All language subtitles for Gotham.Knights.S01E07.WEB

Previously
on "Gotham Knights"...

They think I killed my
dad because I wanted his money.

We're gonna find who
really killed my dad.

It's
literally impossible

for Felix Harmon
to be the Talon.

If he really is
130 years old

and still in
fighting shape,

who knows what
he can survive?

Felix Harmon
had a daughter.

Beware the
Court of Owls

that watches
all the time.

Lincoln.

Have you met
my wife Rebecca?

No. I don't
believe I have.

Wait. We can't
do this again.

That coin
you showed me,

it means you're
marked for death.

Ugh...

They called us
the Gotham Knights.

I'll take that
over Bruce Wayne's killers.

What do you think's
gonna happen

when they realize
their new heroes

are also their
most wanted fugitives?

Backup.
I need backup.

-Uh!
-Uh!

-Yah!
-Uh!

Uh!

Uh!

Uh!

Uh!

Ugh!

Huh!

If you're just joining
us this morning,

our top story is the
latest in a string

of high-profile
art heists

that has swept the
city in recent days.

City Hall was the
target last night,

and, while authorities
won't confirm

which of the many
high-priced items

was stolen, a source
close to the investigation

suggests the stolen piece
is worth millions.

Under pressure
to catch the thief,

Commissioner Val Soto
announced this morning

that the GCPD
enlisted the help

of noted criminologist
Detective Sophia Green.

Now, Gothamites
may remember Green

as the detective
who brought down

notorious burglar
Margaret Pye,

otherwise known
as Magpie.

Woman, on TV: Well, I don't
know about you, Lynette,

but I think this
sounds like a job

for our new local heroes
the Gotham Knights.

The mysterious vigilantes
recently brought down

a drug-smuggling ring...

And we'll be taking
a hard pass

on overpriced
swirls of paint.

There's a little bit
more to them than that.

You seriously want
to stick your neck out

to collect pretty things
for rich people?

"Collecting pretty things
for rich people" describes

about almost every job
we've ever pulled.

Well, yeah,
but you were paid

cash money
to do those jobs.

There's this video
of the Gotham Knights

papering the streets
with millions.

Yeah, that thing,
and it went viral.

Why do they have
to keep replaying

the worst day
of my life?

Well, at least we didn't walk
away from that empty-handed.

Speak
for yourself.

We got the ledger.

I'm not sure what we get
from an art history field trip.

What, so
those paintings

just get sold
on the black market,

public never gets
to see them again

because
cultural artifacts

aren't as sexy
as a mob day planner?

-100%.
-Exactly.

God forbid we try
and save anything

that'll outlast
ourselves.

It's not that.

It's just, we have way
bigger problems right now

Well, you're
right about that.

MM Good Doughnuts
was out

of strawberry frosted
with sprinkles.

That's my
favorite flavor.

How's Brody doing?

His dad's in a coma
with a hole through him,

and the attacker's
still at large,

so...not great,

and nobody can tell him
who did it or why.

Then it probably won't
comfort him to know

that it was an assassin
as old as the light bulb,

and until we can figure out
how the Talon's lived so long,

we've got about as many
answers as Brody.

There might be a way
to find out.

Yeah? How?

I said I'd get you
answers, not give them.

Anybody else
worried about that?

I'm just
glad the Talon's

on someone else's
radar besides ours.

Yeah. It might be helpful
if Harvey Dent

could clue the GCPD in
to who did it

instead of going with "unknown,
sword-wielding assailant"

that he couldn't see
because the power went out.

Harvey's smart
enough to know

that would make
him sound insane.

If he goes public with
that, he's gonna sound

like a crazy
conspiracy theorist.

And he's ahead
in the polls.

He knows he can
help us more

if he's doing it from
the mayor's office.

If he gets
elected.

Harvey.

How is he?

He got through
the surgery,

but then
a few hours later,

it all went south.

He's been in
a coma ever since.

Oh. How are you?

Exhausted, stressed...

worried.

Want to get
some air?

When I heard Lincoln was
attacked at your office,

I panicked.

I'm sure you were
wondering why him, not me.

All I could think
about was you.

I can't believe
I'm saying this,

but in that moment,
I couldn't bear

the thought of something
happening to you.

-To me?
-Mm-hmm.

-Rebecca--
-Harvey...

what the hell is
going on in Gotham?

