Mika and Romana had managed to dodge Popovich’s advances and keep their skimpy clothing on; however, Mika could see the man was frustrated and wanted the merchandise he was promised. If his temper was anything like Marta had described, the situation was going to deteriorate, rapidly. If he struck Romana, Mika would be powerless to quell her teammate’s anger. They had been in the house for more than fifteen minutes. Where the hell are they? She decided to buy them a few more minutes.
Mika sauntered to the foot of the bed, where she danced in place like a stripper in a men’s club. She had the pig’s attention. Her plan was to give him a strip tease, hoping not to have to take anything off, however. After a few minutes and no Natasha or Hardy, she reached around behind her and unhooked her bra. She danced around a little more, while slowly sliding one of the straps over her shoulder, followed by the second strap, a minute later. Covering her bare breasts with the unfastened bra in her hands, she whipped her head toward the sound of gunfire. Seconds later, the guard posted outside the bedroom—he had been watching the show through the gap between the door and the doorframe—rushed into the room.