Clarice was doing her daily routine at the FBI school at Quantico. She only had to run two more miles. She tried to ignore the burning feeling in her throat that she got when she was pushing herself over her limit. The academy had an excellent forest around it to run, climb or use the trees as obstacles. Although Clarice wasn't alone in the forest, she felt like she was. With just some music she could exclude all the noises and all the people around her. She'd run, and think about that she did her whole life. As she was thinking about the bad memories, she ran faster and faster, until she couldn't breathe anymore. She paused and took her earbuds out when she saw her friend Ardelia Mapp walk towards her. She smiled although she was still breathing hard.
"Planning to kill yourself with all that exercising?" Ardelia teased.
She was Clarice's roommate and best friend. Ambitious but warm, everyone else at Quantico were pricks or show-offs who bought their way in by their rich parents. Jealousy was normal between the students but not between Clarice and Ardelia, they were happy with each other's rare female company as the FBI was rather woman-unfriendly.
Clarice smiled. "You don't know what you're missing," she spoke as she stretched her legs holding onto Ardelia's shoulder. Clarice was sweaty and dirty from her run.
"You know I don't like running, there's no need to be the fittest person here, you know?" It was true, Ardelia didn't need the exercise at all, she was naturally slim. But she never let a chance go by to tease Clarice about her extreme workout.
Clarice was still bent over, gasping for air so she placed herself on a tree trunk that most of the students would use to sit on when they had a break.
"Are you gonna help me up or what?" Clarice smiled at her friend.
"You better get your ass up, Jack Crawford asked me to get you. I came across him in the hall. He wants to talk to you." Ardelia knew what effect these words would have upon her best friend.
"The Jack Crawford?!" Clarice exclaimed. Jack Crawford was the head of the BSU. Clarice had a lot of respect for the man who had solved for more than 23 cases in the past 10 years.
"That would be the one," Ardelia crossed her arms, "tell me if all the stories about him are true when he's done yelling at you." She smirked.
"Did he seem angry?" Clarice thought about the possible things she could have done wrong. Ardelia laughed.
"No, he just had that frown on his face as usual. He said that you should come to his office right away."
"Why would he need me?" Clarice got up and walked with her friend to the headquarters of the BSU department where Jack Crawford's office was. It wa slocated in the west wing of the FBI Academy where all the 'professional' people worked. Clarice hoped to work there one day. She was filled with a strange kind of excitement .
"Oh, I already know it. You probably asked too much questions in professor Graham's class, he's done with you and Crawford is kicking you out of the FBI," Ardelia giggled at her own joke.
Will Graham was a professor at Quantico and Ardelia had the biggest crush on him. He was quite the topic of conversation between the students. He was in prison for crimes he didn't commit. Some said he had killed people in self defence. All under Jack Crawford's watch. That's what Clarice knew for sure. And there was a scar on his face that made the right side of his face look like a Picasso painting. It didn't made him unattractive but in a way he looked more dangerous. He was very distant, Graham didn't look people in the eye when they spoke to him. He didn't seem to like people very much.
Clarice chuckled.
"Just kidding, Graham's too fond of you to let you kick out," Ardelia continued. Clarice hoped so because she did ask a lot of difficult questions in his class.
When they arrived at the building Ardelia waved Clarice goodbye and made her promise to tell her everything about her meeting with Jack Crawford. Clarice walked up the stairs, suddenly aware of the clothes she was wearing. Clarice was all sweaty from running her laps. 'Dress to impress' Clarice mumbled to herself. Jack's office was on the second floor. When she arrived, she softly knocked on Crawford's office. "Come in," she heard a low voice shout from the other side of the door.
Jack Crawford was sitting behind his desk filled with paperwork. His walls were grey, except one where cut outs from newspapers hang, a map and pictures of his latest case Clarice presumed. She tried to focus on the man in front of her. Jack Crawford was a black, stocky built man in his fifties. He tried to fake a smile for her but Clarice saw the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Sit down, Starling!" Clarice sat in one of his big chairs trying to not be intimidated by the man in front of her.
"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" Clarice smiled. Jack looked at a file in front of him.
"Clarice Starling. 24. You studied criminology and psychology. You've been here for 6 months. You're on the top of your class," he paused and overlooked the file "and when you graduate you'd like to come work for me. Considering your grades, that won't be a problem." He closed the file and smiled sincerely at her for the first time.
Clarice didn't expect this from the usual grumpy Jack Crawford, "I hope so, sir."
"We are trying to reopen some cold cases by interviewing some old suspects, especially the ones who are incarcerated. It's just a survey that they need to fill in." Crawford explained.
Clarice nodded, "Who's the subject?"
"Hannibal Lecter," Crawford didn't flinch twice.
Lecter was the one who worked on a case with Graham and Crawford until they found out the killer they were looking for was Lecter. Lecter and Graham. Freddie Lounds' muder husbands. Jack was a close friend of Lecter before he saw right through Crawford and sliced open his throat which he miraculously survived.
"Hannibal The Cannibal," she mumbled to him, "I'd love to do this but if I may ask sir, why me?" Clarice asked carefully wondering if she'd crossed the line of not.
Crawford's eyes seemed to have darkened when Clarice him. She was wondering why they didn't go themselves or why Will Graham didn't go over to talk to Lecter. Clarice couldn't bring up Will because that would certainly enrage Agent Crawford.
"You seem qualified for the job, this is a chance to prove yourself. Lecter is a tough one, it's better to send a new face than send someone he knows. We don't want to cut open old scars." Jack smiled sourly as if his thoughts were elsewhere.
"Will Graham recommended you to me, said you were smart and had potential. I suggest you don't mention this to the other students, keep it low-key. I will need a report of how he's doing, be observant. Is he drawing? Unusual behaviour? I'll need everything tomorrow night." There was something weird about all this. If this was just about cold cases, then why was Crawford so determined to send her. What did Will Graham see in her to make her go talk to the man who almost destroyed his life? There was something else.
"Thank you for the opportunity, sir. I'll do it, I'll make the report." Clarice tried to smile as confidentially as she could, trying not to show her distrust.
"That would be great. I'll let the Baltimore State hospital know that you will visit Lecter," Crawford seemed to be pleased that she'd agree to do the interview. Pleased that she's been doing the dirty work right? However Clarice knew this was an opportunity to prove herself to Jack Crawford.
Clarice was about to leave when Jack said; "Starling, never forget what he is. Be careful and don't tell him anything personal."
Don't tell him anything personal.
Jack's words echoed inside her head when she walked out of the building. She was trying about everything she knew about Hannibal Lecter. Ardelia had even read that awful book written by trash journalist Freddie Lounds. She'd better read it in case Lounds was right about some things about Lecter.
Will Graham found himself in Jack's office later that day.
"I hope you're right about this Will," Jack said.
Jack tried to make eye contact with him but Will's attention was focussed on the wall with pictures of the six girls Buffalo Bill had skinned. There was an obvious connection between these girls, they were all heavier set and had a pretty face. Will couldn't make anything of the crime scene, his pure empathy was useless.
They were dealing with a very intelligent psychopath and he needed to be caught as soon as possible before more innocent people would die. The media named him "Buffalo Bill" because he "liked to skin his humps". He's been front page news for months.
Jack walked over to him and rested a hand on Will's shoulder. Will flinched at his touch, as he's not liked being touched.
"Hannibal would like her, believe me. I know him, he'll tell her what we need to know," Will stayed emotionless as he looked at the lifeless bodies of the girls on the wall. It wouldn't take long until another girl disappears.