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 5

It had been a long day. Bartholomew McClain couldn't wait to get to his favorite nightspot, the Silver Star, down a few Bloody Marys, and forget about work. He pulled his black sports car into the parking lot, got out, and went inside.

He gazed toward the bar and frowned slightly. He didn't see the sexy blonde that usually poured his drinks. Not that the lady behind the bar wasn't a looker - with her mid-length, curly auburn hair and the blouse with the deeply-cut neckline that left little to the imagination. He smiled at her.

"Haven't seen you around here before," he ventured.

"I could say the same thing about you, darlin'," Shannon replied in a faux Southern accent. "I'm sure I would have remembered." She tossed her head flirtatiously. "What'll you have?"

"Bloody Mary on the rocks," he replied.

As Shannon went to prepare his drink, a dashing older gentleman approached McClain from the left.

"Say, aren't you Bart McClain?"

Shannon set the drink in front of McClain with a smile. He smiled back, took a long swig, then put his drink down and turned to face the gentleman. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Simpson, Hank Simpson," Jim answered smoothly. "I have a...little problem...and I was told you could help me."

McClain looked tired. "Look, Mister Simpson, I have worked all day. Now I just want to relax and enjoy my drink. So if you'll excuse me..."

"Mister McClain," persisted Jim, "Steve Mitchell said you could help me."

McClain's attention snapped back to the gentleman beside him as he recognized the name of his consultant currently assigned to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. McClain reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card.

"Call my office tomorrow and we'll talk. Now, please, let me get back to my drink."

Jim nodded his thanks and disappeared into the shadows, lurking and keeping watch as McClain ordered a second drink. Shannon winked at him, and neither he nor anyone else noticed the drug she slipped into the Bloody Mary.

A few moments later, as Shannon watched intently, McClain noticed his head start to feel a little strange. What the...? After two drinks? He'd never had trouble holding his alcohol before. "Something wrong, darlin'?" Shannon asked him.

"No," he answered, trying to look at her but having a hard time focusing. "I'm..."

He tried to say "Fine" but the world went spinning around and then went dark.

Jim came out of the shadows just in time to catch McClain as he toppled off his stool. Shannon rushed around the bar to offer assistance and the two of them half-carried, half-dragged McClain out to the car. Shannon paused just long enough to let the other bartender know she was going to help the gentleman home, and aside from that nobody at the Silver Star really noticed anything at all.

"That place has the tightest security of anywhere I've been in a long time," Max briefed the rest of the group that night when he returned from his assignment back to the large suite they were using as base camp. "I was never allowed unrestricted access to any of the offices and that officer followed me everywhere. I didn't even get to meet the head of security."

"Whom we assume is the double agent," Jim observed.

"This means you won't be able to set up any of our equipment," Grant mused. "We'll have to get in another way."

"Nicholas," said Jim, "you'll have to go inside the compound as McClain."

"Well, thanks to all of the audio and video Max sent us," Nicholas replied, shooting a grateful smile at his friend, "I think I'm ready. But, Jim," he added, "we know so little about McClain's operation that I'm not sure I can keep up my end of a conversation with this head of security - whoever he is."

"Maybe you could go early in the morning, before everyone else gets there," suggested Jim. "I'd imagine that the CEO of a company could come and go as he pleases."

"And hopefully not be subject to the same search," Grant chimed in. He handed Nicholas a small device. "Just plug this into a port on the back of McClain's computer. I will be able to remote access his hard drive and see what's in there. Then mount these two tiny cameras on opposite corners of the office. Simple installation, shouldn't take more than half an hour."

"Leave this on McClain's desk while you're there," added Jim, handing Nicholas a file folder. "He'll think he received a fax from Steve Mitchell at the FBI regarding our Mister Simpson - and hopefully will talk directly to me to set up a meeting rather than call his contact. With any luck at all, we can arrange a meeting for tomorrow afternoon."

Shannon emerged from the extra bedroom. "McClain is sleeping like a baby," she reported with a smile.

"He'll sleep till about ten in the morning."

"Good. That should give us just enough time to get in there and get everything set," replied Jim. "Max, we need you in there one more day."

Max nodded. "Hopefully, tomorrow I will be able to find out where they're keeping Patterson."

Jim rose from his chair. "Let's get some rest, everyone," he urged. "We all have a big day ahead tomorrow."