“Only your mouth.”
“If it doesn’t look like I’m dying and I say I’m fine, I fucking mean I’m fine.”
“Okay. That’s totally believable. If you need me, I’ll be over here, avoiding your grumpy ass,” said Gage.
Tristan couldn’t help himself. The annoyance got the better of him, and he said, “You gonna call Melissa and bitch about me?”
“The fuck did you just say?” Gage had gone utterly still, the tension creeping through his body.
“Oh yeah, that’s right. She won’t take your calls. I wonder what happened there?”
“Nothing,” he said between gritted teeth as he pivoted around to face Tristan. “She’s Slade’s sister. You know I would never be stupid enough to get involved in something like that.”
Something like that.... Interesting choice of words. He was trying to distance himself from her. Tristan had had a suspicion there was something between the two, but hadn’t confirmed it until right now. He decided not to push too much harder. He didn’t want to get into a physical fight; he just wanted Gage to back the fuck off. “Just letting you know that some things are more apparent than you think they are.”
“Well, just so you know—”
Before Gage could finish, Hunter came back into the room. “Stop bickering, ladies. We’ve got company.”
Tristan stood and rolled his neck, preparing himself for whatever was about to happen. He looked out the window at the black sedan that had pulled into the driveway. Three guys got out. A good number. One-to-one ratio. This would be easy to handle.
“How are you planning this?” asked Hunter.
“Hart is going to want us to go by the book as much as possible.”
“There is no book for this,” pointed out Gage.
“You know what I mean. Call the cops so that they start heading over. Report a break-in. If they catch them, Toni might be able to piggyback off their system to get a valid ID on these guys. And that will give us a few minutes to talk to them ourselves.”
A few minutes might be all they needed. The invaders didn’t use the front door. It was broad daylight, but they didn’t seem to care as they snuck around the porch until they reached the back door and looked into the large windows. Tristan and Gage both bent down so the kitchen counter would provide cover while Hunter stood behind the hallway wall. One of the guys worked on picking the locked back door, and Hunter made his move from behind the wall to behind the couch.
If the invaders had been paying any attention, they would’ve seen it, but they didn’t appear to be particularly great at their jobs. With a team of three, there were enough people to pick a lock, watch the interior of the house to see whether any of the homeowners were there, and watch the perimeter to see whether there were any witnesses around. These guys all just stared at the lock picker, willing him to work faster.
Good strategic thinking wasn’t easy to come by. You had to both be born with it and continuously improve upon what you have. It was like a muscle. If it wasn’t used often, you lost it. Tristan heard the bolts spring free, but he held his position for a moment longer. All three guys were outside now. If they sprung too soon, it would be too easy for the intruders to make a run for it. He counted the steps and listened intently until he made sure all three were inside the house. And then they made the mistake of closing the door behind them.
Without any communication, he, Hunter, and Gage moved at the same time. Hunter tackled the first one who came in; one arm wrapped around his back while his other hand grabbed the gun. The other two reached for their weapons but didn’t have time to draw them. Tristan and Gage were both holding their own guns out and ready and stared menacingly at the guys. Upon closer inspection, Tristan realized exactly how young these three were. No wonder they didn’t know what they were doing. He didn’t even know whether they were out of high school yet. “Think hard and fast about your next decision here, guys.” The two standing exchanged a look, but Hunter had the other kid face down on the ground so Tristan couldn’t see his expression. He decided to up the ante a little bit.
“My friend over here,” he motioned his head toward Gage, “is what we like to call a sharpshooter. That means that if either of you makes one move that makes me think, even just for a second, that you might be a threat, he’s going to put a bullet between your eyes. Not your shoulder, not in your gut, not your leg. Right for the head. He never misses, and he never leaves any survivors. So if you think you can take him, you just let me know right now. Otherwise, we have a few questions for you.”
Once all the perpetrators were on their knees and had their hands held up and placed on the back of their heads, it was time to get started. Tristan looked at his watch. It would only be a few minutes before the police got there. That would be all the time he’d need.
The intimidation act wasn’t Tristan’s favorite thing. It made him feel more like a terrorist than a con artist. But the same thing that made Tristan feel bad about it was what made it effective. This position made the kids think they could be shot in the head at any given time. The little tale he made up on the spot about Gage seemed to keep them well and truly terrified.
“Okay,” he said, taking the lead. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. Every time I think you’re lying to me, you’re going to be punished. Every time I know you’re lying to me, something is going to break. Now, I can break something with my hands. Or I can use a bullet to break bone. It’s my choice, really, and you won’t know which is coming at you until you’re screaming for mercy on the ground. These are your options, and they’re your only options. So you damn well better convince me.” He moved behind one of the guys. They all looked similar. Tristan had an inkling they might be brothers. The youngest barely looked old enough to drive, and the oldest probably wasn’t even in his twenties yet. He definitely wasn’t planning to shoot any of them, but he still wanted them to tell him the truth. He flicked the safety of his gun on before holding it up to the back of one of the kid’s heads. The kid’s arms shook with the effort of holding them up for that long. “Let’s start with you. What’s your name, son?”
“Ummmm...” the kid started in a shaky voice. “Anthony.”
“Well hello there, Anthony. Now, I’m not sure if you know, but this house is owned by a sweet, pretty woman who has basically never done anything wrong in her life.” Tristan saw Gage give him a questioning look, but he didn’t have time to tell Gage where he could stick it. “Now I want you to tell me exactly why you’re here.”