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Fro a shotgun upright Before Billy could yell Police—don’t uy in the balls, then, when the man bowed forward in pain, drove her other knee into his round with nary a sound, Katie triuun

Well, there’s that

Another h the curtain—this was like clowns in a circus car—and once again, before Billy could say anything, Katie swung the butt of the shotgun into thehim backwards off his feet

Don’t fuck with Katie

Billy directed officers forward and upstairs He walked over to the door by the staircase and opened it up It was, in fact, a closet, but an odd one There was no horizontal bar for hanging coats Nothing on the floor No hooks, even

But the thu bass was more audible

Billy stepped into the closet, placed his hand against the back wall, and pushed It gave iarden level

Billy motioned for some uniforms to follow hiun raised, thebetween his ears

Wondering, Did they hear the commotion upstairs?

But he thought not It seemed like the place was soundproofed

The er’s voice sultry, al bass Billy hit the bottoun raised

The lighting was dilow A stripper pole in the center of the roos interlocked around the shiny steel beaes of undress or erotic costuirl, do masks of some kind to obscure their faces

Caught up in their fantasies, nobody noticed hiht away The bartender, at three o’clock, was the first one, and he was a threat, obscured behind a small bar

“Police—don’t un trained on the bartender The bartender showed his hands as Billy shuffled toward him

And then it was chaos—Billy’s tea everyone to the floor The participants had nowhere to go; their only exit was cut off by the police, and none of thee the authority of a half dozen cops with firearms trained on them