Ghostwriter

Chapter 35

"Manon's doing what?" Jason blinks, his anger rising. The clocktower couldn't be colder.

Barbara drums her fingers on the armrest of her chair. "I won't say it again. You're just there for backup if she tries anything when she hands him over."

"Screw you." He would go in there and get his baby himself. He grips his hood in his hand. His guns feel heavy in their holsters.

"Jason, you have to come with me. You're technically on bedrest, so I can't put you on the field, but this way you'll at least—"

"Give me the address." A vein in Jason's forehead bulges.

"No." Barbara's gaze hardens, and her brows solidify.

Fine. Manon has his grappling hook still, which has a tracker on it. He can find her and ask her then. He marches off to do just that.

Barbara wheels after him. "Jason. Listen to reason, for once. They're expecting you to come after them. So, if we let Manon do her job, she'll—"

Jason turns on his heel. "Her job? Babs. It's not her job. It's my job." He could clean up his own messes, thank you very much.

He purposefully marches down the stairs from the clocktower so she can't directly follow. He jams his helmet over his head.

He tracks his grappling hook through the helmet.

His phone beeps. He follows the trail that his helmet provides and opens up his phone. Three text messages pop up.

Dont you dare

I will hack into your vehicle

Then, from Annie,

Did she say anything about HT?

Another pops up.

Is he ok?

His thumb hovers over the last text. He gives it a thumbs up, then texts, Working

He turns off his phone.

He finds Manon couching on the ledge of a rooftop. The sun is starting to go down. Her blond hair glows in the fading light. She's not in her Wander gear, but her red mask still hides her eyes. The bump in her slim pants, the rumples in her sleek jacket, the crinkles in her slick boots are only visible to his practiced eye and the only indication of any weapons on her.

She says nothing to him. Doesn't even look at him, stares straight forward at the apartment building across from them. Yet, a slow, gloved hand extends a grapping hook to him.

He takes it and hooks it into his belt. They stare together. Red Hood imagines all the ways he wants to rip Hill apart for this, but can't. This isn't a guns a'blazing mission. This is the rescue of a child, a hostage scenario. It requires delicacy, finesse.

Not to mention Antigone would shun him.

They wait in silence for the sun to hide and night to crawl over the city.

Then they move forward, slinking into the shadows for cover. Manon swipes her feet under an outdoor watchman, letting him fall to the cement roof. Like a snake, she strikes a spot on his spine then withdraws.

They move on. Red Hood uses a silencer on his gun to steal the lives of two other watchmen guarding the door, but not before he flicks a small, circular disk onto the nearby camera, which causes the entire security system to be put on a loop.

Manon goes straight through the front door.

Distraction and behind-the-scenes action it is, then.