My Destiny Ch 10 1

Dear Readers, Your support and feedback for me and "Elizabeth" as we follow her chosen journey through life, a path not dictated by family tradition or demands of her parents. Elizabeth is a strong-willed, independent woman who is driven by her desire to be the best person she can be. This drive and passion for excellence comes with a hefty price, and Elizabeth must accept the consequences of her decisions and actions.

I have introduced the topic of abuse and exploitation in this chapter, along with the investigative organisations that put life and limb on the line to bring the perpetrators to justice. While this story is a work of fiction, no situation can allow violence, especially against women and children to occur.

This chapter can stand alone; however, the previous chapters will give you the background and context of the characters that appear in my story.

Please note that while the story starts and will finish with a female same-sex theme, the main character, Elizabeth, is bisexual and is not ashamed when she participates in heterosexual encounters. Such encounters are described in the following text.

As I sat back on my knees, worn out from vomiting the last of my lunch into the toilet, I wondered why I kept doing this to myself. It would be a simple excuse if I drank or was pregnant, but this kind of nausea was becoming a regular reaction to my work. My self-pity was interrupted by one of my work colleagues knocking on the door, ensuring I was OK. I tried to sound confident when I told her I was OK and would be out in a moment. I took a few minutes to compose myself, freshened up, and adjusted my hair before returning to my desk and the living hell that resided on my computer.

After graduating from University with honours, I decided to join the Australian Federal Police (AFP). The initial 26-week recruit training program in the Australian Capital, Canberra. The training was a typically structured course, heavy on fitness, policy and law. Compared to the temp I had maintained the previous few years, the course was reasonably tame and allowed me to stay well ahead of my study and fitness requirements. On the upside, I had plenty of time to enjoy my numerous sporting outlets, like flying and scuba diving. On the downside, I was away from my girlfriend, Bella and the great people who made up my family.

I graduated from the course with honours, which allowed me to put in preferences for my initial posting. I chose the Cyber Crime and Fraud department because I didn't want to go straight into protection duties. At first, this was an exciting challenge as it allowed me to use the knowledge and skills I had acquired through my university studies. The posting also got me closer to home, giving me most weekends in my lover's arms.

I had been estranged from my real family for over four years now. I was kicked out of the family home due to my rebellious nature and unforgivable acts from my father. My mother took this situation and guided me to my new life, where she hoped I would carve out my own destiny in Australia. When the door to my past closed, the hole that was my family was filled with a small yet loving group of friends who have always had my back. Since we met, they have been my friends, confidants and lovers. We each held a special part in each other's lives. Our love might be unorthodox, but I didn't care; it worked, and we loved one another.

Not long after I started my rotation in the Cyber section, my supervisor called me to her office for a quick chat. She had overheard me teaching a work friend a few words of Russian for his upcoming holiday and wanted to know more about my language skillset. By her reaction, I guessed my university transcript and resume were not on my file.

Jo took numerous notes as I described my interest in languages, especially the European and Baltic regional dialects. I told her my interest developed due to my father's business dealings, but eventually, I embraced the importance that language and political science could have on my desired career path.

When I finished answering her questions, she put her pen down and stared at her notes briefly before looking me straight in the eyes. Jo was a 20-year veteran of the Defence Force before she joined the AFP. She was a no-nonsense, hard-nosed manager; her compassion for her staff seemed unending. She was a hard taskmaster but a phenomenal man-manager; she never missed changes in her staff and protected us like her own children. I sensed Jo was conflicted with the decisions she needed to make, it was evident she was weighing up the requirements of the job but also her duty of care for me.

She started with a brief overview of a current investigation the AFP in conjunction with other police organisations from various countries. For several years, the joint task force had been investigating a worldwide people trafficking organisation, to date with very limited success. A recent lead has led the investigation teams towards the Baltic states, for a possible headquarters to the organisations activities. Another brief silence fell between us before she asked if I would consider using my language skills to help the ongoing investigation. Before I answered, she gave me the downside of the request; if I accepted, I would move to a closed section within the Cyber section, "the Penthouse".

Jo's request shocked me as "the Penthouse" was the description used for the office space occupied by the porn and child exploitation unit. This section had a reputation as a people killer as nobody lasted more than 12 months before they needed time out. It was also a section where probation officers were not usually allowed to work. Still, given my skills in languages, she was willing to use me for the benefit of the investigation. Her request surprised me, and as the weight of her words began to sink in, I started to feel apprehensive about the task I was being asked to join. She urged me to take the weekend to carefully think about the offer, fully aware of the impact the position could have on my personal and family well-being. She gave me an early mark to get home to my family for a long weekend.

I spent the weekend babysitting Michael and Annie's twins while they took a weekend away. Caring for Helena and Michael Jr is one of my favourite things. They are both adventurous and full of life, and they always leave me exhausted yet happy whenever I look after them. My house always looked like a war zone when the twins joined their "cousins" Margot and Kevin, Bella's children, who are always up for a play date. I loved the time I could spend with the kids; it always made me feel alive. By the end of the weekend, my mind was made up about the offer Jo had discussed; I would do whatever I could to keep not only my family safe but all the vulnerable kids around the world, and if working in the porn section helped me achieve that, then so be it.

