It was a quiet evening at the Arena Club in Los Angeles. The dim lighting and plush décor created an atmosphere of exclusivity and sophistication. In the center of the room, a large table dominated the space, around which nine individuals were seated. Each person wore a pin on their clothing, identical to the others, signifying their membership in the prestigious Council of Nine.

As the group convened, a hush fell over the room. These were powerful individuals, each with their own sphere of influence and control. They had been brought together to discuss matters of great importance, and the weight of their responsibility was palpable.

Two distinguished gentlemen, clearly of considerable wealth and power, sat across from Calvin and Whitney, their faces betraying no emotion as they delivered the news.

"In light of recent events," one of them began, his tone cold and unyielding, "The Council has decided to put a stop to your company's experimentation with Zero Matter. We have to get you prepped for the Senatorial Campaign. The press has caught wind of the relationship between you and the deceased scientist, and it is going to harm your campaign, thereby harming our interests."

Calvin's mind raced as he tried to process the gravity of the situation. The Council's decision would have far-reaching consequences for the company, and he knew that their interests were inextricably linked with those of the powerful individuals seated before them.

As if sensing his apprehension, the other man spoke up. "Don't worry, Calvin. We have a plan in place to mitigate the damage. But you and Whitney need to follow our orders and make the necessary changes. We cannot afford any missteps at this critical juncture."

Calvin remained silent, glancing over at Whitney, who was seething with anger. She banged her fists on the table and stood up, walking out. But neither of the men sitting around the table seemed to care. They continued to give orders, their tone brooking no dissent.

A few hours later, in the opulent splendor of a mansion, the tranquility of the surroundings was shattered by a sudden noise, followed by a series of crashes and bangs that echoed through the halls.

"Aagh!" Whitney screamed, her voice filled with rage and frustration. She picked up an expensive vase and threw it to the ground, watching as it shattered into a million pieces. Her hair was a mess, and she looked like she was about to snap.

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A sudden knock at the door jolted Whitney out of her reverie. She charged towards the door, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and frustration. With one swift motion, she flung open the door, only to find herself face-to-face with Calvin.

Without hesitation, she grabbed his collar and let out a piercing scream. "All of my work is gone! Because of you! You! Just because you couldn't handle one of your mistresses!"

Calvin's eyes widened with fear as he tried to explain. "I'm sorry, Whitney. But they're right. I have the Senatorial campaign coming up, and if the press finds out about my affair with Jane, it's over for me."

But Whitney wasn't listening. Her mind was consumed with a burning desire to protect her work, her legacy. She shoved Calvin back, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.

"I don't care what you or they think is right for you," she shouted. "But nobody can undo my hard work. If they won't let the experiments continue, I'll do them myself."

With that, she slammed the door shut, leaving Calvin alone with his thoughts.

Meanwhile, an eerie silence fell over the deserted road. In the distance, the sound of a vehicle could be heard, growing louder with each passing moment. Suddenly, an SSR truck careened into view, hurtling toward a tree. The impact was deafening, and the truck came to a sudden stop.

Two SSR agents sat in the front, their lifeless bodies slumped over the steering wheel. Blood dripped down their foreheads, staining their clothes and the interior of the truck.

Outside the vehicle, a man with an intimidating air approached. His name was Rufus Hunt, and he was a notorious hitman who had been hired to retrieve a metal container from the back of the truck. Inside the container lay the body of Jane, the scientist who had been experimenting with Zero Matter.

With a sly smile, Rufus went to work, using his tools and equipment to extract the container from the truck. Once he had it in his possession, he drove toward the County Cold Storage Building, which was owned by a member of the Council.

Upon arrival, Rufus was given a new order by the Council: to eliminate Jason Wilkes, another scientist who had been working with Jane. The Council saw Wilkes as a loose end, a potential liability who could expose sensitive information to the police. Rufus nodded curtly and set off to complete his task, his mind focused on the mission at hand.

Rufus Hunt made his way to the Isodyne Energy Headquarters, with his years of experience as a hitman, Rufus snuck past security and made his way to the restricted part of the facility. There, he caught a glimpse of Wilkes stealing a film titled "Origin of Zero Matter." Rufus watched in silence as Wilkes carefully tucked the film away, clearly intending to show it to others.

Rufus knew that he had to act quickly. He followed Wilkes out of the facility and tracked him to the Dunbar Hotel. There, he spotted Wilkes sitting with Peggy and Val, two of his colleagues from the SSR. The three of them were deep in discussion, their voices low and urgent.

Without hesitation, Rufus quickly dialed the numbers of his most trusted henchmen. As soon as they arrived, Rufus gave them the signal to open fire on the ground-floor window where he had spotted his targets.

* BANG *

* BANG *

* BANG *

The sound of gunfire echoed through the air as bullets sprayed into the room, shattering the glass and filling the air with smoke and debris.

But despite the intensity of the attack, Rufus's plan failed. Val had already caught sight of him earlier and had alerted Peggy and Wilkes. The three of them quickly dove for cover, taking refuge behind the nearest objects as the hail of bullets rained down on them.