Disclaimer:
I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein. I receive no compensation or other tangible benefit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended. I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then. Please read and review!
Chapter 4
Max pulled the blue SUV into the parking lot of the reddish-brown, three-story building, discreetly marked "McClain Consulting" with only a small white sign. He picked up the black backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
"Here goes nothing," he murmured, knowing Grant was listening in through the camera on his glasses.
Be careful, Grant typed onto the LCD as Max got out of the SUV and walked to the door. A knock, and the door opened.
"You must be our new security guard," greeted a young officer, at least a head shorter than Max and of some sort of Oriental descent. Grant immediately began to capture still photos of the officer at various angles, in case Nicholas needed them later on.
"Rex Potter, at your service," Max grunted.
"This way, Mister Potter," the officer summoned without giving his name, and Max followed him inside the building. He immediately noticed that there were virtually no windows in any of the rooms, and all of the interior doors were crafted of solid steel. As Max looked around to take it all in, Grant got a good look as well.
"The place is built like a fortress," Grant muttered, as Jim and Nicholas came alongside him to watch the monitor.
The officer unlocked one of the steel doors and ushered Max inside.
"Your backpack, sir," he requested, holding out his hand.
"Why?" Max inquired.
"Mister Potter, we deal in matters requiring absolute confidentiality here," the officer answered calmly. "For that reason, no one is allowed to take any personal items past this point. You may leave your bag here and pick it up when you leave."
"And no doubt it will be searched in the meantime," Jim commented, glad that they had decided to let Max scope the place out before stuffing the backpack with cameras and listening devices.
The young officer disappeared for a moment and returned with a camera and a computerized fingerprinting kit. Max submitted to having his fingers pressed against the glass and then allowed the officer to snap several head and shoulder shots.
Max and his teammates all held their breaths for a moment as the officer asked him to remove his glasses for photographic purposes, but afterward he was allowed to put them back on.
The officer disappeared for another moment - no doubt to deliver the camera and fingerprinting equipment back to where he'd gotten it - and then returned a second time.
"Now, Mister Potter, I need you to remove your clothes."
"What?" Max cried incredulously.
"As I said, no personal effects are allowed beyond this point. Everything you need will be supplied for you, including the uniform you will wear on the job. You can leave your clothes here and change back into them when your shift is over."
Max, seeing no alternative, slipped off his jacket, shirt, and pants, as well as his socks and shoes as instructed. The young officer walked around Max, obviously examining him to make sure he was not wearing a wire. Then, to Max's chagrin, he spoke again.
"You are not completely disrobed, Mister Potter."
"Are you serious?" Max asked, for he was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.
"We truly cannot be too careful, Mister Potter."
Max, a little embarrassed, bent to remove his boxers. Grant, himself blushing at the violation of his friend's modesty, closed the laptop screen temporarily, though he could still hear every word.
"Very well, sir," the officer encouraged. "You will find your uniform and suitable intimate attire in that wardrobe," he said, pointing. "I will give you a few moments to get dressed, and then you will come with me."
Max did not speak until he had located clothing in his size and gotten dressed.
"Some nerve," he sneered.
Grant lifted the laptop screen. I know, buddy. Stay calm, he typed.
After another moment, the officer urged Max to follow him into another room, where he came face to face with a second man.
"Are you McClain?" Max asked, knowing it was the same man whose image he had seen on Jim's video screen but not wishing for him to know that Max already had that information.
"That's right," the man replied, extending his hand. "Bartholomew McClain. Nice to meet you, Mister Potter."
He shook Max's hand firmly. "I trust you understand the, um, precautions that we had to take to make sure that you are who you claim to be."
Max nodded. "Well, since I'm standing here, I assume everything was in order."
McClain smiled. "It seems we are lucky to have you aboard, Mister Potter. You obviously are very good at what you do...if a bit nearsighted."
Jim, watching from his vantage point, smiled slightly, relieved that he had asked the Secretary to include the rigged glasses as part of Max's new identity - and relieved that McClain had accepted the accessory.
"Keep an eye on things, Grant," Jim said, giving his teammate an affectionate pat on the shoulder, satisfied that Max's con was going smoothly for the time being. "It'll soon be time for me to meet our friend Mister McClain. Shannon should be in place any second." His heart began to flutter slightly, as it always did at the start of a new mission. "Ready or not, McClain, here we come."