the man looking at Jack with wide eyes.

Jack glared at him, and again, Cory didn’t look away. Eye contact was powerful, even without Dominate. Predators knew that, human predators, humans who knew how to prey on weak-minded fools. If you wanted to crush someone’s mind, break them, reduce them to a pathetic child incapable of a single thought, you met the eyes. Glare into their useless souls and make them submit. Cory couldn’t look away.

Jack reached out, and broke the kid’s mind. Like snapping a plastic spoon.

Come to me.

Cory walked to him.

Steve was closest, and he made a running dive to get in Cory’s way, but Jack’s suggestion was powerful and overruling. Breaking someone’s natural desire for self preservation was the hardest part of the mind to break. Everyone had self preservation as the most basic, deepest instinct, and if you could override that, you could make anyone do anything.

Cory jumped over Steve, and ran over to Jack before standing beside him. Ah, the look of shock on Steve’s face, and the blank stare in Cory’s face. Fucking beautiful.

“So, get over here and fight me, fist to fist, or I rip off Cory’s head, just like I did Joe. Or maybe I’ll rip off his limbs first and see how much damage it takes before he finally goes poof.” Grinning wider, Jack kicked at the pile of ash under his feet again.

The four ancilla glared at him, but they were smart enough to avoid meeting his eyes. When the fists started flying, Jack wouldn’t be able to break their minds. Even Jack the Ripper took longer than half a second to Dominate someone, and they probably knew it. That was fine. He wanted to get his hands dirty tonight.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Jack said. “Let’s hear the speech. Let’s hear how much the Invictus suck, how horrible we all are. Let’s hear about how we’re all a bunch of soulless lawyers and greedy accountants. Let’s hear the stupid bullshit about how Invictus are evil, and you Carthians are the passionate, sympathetic good guys trying to make this city a better place. Let’s hear all the ridiculous, delusional crap you tell yourselves. Come on! Now’s your chance for last words.”

They looked at each other, checking to see if anyone actually had something to say. Apparently they did not. The only thing Jack saw there was panic. Joe was dead, and Cory was soon to follow. Say one thing for the idiots, they were in it for each other. A bunch of morons who shared stupid ideals, and they’d die beside each other for their stupid ideals.

“Oh, before I forget.” Jack kicked at Cory’s leg, the knee, the outside of the knee. Crunch. It was enough pain to immediately break his suggestion on Cory’s mind, and the man fell to his side screaming. “Don’t want you going anywhere.”

That was enough to set them off, and the four Carthians ran for him. Perfect.

Of course, the Carthians weren’t so stupid to think they could just take him in a straight fight. They’d been outside for a bit now, and in the chaos, some of them had gotten some guns again. So much for a fist fight, Bella pulled out a pistol and unloaded on him while her three friends rushed him. Hell, it was actually a smart move. The bitch was a good shot, and Jack had to lift a hand and cover his face to stop bullets from slamming into his head. Some bullets hit his chest, and one hit his jaw, but they flattened against his skin and flesh, barely able to scratch him as his pulsing snakes of blood emerged again as she fired.

She threw the gun aside, getting the hint, and he grinned at her as the coils of dark crimson seeped back into his skin. Of course the moment he did, the other three Kindred dove at him, a delightful mix of fear and anger on their faces.

It quickly turned to mostly fear as Jack spun, and backhanded the fucker going for his back, Garner. Slow, already injured, Garner fell to his side hard. Useless. But Steve came at Jack fast, looking for some payback for Jack smashing his head in with a gun. And sure enough, he came at Jack with a knife.

Jack stuck his hand out as Steve came at him for the stomach stab, and Steve sank the blade up through his left hand. With vitae hardening Jack’s flesh, Steve had come at him hard and fast, intent on puncturing him like he was a wall of wood, and the blade pushed up through Jack’s palm, right between the middle and ring finger. The pain was an afterthought, lost in the glory of a good fight. A great fight! Jack clamped his hand down on Steve’s hand, over his knuckles and the blade grip, and squeezed. Steve screamed.

Kass came at him opposite of Steve, and Jack was off balance, holding Steve and slowly crushing his hand into mulch, but leaving his right side open. Kass’s throat was looking better, but there was still a big dent there, and she didn’t run with as much speed as she should have. Probably trying to avoid putting bouncing pressure on her fucked up back. Well, stupid her, she came at him a little too slow, and he turned to face her, Steve in toe, until they were face to face.

