Yes, he does

The man looked up, typed something on his computer, then smiled at him.

“Yes, Mr. Mason Vale, correct? Miss Nadine Shah is waiting for you in her office on the 17th floor.”

Mason mumbled his thanks. He and the police officer walked over to the bank of elevators. One of them opened almost immediately. They stepped inside. Mason hit the button for 17. The doors closed and the elevator began its smooth upward journey.

As the floors ticked by, Mason’s mind went back. He had known Nadine since they were kids. They grew up on the same street, went to the same schools for a while, spent summers hanging out and getting into minor trouble together. She had always been the sharper one, the one who could talk her way out of anything and see angles other people missed. They had been basically best friends. Even when life started pulling them in different directions, they had stayed in touch in the way old friends do, occasional messages, the rare call, a quiet understanding that the other person was still there if things got bad enough.

Life had taken them separate ways. Nadine had used her amazing mind and her stunning looks to land a job at Empire News, climbing fast from junior researcher to a real reporter with her own segment and sources. Mason was still very much in the rat race, scraping by, trying to figure out what came next. He had never resented her for it. If anything, he had always been proud of how far she had gone. And right now, with his sister missing and a brainwashing frat operating out of a house in this very city, he knew that if he could depend on anyone in this situation, it was Nadine.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened onto a quiet hallway with carpeted floors and frosted glass office doors. Mason and the police officer following him made their way swiftly toward the reporter’s office. He found the nameplate, Nadine Shah and pushed the door open without knocking.

As Mason entered, the two of them made eye contact. Nadine smiled at him. The smile was genuine, the same one he remembered from years ago, just a little more polished now.

God she is just as stunning as I remember, Mason thought to himself.

The Iraqi woman had short straight black hair done in a short bob which framed her face perfectly. She wore rimless thin glasses which made her dark blue eyes look more intense, more focused. Her perfectly toned body was perfectly complemented by the tight grey blouse that hugged her chest and the matching pencil skirt that followed the line of her hips and thighs. She looked every bit the successful reporter, sharp, put-together and not someone you wanted to underestimate.

She looked over at Officer Sanchez as the blank-faced cop followed Mason into the office. Nadine’s eyes darkened slightly. There were a couple of laptops open on her desk along with a bunch of papers, some printed articles, some handwritten notes. Mason knew Nadine had been researching the frat just as she had said she would when he called her in a panic the night before. She had not asked many questions on the phone. She had just told him to get to her office as soon as he could and that she would start digging.

Nadine walked over, standing directly in front of the blank cop. She brought her face close to Sanchez’s, looking into the empty eyes, then waved a hand slowly in front of the officer’s face. Sanchez did not blink. She did not track the movement. She just stood there, waiting.

“Unless this is a really elaborate prank and you got a fantastic actress,” Nadine said as she turned to address Mason, “I can see why you’re so flustered.”

She stepped back from the officer and gestured toward her desk.

“Come. We need to plan this properly.”

Mason smiled sheepishly as he walked over. The weight of everything, the drive, the triggered women, the knowledge of what was happening to Serena, sat heavy on him, but now, he felt a small measure of relief. He knew he had made the right choice.

Nadine gestured for Mason to sit across from her desk. Officer Sanchez remained standing near the door, still as a statue, eyes empty and fixed on nothing. The reporter closed one of the laptops slightly so they could see each other properly and leaned forward.

“I’ve been digging since you called,” she said. “And the deeper I go, the uglier it gets. This Alpha 7 isn’t just some rowdy college frat. There are connections that don’t make sense on paper. Several current and former members have ended up in staff positions for state senators and even a couple of congressmen. Campaign donations that look clean but trace back to shell companies tied to the house in DC. Whenever one of their guys gets arrested, assault, sexual misconduct, even a couple of disappearances that got ruled accidental, the charges quietly vanish or get reduced to nothing. Witnesses recant. Evidence goes missing. It happens too consistently to be luck.”

She pulled up a folder of screenshots on the second laptop and turned it so Mason could see.

“And then there’s this. Every few months, videos surface on the darker corners of the web. Famous women, actresses, athletes, politicians’ wives, even a couple of news anchors, doing things that would end their careers if they were real. Group scenes inside what looks like the same large house. The women look completely out of it, smiling and obedient while things happen that no one in their right mind would agree to on camera. Within hours the files get flagged, taken down or drowned in comments calling them deepfakes and AI garbage. A few forensic accounts have tried to prove they’re real and gotten buried under coordinated harassment. The pattern is too clean. Someone is protecting that place.”

Mason listened without interrupting. When she finished he rubbed his face and looked over at the blank-faced officer.

“It’s not protection in the normal sense,” he said. “They’re brainwashing people. Hypnosis, triggers, the whole thing. They turn women into what they call assets. Complete obedience. No resistance. My sister is one of them. They took her right out of my apartment using two cops who were already under their control. One of them is standing right there. I can prove it to you.”