When Did You Learn to Drive a Tank?

"Scarecrow, our operation has failed."

Noisy communications crackled through the tank's communication interface, and the intermittent static made one's ears especially uncomfortable.

"We failed to reach the attic below Chinatown on time. Someone stopped us halfway there."

Scarecrow's voice remained unhurried and eerily grating. "Who stopped you?"

"Uh, I don't know, boss."

The reporting voice hesitated. "He looked Asian, and he didn't look like a good person, either, but we'd never seen that man before. He was driving a wheelchair, and he had a huge zombie monster and a boy with him. We originally planned to run them over, but that zombie charged right up to one of the tanks and smashed it flat like a soda can!"

The words "zombie monster" naturally caught Scarecrow's attention. "Bluish-green?"

"Uh, yes, but it was a little more white than that."

"Take a picture and send it to me."

Bzzzt—

Scarecrow cut off the communication.

Ten seconds later, a photograph was sent back. It showed a huge, muscular zombie currently enduring a barrage of fire amid a group of tanks.

"That's Solomon Grundy. That idiot Penguin told me last time that Batman had already killed it."

Scarecrow pondered for a moment before turning his gaze to the seemingly ordinary Asian face in the corner of the photograph. "This person can control Solomon Grundy. What's his relationship with that zombie? Is he an ally Batman brought in?"

"Forget it. Whatever his relationship with Solomon or Batman, we just need to kill them together."

"What a pity. I originally planned to use Poison Ivy as bait and capture Batman directly with the tanks and armored vehicles. Given that bat's vigilance and cunning, an opportunity this good probably won't appear a second time."

He opened the communicator again.

"All members of the tank operation squad, listen