No Way Out

By T.E. Mark

In 2018, advancements in computer science took machine intelligence to a new level. Man could upload his consciousness, thoughts and memories, into learning computers and travel in wireless networks.
By 2020, one final hurdle existed. The breaking down of a biological organism into data allowing it to live inside artificial, computer generated environments. This process was called trans-materialisation and was achieved in 2022 by a brilliant MIT student working for the CIA.
His name was Stephen Cameron.
This is the story of the chaos that followed and how, in 2025, Jason Ghent, a gamer and NSA whistle blower, and Anggie Saad, a hacker on her way to prison, were enlisted to wrest control from Cameron the secret world surveillance project he engineered and administered called iSAP.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.E. Mark
• Release date: Nov 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370608386

T.E. Mark

T. E. Mark is an Anglo-American Science Writer, Screenwriter and Editor. He has studied Architecture, Music and Literature in the UK and in the US and has been penning stories since childhood. His first novel, Fractured Horizons, set in the wonderful of Bath England, was written at the age of 12.Mark has written novels for young and adult readers and a selection of science articles for national and international magazines. He also writes and edits academic papers on a variety of subjects for universities, governmental and non-governmental organisations.Follow T. E. Mark at:temarkauthor.wordpress.commthomasmark.wordpress.comtemarkurbanscratch.wordpress.comContact T. E. Mark at: [e-mail].

Book preview

Nothing you’re about to read could ever happen.

Practically speaking.

(1)

In the dim light of the campus admissions office, Anggie rifled through the top drawer of a five-drawer file cabinet. Anxious and searching, she was frustrated but determined.

Her leggings glimmered like liquid metal—shiny black mercury in the diffusely lit office.

In her dark shirt and trainers, the twenty five-year-old with silky black hair and magic brown eyes looked like a student. Maybe an assistant working late. Hardly a burglar. Not the type to be breaking into a school.

As she dug deeper into those leaf green files, her frustration grew. Time was running out.

‘Jason. This is junk. There’s nothing here.’ She slammed the drawer hard.

[Try the second one.] The words, though spoken into a dangling ear bud mic, exploded like a cherry bomb in the sharp girl’s mind.

She grabbed the handle and pulled. ‘It’s locked!’ She tried the third, fourth and fifth.

‘They’re all locked damn-it!’

[You’re like the goddess of perseverance.]

‘Thank you. Remind me to feel honoured later. Now what?’

[Pull the top drawer out and dump it.]

She did as the young man commanded, pulling the heavy drawer from the cabinet. It fell from her grasp, crashing hard. Files and papers slid on vinyl flooring.

[Now, reach inside. The flat, vertical bar to your right. See it?]

‘Got it.’

[See if you can pull it up.]

As the anxious girl struggled with the metal bar, the office doors opened and savage lights blared.

‘FREEZE!’

‘Shit!’

Anggie gave herself to the command and stood— motionless.

‘Take your hands away from the cabinet.’ The voice was cold and almost mechanical. ‘Keep them high where I can see them and turn around.’

[Jason!]

Jason’s fingers flew like a concert pianist’s over the keyboard of his second laptop. A loaded automatic grew on the cabinet. It caught the light and the pretty girl’s eye.

‘I SAID TURN AROUND—NOW!’

Again the man’s voice. Deep—commanding— uncompromising.

[The top of the cabinet, babe. Take it.] The girl was paralysed—unresponsive. [Anggie! Get clear. Take the revolver from the cabinet.]

[But… are they…?]

[No! Just INTRANTS field modulated into the building’s Wi-Fi. But the campus cops are on their way, and with you inside…]

[But they can’t see me.]

[No, of course not. You’re a network phantom, but they will see the damage.]

[What damage?]

He didn’t answer, and the girl knew what was coming.

[Once you take care of his files, I’ll jack you up to a higher network. The local cops’ or even higher. Maybe let you mingle in the spy guys’ domain. It’ll buy us some time.]

[Can’t you take me out now?]

[I’d love to, but you need to lose them or down them or they’ll modulate along with you. And, call me selfish, if you will, but I’d like to keep our little corner of this party private. You can do this. You’ve faced them before.]

Anggie focused and slowly raised her hands. There were now three in the room. Dark suits—Masklike faces. All the same. In here—inside the STREAM, they were always the same. Cold and grey and emotionless. She could feel them moving closer.

She grabbed the automatic, the rounds, shell encased programmes, destructive programmes, and turned.

