The Sensational Six were taken to a military base 2 hours from their mountain. Once boarded aboard a jet freighter, they were debriefed by two suited men. One; a representative of the Aussie government, who mainly stood idly by as his American comrade did most of the talking.
“Excuse me,” interrupted Mick. “Why is a Yank filling us in on this?”
The spokesman smiled amiably.
“Well, it’s because the United States are orchestrating this operation.”
“Yeah, but this has got nothing to do with you.”
Glen leaned closer to Mick’s ear.
“They’re always involved in the affairs of other countries. And they’re never involved unless they’re in charge.”
“I see,” said Mick. “In that case, carry on.”
He listened for the next 10 minutes. Little needed to be said as up to date, Glen had received any current information and passed it on to the rest of the group. They touched down in Richmond 12 hours later, where personnel diverted them from the main gates and to a waiting truck. It looked like a converted furniture removal truck. The American got out of a second vehicle behind them and nodded to the soldier by the back of the truck.
The soldier pulled open one of the rear doors and pressed a button underneath the chassis to lower a set of stairs. Leading the way inside, the American gestured to the clothes on hangars as the doors closed, shutting them in darkness. At the same time, a light flooded the interior of the vehicle, exposing racks of colourful attire. Above each hanger they saw a name displayed on a white card.
“You will notice that each costume is labelled by the name you are using in the field,” said the American. “All except for Mr McMasters of course.”
It made sense to Mick that Glen should remain costumeless as he could adopt any guise and might have to blend in.
Jordan quickly extracted his costume from the rack. It looked exactly the same as Politically Correct’s except his had the letters “CP” boldly displayed across his forehead.
Nick, otherwise known as Brick, wore a costume covered all over in a pattern of bricks and mortar.
Pat wore a costume of completely covered in tattooed patterns, making him look as if he stood in the way of children graffitiing a wall.
Ryan wore a resplendent costume of white with flowing golden cape… and a comb.
“This is for your spiked hair,” said the American.
Ryan looked over his costume. Finding no pockets, he tossed the comb aside.
“Where’s my costume?” asked Mick.
“Ah,” said the American with upraised finger. “Being the leader and superior intellect of the group, we had yours especially made.”
He reached into a box and pulled out an oversized clump of hair. In both hands, he wedged it down over Mick’s head, fitting snugly over his entire scalp. Then he picked up the discarded comb and began to comb the huge prosthetic hair piece. When he finished, he turned Mick around to face the others.