The plan was simple, which meant it should mostly hold up to the inevitable twists, turns, and blindsides that any plan encountered at random turns.
It also meant they had no idea what the fuck they were actually doing.
The biggest variable was how many would be on the team raiding BoP's headquarters. Saryam actually let herself look embarassed for not asking, for not realizing this detail hadn't been provided by her teacher.
Not a huge deal; Sarkiin and Saryam had experience fighting with and against squads as large as twenty-five or so, and Sarmene was, conveniently, specially trained in crowd control tactics and contersurveillance. Apparently she'd also accidentally developed a proclivity toward explosives.
"How do you accidentally get good at blowing things up?" Sarkiin thought the question was pretty reasonable, but their older sister just looked at them with an expression they could only interpret as Mind your own damn business, before slipping into what looked like a two-second-long private reverie.
There'd also be two extras: Pit and Flint, the latter of which, Sarkiin was elated and dismayed to learn, was Flendet's codename.
Of course they'd been the kind strangers he'd mentioned.
The whole plan would be made even easier by the element of surprise.
"The chance that T'fas knows I'm around is less than negligible," Sarmene proclaimed. "Otherwise, I'm pretty sure someone would've made a move on me. Probably even you two!"
T'fas and his cronies definitely had no idea that the Breath of the Phoenix had intentionally given away their location precisely so that they could lure T'fas and a few of his key players into a trap. The Breath didn't even have one central headquarters. Since they operate across most of the globe, it was easy peasy to establish multiple bases across a few different nations, and connect them with tunnels.
"We even have our own private fiber optic network, a network-wide courier service, and a chain of volunteer-run restaurants set up along our most heavily trafficked routes!"
Unfortunately, the site being used for this trap, dubbed The Forge, was a favorite among most of Breath of the Phoenix's ranks. A major factor keeping this plan from being a suicide mission for the whole organization was that they'd destroyed the tunnels and stripped it of anything crucial. There would be no returning to this place.
Sarmene was confident the trap would fail overall, but it should open the window of opportunity for a surprise attack pretty wide. That's just how these things always go when you try to trick your enemy. There's always something they know that you didn't know they knew; a spy snitch rat mole or some other kind of goofass with no sense of loyalty; a piece of the plan that fell apart right at the last second.
"Considering the potential of a double agent," Saryam posited, "how is it you can be so sure no one's alerted T'fas of your presence?"
"Oh, well, because I lied! Everyone at BoP thinks I'm laying low until the day you arrive. Which isn't entirely untrue, I guess," she shrugged. Officially, you two are not part of this plan. Flint's the only one who’s supposed to be here reconnoitering you. And he's been crazy about Kiki here since they were tikes, so I'm pretty sure he's not putting anyone in danger."
Sarkiin almost managed to will the blood from rising in their cheeks, but they'd trained their bodily functions too well and, in the end, those functions won out. Strength and self-mastery could also be curses, they supposed.
"He's really grown into himself, hasn't he, Kiki?" Sarmene nudged her sibling with her elbow and winked so many times it looked painful.
Saryam
"Please stop calling me that," Sarkiin whispered with all the composure in the world.
"Why not, Kiki?" Saryam joined in on the ribbing. "It really suits you!"
"And he's been talking about taking a break from the Breath after this mission. Y'all should go on a vacation together or something!"
To ensure minimal space for error, the Breath of the Phoenix decided to keep it as simple as simple gets: bury a buttload of mines around the base; wait for the enemy to approach; blow the ground out from under them; start shooting and slashing and engaging in whatever various violences suited the situation. Very few moving parts, no fancy gadgetry (the explosives would be rigged to one of those plungers that, until now, Sarkiin knew only existed in cartoons), lots of good ol' fashioned fighting.
"In the meantime, why don't we head back to yours? There's still a few days 'til we tuck that fucker T'fas in. I was hoping we could take some time to actually be siblings."
That, Sarkiin thought, was the best plan anyone had ever devised.