Charlotte didn't consider herself as someone who swore a lot, but shit. There happened to be a lot more of them than she originally thought. Like dominoes tipping over, more and more masks seemed to be popping out of the crowd. Nothing they couldn't handle, probably, they had all gone through this drill many times before. No need to panic right? Yeah, sure. Gunshots rang throughout the room, and she was certain that most of them belonged to her fellow workers, based on the collapsing of bodies she didn't recognize. As she drew her 96, two of the four patrons in front of her stood up, pulling a mask over their faces and reaching for their weapons. 

She scowled, she knew something was off about them, shifty eyes an restless hands should have told the whole story. Before the first one could aim at her, she sent a bullet right between his eyes, and another at his chest for good measure. His friend, older but not wiser, made the mistake of watching the whole scene instead of taking action. As soon as he seemed to realize what was happening, he bolted. The other patrons had escaped sometime after the first masked man made his appearance, hopefully they hadn't gotten shot, Dusty Roads had a reputation to uphold, after all. 

She hopped the counter, eyes trained on the escaping crook, heading for the nearest door, or even better, an exit. Glancing down at the pistol, she decided she did have enough bullets. But why waste them? Besides, she wanted some answers first, better to get it sooner than later. Instead of shooting, Charlotte reached into her boot, drawing a folded knife. She flipped open the blade and flung the weapon at his ankles, causing the man to crumple to the ground and scream in pain. As soon as she caught up to him, she twisted the knife and withdrew it, instead placing her foot on the open wound and grinded it harshly. Sure, it was cruel, but at least it meant he wouldn't be escaping anytime soon.

"Tell me who you're working for." she demanded, pointing the gun between his eyes. When the man, although visibly shaking, refused her, she drew her foot back and kicked his injured ankle. A scream. And yet he still refused. Charlotte furrowed her brow, beginning to become annoyed. Who was good at torture? Or maybe they would have to save this one for later. Whichever one, they [i][b]were[/b][/i] going to get the information. A quick blow to the temple, and the man was out cold. Producing a ziptie from her pocket (those things were always handy to carry around), she bound the man before glancing around her. It looks like there was still some people to be taken care of.