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I close the server door shut and lock it. I pull out the key and hold it flat against the underside of the clipboard. I take an extinguisher off the wall. As Withers enters the corridor. I put the extinguisher back and tick another box on the checklist. I scribble out a note next to the box. It's nonsense. Blue biro scrawl no one could make out. I breathe a sigh of relief and nod at Withers. He's not a happy camper. Whatever I did to those servers—it worked.
The guy interrogates me. Accuses me of messing with the servers. I point out the server room is locked. He tries the handle. Opens it up. I stick my head in the room behind him and pretend to check for fire hazards. I give it the all-clear. Tell him the branch has passed the inspection. He couldn't give a toss.
I come out of the