I don't know,

but until I can get
to the bottom of it,

you and Brody need
to get out of the city.

It is not safe, OK?

Now, Rebecca, you
can't trust anyone.

Can I trust you?

Of course I can.

I don't get it.

I mean, first, the guy
doesn't think twice

about tripping
the alarm.

Then once
the alarms go off,

he just waits
for security.

I mean, is he being
cocky or just dumb?

He's being smart.

The thief waits
for security to arrive

so he can take them out
because if they're down,

they can't pursue,
and they can't shoot at him

as he makes his way
up and out,

and now he has an 18th-century
American landscape

to go with the surrealist piece
he stole from the Met

and the abstract impressionist
canvas he boosted

from the Gotham
Museum of Art--

interesting mix of paintings
he's collecting.

Well, I'm more
concerned with

the interesting mix
of M.O.s he's using,

I mean, different
style of entry

and exit
for every heist.

High-end thieves
like this,

they spend years
honing their craft.

What kind of burglar
changes their M.O.

from job to job?

One that doesn't
want to get caught.

Got your text.
Stolen car?

Hey.

You stole the school's
driver's ed. car?

What? When you
bring it back,

it's called borrowing,
thank you,

and it was
surprisingly easy,

I mean, once
I figured out

which steering wheel
to hot-wire.

Turns out, it's
the one you think.

Cool. I'm still
wondering why.

We need answers on how
the Talon's so spry

after a
quasquicentennial.

-Hmm.
-I looked it up.

And what answers do you
think you're gonna find

in a 4-door
educational tool?

Eh, you always do ask
the right questions,

Little Bird,
and let's just say

the car isn't the only
thing I borrowed.

Ta-da!
Look who's back.

Eunice?

So you want help
with your homework?

More like
extra credit.

Cullen and I were chatting
over coffee and crullers

about the stolen paintings
and the importance of art,

and it kind of
got me thinking,

so I did a little digital
digging into the cases.

Trouble is,
the paintings

didn't have
anything in common.

There's no pattern.

Why steal these,
especially when,

as I found out,
in most of the burglaries,

the thief passed over
other works of art

that were
much more valuable

than the ones
that were stolen?

So they're after
specific ones.

Or maybe the buyer's
just really eclectic.

Or maybe there
actually is a pattern.

Or maybe this is the most
low-stakes mystery ever

and I'm not sure
why I should care

about the Case of
the Missing Doodles

for Rich People.

What if that rich person
was Alan Wayne?

Every painting that
was taken was owned

by Alan Wayne at
the time of his death.

After that,
they changed hands,

moving from
gallery to gallery,

owner to owner, but
they all used to be his.

That can't be
a coincidence.

Nope.
It's a pattern.

And who do we know
that's interested

in all things
Alan Wayne?

The Court of Owls.

It could be them.
Could not be.

I mean, but
to really be sure...

Is to solve the Case
of the Missing Doodles

for Rich People.

Looks like this is a job for
the Gotham Knights after all.

This is crazy,
even for you.

I know your dad
was a villain,

but that does not mean
that you have to be.

This is
seriously wrong.

No. This is Gotham,
and in Gotham,

villains
get things done.

Hey, Eunice, we're gonna
get you out of there, OK,

but you have
to be nice.

-Yaah!
-Oh!

-Aah!
-Down!

Do not make me
tase you again.

You tased
a senior citizen?

I put it on the lowest
setting. It's fine.

This is
elder abuse.

Elder abuse? Really?

You want to talk
elder abuse?

Just think of
what that poor

nursing home staff
has to endure.

Trust me, Carrie.

They're probably relieved
to see her gone, OK?

Come on.

There is a century-
and-change-old killer

out there right now
who survived

you dropping a whole
Batcave on him,

so if we
can figure out

what makes him
live so long,

maybe we can figure out
what'll make him die,

and dear, old
Eunice is the only

Talon-adjacent
person I know.

Come on.

Sometimes you got to be
bad to get the goods.

You want to take
her arms or legs?

Wow. Thanks,
Officer Row.

That rubber duckie is still
letting me hack the GCPD.

Thank you,
Officer Row.

All in
a day's work.

Don't celebrate
just yet.

Looks like the GCPD
is just as stumped

as we are
on all these art heists,

including that new
expert they brought in.

Apparently, Detective Green
is a bit of a badass.

