"Barrel Dragon! No!"
Desperately reaching out, the success of her mission hung by a thread. And so did she. Her head pounded. Worry, fear, rage, some unidentifiable force driving her to insanity, all writhed through her mind as she watched the card flutter away in the wind. She ran, abandoning her chase, to the railing edging the overhead footpath. Her hood fell back, and her violet hair flew out behind her. She hopped the railing and reached out, desperately. The card was out of reach. And now she was falling. She grabbed hold of the railing and dangled, shocked.
"Barrel Dragon… Come back…"
The man she had been running down escaped into an alley.
"Calista. Return to base."
Calista, buffeted by the wind and tears streaming down her cheeks, ripped the transceiver from her ear and threw it vengefully away. They could talk to static for all she cared. She looked up. Her grip on the rail was firm, but if she just loosened it a little bit, just let go, she could… Fat lot of good that would do. Glaring, she scrambled up and vaulted back over the railing. She ran down the footpath to where her duel runner was parked. The thing was small and thin, built for speed and maneuverability. It could travel through places a number of other runners could not. It was nearly black, and decorated, edged, in blue and bits of green. Anyone who knew the traditional face of the Barrel Dragon card would recognize the theme for sure.
Calista climbed onto the runner and pulled on the conventional, colour matched helmet. Her duel disk had been left attached, so all she had to do was start the engine and push off. She sped down the narrow side road, following the direction of the wind. She expected to be out all night. Or maybe longer. She would be out until she found Barrel Dragon.
The monitor of her runner began to blink, and a new window came up. Calista sighed. That would be Sir calling her. She answered, and the black window flickered onto live video.
"Calista." The firm, calm voice of her handler came into her helmet. "Lazar tells me you ignored him."
Calista grunted. "Yes, Mister Director, Sir. I'm busy."
Sir did not seem particularly displeased. "The target?"
"Escaped. I'll report back when I'm done."
"Now, Calis-"
Calista hung up on him. She would face Sir later. Right now, her sole care was finding Barrel Dragon.
She shot through the streets, constantly searching from left to right. She had to find him. She had to. She had to find him. Nothing else mattered during those agonizing hours. She would normally have raised her visor, let the wind dry her eyes, forcing her to squint or even ride blind. But she had to find him. She needed her eyes.
Hours. Torturous hours. She rushed through the streets. It was late, long past midnight. There was almost no one out to maneuver around or run over. This was good. There were fewer people around to take her Barrel Dragon.
Seven forty eight that morning, Calista lugged herself into her handler's office. She had caught Barrel Dragon just a block away, outside a bar. She had wanted to go in, but the moment she laid hand on Barrel Dragon, fear of Sir and his hidden rage finally hit her. Staring at her feet, she waited patiently for him to turn.
He didn't. She would have to face his back.
"Calista. Did you find your dragon?"
"Yes, Sir." Her voice was soft.
"Good."
Calista looked around, slowly. Lazar was nowhere to be seen. A relief. The clown was aggravating. Sir turned around.
"The target has escaped us entirely." Sir was not smiling. But he did not seem angry. "I have a new job for you."
Calista's heart thumped. This would be punishment, for sure.
"I want you to pick something up for me."
Calista sighed. Not punishment, just boring. "Yes, Sir." Her eyes lost the little light they had gained that night. Her expression had turned empty, and grave. An expression that, if encountered in a dark alley, would terrify.