Molly and Bill huddled in the shadows at the back of the dimly lit bar, their eyes glued to the screen of Bill's laptop, where aerial footage of the Bowman's mansion was playing. "Alright, so the main entrance is heavily guarded, but there's a side gate, over there." Bill drew a circle on the map. "Broken locks, and we could easily jimmy it open. Hidden camera, unfortunately." "Jesus, the Bowmans don't play around, huh?" Molly snorted. "What about the windows? Any unlocked ones?" "There's one, but it's on the second floor. We'd need a way up," Bill mused, his finger tracing a line up. "Fortunately, there's a giant oak tree a few feet away, ripe for climbing, and once inside the girl's room, we can descend to the party room below." "Isn't the whole point of the heist to avoid detection?" Molly asked, studying the map. "Climbing a tree with a spotlight right beneath it seems like drawing a bullseye on our backs." "We've got night vision goggles," Bill countered with a wry grin. "Haven't invested all that time in that rock-climbing course for nothing, have we?" "Touché." Molly nodded. "What about the presents?" "Well, there'll be an elf distributing them. We can cap him with the stun guns, make it look like a faulty present went off. The kids will scatter, and we'll be their heroic rescuer. The rest is history." "Nice, but our getaway. The cameras—" "Already thought of that. The Bowmans have a fleet of expensive vintage cars parked at the back. Think we could sell the GTO for some good cash and discreetly ride out in it, with the presents sealed in the trunk." "We steal back the presents by stealing their car?" Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Now, that's ironic." "Who's going after the elf?" Bill's question reverberated. "You. You're more agile," Molly replied with a shrug. "I'll handle the presents. We just need to make sure the music goes off right when we act." "So, play dress up as musicians, and in walks Molly the maraca-playing madame." Bill chuckled. "Dress code: anything that can hide a stun gun." "You make it sound so easy." A teasing smile spread on Molly's face as she wrapped her fingers around a cocktail straw all of a sudden, spinning it. "It will be, Molly. It's all about the timing. We've got to know our roles, own them, and stick to the plan. Remember, we're stealing from a bunch of hyper little-kids, ease up." She scoffed and sipped her drink. "You're starting to sound like Dickensian philosophy." "Second only to Charles Dickens himself, my dear." Bill bantered back, letting his playful tone grow deeper. "You know I have a soft spot for Victorian literature. Anyway, we're mere days from the job. You should get in costume, recon the locale, and get some intel on routines." "You actually read more than thief manuals?" Molly's eyes widened. "You know what I'll need, right? Nothing too girly. I want something that'll blindside unsuspecting elves." "Don't worry, babe. I'm good at costumes. Check this"—and with that, Bill displayed a mockup of a tuxedo butler's uniform—"you can hide a small arsenal in that thing." Molly's laughter rumbled through her chest, "Perfect. One does not simply steal from a kids' party in a candy-striped dress." "Speaking of skills, we mustn't forget our distractions. Jenny, the clown, will suffice, don't you think?" Bill winked. "Jenny? Bummed out clown who gets high off her own disappointment? She fits, but plan B is key." "Miami," Bill enigmatically stated. Molly fixed him with a steely gaze. "Miami," she repeated incredulously. "The remote-controlled toy one—in case all fails, we could create a stampede of terrified children." Bursting into laughter, Bill covered his face. "Merry Christmas, Bowmans. Hope your magnum opus doesn't turn into Fyre Festival." Molly winked and raised her glass. "Here's to redemption from our last disastrous heist." Bill clinked his glass against hers. "And the possibility of fistfuls of Tickle Me Elmo prizes," she added, draining her drink. "Oh, the anticipation—crime can't get any jollier." Bill sipped, before clicking the laptop shut. "Now, let's dig up solid intel, and remember: silence, stealth, and swiftness." Molly patted his shoulder, "Just like a good Christmas carol, Bill. Now, you focus on the technicalities, and I'll handle the covert." Leaving the bar, blending in with the crowd, Molly's glee was a mix of excitement and nervousness, and she couldn't wait for the heist. Sneaking, crawling, and stealing had been their forte - making this easy for them, despite the complications, only built the thrill. And so, with scene set, they both prepared for December's most-awaited heist, a party none of the Bowman’s guests would ever forget.