Molly squinted through the binoculars at the suburban house, where a dozen six-year-olds were attempting to pin a tail on what appeared to be a deformed donkey. Bill sat beside her in the van, methodically sorting through their equipment: rope, grappling hooks, and inexplicably, a clown nose. "The mother just brought out the piñata," Molly reported. "Target acquisition in T-minus twenty." "Copy that, Eagle Eye." She lowered the binoculars. The presents formed an impressive mountain beside the bounce house, wrapped in paper featuring cartoon dinosaurs and glittery unicorns. Their intel suggested at least three gaming consoles and a motorized mini Mercedes. Bill adjusted his ski mask, which he'd insisted on wearing despite the ninety-degree weather. Sweat pooled beneath the wool as he checked his watch. "Remember, we go in during cake time. Maximum distraction." "What if they offer us cake?" "We're professionals, Molly. No cake." A child's shriek pierced the air as the piñata exploded. Candy scattered across the lawn like shrapnel. Bill's hand trembled on the door handle as thirty tiny hands scrambled for the sugary loot. These kids were more ruthless than they'd anticipated. Molly cracked her knuckles. Phase one was complete. The sugar rush would hit soon.