The four members of the team (that would be Abraham, LeForbes, Officer, and Skye, in case you forgot, grandma) were waiting outside impatiently for the clock to finally strike 12:00 midnight.
"Here's the plan, guys," Skye said as she unpacked hundreds of grenades, several large IEDs, and a handful of submachine guns (one submachine gun can fit into a hand), "We're going to go inside and use the oldest trick in the book."
"And what would that be?" Abraham asked calmly as he turned the last page in a British Literature textbook.
"Diplomacy," she responded, finalizing her arsenal with a sniper rifle and a scuba suit.
Several seconds had passed since Abraham and Skye's exchange, and LeForbes wanted to break the teeming silence.
"Who's gonna be the talker? I'm not good at negotiating with felons." he commented.
"I think the answer's pretty obvious, Officer's got a great handle on these kinds of things." Skye complimented.
"Thanks babe, I'll do my best." Officer grumbled, but in a romantic kind of way.
Abraham pulled out his Motorola Razr and took a snapshot of the moment, hoping to incorporate it into an album on his Friendster.
"Don't you have any modern technology, kid?" LeForbes asked.
"I'm older than you, LeForbes."
"That's right," LeForbes said as he remembered he was a teenager.
"It's almost time," Skye warned cautionally.
"Hey Skye, I went ahead and wrote down what I'm going to say to Angelique, see if it sounds good." Officer acquiesced.
"Sure." Skye leaned in to read it, and Officer took this opportunity to sniff her hair. It smelled like strawberries and cinnamon.
"This is good. I don't see how a gang of terrorists wouldn't respond positively to a well-written series of points like this. Good job."
Officer swooned in the absolute girliest way possible.
"We should get in position." Abraham thought, then said aloud.
"Good idea," Officer, Skye, and LeForbes sang in a 1st, 3rd, 5th major triad.
They each scooted three inches closer to the door.
TO BE CONTINUED BY JAKE "I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY" SMITH