The Brothel

The “brothel” turns out to be a large hotel. As you walk near the back of the small groups procession, you have time notice a dozen or so men armed with hunting rifles patrolling the roof and looking out for any signs of trouble before you are led into the lobby by the man behind you.

The large plate glass windows of the formerly cozy lobby have been boarded up, and the revolving door has been removed, leaving a gaping wound in the side of the building that is guarded by a bearded man with a handgun who nods to the leader of the party in welcome as you are led to the service desk. At the desk a short, bald headed man with a notebook looks up from whatever he was writing and gives Louie a yellowed smile “Got some for me today Lou?”

Louie sheaths his machete and grins “Fuck yah! Three of ’em, plus whatever the second part of the team can find. So, where d’ya want ’em?”

The little rat-faced thug looks down at the crinkled pages of the pad and fishes three keys from the counter “Hmmm….let’s say three-twelve, three-thirteen, and three-fourteen.”

The lead thug Louie grabbed the offered keys and gave the small man a strange look “Three? You’re telling me they filled up all of the fucking second level already? Man, you’d think these bitches would learn to hide better by now!”

You’re soon dragged up to third floor of the hotel and brought to a door marked “312” and locked inside.
Looking around, you can see that every precaution has been taken to insure that there’s no chance of escape. The keycard slot on the door has been ripped out and replaced with a strong padlock and chain, and every object that could be used as a weapon has been removed. The bed has been stripped of all but the mattress and a single blanket, and the bathroom has been likewise stripped. You’re final hope for freedom, the window, is boarded and can’t be opened without a hammer or some other tool.