It was not necessarily a wise thing for Cooper to give himself up to Jean Renault, a man whose vindictive rage had chosen the easiest scapegoat for his grief. But he needed Agent Dennis/Denise to clear his name, he needed to keep his promise of safety to Ernie, and above all he must never let fear hold him back again. So he slowly placed his gun on the ground, no matter how much Sheriff Truman spluttered; then put his hands in the air. He walked to his future with what he hoped was a calm, serene, collected visage.

Renault and his associate shoved the hostages away. Ernie ran towards safety like his pants were on fire. The DEA shot Cooper a look of both gratitude and frustration. He strode quickly, with determination. Oddness does not prevent someone from being a fine ally.

"You know that by doing this, you have greatly reduced any chance of clemency before the law," Cooper said mildly, still with his hands in the air, as he reached the derelict house.

The faux Mountie – what was his name? – kept his gun trained on Cooper as Renault shut the door and locked it. "You are a brave man," Renault said, chewing on his lip. "Also a very foolish one."

"I do what I have to do. Surely you understand," Cooper replied. To help the situation feel more remote, he imagined he was merely dictating the experience to Diane, long after everything had turned out well.

"What are we going to do now?" He was clearly not as experienced a criminal as Renault. Cooper could see the perspiration on his face, the twitch of his eyelid. This one was the more likely of the two to make a mistake.

Still, it would be rash to try to overpower them. They would probably not kill their bargaining chip unless he proved difficult, and he had every faith that the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Dept. would pull out all the stops to get him back.

Renault snapped his pistol into its holster, not answering initially. He grasped Cooper's shoulder with one hand, maneuvering him so his back was to the French-Canadian, and pulled something out of his pocket. "Put your hands together, behind your back," he said softly.

For some reason, Renault sounded a lot more dangerous when he was quiet. Cooper knew that, though he was fairly sure of emerging alive, the next few hours of negotiations and police standoff could be quite painful.

Tibetan lamas suffered tremendous oppression during decades of political turmoil in China. If they could endure it and remain committed to nonviolence, then so could Cooper in his time of difficulty. He obeyed.

"You can prevent things from getting worse," Cooper said, trying to sound soothing, knowing that this man was the least inclined of anyone to listen to him. He felt smooth plastic encircle his wrists, then tighten. They were clearly multiple cable ties; easy to get on, easy to remove with a knife or scissors, nearly impossible to get off with neither.

"What we are going to do is that you are going to stay right here and talk to the police, letting me know if they want to hear from Cooper. You will not fire any shots. We don't want them thinking we killed him, do we?"

The faux Mountie shook his head, still pointing his gun at Cooper. "But what are you going to do with him?"

"We are going to the next room. You will not interrupt, except in the aforementioned cases. We have much to discuss."

"But Renault-"

"When a man has taken your brother away, my friend, then you can talk about how I shall conduct my affairs with this one." Renault pulled his gun back out and pressed the muzzle against Cooper's head. His other arm encircled Cooper's waist, and again he spoke softly, almost paternally. "The safety is on, Agent. No need to tremble. I never shoot by accident."

Om ani padme hum, Cooper thought. All he said was, "Remember that actions have consequences."

Nudging the door open with his foot and pushing Cooper through, Jean Renault growled, "You have no idea."