Brendan shuffled to the office across from his bedroom and sank into his leather chair to open a laptop, one of several on his desk. Solitary hours and years had been spent staring at monitors.
He clicked on a message board, commenting and posting with a temporary IP address he changed after each use, using a series of encrypted gateways and firewalls that rendered him virtually untraceable. All his data was saved in an “air-gapped” computer – one that had never been connected to the Internet and was therefore unhackable.
Over time he’d amassed hundreds of files representing the types of online predator he hunted: Occasional Users, who were almost invisible and tough to catch because they didn’t download the obscene, illegal images they viewed in cyberspace; Collectors, who, as the name suggested, collected images but didn’t interact much in chats; and Distributors, who shared illegal content and offered technical advice on how to avoid being caught.
Eventually they all tripped up. One guy posted a photo of his own daughter’s birthday party – innocent six-year-olds running through a sprinkler with the house number easily spotted on the mailbox. That one was a no-brainer. At first, when Brendan began hunting these deviants, he’d settled for exposing a guy, shaming him, threatening to out him to his spouse or parents or employer as a pedophile. After a while, though, Brendan realized he could do better: he could gather enough evidence to tip off the local authorities, which was exactly what he’d done to individuals in Turkey, Indonesia, France, and around the United States. On Brendan’s information, several of the pervs were arrested and convicted. Through one of his hubs he helped bring down a human trafficking ring. Not all that different from what the Feds were doing these days with online stings, maybe, but Brendan had been at it longer, had formed friendships, had all the time in the world to devote to it, and his IT skills were fantastic.
This morning the chatrooms were quiet, as he predicted; things didn’t heat up until nightfall. That’s when the vermin crawled out from under the rocks to begin posting, after dinner, after their unwitting families went to sleep. That’s when Brendan did his best hunting: in the dark.
Behind his screens, he could be anyone.
A hunter. A vigilante.
A defender of children from those who would exploit them.
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