Running out of time.

"Guess your tip was right." Max said hurrying back to Logan. She looked around the room. No windows, no vents, no nothing except a single tiny closest that Max doubted both her and Logan could squeeze into. That single door was the only way in or out. Too bad there was a small gang of heavily armed men on the other side.

Another round of gunfire followed by a few screams turned her attention back to the door. More warning shots, it wouldn't be long now before someone checked the VIP rooms.

Max turned back towards Logan, "There's at least four of them out there, I saw two more head up stairs, probably headhunting for Richards."

"Could you handle-"

"I don't know," Max interrupted knowing what he was about to ask. "They brought along some serious firepower. Automatics from what I could see, overkill for taking down a bunch of horny rich men and half naked women if you ask me. It would be risky." She knew she could handle two or three of them, but after that, it was out of her hands, one mistake or a trigger happy goon and there"d be a good chance a random spray of gunfire would take out half the club.

She could hear through the door, the shuffling of movement, a muffled argument. Something wasn't going right. Then came footsteps, to quiet for Logan to hear, but clear as day to her enhanced ears.

"Shit," she whispered, "someone"s coming,"