The office in the middle of nowhere

I worked for a company that allocated labour to rural areas. Workers were sent to remote farms for several weeks to do whatever work was needed. I was working on a large, isolated property with several other workers. Our boss, Jeremy, owned the farm and supervised us.

One day Jeremy offered to show me a water hole on the property. We drove across wide, empty expanses with scattered bushland. During the drive he suddenly pointed toward two dead trees and asked whether I could see something beneath them.

A large blue structure stood in the distance. As we approached, we realized it was a huge blue shipping container sitting alone in the middle of the property. Jeremy had never seen it before and wanted to investigate.

We stopped a short distance away. I had a bad feeling about the object, but Jeremy wanted to see what was inside. As we got closer, we saw a diesel generator behind it and a CCTV camera on each side. The cameras were motion activated and buzzed from side to side, following us as we moved around. I argued that someone clearly did not want us there, but Jeremy said it was his farm and whoever had put the container there was trespassing.

Despite the surveillance, the large door had only a small padlock. Jeremy had bolt cutters in his toolbox, and after a struggle we broke the lock and went inside.

Cold air rushed out. The container was air conditioned and filled with flashing LEDs and the hum of hard drives. When we switched on the lights, we saw a sophisticated but cluttered office. Large hard drives and computer equipment lined the walls. Storage boxes were stacked at the far end, and desks with monitors filled the middle.

We sat at the desks and tried to understand the computers. The screens showed endless lists of data being received and recorded. I felt increasingly uneasy because the CCTV cameras had already seen us, meaning anyone monitoring the equipment would know we were there.

I walked to the storage boxes and opened one. It contained posters, DVDs, and photographs depicting child sexual abuse. The material was neatly arranged in folders and smaller boxes. The organization made it clear that whoever had assembled it was systematic. I recoiled and told Jeremy we had to leave immediately.

We returned to the farmhouse and called the police. Officers eventually arrived and we led them back to the container. By the time we returned, the door was open and the interior was on fire. The fire department arrived after most of the damage had been done. An arson report found almost no evidence of the computer equipment, only traces of paper and cardboard.

Whoever had operated the container appeared to have learned that we had discovered it, removed most of the equipment, and set the fire before escaping. The property was vast and there was no practical way to track them. With little evidence of who was responsible, the investigation went cold.

The container remained on the farm because it was too expensive to move. I have never forgotten what I saw in those boxes.