There was the sound of climbing, a dull metal tone of his hands against pipes swiftly finding grips and hauling himself out of immediate danger. There were a few more bursts of gunfire before he was in the shadows enough the thugs were fanning out, new clips in and looking around the dock area warily.
"I'm very much not dying," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. He liked being alive, too, after all. One of the thugs was starting to crawl under the SUV's to figure out how they'd been sabotaged. Dick looked around. Time to turn the lights out on this operation. He hurried across the scaffold to the other wall, narrowly avoiding one of the thugs looking up his direction. Timing was everything, after all. Then he pulled out a special putty and snapped it, quickly sealing it over a power line and letting the chemicals work.
The lights went out and his night vision came on, escrima sticks at the ready as he jumped down among the criminals. "How bad is the damage?" he asked, even while there were gun bursts, cries of pain, curses, and the steady strikes of his sticks coming over the com. He wasn't going to say the Joker escaped for these thugs to overhear. Usually that was kept quiet to avoid public panic and media scrutiny.