"Ever heard that expression two wrongs don't make a right?" Terry said. His arms folding over his chest as he stretched out his hand after it made satisfying contact with Damien's cheek. "Think on it." He said with a low sort of snarl. Part of him wished they had Arkham. People like Damien belonged there. People like the Joker. Like Harley. All deserved it. At least neither of the aforementioned had used innocent people as a mask.
The flickering lights caught his attention and he raised a curious eyebrow, though it was hidden behind the cowl. He looked up and then back down at the guy on the floor. The names mentioned their civilian I.D.'s. But code names? Who knew. Maybe there were loopholes there. "If you keep your part of the deal, you'll never have to see us again. Break it and.." his voice trailed off as he looked over at the phone and outstretched a hand as Damien practically interrupted him to point it out. A red and black batterang shot from his wrist and it severed the phone line. It sank into the desk and broke the wood. Terry started walking toward the window. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. I'm much worse than Bruce." He looked over his shoulder. His hand ran along the crack in the window idly. Was that there before?