Games by Andy Slade

Games by Andy Slade

Author:Andy Slade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bennie Rosa
Published: 2024-04-21T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 38

Mase carried the box and the cryptic note to the lab, hoping for a break in the case. No fingerprints—check one box.

Deciding to visit Sherman Weiss proved simpler than expected. Sure, the guy was a pain, earning the moniker "The Putz" for his abrasive personality, but in the realm of cyber forensics, he was unparalleled. They'd collaborated on cases before, begrudgingly acknowledging each other's expertise.

Faron Highsmith's promise to call in a favor from Weiss sealed the deal. With confirmation from Highsmith, Mase braced himself and made the trek out to Far Rockaway, where Weiss resided. Despite his skills, Weiss lived modestly in the projects, eschewing the trappings of wealth.

As Mase ascended to the eighth floor, the pungent odor of urine and sizzling garlic assaulted his senses. Suppressing a wave of nausea, he rapped on Weiss's metal door, met with cautious scrutiny as it creaked open.

Weiss appeared older than his years, a consequence of his sedentary lifestyle and relentless immersion in cyber intricacies. His posture was hunched, eyes fatigued from endless screen glare, and breath, well, potent enough to peel paint. Yet beneath the gruff exterior lay a mind honed to razor-sharp precision, dedicated to unraveling the complexities of cyber technology.

The height contrast between the two men was stark, with Weiss craning his neck to meet Mase's gaze, nearly toppling backward in the process.

“Oh, it’s you," Weiss sneered, his tone dripping with disdain.

"Bet you never thought you'd see me again," Mase retorted dryly.

"One can only hope, Mr. Mason," Weiss quipped, his sarcasm cutting.

Surveying the cluttered apartment, Mase struggled to find a clear spot to sit. Every inch of space was overrun with technology—laptops, hard drives, wires snaking across the floor, printers humming in the background.

With a grunt, Weiss shifted an old laptop from his recliner, gesturing for Mase to take a seat. "Make it quick," he grumbled. "I'm a busy man."

"It's simple. I need your help," Mase stated plainly. "You know I wouldn't be here if I had any other option."

Weiss scoffed. "God forbid you cops ever fix your own messes. What would our taxpayers do, of which I am unfortunately one?"

"I'm a taxpayer too," Mase shot back, his patience wearing thin. "And I'm not thrilled about working with you either. But sometimes we have to swallow our pride and seek expertise elsewhere. That's where you come in."

"Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Mason," Weiss replied, a hint of begrudging respect in his tone. "What is it you need from me?"

"People are being murdered, manipulated, and mind-controlled by an unknown assailant," Mase explained urgently. "I don't know if it's a man, woman, or child, but we need to catch them before more lives are lost."

Weiss leaned forward, intrigued. "What else?"

"I'm certain they've targeted me and someone I know," Mase continued. "But here's the kicker—everything I've told you is speculation. All I have are a dead colleague's hard drive, his cell phone, and a VR headset loaded with some twisted game featuring me as the villain. Take a look."

Mase extracted the items from his jacket pocket and extended them towards Sherman Weiss.



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