The office is a hive of activity around me, sharp voices barking orders, the clack of keyboards, booted feet pounding the lino. But it all fades as I zero in, chasing the data stream. 'GOTCHA!'. I’m through the final gateway. Now to decipher this mess of jumbled characters that hide the darkest thoughts of the sickest minds.

Bile rises in my throat as the words take shape. Drugs. Weapons. Kids. Sex slaves. …oh GOD, not again. I swallow hard. "Focus, Steph! Piece it together."