Dane
Dane was pretty confident his instincts had been correct. The bouncer led him into the strip club that was a front for every kind of nasty and perverted branch of organized crime in the city that could be imagined. It was empty now, the floor still littered with trash and sticky puddles from the night before. But Dane knew it was only waiting to be brought to life. The housekeeping staff would come through any minute. And a few hours after that the girls and the bar staff would begin to arrive. A long line of miserable, underpaid, overworked, intimidated staff that kept dingy holes like this one ticking.
Meanwhile, the rooms and floors above and behind held the real business. There real money.
