Merkel turned to look at Schiller in surprise. Schiller tossed his utensils onto the table, went to the door to get his coat, and Merkel hurried after him. "Do you need a ride?"
"No. I'll be back soon."
Schiller drove toward the Gotham Police Department. Along the way, he noticed that some drivers looked hurried, all heading in the same direction. Looking up, he saw that Black Island lay at the end of the coastline.
But he had no time to worry about that. He reached the Gotham Police Department as quickly as possible and heard Bruce swearing the moment he walked in.
"He's Batman my ass! When have I ever talked like that?! ...Fine, but you have to understand, everyone acts like that when they're eighteen! I..."
Bruce turned and saw Schiller, and the rest of his words caught in his throat. After all, Schiller was the foremost witness to his embarrassing history at eighteen.
"Deathstroke." Schiller named him. "He impersonated Batman and kidnapped Federal Bureau of Investigation agents. This is his retaliation for your plan to kill with a borrowed knife."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. He had thought he had already rated Deathstroke's threat level highly enough. He had not expected the man to be the same type as Schiller—never letting a grudge survive the night.
"Fine. I used the traffic system to guide Spider-Man and Deathstroke toward a suspected Federal Bureau of Investigation secret base in the city, and they did clash. But Deathstroke didn't hold back, so I thought he intended to play along. I didn't expect him to be waiting for me here."
"What do we do now?" Gordon looked at Bruce. "He says he's Batman, but you can't prove he isn't, because he honestly looks more like Batman than you do."
Bruce glared at