"I thought I left him for dead in that alley." Terry said as he zoomed high above the city in the plane. "I'm not surprised he wants revenge on Cobra for what they did to him. Where can he have been that he didn't know about Cobra's fall?"

"I think we have to wait to find him before we can start asking him questions." Bruce said, his voice was tense. So far he had failed to come up with an antidote, everything he did seemed to make the virus either mutate or spread faster, and Terry's fever was climbing, but Terry seemed to be fighting it.

"Do you think we can find him?" He was scanning the city trying to find traces of the virus using its DNA code. A hot spot could indicate where False Face was hiding. Right now he was scanning all the food packaging plants, but so far he had found nothing. Bruce could hear the edge of fear creeping into Terry's voice, although he kept his voice level, as though this was an ordinary mission, flushing out some Jokerz or going up against Mad Stan, not fighting to save his life, as well as the lives of thousands of others.

"Barbara contacted me, informed me that Biohazard has given them a location to bring 'Zander' too, but without Zander…"

"Why can't he just demand money like a normal criminal?" Terry tried to joke, but he was tired. So tired. And he'd developed a cough, which was interesting because that was not one of the symptoms. Bruce's theory was that he had inhaled it, rather than ingested it orally and that was causing the cough. "Bruce, even if he does have an antidote… there's no way he has enough to cure thousands of kids."

"Our only hope is that we find it soon and can replicate it, and it's not a complicated process, the sickest will receive the antidote first and the rest will have to wait." Terry pushed his plane faster, thinking about Matt. For some of them, it was already too late. Bruce had told him that already several kids who had slipped into coma's had died. He called his mother often to check on Matt's condition, which so far was stable, but for how much longer? He knew his mother was upset that he wasn't at the hospital, the Dana excuse could only hold up for so long… Finally him and Bruce had concocted a story that the city was going to be locked down, until the virus was cured and Bruce was on the committee to prevent this from happening. Every scientist in the country who could was rushing into Gotham to try and find an antidote, and a lockdown would prevent this, Bruce needed his help. His mother actually bought the story and even encouraged him. The truth was, there were no scientists coming and although an official announcement hadn't been made the city had been completely cut of from any travel to the rest of the country. Terry hoped they would hold off on the announcement, which so far they had and there had no urgent rushes to leave Gotham, oddly enough, probably because most people with children couldn't leave. Gotham was on its own, as usual.

"Bruce… the warehouse where the truck exploded, do you think its been completely cleaned up yet?" A sudden brainstorm his him.

"With the efforts for the virus, I doubt it." Bruce stroked his chin, wondering what Terry was thinking.

"Maybe there was some kind of tagging or something on the truck, someway to trace where it came from." Bruce smiled to himself, impressed by the young man's sudden insite.

"Go, and hurry." Bruce said.

"Looks like it hasn't been cleaned out yet…" Terry looked at the thick green smoke swirling beneath him.

"Terry, this could be too dangerous, you might not make it out of there."

"This could also be the only chance. I have to take it. After this I'm going to that volcano and seeing if I can resurrect a T-Rex. I'd rather take my chances with the gas. I didn't like Zander much as a person, as a dinosaur he was unbearable. Some dinosaurs are just nicer than others." Bruce ignored the quip about his age.

"Just be careful, Terry."

Terry immediately took back his sarcastic comments, he knew how dangerous what he was about to do was, if Bruce was using his first name… He hovered for a few moments in his plane and then let himself drop onto the roof. He pried open the exit he had escaped from the other night and let himself inside, this time he made sure to have his oxygen mask on.

The green gas swirled around him, obscuring his vision. The charred wreckage of the truck was strewn about as were the empty, leaking crates. He crept about, turning over large pieces of the mangled truck, looking for an sign of identification. He moved carefully, barely able to see

A large piece of the back door had been blasted towards the back of the warehouse, and there printed on it in large blue and pink letters were the words "Smiley's Candy Factory- a thousand smiles manufactured a day!" Unable to speak he held up the sign in front of the mask until Bruce had realized his meaning. Terry couldn't talk with the breath piece in his mouth.

"It's closed down now," Bruce said, typing as fast as he could, "has been for about ten years. I think that sounds like it's worth a look. Now get out of there, your oxygen's running low."

"Terry shot upwards towards his exit. He started to pry open his entry and exit but it was jammed. He heaved his body against it but no avail, the window refused to budge. He couldn't break it, the green gas would leak into the city. "Terry get out of there."

"It's stuck!" Terry said, then stuck the oxygen back into his mouth.

"You have about thirty seconds left air!" Terry shoved harder, but still nothing, his air was getting thinner. He pulled the oxygen off and shoved as hard as he could, but nothing. His air supply was gone.