Vecto turned around, aggravated. Crysilis spun hastily, searching the crowd for the thief. It was Streamline's prized possession-something they wouldn't even dare tease him about.

A woman, an old man, a child. No, it didn't appear to be them. Crysilis and Streamline sifted through the busy crowd, briskly looking at the myriad of faces flashing by.

Deciding to help out to speed the process, Vecto levitated into the air. His eyes, or simply his shield, locked on to a figure in a trench coat casually walking with the flow of traffic. He zoomed in to see the impression of a gun's nozzle sticking out from the coat. The diameter and shape of the impression matched Streamline's rifle. And the culprit: it was the guy he had bumped into!

"Two o'clock," Vecto said loudly enough for Crysilis and Streamline to hear as passersby glanced around to see what was happening. Streamline ran that direction, and Vecto patched a comlink to him and Crysilis.

"Wearing a black trench coat, 5-10, Caucasian, brown hair, around 17," Vecto said through comlink as he floated back down.

"Hey you, kid!" Streamline yelled as he pushed over some people to get to him. The kid looked back and immediately donned a mask with a slit for his eyes before running.

"Come back here, you little punk!" Streamline yelled, chasing after him.

The kid was nimble, slithering through the crowd. He quickly spun over a rail and dropped to a lower level twenty feet below. He ran for a nearby building.

Streamline took the upper route. He ran on the edge and leaped down, crashing to the surface in heavy armor. There-he saw the kid running up a set of moving steps, toward the building's entrance. Streamline ran up the steps and through an entrance field that blocked outside weather but not people. As he passed through the weapon's detector field, a beeping alarm sounded. Streamline assumed the kid had a weapons cloaking device and wished he had one. He glanced around the open-spaced, 36-foot-high room but couldn't see the kid. There was a crowd, and the kid could easily blend in.

"Excuse me, sir," a security guard said.

Streamline didn't have time for a weapons check. He pulled out his Turbo Blaster and fired a shot in the air. "Everyone, get down!" he yelled. People screamed, ran for cover, and ducked to the ground. But the thief didn't. He ran up the stairs to the balcony. "I've got you now," Streamline said to himself and activated his jetpack. His boosters flared, and he flew to the balcony level and landed in front of the masked man.

Streamline grabbed him by the arm and slammed him against the nearest wall. "Hand it over, kid!" he yelled. When no reply came, Streamline pushed the thief against the balcony handrail, then paced toward him, his Turbo Blaster aimed and ready.

At that moment, the building's alarm system blared. This distraction gave the kid time to unsling a wire from within his coat and fling it toward Streamline. Before Streamline could react, the wire had wrapped itself around Streamline's gun and arm. The thief, meanwhile, had secured the other end of the wire to the balcony rail. Streamline was tethered like a dog at the end of a leash.

The kid looked at Streamline's aged battle armor and mused at how he bested a decorated soldier. "Later, old man!" The kid laughed as he ran off.

"Why you . . . !" Streamline yelled, trying to yank his arm free. But the wire was unbreakable. Cursing, he pulled out his Disrupter Pistol and pointed it at the back of the fleeing kid. He had a clear shot. Yet he didn't shoot.