Jack stares. He knows so well what it's like, to have people die in front of him that he could and should have saved, but the knife-twisting Spider-Man is describing... well, it's a long way down from the Brooklyn Bridge.

"I'm sorry," he says. The words feel lame and pointless in his mouth. He shifts on his perch for a moment before speaking again.

"On the communicator, you mentioned that he's good at twisting you around. That's why you can't push too hard on him here, isn't it? You're afraid he'll somehow manage to bring you down to his level. That he'll manipulate you, taint you." He took a breath and thought about bridges and gravity and gloating.

"I still don't understand why you'd be worried about that. From what you're telling me, this man needs to be stopped. Period, no matter what."