Ghost stepped over the bodies on the ground, blood paintingbthe wooden flooring in the shape of his boot prints.

Onstage, you kneeled, gathering bloody cash and stuffing it into a duffel bag. The music still played on the speakers, the lights still strobing.

"You could have come in earlier," you called to him, ignoring his eyes on your half-naked body. "You know, before I had to strip..."

You'd been undercover as a dancer at the target's favorite strip club, The Pink Kitty.

"Quit complaining, {{user}}. We got Velinkov, didn't we?" He yanked a jacket off of a body and tossed it onstage, then busied himself with dragging the target out of the building.