Pierre watched carefully as the car pulled into the warehouse parking lot. The entire team was alert for trouble as the doors of the armored Westwind opened and the local mobsters stepped out. The Gianelli family had brought only five men, enough to show they took Martin and the Vitale family seriously, but not enough to be a challenge to the visitors.
Pierre shifted to astral sight to check out the Seattle boys. Bon, no-one magically active. We have the advantage if something goes wrong. Between his spells and the spirit patrolling outside, the Quebecois mage finally began to feel comfortable for the first time in a while.
He hated traveling away from Montreal. At least by air. It always made him nervous to fly that close to the stratosphere, and he got motion sick as well. At least if the deal went smoothly, he would be back to civilization soon. Disgusting food here.
The exchange was in full swing when the air spirit alerted him to a magically active observer on the roof. No way to tell if he was Gianelli or not, but either way it meant trouble. He tight-beamed a message to Martin and ordered the spirit to attack.
The blast of lightning from the elemental lite up the skylight like a torch, if only for a moment. Whoever it was, he remained well hidden as twin shots dropped Martin and one of the Gianelli goons almost immediately. The warehouse erupted into gunfire as the two groups of mobsters were unsure who was betraying whom. Pierre worked to protect his team from bullets and possible magical attack, while the others concentrated on finding cover and staying alive.
Both sides were badly injured by the time the Gianellis made it outside. That was when it became obvious that another player was in the picture. A burst of SMG fire staggered one of the Seattle enforcers, while two others ran off in different directions. A small explosion ended the chatter of SMG fire, and the local team made it’s escape.
The squeal of tires outside coincided with the dissolution of the air spirit, apparently disrupted by some attack. Merde! That damn thing was a bitch to summon…Well, better it than me. He moved to help load the rest of the crates back into the van. No one wanted to be in the warehouse when the police finally showed up.
So much for getting back to Montreal soon.