Two shots. The first man took one in the chest, glimmered red then grey then red and fell. She dove beneath a desk as shots from the others rang loud glancing off metal and piercing cabinets.

Flat-screen monitors at the window exploded. Glass, like sleet, sprinkled the tile.

With both hands on the gun, the girl breathed, waited for the firing to stop, got to the top of the desk, planted her elbows and let off several more shots catching one man in the shoulder—the force throwing him against the interior glass. The mini-blinds were electric glitter as he slid to the floor then dissolved into red and grey particles—absorbed into the network.

She dropped back behind the desk and huddled.

[The third one is at your left. I think he’s like dying to meet you. Anyway, in case you’re interested, he’ll have a clear shot in six seconds.]

[Jack me up now, Jason!]

[We need those files, babe. Especially now that they know we were here. They’ll find him! And at the frequency of a higher net you’re a ghost. No pulling drawers…

Nothing.]

Shots pelted the drawers. Anggie jumped to her feet, vaulting the desk and came down hard on the floor.

[JASON!]

[Stay low!]

The boy changed computers and again tried breaking into iSAP thinking he could cut the link to their INTRANTS. iSAP was faster.

As hard as he tried, his attempts at getting in past the government’s multi-layered security were futile. He plugged into the university box and shot off a reel of random access codes, trying to change the frequency of the Administration building’s wireless network. Number sets screamed by in front of him. This was going to take time— time Anggie didn’t have. He had another concern. The INTRANTS were modulated into the network. Killing it would send them packing—possibly up a level to the city police or any one of the Intelligence Community’s worldwide nets, or even back home to iSAP. But… so was Anggie. And, like him, she was inside. Fully trans-materialised. If his timing was off even a fraction of a second, and he’d killed the network before moving her… Well…

He decided not to risk it.

[Do everything I say, and I’ll get you out of there. You need to get into the next office.]

[Why?]

[Nicer atmosphere. Better view. You’ll love the wall mural.]

[Damn you and your fucking…]

More shots, burning the night office air, singeing metal desks, shattering windows, hummed through the air like possessed hornets.

Anggie crouched behind a movable cabinet. She was sitting with her knees up, both hands on the revolver, pulled into a tight ball. Her breathing was fast. Heavy. Shallow.

[Now, Anggie! RUN!]

She leapt from behind the cabinet and ran for the door beneath a hail of shots and dove into the adjoining office. A shot screamed by. The massive interior window exploded, showering her with shards of fresh glass.

She was face down on the floor. [Who is this guy?]

[I don’t know, but if you stay there, in a few seconds you’ll be able to ask him. Take out the lights and see if you can make the corridor.]

The girl was covered in sparkly glass. She could hear crunching footsteps from the next room. She turned, firing shots into the flush-mounted ceiling fixtures.

More glass fell as the INTRANT fired again pulverising the next window.

Seeing the opportunity, the dark-haired girl with dangerous eyes made a dash for the corridor and leapt over the knee-wall landing in the passage. More glass. Everywhere, more glass.

[Anggie! GET-UP!]

With her hands and arms bleeding, the panicked girl got to her feet. She was running down a hazy, barely lit, corridor towards the lift lobby.

‘IT’S OVER! YOU’RE NOT GETTING OUT!’ The INTRANT’s voice was exacting—cold—impassive.

More shots. Tracer light. Grazing walls. Anggie turned. ‘Bullshit!’ She opened fire. Spraying the passage until she’d emptied the clips.

The corridor was a blur as if the ocean mist had poured in. She heard a thud. [Did I…?]

[Yep. He’s down, but two more just made it in and they’re on their way to you now.]

‘How much time?’

[And if I told you loads?]

‘Shit!’

[Get back to the office. The campus police just showed up and are at the front steps.]

Anggie ran fast through the debris, sidestepping the fallen INTRANT. He was still moving, his arm and shoulder pulsing red and grey from the programme, trying to raise his gun. He pulled to his knees.

‘You guys just-don’t-get-it…’ She spun dropping him with a flying back kick to the side of his face. ‘…do you!’

[Great kick. I’ve got a snapshot for your photo album, but there’s no time for the Bruce Lee shit. You need to move.]

She was back in the office standing at the file cabinet. With little concern now for noise, she fired two shots into the lock splitting it into shrapnel.

After placing the revolver on the cabinet, she pulled open the second drawer. She began pulling out files and tossing them. Everything was happening fast. Too fast.

The attractive girl with a sharp face was part way through the third drawer when her eyes beamed. ‘All right. I’ve got them. These are the graduate applications.’