Kudos to her for still having the balls to come at him straight regardless, and she swung a straight punch for his face. He took it, head twisting slightly with the impact, but he punched her back a moment later, and he punched at lot harder. She went down, clutching her jaw; not broken, since she rolled with the punch, but close. She got up quickly and dove at him, full body tackle, maybe thinking if she got in close she could grapple him.

Jack spread his feet, braced his weight, and spun. Steve swung around him as his feet came off the street and stuck out with inertia, and Jack let go of his hand when he collided with Kass. A beautiful side-on collision that had them both rolling over the asphalt like fucking dolls. And hey, the knife was out of Jack’s hand too, so that was nice. He watched, happy tickles working up his spine, as Steve and Kass rolled over the street hard enough to tear open skin.

And then thud, something hit Jack. The ground came up to Jack pretty damn quick, and he collided with his chest first before his chin crashed into it. Thankfully a Kindred used vitae to fuel their body, not their actual organs, not truly, or he’d have suffered a pretty nasty concussion from how hard his head hit the street. Someone had fucking tackled him when he’d been distracted. Bella was on top of him, and she was smart enough to pull out a knife as she dove for him.

Once, twice, three times she stuck him in the back with the knife, putting every bit of strength she had into it. But when she tried the fourth time, he forced the blood out through his skin again, and the knife sunk halfway into his flesh, and got stuck.

He rolled over. She was a smart enough grappler to stay on top of him as he did, letting go of the knife, but she wasn’t strong enough to keep him from pushing down on the street until he was sitting up. And she didn’t expect him to drive his forehead into her chest. Not a good angle for maximum damage, but enough to send her back and reeling.

“Ow! That hurt!” He reached behind him and pulled the knife out of his back. “You got a little fight in you. I like that.” The best Ledger impression.

“Fuck you.”

“Ugh, my wit is wasted on plebs like you.” Laughing until it echoed through the street, he marched toward Bella, stomping his feet as he did. “Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a Carthian bitch about the lose her head.” He winked at her, and waggled her knife in front of him.

And there it was, panic, fear. Bella scrambled to her feet and put her fists up, eyes on his for a split second before she remembered to avoid holding his gaze. It was kind of annoying, how everyone knew now how quickly he could Dominate people. It was so much fun when they didn’t see it coming.

He took a step toward her. She took a step back. He chuckled darkly, licked a fang as he drank in the fear, and took another step.

“I’m going to cut open your gut, and rip out your insides piece by piece. I wonder how many organs it’ll take before you pop. Then I’m going to rip your friends apart.” He pointed the knife at Garner, still recovering from what looked like a broken jaw, and Kass and Steve. They hadn’t just hit each other when he threw Steve at her, they’d rolled over the street a dozen times at high speed. They’d broken bones. Well, more bones. “I’m going to collect all your ashes into envelopes and mail them to Garry. And—”

Bella stopped walking. He stopped talking. She blinked past him, eyes snapping to something else, something she didn’t expect. Jack expected it, the sudden wave of power that came from behind him. It was bound to happen eventually, and it might as well happen now.

Slowly, Jack turned around, and sure enough, there he was. The mother fucking sheriff of Dolareido.

Daniel stood there in his usual dark trench coat, wearing his subtle glasses, and he looked at Jack with the steady gaze he always did.

“Carthians,” the man said. “Take your injured and leave.”

Jack laughed. Old faithful was a stone cold fuck.

“Howdy sheriff. If you’re gonna entertain me instead of these fuckwads, I’m cool with that.” Shrugging, Jack turned toward Cory, and kicked him. Of course he put force into it, bracing his weight as best he could, so he could send the dude half flying, half rolling toward Bella, screaming as he did. A fresh dent in his side, complete with ripped open flesh, threatened to spill his withered spleen.

She caught him as best as she could, but she wasn’t in the best condition either. All of them had broken bodies, and running on vitae to keep from collapsing. She fell back with a whimper of pain as the man flattened her to the asphalt.

The others joined her. Slowly, Steve and Kass got up off each other, Steve cradling his hand and Kass holding her throat. Garner clutched his broken chest and jaw, but after a couple steps, he collapsed, and cried out in agony as he did. Steve and Kass helped him, each slipping under one of his arms and half carrying him as they walked.