Rumor going around
the GCPD was that

she's the reason
Catwoman hung up her claws

before Green could
slap the cuffs on them.

Hmm.

Well, where are
you headed?

Sometimes you got
to leave behind

the comfort
of the computer

to get some
real answers.

The nation's top art cop
has no idea who the thief is.

And you know
who knows more

about crime
than cops?

Criminals.

Lincoln.

Hello? Rebecca?
Are you all right?

I'm still
at the house.

I had to get Brody off
to his grandparents'.

Why aren't you
there with him?

Well, I wanted
to get Brody

out of the city
as fast as I could.

I've been packing
to leave, but--

But what?

Someone keeps calling
the house and hanging up.

I feel like
I'm being watched.

Harvey, I'm scared.

OK. Listen.

There's a GCPD detail
that's assigned to you.

There's
a unit downstairs.

There's another one
on your floor.

You told me not
to trust anyone.

What if someone
is watching me,

just waiting for me
to go outside?

I don't know
what to do.

I'll be right there.

Oh, no.

No, Harper,
unless you're here

to give me back
all the money

that you and your
friends took from us.

You mean all the money
you and your pals

took from
innocent people?

All right. Look.

I'm in a better
place right now.

I'm in therapy.

I'm working out
my issues,

and so seeing you,

just a little
triggering for me.

I wouldn't be here if
I didn't need your help.

Yeah?

Remember what happened
last time you said that?

Because I do.

We both
made mistakes.

Don't you have any
other mob friends?

I thought you preferred
family business.

Yeah. Well, business
ain't that good,

thanks to you
and your pals.

You were gonna turn us in
for the reward money.

My therapist
made me realize

that I was trying
to punish you

for not reciprocating
my feelings.

-Dylan--
-I'm working through it.

Look. Truth?

I'm sorry for the way
I left things between us.

You deserved better.

And deep down,
you know,

I just want you
to be happy,

even if that's
not with me.

I want you to be
happy, too...

but, like,
not with me...

Right.

and, honestly, even if
you don't want to help me,

no hard feelings.

I'm just glad I got to
tell you how sorry I am.

It sounds like
you're really

taking care
of yourself, Dylan.

Keep it up.

Wait.

What do you
need from me?

What do you know about
all those art heists?

Oh, shut up.

Ohh...

Oww!

You little bitch!

It's cheaper
than waxing,

and--you know what?--
this is gonna be an epic story

for you to go back and
tell the knitting circle.

I don't knit.

Is that because
they don't trust you

with those big,
long needles?

We just want to ask
you a few questions.

I spent the
last half-hour

in the trunk
of a car,

and I am convinced
you intentionally

went over the
same speed bump

again and again.

-Seriously?
-Mm-hmm.

OK. We're really
sorry about that, OK,

so how about we
just chat for a bit

and then we get you back
home in time for dinner?

I don't have anything
to talk about

to either of you
terrorists.

Technically,
we're kidnappers.

Thanks for that.

OK. We just want
you to tell us

how your dear,
old daddy Mr. Talon

became
so Talon-ted--

ha ha ha!--

at not getting dead
all these years.

Well, you can just
ask him yourself

when he comes
to chop off

your adorable,
little heads.

Besides, why should
I tell you anything?

You stole from me.

That music box was
a gift from Papa,

and if you think
I'm going to tell you

anything else, you
are sorely mistaken.

-Let's torture her.
-What?

Oh, what's that,
Eunice?

I can't hear you.

You got
to speak up.

Oh. Oh, are you having
trouble breathing?

-Duela--
-Let me fix that.

Duela,
that's enough.

How about now?
Can you breathe now?

OK. OK. No. No.

We're not doing
that, thank you.

She's fine.

You two
are awful.

I'm never gonna
tell you anything.

What if I told you we
still had your music box?

Oh, my God,
If I'm ever a hostage,

will you promise to never
negotiate for me?

I'm gonna go
get that, OK?

Then I'm gonna
come back,

and we're gonna have
a nice, little chat.

OK.

So did you get any
art-heist-related insights

from the criminal
underworld?

They're just as
stumped as the cops.

They who?

A former colleague.

I know all of your
former colleagues.

Just because you
pretend to be a cop

doesn't mean you get to
interrogate me like one.

OK. Fine.

I went to go
see Dylan.

Dylan?
Dylan McKillen?

Yeah. No.
You know, I'm sorry.

He does not strike
me as someone

with the greatest
criminal mind.