That innocent weekend was a long six months ago, and not a day goes by that I wish I could use a couple of bricks to castrate the sick fucks who took pleasure in destroying the lives of children and babies. The routine was OK: nine-day fortnights, regular counselling, and strict work hours. My boss Martin was also very anal about taking your entire lunch hour and regular breaks. Even though some of the work had time-critical elements to them, he never approved over time. Not that we needed extra money. The special allowance for our work made up of any shortfalls in the regular bills. He conducted regular welfare checks on his staff, and the routine department-prescribed training days usually included helping with his latest crossword.

The work, though, was indescribably difficult, and spending an evening crying or, like that morning, vomiting my soul up was unfortunately a regular occurrence. Together with my colleague Pat, I was sorting through thousands of images and videos linked to an overseas child trafficking and exploitation ring. We had to review every image, run them through various analytical programs, and try to identify patterns, etc., hoping the organisation could be dismantled and the perpetrators brought to justice. My proficiency in the different Baltic languages was also a great help with our work in following leads.

To keep sane, I ran to and from the office and took regular exercise classes to free up my mind. My increased rate of exercise and the stress of my job worried my sister Julie and girlfriend Bella as they thought I was punishing myself for the deeds of those we were investigating. Their concern grew because I couldn't express my work-related stress to them.

When I returned to my desk, Pat was concerned and took the time to make sure I was OK. He was a good friend, and despite his hardened outward personality, I found him to be the kindest and most compassionate person I have ever known. I once asked him why he kept accepting postings to the section as he was currently on his third rotation to the "penthouse". He didn't go into details except that he owed it to his son, who had been a victim. Eventually, the guilt and shame of what had occurred had overwhelmed his will to live. Pat said as he stood next to his son's open grave; he swore to do whatever he could to avenge his family's loss.

After he gave me a quick pep talk about taking our work to personnel, I composed myself and re-watched the video that had pushed me to my limit. It was one of three recently uploaded to the dark web and accessed in various countries. The language detected brought it to our attention. Each video was about 12 minutes in length and very difficult to view. I was nearly finished and ready to file it for further evidence when I saw a small engraved snake on the side of a gold ring. It took a moment for my exhausted brain to make sense of the image, but when it did, I stood up in shock, knocking my chair over. The noise and sudden movements caught Pat's attention, and when I ran to the investigation storage room and returned with a stack of files, he became concerned that the stress had claimed another victim. He must have thought I had lost my mind as I was flicking through the files and images, asking myself, "Where are you? I know you are here" repeatedly.

Martin had heard the commotion and came out to ensure nothing was wrong. He had been concerned for me, especially given my age and limited experience in the job, and didn't want me to burn out like many of his friends before me. He was about to say something when I found what I was looking for. Out of a stack of images I had reviewed and categorised several weeks earlier, I found what I was looking for and when I compared the image to the one frozen on my screen I knew I had hit pay dirt. I enlarged the computer image to highlight the details before declaring, "Got you, you sick fuck, your arse belongs to me now". My co-workers were shocked and more than a little worried at my behaviour and I am sure some were ready to call the on staff psychologist, when I turned to face them and triumphantly share, "it's the ring, that is the connection."

My announcement sent the order and calm of our workplace out the proverbial window, as my team members started searching their files with my discovery as a new point of reference. Over the next chaotic hour, several large pieces of the investigative puzzle fell into place, putting us closer to catching one of the slipperiest bastards in the world. My simple discovery started a chain of events that would eventually collapse a worldwide people smuggling and child exploitation web.

After Martin regained calm amongst my team, he gathered his facts before taking the findings to his superiors. Before he left, he warmly embraced me and sent everybody home for the rest of the day. The following morning, the team was gathered and given our new priorities. Martin directed more staff to help Pat and me review the outstanding videos and images. At the same time, the rest of the team was tasked with reviewing and cataloguing the evidence we had already processed.

The seemingly insignificant design on the ring led us to more clues, such as a partial tattoo and a watch, which helped direct investigators to the network's leaders. The fact that we now had a name and face for this dangerous predator re-energised our collective effort but also stoked the fire of justice in my mind and body.

Our discovery was eventually shared with Interpol, which took overall control of the investigation. The coordinated flow of vital information kept our work moving briskly in the right direction. As the investigation progressed, I found myself working more on translations of documents than viewing pornographic files; it still provided the mental stimulation I desired but gave me a respite from the horrors the videos and images caused.

The following weeks were full on for us all, but the renewed energy around the workplace kept us focused on our united end goal. Martin did his best to keep us focused and on task with plenty of coffee and pastries. Despite his jovial personality, it was obvious he was not enjoying working his team so hard. His stress was compounded by being dragged from the office to attend countless meetings and conference calls. He had a genuine care for all his staff and hated when the safe and organised routine of the office was disrupted.