“Bye guys,” Jack said. “But remember, we’re not done. You poked the bear. I’ll make sure you’re all dead, sooner or later.”

Each and every one of them managed a quick glance to him, and he relished the look in their eyes. They were terrified of him now. He’d have been hard if he’d been Blushing Life.

“Jack,” Daniel said. “Where is your necklace?”

Jack shrugged and gestured back to Vivi. “She’s holding onto it.”

“You didn’t destroy it?”

“Well if I did that, you, the Prince, and Elaine would bust my ass and do everything you could to lock me up, wouldn’t you?” He winked. “I’m just out for a bit of fun.”

The sheriff, predictably, didn’t react to his words. The perfect straight man, Jack could make a living telling jokes with this guy.

Daniel looked to the building beside them as it went up in flames. “We have four minutes before the police, and fire department arrive.”

“Of course.”

“Will you put the necklace back on?”

“Not until I’ve had a bit more fun.”

Daniel glanced to the fleeing Carthians. “I ... don’t think Jack would want you to.”

“I am Jack.”

The sheriff frowned. Subtle, but any sort of expression from this statue was saying a lot.

“Vivienne, are you alright?”

“Y-Yes.”

Ah, right, Daniel was her grandsire. Jack felt his smile grow as he looked at the sheriff, and then glanced toward his grandchilde. A menacing glance.

Message received. Daniel’s scowl remained, and he adjusted his leather gloves as he glared at the Ripper. “How do you want to do this?”

“I wanted a good fist fight, but these Carthians failed to deliver. So, I won’t summon my army, if you don’t use the sword. Deal?” Jack looked the man up and down a moment, waiting for a response. “Come on, hit me!”

Daniel hit him.

‘Hit him’ didn’t really put into words what it was like to get hit by a five-hundred-year-old Mekhet who’d been working as an enforcer for most of that. Daniel was a blur of movement. If there’d been any indicator, any tip off in his eyes and face, Jack didn’t see it. All he saw was a haze of trench coat and glasses come at him, and then a fist collided with his face.

Jack had been smart enough to pull up his vitae and reinforce his flesh, but he’d also let the blood coils seep back into his skin, dormant. Mistake. Well, even someone as awesome as him could make mistakes and underestimate someone. But damn, the sheriff hit a lot harder than a Mekhet had any right to, and Jack flew back as the world spun around him.

The moment he landed, Daniel was on him, grabbing him from behind. Not mounting and punching, like Bella had tried. Daniel was smarter than that bitch. Daniel got behind him, and picked him up by hooking his arms under Jack’s armpits.

Daniel was a tall man. Jack was not. Daniel hunched over him as he hooked his arms up under Jack’s shoulders and then his hands behind Jack’s head, pinning him under the sheriff’s weight and forcing Jack’s chin down to his sternum.

“You serious, sheriff? A full nelson?”

The sheriff said nothing. What an asshole.

Well, grappling was definitely an art Daniel knew that Jack did not. And Daniel had a hundred pounds on Jack. For all intents and purposes, Jack was already defeated.

Jack pushed his arms forward and together, driving the strength of them directly against Daniel’s grip against his head. It hurt having his chin driven down into his own sternum, but it also directly put the strength of his arms against the strength of Daniel’s forearms and ability to keep his fingers entwined. And Jack was fucking strong. Daniel’s grip broke, and he slipped his arms out before Jack could trap them against his sides.

But he was too close to avoid getting a proper backhand as Jack spun around. Back of the fist to Daniel’s shoulder was enough to have the sheriff flung to the side, but like a fucking acrobat the man rolled through the air with it, and landed on his feet and one hand. With the sword still in its sheathe on his back, and the trench coat flapping in air, he looked like a fucking shitty cyberpunk ninja or something.

Daniel rubbed his shoulder where Jack hit him. It’d been a good hit, something broke, but Daniel adjusted the shoulder with an audible crunch, and rotated it around as he looked at Jack.

“You heal fast for a Mekhet.”

“Practice.”

Jack laughed. “You get beat up a lot?”

“Not as much as you.”

“Touché!” Jack rubbed his jaw as he grinned at the man.

