Countdown

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?”

Two figures shrouded in shadow commiserate in the storefront window, their faces were covered and in their hands sitting several packages of various sizes. It was a tumultuous week for them, it had taken months of planning behind the scenes, to prepare for this day. Their target was oblivious to their plot, and while they had enough time to talk without being interrupted, the two had jokingly nicknamed their scheme “B-Day,” a morbid play on the storming of Normandy. When it was unavoidable, they enjoyed talking about “The Day” in front of their target, snickering in secret as they looked on in confusion before shaking their head and leaving.

However, today they would see their efforts pay off. Once they had gathered and paid for their supplies, with bags under their arms, the two people sauntered out, heading toward their base of operations. It was where everything would go down, once the right preparations were made. It took several hours of diversion, along with a few sweet deals to other characters to keep the target distracted, but finally, it was ready.

They waited with bated breath as they hid in the dark lair, the heavy thud of footsteps and keys jingling signalling their target’s return. They counted down the seconds, air heavy with tension. Three… two… one…

“Happy birthday!”