The front of the house was quiet on this muggy July afternoon, but Molly knew the target was in there. Her keen eyes scanned the lone white pickup truck in the driveway before the words found their way out of her mouth. "Do you see the target?" Molly asked, wasting no breath between questions. "I see the target," Bill replied, looking through the scope of his long-range rifle. "He's alone." Molly let the silence take over her aloud while she watched him. Molly and Bill had been working as long as Molly and Bill had been together. Molly was never the kind to talk, but Molly was also never the kind to get out of the way when it mattered most. There was a slight breeze hearing them as they moved up the stairwells. Molly stepped forward from the stairwell and looked back at where he entered the building. She could feel Bill's eyes on her from behind her but she didn't bother to acknowledge him until he made the first move. At that moment Molly knew she could snatch what they needed. Without a word she walked past her up the final stairwell. Molly entered through the open door, her soft leather boot in view as he looked up to meet her. Unexpected footsteps echoed through the stairwell, both Molly and Bill realizing it was too late to back out. Molly was the first to fire her gun. Bill ducked to the side and began firing at the advancing figure, catching him in the chest. The man crumpled to the ground, bleeding heavily from the bullet wound in his chest. Molly cursed under her breath and ran toward the injured man, putting an end to the hunt. Now was the moment to act. The heist was on.