In typical, cold, brutal fashion, Daniel came at him unannounced. Such a shame. The sheriff wasn’t interested in goofing around. To him, this was just a job to get over with as efficiently as possible, and that meant no banter. Dude was not the sort to talk around the water cooler.

But Jack the Ripper was! People at the office loved him.

Jack ducked. Apparently Daniel didn’t expect Jack to summon enough speed to do that, cause he collided with Jack, chest to Jack’s upper body. Jack laughed as he punched up, and nailed the fucker in the chest.

“Haha!”

Daniel, somehow, managed to jump with the punch, and back as well, landing on his feet again, with minimal damage. There’d been contact, knuckles to bone, and the sheriff rubbed his chest for a second with the most dispassionate, stone face Jack had ever seen. This wasn’t nearly as much fun as Jack had been hoping.

Shut up kid. I’m having fun. You lock me up for weeks and expect me to just sit around when I finally get out?

Do what? She can’t hurt me, without hurting you. So shut the fuck up and let me have some fun. If he dies, he dies.

The Ripper rolled his eyes, and crushed the voice in his head. He was in the driver seat now, and he wasn’t going to let some idiot child he was forced to share this body with dictate a god damn thing. Shut. The fuck. Up.

“You’re fast, you know that?”

Daniel didn’t respond.

“If you were using your sword, I bet you might even be able to hurt me. Maybe even kill me.”

Daniel didn’t respond.

“Course, if we were playing for realsies, I wouldn’t be out here, would I? I’d be hiding in my tower, like the Prince. I’d be sending my legions, my thralls and ghouls, my pets, my army. I’d be sipping a fine red and looking out the tower window, while my latest ghoul blows me. Sound about right? Maybe something Viktor would have done?”

Daniel didn’t respond. Fuck, this guy was more than just boring. He was professional. Ugh!

Sighing, and wearing his biggest, best grin, Jack pointed his hand at Daniel, and made the classic ‘come at me’ gesture. He was tempted to voice it, say something like ‘come at me bro’ or ‘get over here!’ or some such, but it’d wasted on this fossil.

Sure enough, Daniel came at him. Faster. Jack didn’t manage to duck this time, and the fist came straight for his face, dead center on the nose. And the fucker put some power in it too, cause despite Jack keeping his vitae up and ready, strengthening his body and hardening it, his nose went crunch.

Jack flew back, hit the street, rolled a half dozen times, and collided with the front of a car. The bumper dented in, and so did the hood where the back of Jack’s head smashed down onto it.

Seeing stars, Jack fell forward to his hands and knees, and blinked a bunch until the world stopped spinning. Concussion? Nah, vampire. Broken bones? Nah, super vampire. Broken nose? Apparently. Teetering, Jack stood up, got his bearings quick, and glared at the asshole a good fifty feet down the street from him.

Daniel clenched and unclenched the fist he used to punch Jack. He’d hurt himself, punching that hard.

Chuckling loud enough it echoed against the big, empty office buildings, Jack began the walk back to the sheriff. And naturally, Daniel stared at him with those cold eyes the whole time. Perfect.

“Come on, no speech? Nothing to say at all? Sheriff, I’m giving you the perfect opportunity to tell the audience what you’re thinking?”

Daniel didn’t so much as glance at the nearby Kindred, thralls, and ghouls who stared on. His eyes remained focused on Jack, hands at his sides, elbows slightly bent and ready to get his hands up again. Laser focus.

As Jack closed the distance, he reached deep down into him, found the biggest wrecking ball he could, and smashed it into the bastard’s mind.

Jack the Ripper was strong, fueled by an ancient curse passed onto his bloodline by the Strix themselves, forged from the ashes of diablerie. He had power in spades. But tackling the mind of an ancient vampire as old as Daniel was a pretty big task. The most powerful Ventrue didn’t go around dominating vampires of similar age, that’s just not how it worked. With Dominate, you punched down, and broke the minds of weaker foes.

Punching straight, hitting Daniel’s mind, was like a regular human punching a tree. Jack’s assault came to a quick stop as he smashed into a giant wall of steel in the sheriff’s mind. And within the metaphor of his mind, Jack the Ripper looked up and up at the steel gate that barred his way.

Beside him, Jack the weakling stood there, arms folded across his chest, a big stupid grin on his face, and he gestured to the gate.

“You think you can break that down?”