No, but he does
have ears,

and whoever stole
those paintings

aren't any of
the usual thieves

who operate
around here,

so they think
it's someone new.

Well, we may not
know who we're looking for,

but I think we know
what they're looking for.

There's only one painting
previously owned

by Alan Wayne
still left un-burgled.

That's not a word.

Anything can be a word
if you hyphenate it,

and if our thief
is a completist,

which he seems to be,
he'll want to add this

to his collection.

That's his
next target.

Where's it hanging?

It's not.

It's in storage,

the off-site archives
for the Kane Museum.

Oh, no.
I know that look.

So, what, we're
art thieves now?

Look. If the Court of Owls
wants those paintings,

we got to figure out why,

and I can think
of one person to ask.

Who wants to go
catch a thief?

Sure is
an ugly building

for all those
beautiful works of art.

We've been here
for hours.

Where the hell
is this thief?

I should've packed
more snacks.

All the other
paintings were stolen

- between the hours
of 11 P.M. -00.

Unless we're here
at the right place,

just on the wrong night.

What if the thief
already took it?

Or what if he's just
fashionably late?

Where'd he go?

-Oh!
-Harper!

Are you hit?

-Uh!
-Agh!

-Aah!
-Aah!

Waah!

-Are you OK?
-It's just a graze.

Just keep pressure on it.
Keep pressure on it.

Uhh! Agh...

Uh!

Huh! Uh!

Uh...ah!

Uhh! Oh...ohh!

Uh...uh!

Detective Green?

Yeah.

Hey...

Oh, you are
so sweet, dear.

Oh! Ha ha ha!

Ahh...

Wow. That's a lovely
ballerina, Eunice.

Were you a dancer?

I was, in fact,
an excellent dancer.

May I?

Ah.

When I was young,

I would attend

the most elegant parties
the Court would throw.

They always had them in
the strangest places--

abandoned mansions

and forgotten
train stations,

never the same
place twice,

but we would
dance and dance

until
the wee hours.

That sounds
so lovely.

Ah.

Do you remember
who was there?

Oh, no, dear.
We always wore masks.

-Ha ha ha!
-Hmm.

The Court of Owls
would give me

everything
I could ever want.

Papa made sure
of that.

So Papa kills
for the Court,

and in return, you get
a life of privilege.

Mm. Heh.

Yes. That was
the arrangement,

heh, but when Papa was
so boorishly condemned

as the Butcher
of Gotham

and the entire city
wanted him to hang...

I thought I'd
never see him again.

That must have been
so hard for you.

Mm, mm-hmm,

but on the eve
of his execution,

the Court of Owls
paid him a visit.

They respected
his work so much,

that they presented
him with an offer,

one that would allow him
to survive his hanging

and imminent death,
and in return,

Papa became
the Court's enforcer

and did
their bidding.

How did he survive?

They imbued him
with something,

a substance.

Yeah. What was the stuff
that kept him alive?

Oh, it was
so long ago, and--

what was it called?
Ha ha ha!

Whatever it was,
the last was used

by the Court on him,
and they have been

searching for more
of it ever since.

Tell me
what it was called.

Oh--

Oh, you know,
I am so parched

-Oh, my God.
-all of a sudden.

Would you mind
terribly

getting me
a glass of water?

Yeah. Of course.

You kidding me?

Sometimes you have to
be good to get the goods.

Khagh kho blah!

-Harvey?
-Yeah. It's me.

Thank you
for coming over.

Of course.

Have you gotten
any more calls?

Yes, but I
stopped picking up.

Good. Um, OK.

Well, why don't you
finish packing, and I'll--

Who is this? Hello?

I'm calling GCPD.

Hey, it's Dent.

I need you
to run a trace

on the last call
to this number

and then call me
on my cell

as soon
as you got that.

OK.

I don't know
if I'm too scared

or not
scared enough.

God, I feel like
I'm losing my mind.

No. You're not.

Rebecca...

your husband
was just stabbed.

I think you're
handling this as well

as you possibly could
under the circumstances.

Hey, that was quick.
What have you got?

OK. Thanks.

Do you know
Miranda Livingston?

Not personally,
but Lincoln does.

She's the woman I suspect
he's been sleeping with.

Who the hell are you?

We're the
Gotham Knights.

You're kidding.

What are you,
a cop or a thief?

I'm a cop who's being
extorted into being a thief.

