Molly adjusted the high-powered binoculars, squinting through the tinted lenses despite the harsh afternoon sun and the glare reflecting off the newly manicured lawn. The suburban yard looked deceptively peaceful, save for the air smelling aggressively of wet balloons, spilled juice boxes, melted candles, and cheap lawn furniture polish. Bill was fidgeting with a pair of oversized sunglasses, looking ridiculous even by underworld standards. He tapped the clipboard like it was a detonator, highlighting a cluster of particularly heavy cardboard boxes near the inflatable bouncy castle. That fortress of latex and nylon was currently deflating in slow motion, creating a sad tumbleweed effect across the grass. The parents were arguing loudly over the final check, completely oblivious to the danger lurking behind the pine trees. The chaos level was rising, creating a perfect, messy window of opportunity. Molly didn't respond. She was analyzing the line of sight to the main table, calculating the precise trajectory of their first grab. They moved in sync, Bill a ghost in a beige raincoat, Molly a blur in stealth pajamas. As they approached, a helium balloon popped with a sharp sound. Molly froze, staring at the ceiling fan like it was a high-speed projectile, and then at the pile of expensive electronics across the table. "Secure the electronics first. We want the high-value targets." "Copy." They scrambled, grabbing the shiny gifts as the bouncy castle finally collapsed into a heap of despair, leaving the toddlers to wonder where their fun went while the getaway vehicle revved in the driveway.