There is a susurration of cloth as he makes his genuflection. He does not intend to fall on his knees, but it happens. The resignation and dignity he has sought to cultivate throughout his confinement dissolves like wet sugar in the face of that which he has held out for, despite himself, despite all that he knows about the workings of the King of England, which is everything. Or so he has thought, often, and never correctly.
"A girl's got to be careful of men. I hope you don't mind me saying so."
A surprise SWAT raid on Jack’s crumbling syndicate leaves him fighting for survival.