"Prisoner, Edward Nigma."
"You are to remain completely silent. Any conversation, noise, movement, or resistance will be met with swift and severe punishment. Now, in preparation for your transfer to cell block C, please place your hands in front of you."
...
Jim Gordon prepared to secure the Riddler in the straitjacket himself.
This was a top-of-the-line prisoner transport vehicle. Reinforced body, bulletproof glass, metal-plated doors and windows – it was designed to prevent any escape.
Inside the spacious van, over twenty heavily armed officers stood guard, each in a bulletproof vest, rifles at the ready.
Gordon was confident that even the Riddler wouldn't be able to escape this escort.
Probably.
"Have you spoken to him?"
Riddler asked, "Eager to get me to Arkham, are you?"
"I don't like starting with warnings, Nigma." Commissioner Gordon's voice was firm. "Let's just skip to the rubber bullet threats."
He nodded to the nearest officer.
"On your knees."
The officer leveled his weapon at Riddler.
Click, click, click...
Half a dozen guns were trained on Riddler's forehead, red laser dots dancing on his skin, adding to his sinister appearance.
"Let's play a riddle," Riddler proposed. "How long does it take to escape a cage?"
"Ten seconds? Fifteen? Half a minute, an hour? A lifetime, perhaps?"
A chill ran down Gordon's spine.
"The answer is—"
"Twenty seconds."
"Shut up, you..."
Jim Gordon realized what was about to happen, but it was too late.
"Hold it, Andrew! Don't listen to Gordon. Remember Maya, Caroline, Caitlin—your children at Bright Community School," the figure sneered, a sinister edge to his voice.
The officer's grip on his weapon wavered.
"I've broken out of Arkham more times than you can count. I'll do it again. And when I do, I'll find your precious children. I'll end them," the voice threatened, dripping with malice.
A gasp escaped Gordon's lips, his heart pounding with a primal fear.
"Officer, you follow orders, not whims," Gordon barked, trying to regain control of the situation.
The figure turned to Chris, Andrew's partner. "Chris," he taunted, "has the Commissioner heard about your dealings with Two-Face? The kickbacks? Your hand in Black Mask's operation? Harvey Dent, as you may recall, was the DA. DAs are quite good at gathering evidence. He has enough to bury you in Blackgate for a century."
Chris's face paled, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his gun.
"And that evidence? It's in my possession. Cross me, and it goes public. Your fellow officers heard every word. They'll turn you in. Want to rot in a cell with the scum you put away?"
A sadistic grin spread across the figure's face. "Here's a thought. Kill everyone here. The secret dies with them. Protect me, and it dies with me."
Gordon watched in horror as Chris's gun barrel trembled, his resolve crumbling under the weight of the threat.
"Chris, don't trust ..."
Gordon hadn't finished his sentence when he saw Chris pointing the gun at him.
"Damn it."
Jim Gordon cursed, "Someone shut him up--"
"Darryl, Jill, Christopher, Raphael, Ron, Connor, Josh..." "It's as if I know all of you, your dear, sweet, soon-to-be-deceased families, and your darkest, deepest, most shameful secrets."
"It feels like this is our first meeting."
The Riddler said, "This is an interesting riddle."
Bang! A policeman suddenly shot his colleague in the head without warning. As the sound of gunfire from the out-of-control officer filled the air, the situation descended into complete chaos.
The bullet pierced flesh, tore through tissue, and lodged in bone. The other policeman fell without a word. They were all professional policemen from the same department, and everyone knew each other's tactics.
It was. a preemptive strike!
"It's started."
The Riddler said.
"No, put your gun down, do you hear me?" Commissioner Gordon was still desperately trying to intervene, but it was futile.
"Put it down-"
"I heard it! You heard it too, I have a ##%%@# kid!"
"I will never let a psychopath like Edward Nigma walk out of this car!"
"Everyone! You have to stop! Daryl, put your weapons down, put them down now, I'm not kidding you-"
BANG! "Who did you meet for the first and last time simultaneously?"
"An Arkham guard."
The Riddler lay on the ground, leisurely placing his hands behind his head.
BANG! BANG! BANG! The sound of intense gunfire filled the air.
"Oh, no, too specific, you have to be here."
BANG! BANG! "Who is someone you could meet once and never see again?"
"A bunch of stupid cops with bullets in their heads."
BANG! "No, I don't feel anything, it's depressing, that's why I have to talk to him, he just makes everything make sense."
Jim Gordon knelt in a pool of blood.
"Oh my God."
"Gordon, can you contact him again? I would be very grateful."
...
"Impossible, Joker, you are committing suicide."
Scarecrow said, "Batman has set a trap for you. I will not go with you. No way."
"What do you mean, no way?"
The tense conversation between Joker and Scarecrow reveals a deep-rooted conflict within their alliance. Their disagreement centers around the focus of their plan: Joker is fixated on eliminating Batman, while Scarecrow advocates for a broader destruction of Gotham City.
Joker believes that removing Batman will leave the city vulnerable and ripe for their takeover, but Scarecrow dismisses the idea, highlighting Batman's singular focus on their partnership as an obstacle.
The disagreement escalates into violence, with Joker impulsively punching Scarecrow. Scarecrow retaliates by threatening to use his fear toxin, a threat that only fuels Joker's excitement. This exchange highlights the volatile nature of their relationship and foreshadows potential chaos as their alliance fractures.