In that 'just woke up' haze, Terry cannot stop the rise of panic when he hears shipping container. He's been through the drills. More times than he'd care to think about if he was honest. He's escaped all manner of gauntlets Bruce has set up for him. He knows what to do when he's captured. But he wasn't ready for the field. He wasn't ready for the possibility he'd be chucked into a cage without a second thought. And all of that training seemed to slip right out of his brain. Bruce would be furious with him. Terry knows that. But he's gotta weigh Bruce's anger against the possibility of suffocating in a shipping container.

Dick's reply gave him a little reassurance, but he still tested the restraints and tried his best to remember exactly what Bruce told him to do. But it's hard to think when Bruce is calm in his ear. No more demands for the suit. Just a statement. I'm tracking your location.

And then his comms died, Bruce's voice sputtering into nothing. Finally, he looked up at his captors and he's thankful the cowl was hiding his face. Two solid brick walls and he's still can't flip Bruce over in their sparring matches. Great. Probably still better off than facing Bruce, but this was not ideal in the slightest. He tested the restraints again, eyes focusing beyond them to see how far he'd have to travel to reach the skylight. He wasn't reliable enough with the boots to fly far. But he could give himself a substantial head start. Maybe. If Dick hasn't turned everything off.

"You get that out of the kidnapper's handbook?" He grinned, but he certainly did not feel jovial. They wanted him to talk. Of course they did. So he'd just say the first thing that came to mind.

"How about those Gotham Gators, Am I right?"