Nate, wearing an expensive dark suit, slid out of a silver sedan. It was the first time Arena had seen him dressed up since imprisoned. He carried a metal briefcase and strolled into the decayed warehouse without glancing around. Dusk was falling, dusting everything in orange and yellow.

  “Mission is a go, Cyclone.”

  “Confirmed,” she responded. “Target in view.”

  “Roger, Catalyst,” came Bertha’s voice. “I’m positioned in the first-floor office.”

  Arena crouched on a darkened catwalk of the building, the board sandwiched between her and the wall. Sterling painted the hoverboard to look like an extreme sport prototype, somewhat the cross between a surfboard and a skateboard. They had added magnetic foot straps, and customized the bottom of her shoes to attract the magnets. The math of that didn't really math for her, but whatever Sterling had done had worked in testing. The hoverboard was still much larger than a skateboard, but they were unable to change the shape of the board.

  “The other target has arrived.” Lorna appeared from a blue convertible, wearing a red button down couture coat, black leggings and black knee-high boots. It was the most ordinary outfit Arena had seen Lorna wear. Dark sunglasses hid her face, and she carried a black leather briefcase. All she needed was a small dog.

  “Let’s get this over with,” said Lorna in a haughty Upper East Side accent as she entered the building. “I hope you have the item?”

  “I do.” Nate turned on his full charm, smiling and leaning toward Lorna, glancing at her case. “I expect you have the cash to purchase it?”

  “Of course,” she said, and she opened the case to reveal what looked like real money. Arena blinked. Nate propped his case on a rickety table, but the back of the case obstructed her view of the object.

  “Go, Cyclone,” said Bertha.

  Arena ran halfway down the ramp and leaped, the board in her hand. This better work, she thought. Slipping the board under her feet, the magnets connected to her back foot. The board rose to five feet over the ramp. She wobbled for a few seconds. When she stabilized, she pushed the accelerator and zipped toward them, snatching Nate’s case from the table.

  Arena grinned. Then she zipped out the giant door with the case in hand.

  “Beautiful, Cyclone.” Sterling let out a long breath. “They weren’t expecting that. Never seen Nate move that slowly.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her heart stuck somewhere between her tonsils. She wanted him to keep talking, wrapping his voice around her.

  Bertha shouted, Arena heard a car engine. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Nate and Lorna in the convertible behind her, with Lorna driving. Peering into the case, she saw there was a box of cereal pushed into foam. It wore a taped note that stated ‘Don’t spill me.’ Arena laughed and snapped the case closed, trying to lock it while keeping her balance on the board.

  More engine sounds joined the fray, and Arena looked back to see Bertha on her motorcycle, parallel to Nate and Lorna. A white van swerved behind them, the Decoys. Cracks sounded, shots from the cap guns they had agreed to use for the practice mission.

  Lorna sped up, nearly behind her to the left. Bertha was on the opposite side of them.

  “Give me the case!” yelled Nate, brandishing a cap gun. Arena crouched and placed more pressure on the speed control.

  “Keep it steady,” said Sterling. “You need to get to the next building.”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Right as she got to the building, a more modern warehouse than the first, a keening sound filled her ears and she was suddenly dizzy. The board slowed against her will. She crouched and held on the board with one hand as she pushed the release on her foot with the other, the board swimming in her vision.

  “They’ve got some sort of disruption device,” said Bertha on the comm. “Cyclone is affected.”

  “Cyclone, put in your other earphone!” Sterling sounded frantic. She popped her foot from the magnet, and dropped to the ground, plucking the board from the air and taking off at a run. Fumbling in the inside of her vest, she couldn’t find it. Nausea started to overtake her, and she stumbled, dropping off the board and onto her knees.

  Several men stepped out in front of her, none of them recognizable.

  “This might be easier than we expected, boys,” said one of the men.

  Bertha bellowed at them to get down.

  “What, with your cap guns?” said another, and they all laughed. “We’ll just take that board and be off.”

  “We’ve got interference, Catalyst,” she said.

  “I see them. Practice mission over—all on the same team now.”

  “Confirmed.” Anita and Lorna’s voices at the same time.

  A blur shot past Arena and resolved into Nate, who slammed into the man in front. Arena managed to find her other earplug and shoved it into her ear clumsily. The nausea stopped.

  “Get that board back to the van, Cyclone,” said Sterling. She picked up the board, but several of the men were slipping around Nate and coming towards her. Bertha punched one in the face. Arena scrambled up, and dragged the board backward. She jumped on it, but nothing happened.

  “Whatever they have, it’s disabled the board.” She said on comm.

  Bertha maneuvered her way over to the man with the gadget, slipped on some sort of brass knuckles, and punched toward his hands, but missed. He tried to back away, but she grabbed his arms and made contact with the gadget. A flash of sparks rained between them, and the light on the gadget fizzled.

  Arena hopped on the board and it rose. Three men ran at her. Others ran behind the building, and engines rumbled to life. Thankfully, the board activated with the weight of a rider much faster than it dropped without one.

  Looking back, she saw a green truck and several men on motorcycles. Lorna and Nate were in the convertible behind the truck, and Bertha was on her motorcycle off to one side.

  Shots rang out. She whipped around a corner as closely as she could and across a street. The warehouse across the street had an open door. She zipped into it, crouching to avoid the top. Tires squealed and doors slammed.

  Arena flew through the warehouse, trying to get out of view. The warehouse had been empty for some time, and there was little inside but litter. She angled up a ramp and across the catwalk into an adjoining room.

  Sounds of fighting came through the comms, screams and grunts combined with loud cracks.

  “I took two of them down,” shouted Nate. “There are still four. Goldilocks is fighting one, and Deadeye another.”

  “One more down,” said Bertha.

  “Cyclone, do you read?” Sterling sounded anxious.

  “Yes, I’m in a warehouse, trying to get out of view. I’m not sure what’s happening.” She flew down one ramp and toward a door. Another car pulled up and two men got out and ran toward her. There was no other entrance in the room. She whipped around and went back up the ramp. Another man was running toward her from that direction, his feet clanging on the metal.

  “I’m blocked in!”

  “Hang on, Cyclone!” Lorna wheezed on the comm.

  “Give me the board!” shouted the man on the catwalk. The two others were coming behind her.

  Arena snapped both feet into the magnets and angled over the railing straight off the catwalk, dropping rapidly, right next to where Nate, Bertha, and Lorna were fighting one man, the rest laying scattered on the ground.

  Nate sprinted toward her. She crouched and popped the button for the magnets, then hopped off the board. The men from the other room ran down the ramp toward them. Nate took up a position between her and them.

  “Goldie is down!” shouted Lorna in the comm. Arena cast a glance behind her, and saw Lorna circling the man, while Bertha lay on the ground unconscious.

  One of the other men met Nate’s foot in an uncongenial greeting. The other took a wide berth around them and went straight for Arena.

  She waited until he got close enough, then leaped on the board. It rose and she kicked straight out at his face. Foot contacted flesh, but he swatted her foot away. She was afraid to lock her feet to the magnets in case he gained control of the board or grabbed her, so she swung underneath the board and stomped down on his feet as he reached over it for her. He screeched. Arena planted her feet on the ground, waited for the board to drop, then used the momentum to swing it into his face. He collapsed.

  Panting, she realized only one man was left. Nate planted his foot in the man’s chest and he flew back and crumpled to the ground.