“Are you sure this works?" Jack whispered, flashlight clenched between his teeth.
“Not even a little," muttered Edgar, the janitor from third shift, prying open the fire panel.
Jack kept watch at the corridor's bend. “You said you've bypassed this before."
“I said I've *seen* it bypassed. Huge difference, man."
Jack handed him a burner phone. “Trigger halon dump in ten minutes. Garble the cameras."
“Ten?" Edgar blinked. “That'll fry the servers."
“That's the idea."
Edgar hesitated. “You didn't get this from me."
Jack nodded. “You're a ghost."
Once alone, he pulled on a stolen lab coat, swiped his badge against the fire exit door.
*Red light.*
He pulled a gelatin thumb from his pocket—a perfect mold from Vesper's severed ID band, heat-set earlier that day.
Pressed it to the pad.
