All that fancy finagling to get Sinclair upstairs unharmed leaves Jack feeling a bit more drained than he expected to, but he's still armed and ready to engage the splicer when it arrives. Electricity crackles across his knuckles.

As usual, the splicer's voice precedes him.

"Down five dollars," he's muttering, "down five dollars, Ryan Industries down f-four dollars twenty cents, Securis up a tenth of a percent t-to ten... to ten..."

You know what, Jack isn't interested in listening to a living stock ticker. He sneaks closer, homing in on the door he thinks the splicer'll come from.

"Still got the little nest-egg, just gotta... just gotta invest it right, yeah. Just gotta get back in... back in. 'S not too late, you're a, you're a young man yet."

wow boring get to the fight

Jack is tapping his foot out here, he's thinking of just giving up his advantage and rushing the room. Get on with it, man.

Then the splicer goes silent.

Oh. Shit. Maybe he really was tapping his foot. Jack goes still, listening.

Then: a quiet rush of air.

Jack wouldn't notice it at all, if it wasn't so familiar. Fuck Houdinis fuck Houdinis forever--

There's a scream of "COME BACK TO GLOAT, HAVE YOU?!" and Jack spins to the side as ice thwacks into the wall where he was standing. Well, he got his fight all right.