The two commandos step onboard the boat and deposit the hogtied boys next to the previous two already on the deck. They bump fists with the tall woman with binoculars and engage in some small talk as they store their weapons and tactical gear inside a hidden compartment on the floor, changing into the less conspicuous orange garments of a fishing crew.
"Hope these drones are worth the delay..." says the woman with binoculars as she inspects the new boys "And you only got two more?" she smirks, points at the woman with braids "Didn't you say you wanted a bonus?"
The woman with braids rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to speak before her partner interjects.
"Hey, give us a break, these were HARD to get!" she says removing her black and white face paint with a wet tissue "Our intel was wrong, again! So we had to improvise... Here, look!" she points at a purple stain in the skin under her eye, then at one of the boys on the floor, "That little shit wouldn't stay still!"
"Oh wow! He got you good!" says the woman with binoculars with a laugh, "Wait! Let me try to take a picture with this new thing..." she taps her temple, causing her pupils to light up with red circles.
The woman with the buzz cut snorts and turns away. She finishes removing her face paint and puts on glasses while under constant teasing by her two crewmates. Finally, she turns and stands awkwardly in place, but after some more teasing she starts posing, showing off her newest battle scar amidst the cheers of the other two women.
"So… Finish your story ..." says the old woman as she steps out of the boat's cabin, typing non-stop on the smartphone, "How did you subdue the drone in the end…?"
The three women immediately shut up and advert their eyes. The woman with the buzz cut hesitates before answering "S-standard procedure, Boss…! We disabled the house sensors and subdued the guardians, no casualties to report. Then we broke into the bedrooms and immobilized the drones, readying them for transport. No Taser or gas, just using our hands as we practiced..."
"Mm, mmmh..." muses 'The Boss' sliding the phone in her pants pocket and crouching near the tied kids on the floor. She pushes one of them to the side and pulls his Spiderman shirt up and his dotted pajama pants down, exposing a tiny penis and brown stomach with a nasty bruise below his navel. The boy squirms and yells harder against his mouth gag.
"T-that wasn't mine!" the woman with the buzz cut hurries to say, "He already had that! The guardians in that group home treated them like shit!"
"Relax, I believe you..." says the Boss with a bored voice as she reincorporates, leaving the boy in place with his midriff and groin exposed. She takes the phone out of her pocket and continues typing, "At least until we return to the mothership and test his swimmers. And if it turns out you busted a drone's nuts again, your next payment will be held in escrow until you get me three more to replace him." she looks directly at her, "Understood?"
"Y-yes Boss..."
"Good." she waves dismissive in their general direction, never stopping her typing "Now cut the chit-chat, lose the moorings, and get us ready for departure." she sniffles "We're late..."
She heads back to the cabin but then remembers something and turns back, "Oh and throw out the ballast. But ladies, if you will..." she raises her eyes off the screen and looks at each of the three women in sequence, "This time follow the procedure..."
"Yes, Boss!" the women chant in a chorus before scrambling around the vessel. Two of them release the boat's moors, while the third disappears below deck, reappearing moments later carrying yet another tied and gagged young boy over her shoulders. Only this one is older than the previous four, in his mid-teens, and completely naked except for the usual golden sack around his head.
She places the bound teen next to the new, younger boys already on the floor and walks below deck once again. The teen quickly notices the murmurs of the four boys struggling next to him and starts yelling against his gag trying to communicate with them, to warn them about something. The preteens stop their struggles and listen carefully to his muffled words.
The boat's engine coughs and roars loud as it comes back to life, swallowing his voice. The teen yells even louder, but then the woman returns and carries him away. The four boys start yelling against their gags.
She transports the teen to the other end of the deck and forces him to stand leaning against the boat's stern railing, then yells above the noise of the engine, "Wait here!"
The golden sack around the teen's head balloons and shrinks as his breath grows more agitated, his nude body already shining from sweat.
After what seems like an eternity, the golden sack is removed. He turns his face away when hit by the sunlight, blinks as his eyes refocus, and looks to his side where he discovers another naked teen boy leaning against the railing in a near-identical situation, with a ball gag in the mouth, wrists and ankles tied together, and looking just as blinded by the light.
They look at each other and frown, taking them a second to recognize their peer. They've seen each other's faces many times before, but never really interacted before this moment. A wry smile crosses their faces, thankful to not be alone in their predicament.
A mechanical clank in front of them, a sound so unique and distinct it rises above the engine's deafening noise. The teens turn and see the three women standing in front of them wearing white, featureless masks without slits for their eyes or mouths. More worrisome than the masks thou is the woman in the center holding an assault rifle which she lifts and aims at them.
The two nude teens squirm and close their eyes.
"Wait!" yells one of the women, remembering something. She whispers to the one aiming the rifle, who groans and drops her shoulders. She holsters the weapon and descends with angry steps below deck.
The two nude youngsters shake and tremble as they press themselves against the railing, terrified of her return. They throw pleading looks at the other women waiting in place but see no reaction from the masked figures. From inside the boat's cabin, the old woman watches the scene with a bored expression. She checks the hour on the smartphone, sighs, and continues typing.
The woman with the assault rifle finally reappears holding an empty 5-gallon water jug in each hand. She approaches the trembling teens and presses the plastic containers against their chests.
"Here!" she yells, "New procedure after the last one of you almost drowned! And remember, these zip ties dissolve in saltwater, but it takes a while!"
She smiles and pushes both teenage boys off the boat. They splash in the brown water below and panic when they resurface, trying to hold on to dear life to the empty water jugs, while the three masked women laugh and point at them, enjoying the spectacle of their struggle.
One of the teens finally manages to hold on to his jug, but in doing so he floats closer to the boat and grabs on to it for extra support. The woman with the assault rifle waves the weapon at him.
"Hey! No touchie!"
The teen jolts and swims away. They keep kicking and splashing until they seem able to keep their heads above the water. One of the women raises her hand with a thumbs-up.
The engine roars louder and the boat starts to move away. The three women cheer as they leave the boys behind, throwing air-kisses, yelling sexual innuendos, and waving them goodbye as the vessel navigates between the half-sunken houses.
Inside the cabin, the old woman holds the ship's wheel with a hand while typing on the phone with the other, her eyes darting between the screen and the water ahead.
She glances back at the two teens who are mere dots in the distance by now, holds her glance for a moment, and turns back around, her expression unchanged.
***