Extorted how?

They took
my family.

It's just a scratch.

Well, don't
tell me that now.

I just ruined a perfectly
good shirt for this.

Worst-case scenario,

it leaves
a very sexy scar.

Scars aren't sexy.

Agree to disagree.

I was told if I ever
wanted to see them again,

I needed to procure
a list of paintings.

Any idea
who gave the orders?

No.

They've only communicated
with me by cell,

always through
this burner phone.

They figured
since I put away

most of the art
thieves in Gotham--

You could figure out
how to steal like one.

Turns out, they
were right. Uhh!

You need to get
to a hospital.

No. I need to get
the last painting

to save my family.

Not like that,
you can't...

but we can.

Would you be a dear

and wind that
back up for me?

Would you be a dear
and not call me dear?

I'll just wait for the
sweet one to get back.

Huh.

OK. Fine.

Nngh!

Waah!

Oh, you crazy,
evil bitch!

Papa told me
about the girl

with pretty baby blues
that got away.

Oh, I guess I get to
finish what he started.

Oh, having a hard
time breathing?

Can you
breathe now?

Can you breathe now?

-Aah!
-Oh! Oh!

What happened?

Well, I tried
to be good,

and I got shivved
with a ballerina.

Ha ha ha!

Aagh!

D'aagh! Aah!

Did you know that
she could stand?

Kind of figured
it out on the fly.

Ha ha ha!

This isn't supposed
to be here.

Either Detective Green
had bad intel or this place

updated their security
because of the heists.

This is a
biometric scanner

hard-wired
into the system.

Which means...

Which means we need
a fingerprint

of an employee
to get in.

OK, and if we
don't have that?

Then we have about 60 seconds
after we pop the door open

before the alarm
gets really bitchy.

-Smash and grab.
-Only faster.

So dash and grab.

How are we
supposed to pop the door?

There's not
even a lock.

But I may
have a key.

Does Carrie know you pinched
that from her stash?

Be sure to keep
the engine running.

You wouldn't begrudge
a jilted wife a drink,

would you?

No. I'd say
you've earned it.

And would you
join her?

OK, one...

but then
I'm putting you

in a waiting
security vehicle

so you can go
be with Brody.

I suppose Miranda
keeps calling

because there's not
a hospital notification

protocol for informing
patients' mistresses.

She's not the first.

She probably
won't be the last.

Sorry.

Sometimes I think
that Lincoln

married me not
because he loved me,

but because he was
looking for someone

to play the role
of a dutiful wife.

Well, it's a role
you play very well.

I'm not unhappy
about Lincoln.

That was over
a long time ago.

It's the regret that
keeps me up at night.

Oh, Rebecca...

I know.

I'm a married woman,

the wife of
your opponent...

and you are Gotham's
white knight.

I know what it feels
like to be conflicted.

So do I.

Oh...

Go, go, go.
60 seconds.

Uh!

Oh, ho. Oh, my God.

I can't believe I only get to
spend 60 seconds in this place.

Stephanie, on radio:
Yeah? Well, now it's 50.

Green says the painting's
toward the rear of the place,

so look for vertical stacks
of paintings filed together.

Harper, how we
doing on time?

40 seconds.

Here.
Here, here, here.

Tell me what it
looks like again.

Uh, it's
a seascape.

They're all
seascapes.

Does it have a ship,
a lighthouse?

There's a medieval-looking
tower thingee on a cliff,

and--I don't know--
I think those are sheep.

-Sheep?
-30 seconds.

Tower, cliff.

Sheep. OK.

No offense, your
great-great-whatever

had crappy
taste in art.

Nice.

20 seconds.

Over here.

Go down.
Go that way.

The guards are in here.
I thought we had 60 seconds.

Harper, on radio: Yeah.
Well, that was an estimate.

See anything?

Let's go. The suspects
are probably headed back.

I got nothing.

But they're here.

Back
in the corner. Go.

-Anything?
-No.

All right.
Come over this way.

Push in tight.
I'll meet you.

Huh?

Hey, this way.
Come on.

Come on,
come on, come on!

Gun it, Harper!

You kidnapped Eunice?
Where is she now?

Carrie's looking
after her.

You dragged
Carrie into this?

Well, the only one
who was dragged

was Eunice.

What the hell
happened to your hand?

Eunice!

