Gut check time, Denton thought to himself, Man up. bear down. Cowboy up. Time for the big boy pants. With a deep breath he took stock of his motivational phrases; that was indeed the extent of ones he knew and felt were applicable at that moment.

Based on the voices, now quietly arguing with one another in an indiscernable tongue, he knew where they were. From the sound of her voice, he knew the woman was surely their prisoner. In light of previous history, he knew this was not going to go well.

Ignoring that last point and praying to as many gods of whom he could think, Denton aimed his non-company issue tazer into the darkness. The mechanism twanged as it launched the probes. A man screamed, “My eye!” followed quickly by the rapid clacking of electricity flowing, at which point the scream morphed into an unintelligible, high-pitched squeal of exquisite agony.

That seemed as good a moment as any, so Denton charged, flinging himself into the shadowy figures, bringing all three of them to the floor.