Do Not Pass Go

Burning debris rains down from Cato’s exploded laboratory.
Mithra punches the wall. “We’re right back where we started!”
“No. Cato is back where she started, only now we’re royally pissed at her and I’ve managed to steal this.” Between my fingers I lift an old, clunky, four-gig datastick. “Chances are, most of it is some really weird porn, but I bet we’ll find names, addresses, maybe even a little about her experiments.”
“Get that to Quetzal posthaste!” Mithra orders anxiously. “I mean it! Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred!”
Fantastic. My life has been reduced to Monopoly.