Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBHNDHQG3XRHR6C2150B74V

The van hummed softly in the alleyway, its engine idling like a nervous cat waiting for a treat. Molly adjusted the thermal goggles, squinting at the suburban house across the street. Balloons bobbed in the wind, tied to a fence post that looked suspiciously like a surveillance blind spot. Inside, the sounds of squealing children and a slightly off-key rendition of Happy Birthday drifted through the open window. The air smelled of vanilla frosting and impending chaos. "They’re cutting the cake right now," Bill whispered, leaning over the steering wheel. He wore a mask made of glittery paper fashioned from a birthday invitation. "This is it." Molly didn’t look at him. She focused on the blueprints spread across her lap, stained with coffee rings. "The cake is a distraction. The real loot is under the table, Bill." Bill asked, adjusting his glitter mask. It kept sliding down his nose. "The birthday boy," Molly said, tapping a specific spot on the map. "He’s seven. Seven is the age of disappointment. We need total extraction immediately." Bill nodded solemnly, though his eyes darted toward the open window where a slice of chocolate cake was being handed to a toddler. "Total extraction. Got it. What about the piñata, Molly?" "Leave the piñata," Molly commanded sharply. "It’s a trap. Sugar and sticks only." "Candy is for amateurs," Molly replied, checking her watch. "We go for the electronics. The tablets. The drones mostly." Bill sighed, deflating slightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a grappling hook made of licorice. "Put that away," Molly hissed. "We can’t have sticky hands. We need to be clean always." The music inside swelled as the parents began the dance floor rotation. Molly grabbed her bag, checking the contents. Lock picks, a crowbar, and a single party favor whistle. She looked at Bill. "Are you ready?" "Born ready," Bill said, though he was currently trying to untangle his glitter mask from his ear. "You’re not ready," Molly muttered. She opened the van door, stepping out into the cool night air. The grass was damp with dew, making the stealth approach slightly slippery. She signaled for Bill to follow, pointing toward the backyard gate. "Wait," Bill said, pointing at the gate. "There’s a guard dog." Molly squinted. It was a golden retriever wearing a party hat. "It’s asleep. And it looks like it just ate a whole bag of potato chips today." "Do you think it knows?" Bill asked, his voice trembling. "Dogs don’t understand theft," Molly said, stepping over the low fence. "They only understand treats. We don’t have treats here." "No way," Molly said firmly. "We have discipline now." They moved silently toward the sliding glass door. The reflection showed them looking very ridiculous, but the mission was clear. Inside, the presents were piled high like a treasure mountain waiting to be claimed. The security system was a simple timer, easily bypassed by the remote in Molly’s pocket. She checked the lock one last time before signaling Bill to move. The night was perfect for a heist, quiet and dark. They had practiced this for weeks, rehearsing every step. Now it was time to execute the plan without a single mistake. The children inside were distracted by the cake, unaware of the theft about to occur. Molly took a deep breath, ready to make the jump.