Bruce Wayne was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of Bane's men, who gestured for him to follow him. Bruce obeyed, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he was led back into the presence of Bane.
"My scout has returned," he rumbled.
"I thought you sent two?" said Bruce.
"And only one has returned," agreed Bane, nodding at the man with the bandaged arm. "The other was killed by el payaso loco."
"Not a very good ambush if he managed to shoot both your men," commented Bruce.
"This one was not shot by the Joker," murmured Bane. "He was shot by the blonde woman with him. He tried to kill the Joker, and she saved his life."
"That…can't be right," stammered Bruce. "Or…that woman can't be Miss Quinzel. Why would she…save her kidnapper?"
"He is not a liar," growled Bane, gesturing to the scout. "He knows what he saw. And in light of this information, our deal must be altered. If your señorita has thrown her lot in with the Joker, she must suffer his same fate. I will not spare her life only to have her shoot me in the back as revenge for her lover's death."
"I'm sure he's not her lover," snapped Bruce.
"Does the thought of that bother you so much that you must dismiss it out of hand?" asked Bane. "You must not blind yourself to that possibility. Why else would she save the life of such a man?"
"I…don't know," said Bruce, slowly. "Maybe she couldn't bear to see a man killed before her eyes, even a man such as that. She has a sweet, generous, sensitive nature…"
"She used a gun like a trained killer," snapped Bane. "Perhaps you do not know her as well as you think."
Bruce was silent. "The image of that clown violating her against her will must burn before your eyes," murmured Bane. "Her struggling against him and begging him to stop. How much worse must it be to imagine him violating her with her consent, enjoying his filthy touch and begging for more…"
"That's enough," snapped Bruce. "If you're hoping to get me angry enough to consent to her being killed, that will never happen. I will not alter our deal – the girl is not to be harmed."
"No woman is worth risking your safety and gambling your life," growled Bane. "And I will not risk mine or my men for this puta. She dies with him."
Bruce was silent. "Let us ride to Arkham," he murmured at last. "Let us tell them to send out the Joker to you. If they do that, the town will not be harmed, nor anyone in it, including Miss Quinzel. You will have your revenge on your enemy, and I will rescue Miss Quinzel myself."
"You assume she wants to be rescued," retorted Bane. "She might shoot you on sight."
"That is my business," snapped Bruce. "At least this way she'll be safe. The residents of Arkham won't be stupid enough to risk an attack by an armed gang just to save the Joker's miserable life. They'll send him out to die to preserve their safety."
Bane shrugged. "It matters not to me if I kill one man or a hundred, as long as I kill the Joker. We will try it your way."
Bruce nodded, about to head off. He felt Bane seize his arm. "But if they do not send out the Joker, I will slaughter them all," Bane growled. "Men and women, innocent and guilty. All will suffer who shelter the clown, without exception and without mercy."
"They will send him out," insisted Bruce. "There is no honor among thieves or criminals. And Arkham is full of nothing else. They are a cowardly, superstitious lot who would betray their own mothers to preserve their own, miserable lives. They will most certainly betray the Joker."
"I hope for your sake you are right," said Bane, softly. "For your sake, and for the señorita. Perhaps the devil has twisted her mind so much that she can no longer see what a monster he is. El diablo is cunning in that way."
"The Joker's not the devil," retorted Bruce. "He's a man. And he can be killed like any other man."
"He will be," agreed Bane. "I will take his miserable body in my bare hands and…"
He picked up a thick beam from the ruined building and snapped it in two, with barely more effort than a child would take to snap a twig. "And maybe then, the spell he has over your señorita will shatter just like his spine," he muttered, tossing the broken beam at Bruce's feet.
"One can only hope," agreed Bruce.
"Get some rest," said Bane, turning away. "We move out at dawn, and we will ride hard until we reach Arkham. The clown is wounded and weak, and we will strike now, before he recovers his full strength. I have waited a long time for my revenge on him, and I will wait no longer. He will rue the day he crossed Bane. I will wipe that perpetual smile off his face and have him begging me for death before I finally grant it to him."
Bruce left him, muttering under his breath, "Not if I get to him first."
Bruce was still a law man. And even though he was working with Bane, he wanted to be the one to bring the Joker to justice, to duel him and win, and to rescue Harleen from his clutches. He couldn't believe that what Bane's scout had reported had been true – Harleen could never have sided with the clown. It must have been some trick on her part, some ploy to get the Joker to trust her so she could stab him in the back and escape. Bruce admired her cool thinking in times of crisis – she was clearly a rare woman. It made him more determined than ever to save her. Nobody deserved to be trapped among freaks and monsters, especially not Harleen Quinzel.