The group gathered in the lobby of the warehouse, fluorescent light inconstant next to a long-empty soda machine. Upon entering, the new Blaster had taken off around the corner. The trio of Tsoo standing guard took little notice of the slight rush of air as Souls raced past. Junk hovered in the entryway above them, counting the groups situated down the corridor.
"I hate sorcerers," muttered the Blaster from above. "Crazy old men, give you the creeps by getting into your head so you can't move…" He glanced down at Mori, who had fixed him with a Look and 'hmphed' loudly. "What? What did I say?"
Before she could answer, Sang put up a hand. One of the guards had gotten a little too close for comfort and had begun to squint into the darkness. The tanker nodded once, giving the go-ahead to Junk. One shot from above sent the guard sprawling, Mori racing up to fasten the ziptie about his wrists and activate the transport disk. As the unconscious figure faded out in a slow teleport, Souls jogged up to the group, expression grim.
"Well, what's it look like?" Junk landed softly on the ground, arms folded across his chest. "We're gonna be able to hit the bar after this?"
He shook his head, clearly ignoring the last comment. "There's some kind of meeting going on. Suits and Tsoo all over the place." He ground out a smoldering cinder with his boot, the smoky line behind him fading.
"Suits? You mean the Family's here?" Scimitar frowned as the new guy nodded his head once. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Who says it has to make sense?" Junk offered a wide grin to the other four. "We go in, round 'em up, cuff 'em, port 'em, and then Vince lines us up for shots before we all go home. Easy as that."
Miranda refrained from punching him, focusing on Souls instead. "Meeting, as in negotiating? They hate each other, though. You're sure it was the Family?"
"Yeah." Tired of the chatter, Souls turned to Sang. "She any good with the sorcerers?" He jerked a thumb at Mori, who gritted her teeth and scowled.
The Tanker nodded, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "Mori, can you get closer to that first group?"
"Um, yes?" Souls' comment had prompted an air of sarcasm that she punctuated by rolling her eyes. "Like you have to ask, Hardy. For the love of…" Her mumbling trailed off as she softly ported herself to the top of some scaffolding.
Scim watched her disappear before turning to the group. "Stay close, all right? I can't help if you take off around corners." Adjusting his dark glasses, he glanced back at Junk. "So don't get cocky."
"Me, cocky?"
Sang ignored them, waited for each of the Tsoo guards to nod off around the crates at the end of the hallway. As the last one gently slumped forward, he motioned to the others. An armored hand waved them ahead to the first few that the Controller hds put to sleep. A few swift punches coupled with a few bursts left most of them unconscious, with one needing a bit more convincing.
"Is it wrong to say that part of me enjoys this?" Junk decided to forgo his usual methods and simply punched the last guard squarely in his solar plexus. The man crumpled to the floor, his expression dazed as Mori secured his wrists and stuck a transmitter on his belt. "Because I do."
"And it shows," the Defender replied, casting a healing aura for good measure. "Ready for the next round?"
Sang nodded, pointing to the group congregating at a few makeshift tables outside an office. "Those next. We've got to lure them out of there so they don't alert anyone." He turned back to the group. "I don't see any sorcerers back there, but that doesn't mean-"
A burst of red-hot flame shot between Sang and Junk, catching a guard near the door and prompting the other to get up. The door to the office flew open, two figures wearing the ornamental robes of Tsoo sorcerers behind several personal bodyguards. Souls ran ahead, smoke and flame erupting from his fingertips as he began a one-person assault.
Sang gritted his teeth and charged forward. Cover blown, the best they could manage would be a quick melee and hasty cleanup. The mace whirled about his head before crashing to the ground, the impact and resulting shockwave knocking several of the guards down. A flurry of caltrops whistled through the air, the tiny spikes doing little damage to his armor but presenting trouble for the two nearby Blasters. Junk leapt into the air, even with the rafters as he sent volley after volley of energy into the tight ring of bodyguards the kept the sorcerers from harm.
Beneath him, Scimitar stumbled back on unsteady legs. Eyes rolled back in his head and Mori looked up just in time to see him crash into an untidy stack of empty crates. She dodged a rather nasty shiruken, jumping to the ground next to the Defender who fell unconscious from a bit of Tsoo sorcery.
"Reiki? Aw, damn," she swore. Snatching a small medlink device from her pocket, she pressed the edge of it to his jaw. A high pitched hum let her know it was working, and Scimitar shook himself awake seconds later.
"Thanks," he offered, getting to his feet. "Didn't see that one." The healing aura rose up around them, Mori's Transfusion spells aiding the others in the middle of the skirmish. A series of alternating fire and ice explosions wore down the ring of protection about the sorcerers. As steam rose from the railing, the Controller managed eye contact with one of the robed figures. Lips formed soundless incantations, and Mori smiled in triumph as one doubled over in the throes of a migraine. The other one turned, distracted by his comrade's sudden affliction. In an instant, he fell against the outside window of the office. Fingers outstretched, she repeated the spell in a soft whisper. Ice-white energy pulsed between them for a split second before radiating outwards in a brilliant display, the blast sending both to the ground.
"Nice." Junk appraised as he surveyed the damage. "For something totally unexpected, of course."
"Yeah," grunted Sang, the displeasure in his voice unmistakable. He shouldered the mace and checked around the corner. Fingers tightened about the handle in frustration. The floor and walls of the office were smoky-black, furniture caked with soot. Souls was slumped over the table, the tone of the Paragon medical alert clear and calm.
"Chiron emergency services, are you in need of assistance? Failure to reply in forty seconds will result in immediate transport," it chirped pleasantly. The Tanker punched the table ferociously, the wood splitting under the force.
Mori winced behind him at the noise, concern immediately turning to disgust. "Oh, great. Gosh, I wonder how this happened," she spat, ducking under her mentor's arm. "Serves him right."
