Rock-paper-scissors - Police Edition Vide...: Strip

Lena wanted to laugh. She wanted to call for backup, a negotiator, anyone. But Marcus held up a hand. “He’s wired the back room with something,” Marcus whispered, his jaw tight. “I see det-cord. If we rush him, Chen dies.”

They found him in the center of the “Galactic Clash” virtual reality arena. A man in his late forties, gaunt, wearing a stained lab coat over a “World’s Best Dad” t-shirt. Around him, he had set up a bizarre stage: three cameras on tripods, a disco ball hanging from a broken ceiling tile, and a large digital scoreboard that read: Strip Rock-Paper-Scissors - Police Edition Vide...

Later, as they waited for the wagon to take the Referee away, Marcus handed Lena a thermal blanket. She was shivering, still in her sports bra and pants, her gear in a pile. Lena wanted to laugh

His scissors cut her paper. A soft, mocking snip-snip sound escaped his lips. Lena felt a flash of rage. She unbuttoned her tactical vest and let it fall. Then her polo shirt. She stood in a plain gray sports bra, her arms crossed. Marcus looked away, not out of prudishness, but out of a pure, protective fury. “He’s wired the back room with something,” Marcus