Molly leaned against the brick wall, her eyes fixed on the Target Kids' party spread out before her like a colorful puzzle. Bill slouched beside her, his eyes scanning the crowded hall with a mixture of apathy and excitement. "Okay, what's the plan?" Bill asked, his voice low and even. Molly's grin faltered for a fraction of a second before she straightened again. "We sneak in through the air ducts. They don't think anyone comes through those." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You've been studying the blueprints?" Molly nodded. "Yeah, I have. I figured it would be the best way to avoid the security cameras and, you know, no one getting hurt." Bill snorted. "That's a cop-out. What about the guards?" Molly shrugged. "Too many to count. They're all drinking and having a good time. We can grab the presents and make a quick exit." Bill snickered. "Not if we have any kids who're really invested in getting one over on the Smiths." Molly frowned, her expression darkening. "That was the point. We can leave a trail of clues to throw him off the scent." Bill's grin returned, wider than she'd seen all day. "Exactly! We'll leave a little somersault in the cereal box, a faint scent of sugar and cookies in the bathroom... that'll guarantee they'll think it was a family crisis." Molly shook her head, laughing despite herself. "You're ridiculous." The door to the adjacent inflatable castle swung open, admitting a chorus of children squeals as a birthday party erupted around them. Molly and Bill exchanged a look, and then turned to make their move. One last stop: the craft table, where they intended to hide a few presents for any desperate children who might stumble upon them. Molly rummaged through the supplies bag and pulled out a wad of playdough, while Bill grabbed a handful of cookies from the cookie jar. "Time to bring out the big guns," Bill said, jamming the playdough into their pocket-sized backpack. Molly grinned mischievously. "Oh, this is going to be fun." As they slinked quietly out of the craft table and melted into the crowd, Molly whispered to Bill, "Not to get us caught. On those drones, for goodness sake." Bill barely batted an eyelash. "Got it." They moved smoothly through the party, dodging kids and toys, until they reached the front door. Bill produced a small pistol from his backpack and pulled out a set of lockpicks. Hand over hand, they worked the key into the lock. The creak of the door swung open with a satisfying click.