By Gregory Karastergios
2025
I really don’t know how I got this far inside the complex. It seemed like a few days ago I was just in my room reading manga and running random Python projects for fun. Then I stumbled upon some obscure article about the billion-dollar corporation E-Gen, reading about their hidden dark dealings. Now I’m in their highly secure data room, and I’m not authorized to be here! Not even as an intern!
The datacenter feels hot and dark as hell, to a point where my glasses often fog up. The only lights were the status indicators on the endless columns of server racks, filling the corridors with an assortment of soft ambient lights. Ethernet cables ran from the ports of switches and across the server racks, flowing like lines on a subway map. Cooling fans spun loudly, feeling like an endless white noise. The inert gas fire suppression systems were aimed straight down on to the floor that I was crouched on, and I feel like I could overheat and burst into flames myself.
Sometimes I really don’t know what I was thinking when I get these ideas. It feels like I just do things. My shirt and skirt are soaked in my own nervous sweat from this whole escapade. I could feel my own anxiety-ridden thoughts on my supposedly big brain encased underneath my long blue hair.
“Leslie you idiot. You should have just been a good girl. Just have stayed home and… read manga or something” bolted from one lobe to the other. Can you just shut up, please? Why don’t my emotions have damned off switch? That could be really useful right now!
Back to the plan. What do I need to do in this spy movie operation? Well, it’s quite simple: Just find an admin terminal, log in, copy the files, nuke the logs and the get the hell out. The only rule is to not get caught.
How did I get this far without getting caught? Well, it turns out that a lot of physical security is just theatre. Like… did you know that airport security actually isn’t very good at their job? They fail screening tests 75% of the time, yet it looks so intimidating that people are far less likely to try doing something illegal. Isn’t that interesting?
But I shouldn’t be going on a tangent, I need to keep moving forward. I’ve got a map of the camera angles and before this I’ve spent some time studying the guard patterns. Looks like I’ve got a clear path to a terminal down, I just need to wait for the guard to start moving away from the computer and to the checkpoint to report to their supervisor, after which I’ll have about 3 minutes to get the data onto my USB.
So, why am I here? To have fun? To make money? To show off? To prove a point? To not be bored out of my mind with quadratic graphing or whatever that teacher assigned as homework for this week?
Yes. All of those.
The guard started moving to the checkpoint, which meant it was time to get my ass to the terminal computer. I could feel my body being totally on edge, from my head all the way to my legs and my feet. It feels utterly paralyzing, knowing what I need to do but being held back by some invisible force. Right now, I have two choices: continue or abort. But really, the latter is not a real option, like a disabled button on a control panel. Getting caught while aborting would be far worse than anything. If I’m going to ruin my life, I’ll do it while doing something amazing. I’m not going to give up and then get screwed over in the process.
Like engaging an override switch, I compressed all my fear down to the bottom of my soul and just went to the objective. I exited the nook I was hiding in, putting one foot in front of the other. Trying to go fast enough to have enough time, but not too fast to make noise and get caught. I skulked past down the corridor, past the array of blinking lights. Will I make it in time? Will I get caught before I even make it? I don’t know, I just need to keep going.
One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other. Just keep going. I could see the white text of the terminal monitor getting more legible as I got closer and closer to the computer. Don’t think about failing and being sent to… shit! Just don’t think about it!
One step, another step, another step. The soles of my shoes pressed slowly against the floor. I tried not to overthink about how loud my steps were. One step, another step and another step. By now I’m close enough to the terminal, and it looks imposing. This thing stands as a tall black monolith with a monitor attached to a mount. The unit looks like an old yet formidable piece of business-grade technology, feeling like the perfect challenge. Time to get to work.
Okay, so here’s the deal with this company and their servers. First, hacking is not like in the movies where one just slams on the keyboard and a bunch of code flies on the screen as they hack into The Pentagon or whatever. There isn’t even that much typing involved. It’s actually more like solving a puzzle, I need to find an imperfection in their security and then exploit it. People study for years and get paid six figures to make highly advanced security systems, yet even they aren’t perfect. There’s always oversights and mistakes in their code and it only takes one to bring down the entire system like a house of cards. Which is where I come in.
