Chapter 10: A Reluctant Release

The drive back to my office was a route I’d traveled countless times before, either for work or with Becca accompanying me. But this trip was different. Instead of Becca beside me in the passenger seat, she was in the back, locked in restraints.

I glanced back and saw her smiling cheerfully. She playfully tugged at her handcuffs, giving me that familiar, flirtatious smile she reserved for special moments. It was good to have my Becca back, even in her current state. Her bubbly charm was in full swing, a stark contrast to her demeanor just two days prior.

As we passed familiar scenery, Agent Reinhardt informed us that her boss would be meeting us at my headquarters to discuss the situation. The FBI was not pleased with how things had unfolded. From what Agent Reinhardt had hinted and what Lisa had mentioned over the phone, the FBI and my company were pointing fingers at each other, trying to shift the blame.

We acknowledged Agent Reinhardt, and she assured us that as soon as her boss provided her with the amended paperwork indicating that the transport was solely for evaluation purposes, Becca would be released.

Becca asked, “So, I have to walk through the building like this?”

Agent Reinhardt responded, “I’m afraid so unless we can arrange something else in the next 30 minutes. But it might be too late to coordinate any changes at this point.”

Becca nodded, accepting the situation with her usual calm demeanor. “That’s fine.”

Learning from our past experience, I made sure we had a parking spot in the back. As we arrived, I pointed to Lisa’s designated parking space, which was reserved for the company’s upper echelon. Situated in a shaded area close to the back entrance, it was highly coveted and fiercely protected by Lisa. Given that she often wore stilettos, the short walk to and from her car was a welcome convenience, with partial coverage providing her some shelter in inclement weather.

I helped Becca out of the car, and as we approached the building, it felt surprisingly welcoming. There was no pomp or ceremony, no crowds, or hurried exits—just a simple, uneventful entrance.

Inside the main lobby, the two security officers greeted us. They appraised Becca with curiosity and professionalism. One of the guards informed us that the FBI representative was already in my boss’s office and waiting for us.

We were escorted by one of the guards via a service elevator located at the back of the building. There were significantly fewer onlookers this time. Becca seemed unperturbed by the occasional curious glance or head popping up from behind a cubicle.

Eventually, we reached Lisa’s office, where her secretary ushered us inside.

Lisa and a tall man stood up to greet us. The man had a salt-and-pepper beard and wore a dark suit. He introduced himself as James Callahan, an assistant director with the FBI. Mr. Callahan was the archetypal no-nonsense figure, highly ranked and used to dealing with high-stakes situations. Despite his stern demeanor, there was a practiced ease in his mannerisms, indicating he was adept at navigating bureaucratic and political nuances.

Becca extended her restrained hands to the assistant director, who shook them gently. He noticed the thumb cuffs and cast a puzzled glance at Agent Reinhardt. It was clear from her expression that she was unsettled, realizing she should have removed the miniature handcuffs before we left the car. The assistant director didn’t press the issue, prioritizing the immediate concerns over the specifics of Becca’s restraints.

We expressed our gratitude for the care package and the private jet arranged for us. It spared Becca the embarrassment of enduring yet another commercial flight under such circumstances.

Lisa responded with a warm smile, “We’re thrilled to have you back, Rebecca, and we’re sorry about this situation. I’ll present you and Ben with the package the company has put together as a result of everything that happened. I hope you both will be happy with it.”

However, Lisa’s expression shifted to one of seriousness. “But first, we need to get through some formalities.”

We settled into the chairs, and the discussion began. We recounted the details of what had transpired, filling in the gaps that Lisa and the assistant director didn’t know. Becca sat in her chair with a reserved demeanor, her silence and the visible thumb cuffs underscoring the gravity of her experiences over the past two days. Her body language was calm but firm, reflecting both her resilience and the seriousness of the situation.

Mr. Callahan listened intently, his expression showing concentration and frustration as he absorbed the information. It was clear he wanted to put the issue behind him. Still, the complexities of the situation made it easier said than done.

As the meeting progressed, it was apparent that the assistant director’s primary goal was to smooth things over and mitigate any further fallout. Despite his authoritative position, he was willing to bend some rules to resolve the matter swiftly. He carefully navigated the conversation, seeking to balance the interests of the FBI with the needs of my company.

With each detail discussed, it became evident that both sides had a personal stake in concluding the matter amicably. For Becca and me, the outcome of this meeting would determine how quickly she would be freed and how soon we could move past this challenging chapter.

After much back and forth, Mr. Callahan looked at Becca with his firm, no-nonsense demeanor. “Ms. Bounds,” he began, addressing her directly, “while the FBI does not acknowledge any wrongdoing and maintains that you were well cared for and safe during your time under Agent Reinhardt’s supervision, we do recognize that there was an error in the filing of your paperwork.”

Becca’s eyes flickered with skepticism and curiosity as she listened closely. The assistant director continued his tone, which was firm yet slightly formal. “This paperwork,” he said, handing a new set of documents to Agent Reinhardt, “acknowledges that your transport has concluded and that the Bureau will provide no further details regarding this matter. On behalf of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I extend our best wishes for your future endeavors.”

