"Director Strategic Supervision"

You cast a last, longing glance at the "Webster" name plate, sigh and follow Sara's lead. The door of the office is not locked, and the room inside looks huge. It's certainly bigger than the office of your own manager, with a protruding desk, with a big screen at the wall, with a bunch of indoor plants, a coffee table surrounded by couches and big windows.

Sara rushes to the computer and wants to turn it on. It turns out to be running already, a quick move with the mouse brings three big screens flickering to life. This is your lucky day.

But also another warning. If the person working here has not shut down the computer, he or she will certainly head back to the office after the meeting. You grab the mouse and start searching for folders. Sara stares at you.

"Are you mad?!", she hisses. You look up, confused.

"You will never find anything that way!", Sara says, and hastily grabs a USB stick from the desk. "Here!", she says, "plug this in and copy as much as you can. We search the files later!"

You blush and suddenly feel a bit stupid. Nervously, you copy several big folders which seem to contain data of some sort. The progress bar seems to creep along in an excruciatingly slow pace.

Then you hear hands clapping outside from the conference room. Subdued, but clearly recognizable.

"Hurry, they finish their meeting!", urges Sara. You look at the progress bar which is still creeping along, and decide to break this off now. Snatching the USB stick from the computer, you let it slide into one of your pockets, and hasten out of the room. Sara follows suit, and pushes you around a corner, away from the corridor that leads to the conference room. You hear footsteps approaching and cower behind a corner, both holding your breath.

The footsteps pass.

You hurry to the stairs. That was close. Incredibly close.