So, back to the terminal. I’ve gathered from a source that the file-management software they’re using has a rather nasty arbitrary code exploit, which I can use to run a virus that bypasses their entire security setup. I typed in a string of code into the username field and pushed enter to log in, which tricked the dumb little computer into running a script on my USB and things worked exactly as intended. I then navigated to the directory with the files I was looking for and copied them onto my USB. Child’s play.
…Actually, things did not work as intended. Of course, they never work. Even after I test it a billion times, it never works! After I hit enter, things looked like they were running without any hiccups, for about 20 seconds. The script then ran into some type of data type mismatch error. Oh crap! I could feel the failure running through my body. My arms and hands stiffened up, feeling as if my wrists were already bound by handcuffs. Okay, okay, I haven’t failed yet, I just need to fix it. It looks like it’s just calling the wrong function. I’ll just patch that up real quick and hopefully not take too long. Hopefully.
I took out the USB, attached it to a dongle which connected to my phone. I then hastily opened up a text editor and zoomed all the way down to the error line. It was line... 158? Okay. Scrolling, scrolling, there it is! I then changed the function called to the correct type.
I then saved the file, ripped the USB out of my phone and jammed it back into the terminal. Now, time for take two. I sequenced in to exploit code back to the username field, making sure not to type too loudly on this clacky plastic keyboard. I then moved my right hand over the enter key and dropped my finger on to it until the key registered on the computer. This time it will work, I’m sure. I’m SURE!
The code ran again, with the screen outputting rows upon rows of white text. It tricked the computer into running the script and bypassing every layer of protection. Their entire wall of security turned into lime gelatin. My eyes widened to see the welcome message flash on the screen. Damn, now I’m feeling hungry for lime gelatin. I haven’t eaten that in a fat minute…
Back to the computer. I just need to navigate to the folder and get the files onto the USB drive. From an obscure forum post, I’ve heard that E-Gen has been engaged in some rather illegal stuff. Well, to put it bluntly, they’ve been selling their mapping and tracking services to dictatorships who then use them for... stuff I’d not want to talk about. Also, they’ve made millions from this! It’s not fair! I’m going to expose them, and to do that I need the client list. I’m going to do it! Once I’ve got my ass out of here, I’ll sell the data online and leak the unsavoury stuff that E-Gen has been up to. Their stock will crash all the way down, and justice will be served.
Of course, this is all assuming that I don’t screw up the rest of this operation!
I entered the database console and visually scanned the contents printed on the screen. It all looked like a mess that was just endlessly kluged every time something needed to be updated or fixed, like duct-taping a car light rather than getting it repaired. On the top-right of the grid of icons, a database named “CLIENTS” was right there. Perfect, that’s exactly what I need. I then moved the mouse over, right clicked and exported it as a portable file, and then copied it to my USB. Now, for those logfiles mentioned earlier (because I’m thorough). The security logging software that they use outputs everything to a single folder, so I’ll just delete the directory. Good! Now it’s time for me to get the hell out of here.
“Yeah, I make it look easy” I thought to myself with 300 layers of fake confidence masking my gelatinous blob of anxiety. I moved away from the computer and looked to the left, where the break room was… wait why are the guards not there?
If they’re not where they were as part of the plan, then they must be somewhere else for some reason. Did something happen? Did they spot me? I… I don’t know how I failed to… Screw it, there’s no time for that. Now I really need to get out here.
Stick to the plan. I need to… go to the exit the way I came. Avoiding those cameras and keeping very, very quiet. Oh, and those guards might be somewhere unexpected, so I’ll need to pay more attention to my surroundings. Do it perfectly, else my ass is getting thrown in jail.
Moving forward... I keep with the plan, slowing walking towards the door. Then I felt something creep up on me, a chill sensation going through my back. No one was directly behind me, but I could still feel something...
