"Sir."

Two men standing by at the door stepped aside to let the newcomer in. "This just arrived for you." A note, already opened, was slid across a sleek, mahogany desk.

"Is that so." Behind the desk sat at a solitary figure, one hand tracing the rim of a glass of brandy. "The payment?"

"Half taken care of. The money arrived even before we received the letter."

"My, my... someone is eager," said the man dryly. He picked up the piece of paper, reading the contents with narrowed eyes.

For about five full minutes, there was complete silence. The two guards and the newcomer stood waiting, tension thickening in the air.

Then another thirty seconds later, the paper was set down again.

"Hexton," he said finally. "What did I just read?"

"Oh, I think you understand very well, sir," said Hexton, the newcomer.

"What's the date today?" asked the man. "Someone might be thinking they're funny."

"It's far from April Fool's, sir," Hexton said. "We haven't had anything this exciting in forever."

"... Three candy makers with a sponsor," the man stated after yet another pause. "And another... candy maker."

"Not just any candy maker," Hexton said. "The guy who owns that big-ass chocolate factory, all the way over in—"

"I know who Willy Wonka is, thank you," the man snapped. "And for the record, so does every other goddamn person on this planet. You!" He pointed to one of the door guards. "Get Morano and Craisley on the line. I want news on that Albanian drug cartel." The guard left accordingly, leaving just three people inside the study.

"Does that mean we're not going to take this job?"

"Of course we are taking it," the man growled, downing the rest of his brandy. "Get those passports made—we're going to go visit a chocolate factory, Golden Tickets and all be damned. But most of us are staying close to our friends in Albania; I don't want the whole lot flocking over and causing a scene."

"Of course, sir," answered Hexton, rummaging through his pocket and pulling out a small, colorfully packaged square. He studied it nonchalantly, turning it this way and that. "It's really quite a pity, though. He does make some damn good chocolate." He unwrapped it and popped the candy into his mouth.

"Better start stocking up, then," the man retorted. "Because after we're through this, they'll be long gone off the shelves. These men—who were they again? Slugnose, er—"

"Prodnose, Fickelgruber, and Slugworth, sir."

"I'll need to have a talk with them as soon as we land, so I'll leave it to you to arrange the details of that meetup. Next, the full blueprints of that chocolate factory: mark down every single window visible from a maximum of six hundred yards away. I'll also need a comprehensive file listing every single one of Wonka's movements. Every single one, Hexton, and I mean it. Hell, if he even so much as scratches his nose I want to know about it, including when and where he does it. The sooner we understand his routine the faster we can wrap up and haul ass."

"Obviously, sir," Hexton replied, pouring himself some brandy into an extra glass. "Honestly, this isn't grade school. We've all done this before."

"I won't lie," the man said darkly. "Even for us, this job will be very dangerous. Low profiles, keep sparse and spread out, and use extreme caution. Am I clear, Hexton? There will be no mistakes made."

They were interrupted when a sharp ringing noise erupted from the telephone sitting on the desk.

"Hello," the man answered, picking up the receiver. "Yes, I know—really? More guns? Well, look, Morano—leave Craisley to supply the cartel. I want you out of that country at once, back to base. Oh yes, we do ... a task, as sweet as the most delicious chocolate ever made on this earth..."

Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved, as always!