President Evil

West Wing Lobby, White House

Labrys took one more look in the mirror, adjusting her currently-blond hair, her designer makeup, her professionally-tailored skirt. Anything to make sure her disguise was still in place. It was a huge pain to put on actual makeup, actual clothing, and even dying her artificial hair blonde to fit in with her "Larissa Joyce" identity, but she knew her preferred holograms wouldn't work here. Not in the White House.

The friggin' White House.

Ever since she'd created the fictional Corner Consortium and moved to Washington DC after the annual Kobber Split, she'd been working hard to find other ways to change the world without having to resort to Joyce Jr.'s ideas of armed insurrections and Kobber Takeover of the government. She'd been successful thus far, through diplomacy, money, and - from time to time - blackmail. She did what she could to foster change without outright breaking the law. Sure, she'd used her abilities as a digital intelligence to sneak into computer systems, but only when other methods had failed.

It had also been the only way to get an appointment to meet with the president to discuss some of his recent policy decisions. She hoped the Make America Livable Party didn't mind having their appointment mysteriously eaten by the aether or wherever deleted scheduled items went when you hacked into the White House computers and replaced one meeting with another.

Ever since she'd confirmed that appointment, she'd worked furiously to prepare. She'd only managed to secure five minutes with President Michael Wilson and she was determined to make the most of it. She'd even worked in her "sleep", the time she spent in her maintenance chair recharging and receiving repairs, on how the meeting should go. Now she say in the West Wing Lobby making sure everything was perfect: she adjusted her disguise with her body and practiced her speech in a digital Oval Office in her mind. She finally felt ready as an orderly instructed her to follow him to the president.

Michael Wilson, a man who secured national fame by leading the armed forces against a military insurrection several years ago alongside his vice-president Richard Hawk, was known to be passionate, energetic, and direct. A man who appreciated straight talk and directly confronting issues over backroom deals and double-talk.

"Good morning, Miss Joyce. How are you this morning?" the president asked as an aide seated Labrys.

"Oi'm doin' jist gran', sir. 'tis an 'onor ter meet witcha," 'Larissa' answered.

"So what can the White House do for you?" Michael Wilson asked with maybe a touch of weariness, as if anticipating more partisan dealings or lobbyist meddling.

"Tanks for meetin' wi' me, sir. Ah've cum ter yer ter explain de corner consortium's growin' concerns over de condishun av several key american 'ighways an' freeways. dees strategic roads clap a combined eighty...do yer 'ear somethin'?"

Labrys' advanced hearing could barely hear the incoming attack moments before they struck. The windows behind the president's desk shattered as three slender figures JUMPED into the room. Labrys managed to duck behind the desk and the president had quick enough reflexes to avoid being shredded as well, but the attackers ignored them, first rushing out into the hall to disable the guards stationed right outside. The president began shouting for guards and hit a button, but Labrys lay there unmoving. For one thing, Larissa Joyce wouldn't be expected to get up and fight assassins; she'd have to wait until nobody was watching or she had no choice otherwise. Another thing though shocked her into further inaction: all three attackers looked almost identical to her. They didn't even pretend to wear clothing and their eyes were a lifeless shade of grey, but they moved just like her and carried axes just like hers, which coincidentally was back at her apartment.

Gunshots rang from the hallway, but none of the robots sounded stopped. One popped back into the Oval Office - presumably to actually murder the president - but it quickly fell to the ground as the sound of a huge automatic weapon rang across the room. The other two robots jumped back in to investigate but they were cut down as well. Curiosity overrode shock in Labrys' system and she peeked over the desk. In the president's place stood a massive blue robot: the president's personal power armor, Metal Wolf.

"I apologize, Miss Joyce. It looks like I'm going to have to cancel our meeting. The guards will need a statement from you I'm sure, but I'll get someone to escort you home."

Metal Wolf looked around the office, picking up one of the ruined robots. If she could have, Labrys would have gulped nervously. Someone was stealing her image and just used it to try murdering the leader of the United States of America.

She just might have to get out of town.