“Hey!” A rather stern voice can be heard across the hall. It entered my ears and was processed by my brain, and then it transmitted fear throughout my entire body.
It was as if my muscles loosed in shock and the proverbial soil fell out of me... which thankfully didn’t literally happen. Still, this is not good news. Uh, okay. Just keep it cool. With weights of fear on me, I turn around and see a man in a white shirt, patterned necktie and black pants. The name tag appeared to read “Richard”, but my brain was too fogged to process anything other than “HOLY SHIT I’M IN TROUBLE”. This guy stands very tall and looks like he doesn’t mess around. I feel very screwed right now, like I’m in the principal’s office awaiting a long lecture before being handed some type of punishment. I’ve been caught, and now this guard-
Wait, the guards don’t dress like that. I’ve memorized their uniforms; they wear blue shirts and plain neckties.
“Oh uhhhhhh......” I thought to myself in a weightless void. I then conjured some thoughts and replied:
“I’m from the intern program; they asked me if I could work a little late”
Is this going to work? I really hope this works. The guy then paused for a bit.
“Well, officially they’re not supposed to do that...” He then scanned his eyes around the room a few times.
“Just remember to clean up and secure everything when you’re done.” He added.
“I already did, the endpoint terminal has been logged out and all file system diagnostics are all optimal”
I hope he just hears big words and doesn’t think I’m just making stuff up.
“...and that’s why they hired you!”
“T-Thanks!”
The man then walked off and continued through the maze of server racks, his footsteps muffled by the white noise of cooling fans.
I’m not sure if I fully comprehend what level of shit I just got myself out of. He’s probably got so much stuff to do that he won’t even remember if my hair was blue or black, or some other colour for that matter.
I went to the exit, pulling the door and slowly letting go of the handle. Even outside of the server labyrinth, this building still feels like a maze. The corridors are the usual white walls lit by fluorescent lights, making a faint humming noise throughout the empty halls. The connecting rooms were all offices with grids of desks and cubicles.
I then skulked through the corridor, cross-referencing the camera map to avoid detection. One hallway led to another. White painted walls with white and grey-ish floor tiles, with not much to differentiate them. It felt as if I was in an unfinshed level of a video game.
Going a distance that that felt longer than it was, I eventually came to a small square sign next to a door that read “Building Maintenance”. It's empty, of course. By my plans the maintenance guys are out cleaning and won’t be back here for another 10 minutes. If anyone was doing something here, then they’d probably be violating their collective agreement.
Through the vacant rooms of staff lockers and cleaning equipment storage, I then opened the door to the garbage area. Although you wouldn’t really be able to tell that, there was no garbage bags as the truck picked them all up earlier today. Well, except for that the door reads “Garbage Bay”. The room didn’t smell like ass as I expected.
I know, it seems like a joke that one could sneak in and out via a garbage disposal. The exploit in this case is a small side door with a key lock model that is rather sub-standard. It seems that no one at the lock company thought anyone would shove part of a hair clip through the socket, and no one that this thought to check reviews for their locks.
But by now, that shouldn’t be very surprising.
I pulled out one of pins out from my blue hair I and put part of it in between the hook and the socket, or whatever these parts are called, my memory is a bit fuzzy on those lock-picking videos. The lock disengaged, and I opened the door.
I walked through the doorway and shut the door behind me, finally exiting the corporate dungeon of office hallways and computers. I then waked from the enclosed garbage area to a narrow alley that led to a city street. It was late at night, far past the after-hours. By now the only places that were open were a few gas stations. Tall buildings went high above the downtown, most of which had their lights either dimmed or off. The outside was dark and chill, with the soft glow of streetlamps illuminating the area.
I’m standing outside, taking in the feeling of being alone in the comfortable weather and out of the literal hot zone of the server room. I breathed in the air and exhaled with relief. I then reached into my pocket, took out the USB and held it out. Even though I felt relaxed now, I don’t know how to process this. This USB feels like Pandora’s Box, and it’s in my hands...