Max is still heaving with labored breathing, given his relative lack of physical capability. For the one who usually stays behind in the van with the monitoring equipment, his efficiency in dispatching the FBI henchmen impresses even you, giving you the swell of a proud parent. It also gives you further consideration for what you’ve always suspected - that maybe Max takes the assignment of your safety more personally than he should.
“Lack of covered tracks or not, finding me couldn’t have been easy," you offer. Keeping Max's ego well fed is important.
He shakes his head, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead with no concern for decorum. “Well, when we lost you in Belgium, I knew the easiest thing to do would be to return home and wait for new instructions. Or, I figured instead I could infiltrate your former cover, blackmail Len Ho into giving up his contacts using footage from his own security cameras, detour through San Diego to track down the shell company that has ties to Director Casey, figure out who his cleaners were, stake them out for a few weeks and then follow them here. Figured you'd show up sooner or later in the equation.”
Agency rules be damned. You give Max a big, smacky kiss.
He almost blushes. “Easy, soldier. So, you get it or not?”
Nodding, you reach into one of your utility pockets and produce the mechanism.