[Good. The Vs. This is our last stop on this kid. We’ve already cleaned the school computers. Now we need everything hard. We can’t leave a trace that he was ever there. Or even existed. Anywhere.]

‘I know.’ She glanced at the door. ‘How much time now?’

[Rounding up to the nearest whole number? I’d say none. I sent a wide-band scatter through the university net. I bought you an extra minute before iSAP can kill it. But I can’t do anything with the F and Bs.]

She was again tossing files until she reached the end of the drawer and found it. ‘Here you are Anthony C Vincent.

Got you.’ She slammed the drawer. ‘Jason, now what?’

[The trash bin at the side of the desk would be my choice.]

The girl moved quickly and dropped the file into the half-filled bin.

She scanned the office. The building’s lower level doors burst open. The building exploded again with ear-piercing alarms.

[Are those the…?]

[Yep…. The real deal. Flesh and Bloods pounding the hard deck. Full force, too.]

‘Damn it!’

[Look on the desk.]

Jason coded quickly. A small rectangle appeared. Two clear liquid tubes covered in copper wiring. A spring-lever at the top.

‘Got it!’

Anggie took the charge, depressed the lever and tossed it into the bin. She stepped back and looked towards the interior glass. Campus security with flashlights and guns were closing in

The bin exploded—flames and smoke searing the ceiling tiles.

‘It’s done. Now, if you don’t mind… Can we…?’

She took one glance at their harsh faces—vacant stares—seeing no one—bewildered by the damage, then vanished.

(2)

A shrill, metallic, grinding sound echoed from the street below. Masonry work, maybe. Or, industrial. Anggie walked from the sofa to the windows and pulled back the shimmering drapes.

The material was strange. Like flexible steel or aluminium but weightless..

They were 30 or more storeys above street level. The sound was everywhere.

‘What is this place?’

‘Huh?’

She turned. ‘This place.’ Her eyes swept the room. Delicately patterned wallpaper. Teak furniture. TV. Beds. Asian landscape paintings. Mini bar. ‘A hotel?’

‘Yeah. It’s like the swanky lane of the idly rich and abominably famous. I don’t know. It’s just a hard box in Hong Kong. Some research institute. Government funded.’ Anggie ran her hands down along her slender pants. Like the drapes, they felt funny. Plastic, or foil. She moved to a large mirror hung over the sleek fireplace mantle and touched her teeth. She looked perturbed as she sauntered to the desk where Jason sat—his eyes glued to a tablet. Two others were opened. One to his left, and the other to his right. His fingers were pounding frenetically and his young face, glowing with excitement, was stretched and determined.

A simple, but accurate, analogy would be a teenager in a 90s arcade playing three games at the same time. Almost psychotic concentration.

‘What’s this getup?’ she said dragging her hands along her hips.

Jason unplugged his eyes from the screen, leaned back and scanned her from the floor up. ‘What? You don’t like it? I pulled it from an online fashion magazine.’

She looked pouty as she fell back onto the sofa. ‘It feels like aluminium foil, or plastic wrap, or something. And my teeth feel like the same material.’

Jason chuckled, smirking with his eyes.

‘Hold on.’ He swivelled to the computer at his left.

‘Which would you prefer…’ he glanced over his shoulder.

‘… I adjust the teeth or the pants?’ She scowled.

‘Okay-Okay.’ His fingers danced over the keyboard. He turned and smiled. ‘Are we cool?’

Shelving her comic petulance, the girl ran her tongue over her teeth and showed a hint of softening. ‘Better.’

The slender young man, boyish face, blonde, handsome, casual in light jeans and T-shirt, grinned. His hazel green eyes seemed back-lit.

‘Why don’t you order something?’

‘Like what? Room service?’ Her voice was sharp—peevish.

‘Hell, yeah. This is like the Four Seasons, Hong Kong, babe. Or a good facsimile anyway. Get anything you want.’

She huffed. ‘What’d be the point?’

Jason pulled away from his trio of tablets, swivelled his chair and rolled over to the girl. He took her hands. ‘Listen,’ he grabbed the leather bound menu and hotel guide from the glass and metal wall table and handed it to her. ‘Order something you’d normally order, like, for…’

‘…What? Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Does it even matter in here?’

‘I was actually reaching for nostalgia.’

‘Ha! Nostalgia. You’re warped.’

He grasped her mood and got up from the mesh office chair to sit with her. He took her face in his hands. ‘Look.