The Ripper snarled, and slashed out at the gate with one of his many claws. He poured his power into it, and sure enough the metal scratched and dented where his will struck it. But that was all.

“Yes.”

“Sometime this century?”

The Ripper snarled down at the stupid boy. “It wouldn’t take a century.”

“It’d certainly take longer than a minute though. And right now, you and Daniel are standing in a street, with a bunch of Invictus and Carthians watching.”

The metaphor around them happened a thousand times faster than the physical world outside. The Ripper had time to think and work, but he knew he wouldn’t be breaking into this fortress.

A glance around showed more than the steel wall. Beyond it, a steel building with no windows, square and beyond boring. And above that, a pale sky, with no moon or sun or clouds. And underneath their feet, endless dark stone, or metal, or something hard and featureless.

Fortress didn’t do justice how fucked up this man’s mind was.

The Ripper had traces of memory of the lives that came before him. He had shreds of moments from Julias’s life, before siring Jack. Of Viktor’s life, before he sired Julias. Of Elaine, before she sired Viktor. And of Susanna, before she sired Elaine.

None of them had minds like this, but then, his chain of memory didn’t extend to their minds post siring a childe. But he doubted any of them had developed a mind quite like this. Susanna definitely didn’t. Her mind was an orgy of sex and gore and murder and rape and torture, an excess of stimulation that she relished. Elaine and Viktor and Julias’s minds were predictable, small houses that slowly raised into castles, and would have continued to grow if this incarnation of the Ripper had stayed within.

What sort of fucked up past did Daniel have to turn his mind into this? No wonder he was interested in an angry bitch like Athalia. Her stupid loud voice was probably the only thing on the planet capable of penetrating this shit.

Snarling, the Ripper let the Dominate hold go. Instantly the streets of North Side were visible again, the heat of the burning office building, and the eyes of the onlookers. To them, they’d have seen a couple seconds pause in the fight, nothing more. To Daniel and Jack, it was a failed attempt to Dominate.

Daniel didn’t even bother grinning, but he did take it as a sign to attack. Again, Daniel came at him, and again, it was a blur of movement. It wasn’t just speed. Daniel was a masterclass assassin, and used his Cloak to hide his movements. Jack, normal Jack, still remembered what it was like when Daniel had slaughtered the dozen or so Kindred that’d been with Lucas, after he’d used Damien to kill him. The sheriff had been a ghost, appearing for only a second to slice someone in half, before disappearing again.

Well, Jack was not some young Kindred. Jack poured his vitae into his senses, into his awareness, and jerked his head to the right. Daniel’s fist came at him, for the head again, with enough speed to make a car jealous. But he’d underestimated Jack, probably because of the failed Dominate attempt. The curse was strong, very strong, and Jack summoned enough speed to tilt his head out of the way, and get his closer hand up and on Daniel’s arm.

Finally, a look of surprise on the bastard’s face. Subtle, but there, and it made the fight worth it.

Jack got his left hand’s grip on the man’s punching hand, his right, and he grinned at the bastard as he returned the punch, straight for the fucker’s chest. And this time, with a firm grip on the fucker’s wrist, Daniel wasn’t going anywhere. All Jack needed was an anchor and he could pour his strength into something, and that anchor was their connection.

Broken bones. He felt them, the delicious sensation of bones breaking like fucking pasta noodles snapping in half, and Daniel’s face lit up with pain and rage like he was Italian. No scream though. The others screamed, the Carthians, screamed like stuck pigs. But not Daniel, just a grimace. It took the sheriff a second to get his precious statue face back, but Jack had already lined up another punch.

Jack missed. Daniel stepped back far, twisting away even as his right arm stayed locked in Jack’s left hand. But with some distance between them, Daniel had enough room to bring up one of his feet for a face kick, taking advantage of Jack’s forward momentum from the missed punch. Punches hit hard, but kicks hit harder, and Jack only just managed to twist his head enough to keep the boot from colliding with his nose. It’d only just gotten realigned and he didn’t want to do it again.

Apparently Daniel really was a ninja, because he balanced on one leg, and with torso facing Jack, kept the same kicking foot up in the air, bent at the knee and hip, and kicked out again, this time at Jack’s chest. Not the power of a full kick but it still fucking hurt, and Jack recoiled with the impact. Which left Daniel an opening to kick him in the face, with the same foot, all without lowering the leg. And he repeated the motion several times.