"...And as you might imagine, security operations here are just about as tight as they come."
To demonstrate his point, Bob Bishop pressed his thumb to a small, gleaming pad near the doorway. A few clicks and whirrs, and the steel door slid aside to reveal another security station. The LCD screen read, "First station cleared; identity confirmed. Proceed to retinal scan."
Bruce Wayne nodded his head gravely and crossed his arms. "I'm impressed," he said, "but doesn't it all seem a bit excessive for a virology lab? I mean, exactly who are you safeguarding it against?"
"A perceptive question, Mr. Wayne." Bob re-locked the steel door, and they continued down the hallway. "As you might know, one of our original donors was Daniel Linderman, and he was very explicit in his will about the measures that needed to be taken to preserve his investments."
"I only got to meet him once," Bruce commented. "He was an excellent cook. I remember he had a way with vegetables."
"Daniel did have a green thumb," agreed Bob. They laughed superficially, and Bruce excused himself to the restroom, where he stepped into a stall and leaned against the door, sighing heavily.
A small device in his jacket pocket lit up at the touch of a button. "How goes the meeting with Mister Bishop?" asked a clipped English voice, slightly tinny in the speaker.
"I still don't have the beginning of a clue why he's angling for a merger," Bruce muttered. "Bishop's ability should grant him all the resources he could possibly need, and yet he's falling all over himself to get in my good graces."
"Perhaps it is a face-saving measure? After all, he hasn't made his ability public; how else would he explain his seemingly unlimited funding?" suggested the voice.
"That's the other thing," Bruce said. "The Linderman Group's been impervious to corporate attack for thirty years now. And this medical research division has no history whatsoever. It's like it never existed before. Why now? What does it need Wayne Enterprises-- and legitimacy-- for?"
"I have no doubt that you will soon come to a realization on the matter, Master Bruce. In the meantime, I remain at your disposal. As soon as I fix this wretched disposal, that is." A grinding noise sounded in the background.
Bruce laughed. "Good luck with that, Alfred."