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“Did Yetski forget to pay the power bill?” a third man whines, completely unfazed.
Idiot.
Tomer and Shep exchange hand signals. Our team will move to the living room to subdue those three, and the others will hit the kitchen. Junior comes in from the bathroom near the kitchen.
In a flash, we split up, each tackling a tango.
The man facing me grabs his gun, but since his eyes haven’t adjusted to the blackout, I swat it away and seize his wrists, wrenching them painfully. A quick knee to his groin is followed by a kick to his lower leg, sweeping it out from under him. I’m on his back a second later, one knee pressing on his spine.
Once his wrists are secured in thick zip ties, I pull out some rope to secure his legs to his bound wrists. He’s fighting me, as you’d expect, but Aaron is there to assist a second later, having already secured his guy.
He got lucky since he took out the tango whose dick was out. Literally.
I work expeditiously, stripping him of his cell phone and weapons. He had a pocketknife in his pants. I locate the gun I swatted away and tuck it into my waistband. Last thing we need is for someone to get hurt because a frightened girl grabbed a gun. Fear makes people irrational. And these girls were already terrified before we got here.
The team calls out statuses.
“One tango secure in kitchen,” Shep calls.
“Another secure in living room,” I announce next.
“Two tangos from kitchen secure,” Jonesy sounds off.
“Two more secure in living room,” Tomer answers for Aaron and himself.
“That’s all six,” Junior calls, standing between the kitchen and living room, monitoring both our groups.
“Weapons and cell phones secure?” Mia asks.
Everyone responds in the affirmative.
“You two, do a sweep,” Tomer orders, pointing Aaron to the east side and Shep to the west side of the house.
At least he didn’t use their names in front of the tangos.
“Shh,” I tell the girls gathered in the corners of the living room, most of them huddled together. “Stay calm. We’re here to rescue you. You’re safe now. We’re the good guys.”
Mia provides an update from the con. “No calls to the cops. Nothing on sat imagery. No alarms coming through that I can detect. Someone, do a scan for silent alarms.”
“On it,” Jonesy answers, then quickly walks around the room with his signal detector out, checking for radio frequencies that would imply panic alarms were tripped.
“Lettie!” Tomer wails, panic and desperation coating his voice as he whips his head around to study the faces of the girls behind us.
“Team, are all tangos subdued? Can I restore power?” Mia asks.
“East side clear of tangos,” Shep answers.
“West side clear. Only more girls,” Aaron adds.
Not seeing her in the living room, Tomer bolts toward the kitchen. “Lettie, are you in here?”
“Turn the lights on,” I instruct Mia, assuming Violet will be more apt to come forward if she can see us.
“Copy,” Mia responds.
The power flickers on three seconds later.
Attempting to calm the traumatized women, I lift my mask and meet their terrified eyes while keeping my face hidden from the tangos. None of the girls resemble Lettie.
