Going Under_ A Bill Roberts Thriller - Silas Payton Page 0,33

from his pocket Roberts had given him. He confirmed that the two men he saw at the poker table were, indeed, the ones in the picture. As he was looking at the photo, the officers returned from the kitchen.

"Nothing in the kitchen, sir. Only two cooks and a couple of waitresses. We also found the dancers lounge with one who just finished and two more in the waiting. They must have a steady stream of them."

"Check the rest of the floor. They must have a storage room for supplies, and look for a basement as well." He turned and took a few steps back to the poker room.

"Duprey. You have a basement here?" he asked. He knew from reports, the place wasn't thought to, but he'd been stung by assumptions before.

"Not that I know of -- but, what do I know?" Duprey said.

Roak turned and looked at the officers again. "Assume there is a basement or cellar. If there is one, I want you to find an entrance."

Seconds after the officers left, Bates came down the stairs. "Found a number of bedrooms, sir. There are women up there I would say were being tortured when you see who, or what, they were with. But, they all report it's by choice," he said. "No sign of any weapons or any girl being tortured."

"Anything else upstairs?" asked the Sergeant.

"There are a number of offices. The doors were locked but someone must have kicked them in before we got here," he said smiling. "Since they were open, we checked them out. Duprey has a massive office that almost looks like a shrine dedicated to himself. Pictures of himself everywhere, but nothing exciting."

"I get the feeling, he's in love with himself," Roak said.

The sergeant keyed the call button on his radio. "Staff Sergeant Brooks, this is Roak. Do you hear? Over."

"Brooks here. What have you got, Sergeant?"

"Sir, we've done a quick pass through and haven't found anything. So far, there's no sign of any victim, or even any wrong doing...and no weapons found. Over."

"As long as it's safe, go ahead with a more detailed search. I don't trust these guys for a second," said Brooks.

"Sir, the two men Inspector Roberts is looking for are in here. They're in the poker room in the back. Over."

"We'll be right in, Sergeant. Over and Out," said Brooks.

**********

The Doctor

The doctor was out of coffee and the action seemed to have settled down.

Maybe I should just leave. It's been a long day.

After a few minutes, a stream of people, mainly women, came out the front door across the street. They were quickly directed away from the building. There appeared to be some yelling when some of the women wanted to get their motorcycles and were told to keep moving. Even from across the street, he recognized the gesture of the middle finger.

Classy bunch.

He decided to sit tight a while longer.

More women were getting vocal at not being allowed access to their bikes. From his vantage point, there were words flying back and forth. When one wouldn't leave, two of the officers were quick to slap some cuffs on her and throw her into the back of one of the police vehicles.

Once the door closed behind her, she started kicking at the side window from the back seat. He could almost hear her screaming from inside the restaurant. Her friends moved to join the group walking toward the perimeter, rather than choose the same fate.

He watched the crackpot in the back of the SUV thrash around.

Roberts stood next to his friend, who was busy talking into his radio.

Must be getting a message from his men on the inside. Hopefully, they found something -- get everyone worked up for a while.

**********

Bernie Leduc

Bernie could hardly hold his hands still. He was shaking with both anger and anticipation. Eight years in a jail cell. "How many times I thought of blowing your brains out, Officer Roberts," he said. He hugged the rifle tighter.

I could take half your head right off with this thing.

Bernie had Roberts' head in the crosshairs of the scope. With the muffling effect of the silencer, it would take a while for anyone to locate where the shot came from. In that time, he'd be long gone.

He flipped off the safety on the rifle.

He knew exactly how he'd get away without being caught. He couldn't go back inside.

Too many cops.

The escape route he had in mind was far safer. In the past couple of months, he had spent many hours