"How did you find him?" Pine asked.
"GPS tracker." Urban said.
Pine and a Quinto-wearing-big-glasses-to-cover-his-eyebrows stared at Urban with shock.
"How the hell did you manage that, Urban?" Quinto asked.
"You know Spock is the Sherlock guy of the relationship and James is the Watson figure," Urban said. "I put a tracker in his pocket. If I put it in his shoe then he would have kicked it off and taken the chip out."
"Why that is very correct," Came a familiar voice that made Pine scream like a little girl then jump into Quinto's arms. "It has occurred to me you put a tracker in my pocket." They heard a crunch. "Thank you, Klingon, that gets rid of any others possibly tracking us."
"You are welcome." Came a heavy deep voice.
"Don't you have a name?" Urban asked.
"You terrans have no honor," The Klingon said. "I shall not tell my name to dishonorable beings."
Quinto dropped Pine to the floor followed by a thud.
"A real Klingon," Quinto said. "With the forehead crest."
Spock turned in the direction of Quinto.
"We are in need of some actors to enter Area 51," Spock said. "Mr Quinto, Mr Pine, and Mr Urban it is logical to ask for your help. You clearly expected this to happen where I would ask for your help to return to my ship."
Pine and Quinto looked over toward Urban.
"About right." Urban said, cooly.
The two turned their head in the direction of Spock.
"So why do you need actors?" Pine asked.
"We are going in with a camera crew," Spock said. "And any of your friends willing to help."
"And if you betray us, your houses will be stained and tainted for future generations." The Klingon said.
"Long as I don't get killed, I am in." Urban said.
"This sure beats just watching it happen on TV," Pine said. "I am in!"
"As am I." Quinto said.