Molly tapped a crudely drawn map spread across the dashboard. “Okay, let’s sync our watches.” “Mine has a little spaceman on it,” Bill said, holding up his wrist. “The second hand is a rocket ship. Is that a problem for the magnetic fields?” “There are no magnetic fields, Bill. It’s a garden party.” “You can’t be too careful. What’s the schematic?” “It isn’t a schematic, it’s the party invitation. Timmy’s mom drew it. X marks the presents.” Bill squinted. “This X is next to something labeled ‘Bouncy Castle of Doom.’” “That’s our cover. The adults will be distracted by the sugar-high children and the imminent threat of a sprained ankle. We go in during the cake-cutting.” “Prime chaos window. I like it. What’s my alias?” “You’re Uncle Jeff. You look vaguely like an Uncle Jeff.” “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Señor Fiesto, International Party Inspector.’ It has flair.” “You don’t speak Spanish and your only prop is a half-eaten bag of crisps.” “They’re salt and vinegar. Very exotic.” “You’re Uncle Jeff,” Molly insisted. “You’re looking for the loo and you get lost.” “Lost where?” “In the dining room. Where the gift pile is.” “Right. And you?” “I’m with the catering company. I’ll cause a distraction near the juice dispenser.” “What kind of distraction? A big one? Like an explosion?” “No, Bill. Not an explosion. I’m going to ‘accidentally’ knock over the entire tray of fairy bread. The glitter and sprinkles will be everywhere. It’ll be a glitter-based flashbang.” “Tactical. Genius. But won’t they notice us taking a sixty-pound box containing the Galactic Fortress playset?” “That’s what the empty cake box is for. We slide the loot in there, put the lid on, and walk out like we’re taking home a slice for Grandma.” “Whose grandma?” “Any grandma! It’s a generic, believable grandma!” Bill nodded slowly, processing. “Okay. So I’m Uncle Jeff, I get lost looking for the loo, find the presents, you cause a tactical fairy bread incident, and we exfiltrate the Galactic Fortress via a decoy cake box. What if someone talks to me?” “Just say you’re a friend of the family and ask them where the loo is.” “But I’m supposed to be Uncle Jeff. Shouldn’t I know them?” “He’s the weird uncle from out of town. The one they never see.” “Oh, I can do that,” Bill said with a sudden confidence. “I’ve been practicing. Want to see my weird uncle walk?” “Absolutely not. Just get the presents, Bill.” “You got it. For the score.” “For the ten-year-old client who’ll pay us in video games.” “Right,” Bill said, patting his pockets. “For little Johnny. He deserves that Galactic Fortress.” Molly just sighed. “Let’s go. It’s cake time.”