American Red Cross Blood Donation Center--Warehouse 2 am
"Yo! Aaron!" The foreman called out, trying to get the attention of one of his employees. He hired Aaron about two days ago off a temp agency; after the battle of New York, the need for more human resources forced most of the blood centers to increase positions to meet the demands of the dilapidated city. Aaron proved himself as a reliable worker but had a knack for listening to music while on the job.
He called out again, this time visibly frustrated. Storming over to the 'diddy-bopping' worker, he spun Aaron around only for a silenced Baretta M9A3 sent a bullet through his head, splattering 'pink-mist' across nearby machinery.
The moment the foreman was down, Aaron moved toward the back of the Blood Center to open trailer doors where several armored vans had been strategically parked.
"Go, Go-Go!" He screamed as he opened the back of the armored truck, more of his associates hopped out and began moving large crates of blood from the warehouse into the vehicles. "Be careful with this shit if it gets on you, you're as good as done for."
In another portion of the center, several security guards were gagged and tied to each other with a lone sentry watching over them. The gunmen removed their communication devices so they couldn't preemptively alert the police. When all of the trucks were loaded, Aaron radioed into the overseer to inform him the job was complete.
"Yo, Despot's coming. Making sure you don't have any of that shit on you," The gunmen searched themselves and each other to make sure they were free of the blood; if it made contact with their skin at all, they were good as done for. Then entered Despot.
You, there, what's your real name?
Despot asked, seemingly appearing from nowhere. At first, Aaron questioned whether or not he was being spoken to, but when he confirmed, he replied. "Aaron, sir."
Despot nodded his head before sending a round through Aaron's head, much to the chagrin of the others.
Never use your real name.
Aaron made himself a liability; once the public got wind of this, they'd trace Aaron back to the temp agency. Now it appeared as if he were murdered with the others. Moving through the center, he entered the room with the two security guards bound together, protected by his gloves in the event of a leakage, and he placed a bag of blood right next to them. "Gentlemen." He said, moving back a bit, he didn't need to do this, but he wanted to. Taking his pistol, he shot the bag of blood, causing it to eject on them, before swiftly exiting the room back to the henchmen.
Gentlemen, I want this shit distributed to over scumbag across America. This is how we level out the playing field. This is how we topple Olympus. You all have your orders execute them.
The Drivers were to drive the tainted blood to various locations across the country; there were V.I.P's and Order affiliates waiting on it. One of the drivers had different orders, though he didn't know it--he was the mouse being presented to the Cat.
Later in the Day, 7 am--Cat's Hotel
She hadn't slept well in days; it all started with having to mercy kill Ashley, which was made worse when she had to kill Maya. Then there was Mari, they hadn't spoken in days, but she hadn't even reached out to see if her daughter was ok. She needed to, her love for Mari, the reason for everything she'd done.
Another thing that hounded her was the dream she had, call it paranoia, but she dreamt the Order shot up her hotel room. Though given the thought that they would wasn't too far'fetched considering they knew she was in the city. Tossing aside her comforter, she strolled toward her phone after hearing it ping. It was an apple news update. Cat's eyebrow curved at the headline "Robbery/Homicide at American Red Cross" Initially, she thought nothing of it, that us until she remembered her dream started this exact way.
That's when she felt it, the subtle rumble of footsteps in the hallway. Paranoia ran rampant. Pressing her back against the wall quickly snapped on her Selebrity bracelet, after the Daytonville Fiasco her team created a way for her to transform instantly.
With a quick press of a button, her Legacy Armor hugged her frame, and she waited. There was a knock at the door, her head swung in the direction of the knock. 'Room service' she thought. "Room Service," they said. Catalina teleported from her room to the hallway taking the gunmen by surprise.
Unclasping her Conquistador Bullwhip, she began to spin the whip to protect the innocents on her side of the hallway.
Made of dead Asgardian Muscle Tissue, Cat's bullwhip deflected the bullets ricocheting them back towards her attackers. They ducked for cover providing the Selebrity Liafador with the cover she needed to take the fight to them directly.
