My two cents may be late. I'm thinking what would GEORGE SMILEY do? Act totally conquered. Ask if the dog needs water/food. Offer tea. Send out for lunch. Get them to make a mistake. Maybe slip a message out via the delivery boy.
And now the Russian Mafia is sitting in my protagonist’s living room, and he doesn’t know why, and to be frank nor do I, he doesn't know how to get rid of them, and nor do I, now it seems the Mafia is writing my story, and I’ve bitten off way more than I can chew with this puppy, and I’m about to throw the keyboard in the air, I'll be bold by the end of the month, Happy Friday everyone. Rant over. Back to writing.
So much for my plans for some writing and reading today. I've just spent ages at the front of my house, trying to stop a fight from breaking out between my neigbours. Then we all had a gossip ... Righty, now back to it. To the reading and writing, I mean.