Oh, and apparently,
there was, like,

some secret sauce
that the Court

gave the Talon
that gives him

some kickass
healing ability,

which I could really
use right about now

because stigmata is
not a good look for me.

-Guys...
-What did you find?

Other than
subpar brush work,

boring composition,
and cliched iconography,

nothing.

It can't be
just a painting.

There are no
secret compartments.

I already checked.

There's nothing
hidden in the frame,

nothing shoved
between the canvas.

Well, if the Court wants it,
it can't be good.

What if giving this
to the Court

puts even more
people in danger?

How would a painting
put people in danger?

We have
no way of knowing

what their undoubtedly
nefarious plan is,

but Green's
family will die

if we don't get this
painting to the Court.

Whatever we're gonna do,
we need to decide now.

I just got
a drop-off location

and 30 minutes
to get it there.

I'm a friend of
Detective Green's.

As long as you
have what I want,

I don't care
who you are.

Bring the painting
here slowly.

Where's Detective
Green's family?

First the painting.

It's real.

Kill the hostages
and whoever this is.

I don't think you
want to do that.

And why is that?

Because we brought along
a really pissed-off

insurance policy--

Eunice Harmon...

and she is not happy with you
and your Owl buddies.

Maybe it's just me,
but I don't know

if you want to
piss off the guy

who's so fond of
chopping off heads.

Release your hostages.
Then you get ours.

Come on. We're gonna
get you out of here.

Heh. Hey, maybe
I'll drop by

and see you
sometime.

Off you go.

Aah!

Gun it.

How's it feel?

Better. Thanks.

Please. You saved me
from a clip full of bullets

from those
drug smugglers.

Least I can do is
help you clean up one.

Still...thanks.

You're welcome.

You OK?

Usually, this is when I
see the other part of you,

the one that tells me
this can never happen again.

Oh, I just wish things
had been different for us.

They still can be.

You mean
if Lincoln dies.

-I didn't say that.
-You didn't have to.

I don't want that.
I just--

I just want--

Me.

What about
the mayor's office?

I don't think Gotham
will let you have both.

Whether I'm a
divorcee or a widow,

it won't look
pretty to voters.

This town
elected Cobblepot.

Anything is possible.

There's something
I have to tell you.

What is it?

I--

Now you listen
to me, damn it.

Don't you ever
call here again.

Oh.

He's--he's awake?

It's the hospital.

Lincoln's come
out of his coma.

Some much-needed good news
in Gotham tonight

as a kidnapping plot came to
an unexpectedly happy ending.

Detective Sophia Green
was brought in

to investigate the art heists
sweeping Gotham,

making her,
and even her own family,

a target of the criminals
she was hunting.

Detective Green was reunited
with her wife and daughter

after their harrowing abduction.

Fortunately, both were unharmed.

A tearful reunion took place
at GCPD headquarters

earlier tonight,
and a grateful Detective Green

had this to say
to her family's saviors.

I just want to say
thank you to the Gotham Knights.

Oh, you know,
it's even worse

when a cop says it.

Hey, just because
you did a good deed,

it doesn't make you
a good person.

-Thanks.
-Mm.

Hey.

Hey.

Thought you
might want this

as a really
messed-up souvenir.

Well, you know
me too well.

I thought
I knew you well,

but then you kidnapped
and tried to asphyxiate

a nonagenarian,
but that ended up

being a good thing
because it kept the Court

from killing
Detective Green's family,

and then I try
to do something nice

and get the old bat
a glass of water,

and I almost
get you killed.

Potato, tomato,
Little Bird.

I don't know what
that means, Duela.

It means it's Gotham,
which is another way

of saying
it's complicated.

I mean, case in point,
you just brought me

a very macabre,
little keepsake,

which is definitely
the wrong takeaway

from today,
which means...

you're learning.

You're welcome,
by the way.

I never said
thank you, did I?

What's this?

-What the hell?
-What?

Oh, my God.

What the hell
are you doing here?

I need your help.
My life is in danger.

How many people
has the Court killed

while you
stood silent,

and then your life
is threatened,

and now you
want to talk?

You have every right
not to help me,

but there is one
very important reason

why you should.

What is that?

Because I know what
the Court is planning.

I'll tell you
everything

as long as you can
guarantee my protection.

This is not just
about my survival.

This is
about Gotham's...

and if you care
about this city

the way
I think you do,

you'll want to hear
what I have to say.

Greg, move your head.