"My husband, can you come here? Where are you?"
A voice suddenly echoed inside Dennis's head. He whipped his head toward the door, dropped the files he was holding, and bolted out of the office. He raced past the holding cages, pinching his nose shut against the stench. Once outside, the sight of bodies strewn across the warehouse complex streets brought him to a halt. Then, he spotted Dahlia and Daphne standing before a warehouse door. Dennis sprinted toward them.
"What's going on?" Dennis asked.
Dahlia, gripping a sniper rifle, hauled the warehouse door open and gestured for Dennis to go inside.
"Just get inside first, dear," Daphne added.
Dennis stepped through the entrance. The interior looked like a makeshift casino, packed with various gaming tables—roulette, blackjack, and rows of slot machines. In the center of the room, Diana, Donna, Dulcia, and Deborah were surrounding a man in his fifties. He was shoved into a chair, bound tightly, with a gag tied across his mouth.