'Absolute Justice' The words of her late mother fresh on her brain, Cat lunge whip first snagging one of the gunmen by his neck, as she maneuvered to kick another while thrusting her hands toward a window which sent the whip and the man reeling outside. The whip slip thru her hands momentarily before halting--she'd hung him.
Now in retreat, the gunmen barreled down the hallway trying to get away from the Murderous Prize Fighter Herald.
She picked them off one by one via teleportation, not killing them; but leaving them wishing she did. She stalked one of the gunmen who were still coherent.
"Where's Ada!" She screamed, but he didn't respond instead he gave a smile as if he were daring Cat to kill him. She wouldn't she needed to find Ada. Cat's eyes cackled an electric purple before she searched his thoughts. It was tough, these were Ada's men no doubt they had cosmic level mental protection that made it hard for Cat, even though her powers had the same origin.
She saw a blood truck, on I-95 North, and also saw the robbery at the American Red Cross. "She's spreading it..." She couldn't do it alone, but with a 5-hour headstart; she had to make sure that truck didn't reach NYC.
"You!" She called out as she exited the hotel. Before she could give a command, she glanced up and saw that the man she'd hung was stuck on an air condition unit. His body had yet to plummet to the ground. "Come on guys this is D.C, this can't be the worse thing you've ever seen. Anyways call the Police, tell them to be on the lookout for American Red Cross vehicles!"
"Mr.President, Mr.President" His aides from seemingly every wing tried to catch his attention. The FLOTUS saw his distress and temporarily excused everyone from the room. At the moment his concern wasn't on the blood bank, nor was it on the shooting at the hotel, despite the fact that it was now all over the news. The reporters wanted to know if it was a coincidence that this happened on the day of his State of the Union, but this was DC; crazy things happened all the time. As he sat haunched over on his chair, he could feel her sinister presence slither into his oval office. The Herald of the Flower Incarnate, Ada Guillaume.
"Dhalia, has the order sent you to kill me?" He asked not caring to call his secret service. It was no use, Ada more than likely walked right through the front door. Her ability to control people with her voice was an often underestimated ability.
"Now, Now, Now; Mr. President" The Jewish born French native reassured gesturing her hands to show that wasn't the case. "I've come to inform you that the Order has taken interest in Washington D.C, you will delay committing your resources to stop the spread of CR-833".
The command took him by surprise, but it shouldn't have. In his quest to ascend the Highest Elected Position in the nation, President Adrian Glover pledged himself to the Order of Malta. They gave him the United States on a silver platter, in return, he had to submit to the will of the Order. Over the course of his term, the Order had left him alone, but he always knew they'd come knocking. Now, he was in the Lame Duck period, The Party decided to move in a different direction. So he'd given up hope that he'd get reelected. Now, policies he'd try to enact would be democratically ruled out until the next president was seated.
"B-but even the experts are calling this the most dangerous virus in history. Millions of people will die." He protests. Ada said nothing, rather she took a seat on the arm of the chair releasing a sigh at his non-compliance.
"Adrian...who am I? Who do I serve, and Why am I here?"
It was at this moment the FLOTUS offered them both something to drink, Ada declined. "You're Dhalia, Horsemen of Population Control...You serve The Order of Malta--Y-Intercept. And you're here to collect a debt..." He recited unenthusiastically. The choice of joining the Order was now becoming a reality.
"In attendance, tonight are the Republican, Democrat and Libertarian Presidential Candidates; It is in the best interest of the Order that none of them get elected. You will lie to the American public, just long enough for the Order to secure one of the candidates. Or We will kill them?"
And then what? Delay the elections?
"Sure, if that becomes the case. Need I remind you that not doing what the Order asks is a breach of contract." Ada paused before glancing in the direction of the FLOTUS. "You breach your contract Monsuier Glover, we breach ours."
Now startled the FLOTUS handed her husband a glass of water and began to speak on his behalf. "W-we we'll do it..."
Good. Good. It'd be a shame for the sins of the father to fall to the children. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have other business to tend to. Au revoir.