The men's smirks widened at the sound of crying as they reveled in their twisted pleasure from women's pain.

The one-eyed man paused, then turned to the crew-cut man. "We've got thirty minutes. After that, we're outta here," he said, his tone firm.

The crew-cut man's stomach dropped. He knew the one-eyed guy called the shots in the gang. Was this their last hurrah tonight? Was there any hope of getting out?