He rose from his seat, indicating that his and the Bureau’s part in the proceedings was complete. Before he exited the room, he cast a final glance at Lisa. “I expect you’ll get the needed signatures and that the report will be in my hands early next week, Ms. Jenkins.”

As the assistant director departed, we turned to Agent Reinhardt, who had been handling the new paperwork. She looked at Becca with a reassuring smile. “If you could please stand up, I’ll remove those restraints.”

Becca hesitated for a moment but then chose to remain seated. Her eyes met Agent Reinhardt’s, and she asked with a hint of frustration, “That’s it? That’s all the FBI is going to do?”

Agent Reinhardt’s smile remained calm as she replied, “You received an indirect apology from a man who usually stays in his office and rarely travels for such matters. While it might not be what you expected, it’s more than many people receive.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “As the assistant director noted, this transport has concluded, and the Bureau will provide no further details regarding the past few days.”

Becca nodded, understanding the agent’s point. It was clear that while the resolution might not have been perfect, it was more than what could have been anticipated.

Agent Reinhardt then glanced between Becca and me, a knowing smile on her face. She placed the leather bag on the table she had pulled from the back of the SUV before we entered the building. She then addressed both Lisa and me with a hint of mischief in her tone. “As of now, nothing that happens after this point goes into the report. We are now off the record. Is that clear?”

Lisa and I exchanged puzzled looks but nodded in acknowledgment.

The agent proceeded to open the leather bag, revealing its contents with a practiced ease. She pulled out a set of long-chained leg cuffs, a pair of hinged handcuffs, a heavy leather waist belt with an attached D-ring, a waist chain connecting two cuffs that each hung from a short chain, and a set of padlocks identical to the ones Becca had been wearing. She also retrieved a small box, which she opened to reveal a tool that resembled a small screwdriver but was actually a specialized handcuff key, along with a loop of additional handcuff keys and keys for the padlocks.

Holding up the screwdriver-like device, she explained, “This is perfect for getting cuffs on and off. Much easier than using the standard handcuff key.” She placed the tool on the table next to the box containing the other keys.

Turning to us, she said, “Sometimes agents misplace these bags amid the chaos of prisoner transports, or they’re stolen from vehicles. For instance, this bag went missing between the time I left here and arrived at my office. It must have been stolen from the SUV while I was getting gas and stepped into the convenience store because the pump didn’t give me a receipt.”

She then looked directly at me. “I think Ms. Bounds would prefer that you’d be the one that takes her out of those restraints.” Her tone turned more serious as she added, “Hinged cuffs behind the back. Non-negotiable.”

With a final smile at Becca, she stood up and walked out, leaving us in a state of both surprise and relief.

Becca and I exchanged smiles, a sense of understanding passing between us.

Lisa, clearly baffled by the exchange, exclaimed, “What just happened?!”

“It’s a long story,” I responded with a hint of amusement, “and off the record.”

Lisa pointed at Becca, still restrained. “Are you letting her out?”

Becca tilted her head slightly and responded, “I’m okay. Can we talk about that compensation package? I’d like to be taken home.”

Lisa, clearly puzzled, replied, “Okay, sweetie. Sure. Um...”

Lisa then began detailing the package. As promised, the monetary settlement was significantly increased, and with what we’d already saved, it would be enough to cover the down payment on a first home that Becca wanted so desperately. But that wasn’t all. The company offered several additional perks to make the package even more attractive.

Becca was to receive stock options in the company, offering a long-term financial benefit. The company also included a luxury vacation package, allowing Becca to choose the destination for a well-deserved getaway. Free counseling services were provided to aid in processing the ordeal. To top it all off, Becca was given a personalized gift card for a high-end store, letting her select something special just for herself.

With these additions, the compensation package was designed to offer not just financial relief but also to acknowledge and address the personal impact of the situation.

We expressed our gratitude to Lisa for the enhanced package. I gathered the restraint items from the table, placed them into the leather bag, and then zipped the bag closed.

“Ready to go home?” I asked Becca.

She nodded with excitement.

Lisa glanced at us and said, “There’s one more thing.” Becca and I looked at her. Noting our attention, Lisa continued, “To receive the additional money beyond what was originally promised, along with the stock, you’ll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” She pulled the document from her desk and placed it in front of us. “It stipulates that neither the company, the FBI, nor you can discuss the events of the past few days, only that we’ve all come to an understanding.” Seeing our continued silence, Lisa added, “I disagree with this, but it’s what all the attorneys want. Everyone can acknowledge that the transport happened, but no one can discuss the specifics.”

Becca, looking slightly upset, made her way to the desk and said, “Sure.” Lisa handed her a pen, and Becca, with difficulty and not having her thumbs, signed the document. She then turned to me, holding out the pen, and said, “Just sign it. It’s not worth it.”