I am a big fan of first meetings, or the Meet Cute as they are called in romantic comedies. These often set the tone for the relationship, and tell us a lot about how the couple will interact with one another later in the story.
Jason Banes is a thief, however, he's found himself on the wrong end of a murder charge. He admits to the accompanying theft, but maintains his innocence in the multiple murders he's charged with. When compelling evidence comes out that he's telling the truth, he's released into FBI custody in order to help them find the person who is ultimately responsible, the elusive Orchid. Unfortunately, Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole, doesn't seem very happy to meet him.
The woman was medium height with an athletic build. Her hair was an average shade of light brown, worn in a sloppy bun as if she couldn't be bothered to style it. Her eyes were a common shade of blue, her complexion and looks attractive, but not impressive. She carried herself like a professional and her silvery gray suit coat bulged slightly under her left arm. She wore loose fitting, low riding pants that matched the jacket. Her shirt was stark white. She wore a tie; narrow, silk, gunmetal gray. Her makeup was minimal, severe. She had dark sunglasses perched on her head.
Putting the glasses to her teeth, she bit on the end a moment before speaking. "So, this is him, huh?" She looked at Jason like she was inspecting disappointing livestock.
"Jason Banes," he said, stepping forward with his hand extended through the bars.
The men flanked the woman putting themselves in front of her like a wall.
"Cool it, guys. He can't hurt me from in there." She stepped forward, extending her hand.
Her nails were short, unpolished, well manicured. Her grip was strong, her fingers and palms calloused. Jason got the impression that she could kick his ass too. He took her hand, meeting the intensity of her grasp with equal pounds per square inch. His disarming smile flashed, making no impression whatever on the young woman.
"And you are?"
"Special Agent in Charge, Taylor Driscole."
"You're Agent Driscole?" He grinned, still holding her hand. The other hand went immediately to his head. Long fingers brushed his curly hair out of his face. "I was expecting a chap. Nice to meet you."
"This isn't a social visit, Mr. Banes."
"Jason," he corrected automatically.
"Mr. Banes," she said firmly. "You're to be released in my custody. The men and I will escort you to a secure location. They're setting up surveillance and checking security now."
"All right. How soon do we leave?"
"I've got a few more papers to sign, then you're officially my headache."
"I won't be one, I promise. I'm house broken and I do know how to treat a lady."
He wasn't really trying to flirt, but Special Agent Driscole seemed to think he was overly familiar. She snatched back her hand, glaring at him.
"Get him ready," she told the men with her. "Move into position," she said to the cuff of her jacket.
"Yes, ma'am," her entourage replied in chorus.
Driscole strode to the door, slapping it with her palm, knocking it aside angrily.
"What's biting her?" Jason asked the men quietly.
The meat shield shrugged, exchanging a knowing look. Jason wasn't sure, but he had the uneasy feeling they might be laughing at Driscole, him or both.
He was cuffed, with his wrists in front of him, and escorted to the elevator. Driscole was nowhere to be seen, but she and more security men were waiting in the parking garage. Jason was led off the elevator, surrounded by a walking wall of muscle. He'd never seen so many big, well armed men in his life. Each man had a weapon in his hand. They all looked around carefully, checking for unknown menace. Jason didn't know whether to feel very safe or very, very afraid.
Two black SUV's were waiting a few feet away. He was taken to a vehicle and put inside. He was flanked by two members of the meat shield. Agent Driscole climbed up front and the rest of the team got in the second vehicle. She contacted the other driver and they took off.
"Why is it you lot like black?" he asked the agents.
"What?" the man on his left asked.
"Black," Jason replied airily. "Could we be anymore obvious? Do you chaps buy every black SUV in America?"
The man on the left looked puzzled, the man on the right and the driver chuckled. Driscole stared straight ahead. Jason shrugged. He wiggled around trying to get comfortable, but his companions took up most of the seat. He was more of a wiry build himself, but he had very broad shoulders. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, he wiggled some more.
Mr. Left gave him an evil eye. Mr. Right eased slightly toward the door, angling his shoulders so the each had a little more room.
"Thanks," Jason murmured, smiling a little.
The man said nothing, but nodded and a smile flickered for a second and was gone.
"May I ask where we're going?" Jason directed at the group.
No one said anything. Driscole shifted in her seat, ignoring him.
"Oi," Jason said rather more loudly. "I know I'm a criminal, but I think I've got a right to know if I'm going to be safe. Might I point out, that you need me—rather a lot?"
Driscole glared at him over her shoulder. Firming her lips, she inhaled slowly. "Look, Mr. Banes. I'm not here to be your friend. I'm here to protect you. The less you know about our destination the better."
"What? Am I going to yell out the windows and give it away? Who am I gonna tell, Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole? Eh? And while we're having this lively repartee, perhaps you could ask one of the kind gentlemen to undo the handcuffs? I assure you, I'm not inclined to go anywhere. Besides, they'd break me in two before I even got to a door or disabled the driver—not that I know how to do that in any case. I'm a thief, not an assassin."
© 2016 Dellani Oakes