Just over a month into our renewed investigations, we were surprised when the AFP commissioner and our unit director arrived for a closed door meeting with Martin. We all knew something was going down as these two members of the executive management never visited our office space. We could all hear Martin's raised voice and the little we could understand, we began to worry that our involvement in the investigation might be terminated. We tried to get on with our work but our curiosity along with a bit of anxiety put paid to our efforts. After listening to an angry one-sided conversation for about 30 minutes, Martin came out and told us to shut down and head home for the day. Before he returned to his office he asked me to stay behind for a few minutes. The look of fear was evident in Pat's eyes, as was the anger in Martin's features.

After my peers departed, I was left sitting in our office alone with my thoughts, wondering what was unravelling in the office, which was not five metres away from my seat. Eventually, the door opened, and I was called in to join the meeting. The Commissioner led the discussions, and after a few pleasantries, he went straight to the point: he wanted me to join the overseas team tasked to take down the main perpetrator and centre of our investigative efforts. Initially, I would be bait online, but if all went well, I could be included in the overseas element of the operation. Martin tried to argue against my involvement due to my age and limited experience. Still, he was shut down as the Commissioner explained the urgency behind his decision to involve me. Martin looked defeated, and while he was worried about my health and welfare from the work front, he thought of me more than a worker and was scared to death for my safety.

I had no hesitation in accepting the challenging task. The fire in me burnt bright knowing my effort just might bring those responsible for countless broken lives to justice. Pat was pissed off to say the least when we told him of the developments, but I trusted both him and Martin to watch my back and keep me safe. Pat and Martin helped set up the new arrangements for our new task-force and in no time I became Molly, a frustrated teenage girl from a small country town in Far North Queensland, Australia.

The whole process was a lesson in patience, which I am the first to admit is not my strongest trait. The experts selected the social pages and sites I used, and all the conversations were monitored and analysed for patterns. My computer chats started quite tamely; I took my time and never rushed with requests and comments. I have no idea how many times I was asked for pictures of my breast and pussy, most by teenage boys but also a few by known predators. Other team members took and processed these contacts, leaving me to play the primary role of bait for the big fish.

Two months in with mediocre success, Martin was nearly ready to call the operation quits when we got the strike we were after. I had a basic script but also needed to tap into my life experiences to keep things alive and real. Eventually, I even shared images of my naked body. Fortunately, I still had a youthful figure and kept my body free of hair, so the images were accepted as genuine. I am not ashamed of my body, but sha ing it with these sick fucks did take it out of me; even though my face was not exposed, it just se med creepy, but the alternative was to use another model, and I was not willing to ask someone to do something I wasn't prepared to do.

After I shared some images of me enjoying one of my favourite vibrators, things began to heat up, and the grooming commenced in earnest. Their first step was to guide me to a VPN site linked to a dark web chat room. After that, the conversations became very graphic and manipulative. I was chatting with at least three people and regularly received stills and videos of men masturbating, asking if I needed to take them up my arse and cunt. I played the game like a pro, taking several time-outs and leaving them hanging but always coming back and playing the game.

The final play came on my birthday when I received a video of a predator wanking over a photo of my naked body. The cock had made appearances before and was easy to pick due to its size and girth and a tattoo at the base of the shaft. But the hand holding the photo sealed the deal: the unique ring I had been chasing.

The timing was about perfect as I had let slip a few weeks prior that I would be travelling to Belarus for a family holiday at the end of the year. I told them the trip was planned to allow my mother to explore her family history and meet some long-forgotten cousins. The wanker used this trip to arrange a meeting. I paused the chat for three days before returning and asked him for the details. I even shared a photo of me dressed in a school uniform. The pose, along with the effort of a great stylist, was enough to get my predator to take the bait and share a selfie from his phone.

While my Commissioner and Director had been closely viewing the whole process, Interpol was now involved with my work. So when Martin, Pat and I were summoned to Canberra to brief the main stakeholder involved in our investigation, I thought my role was being wrapped up, and agents with more field experience than me would carry out the final elements of the bust and arrest. When I finished my brief and was told to wait outside, I began getting excited about taking a break and hoped to get away with Bella and Julie. It had been a couple of months since we had enjoyed a good erotic workout, and to be honest, I needed them to take out their fantasies on my frustrated pussy. My recent work has been hard for them as I could not talk to them about my activities. They worried for me, and given my history of pushing my elf to the limit, their frustration and concern grew with my secrecy.

My thoughts of a break were shattered when I was called back into the room. Martin's face showed concern, while Pat was seething and angry. They are both good friends and mentors; they had my back and would never want me to be in danger. When they looked at me, I knew danger was imminent.

I was asked to volunteer to be the leading player in the final sting. The request took the wind out of my sails. I was a probation officer with zero field experience, which was the reason for Pat's anger. The Commissioner acknowledged this but told me he was confident I had the maturity and professionalism to pull off my role in the operation with the correct backup. So three weeks later, I boarded a plane to Europe with "my dad" Pat and "my mum" Mary, a no-nonsense field officer from one of the interstate offices.