Yeah, I noted that earlier, DD. In my case, at the time, it was modeling...computer modeling for a computer game. This was a commercial purpose they did not approve of, hence the guy at the back door two hours before opening.
But this was *nothing* compared to the trouble I, and my team, got into during the research for the WWII submarine simulation. The only completely original WWII U.S. sub is the USS Cod in Cleveland, plus it's sitting at a dock on the water, near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. After the Hall asked them to paint the Cod yellow, the sub folks became extremely suspicious of anyone who might have a commercial interest in the boat. I was warned how paranoid the Cod Foundation was about this. Yet, with the low budget I had, and the low profit margin on sub sim computer games, I wanted to see the Cod before I arranged payment for hard goods - photos and the like.
No matter how many times I told my guys *not* to mention that we worked for a computer game company, some dope let it slip. Despite the fact that this was simply walk-around research, I was summoned from the sub and put on the phone with a furious fellow who demanded that we stay right there until the police arrived, claiming we were engaging in theft of intellectual property.
Naturally you'd have to be an absolute imbecile to do anything other than FLEE IMMEDIATELY. Still, my team looked puzzled as I ordered them to get in the van with extreme haste, and get us out of there.
That excessively honest member of my team then mentioned that he told a docent the name of our company and our address in Virginia. We were on the Interstate when the cell phone rang. It was our CEO:
"Do not speed, and do not stop until you have left Ohio. There has been a warrant issued for your arrest."
I've heard McCartney's "Band on the Run" but this was absurd.
Later I spoke with the head of The Cod Foundation, assured him we took nothing but glances, and agreed to pay a fair price for a photo shoot. It's much easier to negotiate from another state rather than from jail.
Only recently have I returned to Ohio...nobody slapped me in irons

No, this story is neither fiction, nor an exaggeration.
Historical research can be a tricky business
Jonathan