MORRISON
I stood in front of the glass wall of my dimly lit office, watching my reflection as if it could answer me.
Because tonight, I wasn’t just looking for information. I was looking for the truth someone was trying hard to bury.
The light emanating from three large monitors cast a cold, gray glow on my body.
I took a deep breath and turned around, focusing my attention on the primary screen where documents were loaded.
I then walked gently to the workspace chair and took a seat. Every second felt borrowed as I waited for my head of security.
A mug of cold coffee sat untouched beside the sprawling network diagram taped to the wall, with detailed routers and firewalls needed to bypass security.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to dig through deleted logs and hidden par
