Molly adjusted the wire in her ear, crouching low behind the particularly dense rhododendrons. "Target acquisition?" she whispered. "Visuals confirmed," Bill replied, checking his watch. "The piñata is swinging at three degrees east. The bounce castle is fully inflated. Air pressure looks critical." "And the package?" "The mountain of presents? It’s beautiful. Shiny, sparkly, untouched. I see at least three unboxed gaming consoles and what looks like a pony. An actual live pony." "We skip the pony. It’ll ruin our exit velocity." "Right. No livestock. You think the lock on the back gate is rigged?" "I saw a Dad eyeballing it earlier. Probably got a booby trap. A tripwire connected to a sprinkler system." "Wet bandits scenario? That’s amateur hour." "Don’t get cocky. This is suburbia, Bill. These people have HOAs, they have passive-aggressive notes, and they have zero tolerance for trespassers. What’s your exit strategy?" "The minivan is idling around the corner. I’ve got the booster seats ready for transport." "Booster seats?" "We want to blend in, don't we? If we get pulled over with a sack of toys, we look like thieves. If we look like we’re just driving our own kids home, nobody bats an eye." "That’s actually brilliant." "I’m not just a pretty face. So, I grab the loot, you stun the juggler?" "I don’t pay you to stun jugglers, I pay you to grab. We hit the pile when they light the candles. The flash from the match will blind the security cameras." "What about the birthday boy? He looks like a biter." "Bring pacifiers. Just in case." "Pacifiers. Check." "Remember, we want the high-value items. No clothes. No socks. If it’s itchy or educational, leave it behind." "Understood. STEM toys only." "And Bill?" "Yeah?" "If anyone sees you... cry." "Cry?" "Like a little girl. Tell them you lost your balloon. It’s the ultimate camouflage." "I hate this job sometimes." "You love the payday. Move out." "Moving."