Adam's hair stood on end. Their situation was already dangerously fragile; any sudden movement could bring everything crashing down. He pressed himself into the corner of the wall, watching the exit, not even daring to breathe.

The soft footsteps grew closer. A dark shadow appeared in the doorway. Before the figure could react, Adam lunged, slamming him against the wall and pinning him by the throat. With just a little more pressure, he could snap the man's neck.

"Wait! He's just a kid!" Barbara Gordon cried out.

Only then did Adam realize the person he had pinned was a trembling, skinny Black child. He held a pair of pliers and a sack, clearly one of the many scavengers who scraped by picking through trash in the slums.

The boy's face was a mask of terror. He wanted to cry but couldn't, his body shaking with silent sobs as he stared at them with wide, tear-filled eyes.

But Adam didn't let go. For him, anyone who could expose their position was a threat, regardless of their age or identity. He tightened his grip, intending to choke the boy into unconsciousness. It would buy them a few precious minutes.

"Are you crazy?" Barbara screamed, rushing forward. "You're going to kill him!" She tore at Adam's hand with all her strength, pulling the boy away and into her arms.

"You're the one who's crazy!" Adam roared back in a harsh whisper. "In this situation, we can't afford any unstable elements! I was just going to knock him out, not kill him!"

Gordon stepped in, trying to calm the situation. "Barbara, Adam isn't the kind of person who would hurt a child. He was just..."

But his words had no effect. "Oh, really?" she shot back, her eyes flashing. "So as long as you don't kill him, it's not harm? Dad, your definition of harm is a little loose. He's a child. We can't use cruel methods on him. It could traumatize him for life."

Adam broke out in a cold sweat. He wondered how he could possibly reason with this girl and her bleeding-heart idealism. It reminded him of how messed up Gotham's justice system was, where lawyers would bail out monsters like the Joker with flimsy excuses.

While he was lost in thought, Barbara knelt and gently soothed the child. "Don't worry," she whispered. "We're not going to hurt you..."

Before she could finish, the boy's eyes darted around, and he kicked her hard in the stomach. The unexpected blow knocked the wind out of her. The child scrambled free from her grasp and bolted for the door, shouting at the top of his lungs in a dialect they couldn't understand.

"Barbara!" Gordon cried out, rushing to his daughter's side.

Adam instinctively lunged forward, his hand reaching for his gun. But as he watched the small, fleeing figure, he lowered his weapon.

'Shooting now would just draw more attention,' he thought. 'It's not worth it. You got lucky, kid.'

He hurried back and helped Barbara to her feet. "Our position is compromised," he said quickly to Gordon. "We have to move. Now."

Gordon, though shaken by his daughter's injury, knew Adam was right. They supported Barbara between them and rushed for the exit, but they didn't get more than a few steps before a wall of burly men blocked their path. They tried to retreat, only to find another group closing in from behind, their faces grim and murderous.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot!" Adam roared, raising his pistol and stepping in front of Gordon and Barbara, shielding them.

One of the bare-chested men in the front tucked his own gun into his belt and swaggered forward, his face a mask of contempt. "Go on, then. Shoot," he taunted. "You think that little peashooter can take all of us down? Whatever's left of us will tear you to pieces."

The other gangsters laughed, their faces full of scorn, mocking Adam's desperate stand.

Adam's jaw tightened. This was the worst possible situation, but he knew he couldn't show any weakness. He had to be fierce.

"I might not have enough bullets for everyone," he said, forcing a cold smile. "But I have enough for you. At worst, we all go down together." He took a step forward, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the man's cheek. "Or maybe I'll just shoot you in the leg. Or the spine. Or your dick. I'll make sure you don't die, that you spend the rest of your miserable life in a bed, unable to move, wishing you were dead every single day. Want to try me?"

The gangster's smug expression vanished. He hadn't expected this. Gotham cops were usually cowards who ran at the first sign of real trouble. He never imagined one would fight back so fiercely when completely surrounded.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" the big man snarled, his pride wounded. He shoved Adam, trying to push him away.

It was the opening Adam had been waiting for. As the man moved, Adam used his momentum against him, grabbing his wrist and twisting. In one fluid motion, a technique taught to him by the Bronze Tiger, he had the gangster trapped in a painful, unbreakable hold.