You’re always down after a mission. I’m not sure why. Maybe a chick thing.’ He smiled and ducked. ‘I can probably fix that if you’ll let me…’

‘NO! Not a chance. It’s bad enough having you plug me into your little VR games for a simple break-in…’

‘Hey! Nothing’s simple anymore. Not with iSAP. You know that. The game’s changed. Everything’s changed.’

She again ran her hands over her liquid pants and leaned her head back. She squeezed her forehead between her thumb and forefinger at the temples. ‘Programming my hair and eye colour for me. Picking my clothes. I don’t need you messing around in my head too. And by the way. No underwear again?’

She squirmed and ran a hand under her breasts.

‘VPL, babe.’ He grinned. ‘Just tryin to help you avoid the visible panty lines.’ He eyed her—smirked. ‘Especially with that tush!’

She was nonplussed.

Jason eyed her more compassionately. His voice more serious. He touched her cheek with then swept her bangs from her eyes. ‘Listen babe, I need another minute. Order some breakfast. Get pancakes and fruit. And coffee.’

As Anggie opened the menu, Jason reclaimed his chair and swivelled over to the maple and blue glass desk. He was determined, and his constant pounding on the keyboard was making her nervous.

She dropped the menu in her lap.

‘Why do you keep trying?’

‘Oh… you know. More of a habit now than anything.’ His fingers flew. His eyes darted from one screen to the next. ‘Remember Asteroids?’ He continued typing.

‘Sort of.’

‘It’s like that. You never really won, but the more often you played, you always seemed to get a little… Damn!’ He slammed his hand on the table.

‘What?’

‘That bastard booted me again.’ Disgusted, he kicked away from the desk.

‘You’ll never beat him. He’ll never let you in.’

He turned to the suede sofa. His eyes sharp and narrow.

‘I’ll get in. Whoever he is… He’s…’

‘His name is Stephen.’ They turned towards the familiar voice. ‘And I’m afraid our little Anggie may be right.’

‘Oh, hey Drew.’ Jason rolled his eyes. ‘Nice of you to pop in. I think Friends is on in a few minutes.’

‘Hi Drew.’

Anggie was more cordial.

In his slick charcoal suit and silver tie, Drew was the epitome of the corporate bigshot, inside or out. They were sure of it.

The shoes were blinding and his white shirt glowed as if showered in UV light.

‘Stephen, eh?’ Jason shook his hands through his foppish hair.

Drew walked to Anggie. He took a chair from the small table at the window and sat facing her. ‘What’s the matter angel?’

She breathed out a perturbed sigh.

‘She always comes back like that. I told her I could…’

‘…I said no, Jason. So, leave it.’

‘Well,’ started Drew after scanning the room’s plush interior. He plucked an antique Ming Dynasty vase from the mantle, studied it, and shot Jason an approving grin. He carefully replaced it. ‘You’ll be happy to know, we have young Tony Vincent already inside the BASE in Houston. He showed no hesitation accepting the offer. He should be acclimated and active sometime later. As of,’ he scanned his watch, ‘about 11 minutes ago, Anthony Coleridge Vincent never took a breath of good old vintage Earth air, and his parents were, sadly, childless.’ He turned to Anggie. ‘And…’ he smiled at both of them. ‘He never applied to, or received an admittance letter from, the University of British Columbia.’ His eyes settled on the leather-clad girl. ‘I watched you today from Houston. Needless to say, you were brilliant.’

Anggie looked casually up into Drew’s blazing blue eyes. His smile was relaxing—almost fatherly.

Jason was again buried behind his computers slamming away—his face going through all the same contortions of a kid in a video arcade 40 years earlier. Anggie chuckled as she watched him—imagining him a 14-year-old gamer geek cutting classes to hang out all day trying to win at asteroids in full acceptance of the punishment awaiting him when he’d head home to face his parents. She felt a wave of something like comfort, though, feelings, inside, were not the same. There was something dry about them.

Artificial, like everything else.

You’d get a wave that was something like happy, or sad, but it seemed to end too quickly. No taper. Just, on, then off. Like electric lights. Switched.

Jason leaned back—his fingers locked behind his head— buried in his hair. ‘Stephen, huh?’ Drew turned.

‘A while back we talked about iSAP. We talked about the feasibility studies in 2018, its first three phases of construction in 2022 and activation in 2023. You asked me if…’

‘…you knew who its brainchild was.’

Drew’s face held a grin, but his eyes moved from intrigued to almost dangerous. Though conceivably the most controlled man alive, there were moments, like when being interrupted, that his face would change. But only for seconds. ‘Right. And I said then that we