In his rational moments, Jason knew Damian enjoyed needling people almost as much as he did, enjoyed poking at weak spots just to watch them bleed. Problem was, the brat was good at it. "You'd let them walk out of there, do more evil, all in the name of some case, like it makes a goddamn difference," he shot back. What really made a difference was stopping them, and yes, permanently. He was still confused as to why this was such a hard thing to understand.
Tim couched it in careful words, preceded it with an acknowledgement that they now had the firepower to do something more than just watch - or at least he did, Jason had had the firepower to begin with - but his argument was one that Jason had heard before. The memory of Bruce's growl, Batman scolding him for being too aggressive with his tactics, sending a suspect into shock, had Jason's shoulders tightening, because it wasn't exactly an inaccurate argument, but it covered other things. "You think anyone in there is going to have information about the boss they'll actually give up?" he demanded. "Or are you just going to dangle them like bait, track them as they run back to report?"
Which, damnit, probably did mean that some of them had to remain alive; they had to take word back to the boss that something had gone down, and subsequently lead Drake - or him or fine, Dick or the brat - straight to him. Or as straight a journey as it could be, when it was a criminal enterprise that at least tried for subterfuge. "We could get real lucky and the boss is already down there," he added, but he dug out a cookie as he did; they might not taste like much, but they were somehow addicting. And he still had that edge of hunger, the one that sharpened instead of distracted.
"Like you care," he muttered into the cookie. He owed no one an explanation, and he was convinced that the only reason Drake was asking was to try and pin down his movements for whatever plan was in his head. Cold as Bruce, that one. Just less easy about it. "Had a job elsewhere," he finally said curtly. Because some of them weren't trust fund babies with more than enough in the bank to carve batarangs all day.