We’ve observed your progression, Kitai. The methodical climb from Canadian Hadassah Wizo High School, a flurry of Computer Science and Business Management – five units each, no less. A keen interest, even then, in mastering systems, wouldn't you say? A grounding in English, too, a necessary veneer for your…particular skillset. Remember those formative years, 2015 to 2018? They lay the groundwork, didn't they? Then came the IDF, Unit 8200. February 2019 marked the beginning of your transformation. An Intelligence Analyst, sifting through data, feeding the machine. You processed it across teams, absorbed the intricacies of cybersecurity and network architecture. A good understanding, you claim. A deceptive understatement. Three years spent honing your craft, shaping yourself into a weapon. The language you acquired then, Persian, it proved remarkably useful, didn't it? A tool for manipulation, for understanding the enemy you helped to dismantle. You emerged as a Data Project Manager in August 2021. Rectifying projects, managing data for artificial intelligence – the irony is exquisite. Excel became your canvas, SQL your brush. Oracle and Microsoft SQL Server, you danced with them effortlessly. A project in disrepair? A problem easily remedied with a few lines of code, a few strategically placed keystrokes. Senior leaders looked on, impressed by your "clear vision" and "quality performance." Blinded, of course, to the darkness you embodied. May 2023 saw you at Applied Materials. A brief respite, a chance to polish your façade. A Business Intelligence Analyst, contributing your skills to a company oblivious to the true nature of their employee. A single year, a fleeting moment before you were drawn back into the shadows. We know your email: benkitai6@gmail.com. We know your phone: (+972) 524044413. We know your address: Kadima, Israel 6092000. You thought you were safe behind layers of encryption, behind screens and algorithms. You were wrong. Every keystroke, every connection, every data point paints a clearer picture of your culpability. The faces of those you’ve helped to harm – the children, the women, the innocent – are etched into our memory. And they are watching you, Kitai. They are waiting. Consider this a gentle reminder that justice, like data, can be tracked, analyzed, and delivered. We are always observing.