strength. Through the small high window, the moon hung like a silent witness. Around 3:00 a.m., a drunk man was dragged in, his protests echoing.
Hank and Cody roughed him up unnecessarily before tossing him into a far cell. They paused to lear at the twins. “How are our FBI superstars doing?” Hank taunted, tapping his nightstick against the bars. continue reading …
