Sometimes a story just nags at you and won't let go. This is one of them. When the idea came to me about a month ago to write, I had too many things on my plate. I still do, but this story won't go away. Once I found the case and the song, I knew I had to write it. Although I am taking a risk by killing off a major character, I know that my faithful readers will understand that I don't always play by the rules when it comes to my plots. The following story is based on two true crimes.
This story is dedicated to Police Officer Hector Garza (1953-2001) . You are forever missed, but your spirit will always live in our hearts.
Song prompt: I Look To You by Whitney Houston
I Look To You
Place: Franklin, Tennessee
Time: 0810
When: Present Day
An obscure house in an obscure neighbourhood. Nothing out of the ordinary to indicate that the UNSUB- Leroy Branson- inside was a domestic terrorist. He had almost gotten away with his plans to blow up a Federal courthouse in Nashville and release sarin nerve gas into a shopping mall. Now cornered at his mother's residence, Leroy Branson was desperate and running scared.
A team of DEA, ATF, and local law enforcement stood waiting for their orders. The neighbourhood had been evacuated as the barriers were set up. The orders were clear: Take the UNSUB alive.
Aaron Hotchner glanced at his team. Four days of profiling and working with the DEA had led them all here. As he strapped on his bullet-proof vest, he couldn't help but wonder how lately the cases the BAU were working on seemed to be redundant. It was no secret that domestic terrorism was on the rise, but the frequency and methods of the attacks being thwarted were minor when compared to the chatter coming from overseas.
Wanting to blow up a building because a person is a down and out loner with an intense hatred of his country was not the most unusual profiling case the BAU had received, but wanting to kill thousands of people with sarin gas was more than enough to send the team into motion and find the UNSUB who could potential go down in history as the worst mass killer…ever.
The lead investigating officer walked over to Hotch. "What's the plan?"
"We are pretty sure he is holding a hostage inside, so we can't rush the house. I would suggest a soft entry in case he has the area booby-trapped."
"Sounds like a good idea."
A DEA agent rushed over. "We got the floor plan of the house." Laying the blue-print on the hood of the SUV, Hotch called the teams over as he scanned possible entry points.
"The garage has a backdoor, and there seems to be another where the kitchen is located. We are going to need three teams for the front, back, and garage doors. Once we get inside, do what you can to apprehend him, but do not kill him."
"What if he is holding hostages?"
"Agent Rossi is going in to help should there be hostages and negotiations are warranted."
"And if he's armed?"
"Shoot to wound; do not shoot to kill. He has sarin hidden somewhere in this city and only he knows the location. Do what you have to, to take him alive." Turning to his team, Hotch started the assigning teams. "Rossi, Prentiss, you go thru the back door. Morgan, Officer Murray, the garage door. Reid, come with me; we're taking the front."
"Our profile has him as a desperate loner, but not suicidal. His hatred is of the government and how he can bring it down; he won't do anything to keep himself from seeing that dream come true," Rossi commented.
"Are you saying this man is a domestic terrorist and a narcissist?" a law enforcement officer asked.
"Is there any other kind?" Rossi replied dryly.
Hotch looked around. "Are the teams ready to go?" As everyone nodded, Hotch checked his gun. "Keep an eye on your partner and an eye on your surroundings. Let's go!"
Swiftly the teams broke up and took their places as they waited for the sign to go in.
Standing at the back door, Prentiss tried the handle and found it unlocked. "Hotch? The backdoor is unlocked and the coast is clear. Permission to enter?"
"Rossi is with you?"
"Right here," Rossi replied.
"Go in and see what you can relay back. We'll move in on your word."
Turning the handle, Prentiss opened the door and walked in. Rossi followed, along with two ATF agents. Quietly they stepped thru the kitchen into the hallway. Peering around the doorframes, they assessed the area and moved on.
"Coast is clear," Prentiss radioed to Hotch. "We are moving to the master bedroom."
Seeing the door cracked open, Prentiss motioned for them to get against the wall as Rossi nudged the door open with his foot. Pistol aimed, he heard the whimper before his eyes adjusted to the dark. Dim light from cracks in the heavy drapes gave an eerie silhouette of the UNSUB kneeling on the bed, his hand on the shoulder of a female.
"Leroy Branson," Rossi called out. "I'm Agent David Rossi with the FBI. I'm going to ask you to put your weapon down and let the woman go."
"Why? You're going to kill me anyway."
"No I'm not. All I want to do is talk. No one needs to get hurt." He heard Prentiss whisper to Hotch that there was a hostage crisis and to stand down.
"That's what you think! The federal government is a fucking lie bent on destroying all of us. They need to be punished."
"I understand your reasons, but this- what you are doing right now- is not going to achieve anything. Put the gun down and we can talk about whatever it is that's upsetting you."
"Big Brother is upsetting me! Those bastards take our money and kill its citizens in the name of democracy and freedom. All the while, they are going overseas and spreading its murderous propaganda to other countries while lying about liberating the oppressed."
"What do you think blowing up courthouses is going to prove? Do you think that is going to stop the government? Do you think they are going to care?"
"They will when citizens start dying. They will have to listen."
"Leroy, Big Brother has eyes everywhere and even if you succeed in killing enough people to make them take notice, they will hunt you down and kill you and then you become just another bug they squashed. You will be just a number to them. Put the gun down and come with us; you will have a better chance. I promise. Then whatever you need, I will get it for you."
"No you won't; you're just another murdering bastard like the rest of them!"
"Leroy, let the woman go so we can talk."
"I can't do that. She's my bargaining chip."
"No, your bargaining chip is the hidden sarin. This woman is your ticket to life in prison or even the death penalty. You can't succeed in prison." Rossi took a couple of steps forward. "Look, my weapon is holstered; I'm not going to harm you."
"Rossi! What the hell are you doing?" Prentiss whispered.
"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Let the woman come with me, and then we can walk out of here. Together. That's my promise." Rossi stood next to the bed. Just close enough to reach out to the crying woman.
"Are you sure? You'll get my message out there?" Leroy asked.
"You have my word. Let her go and I'll stay and hear whatever is on your mind."
For a long moment no one breathed or moved. Slowly Leroy took his hand off the woman. "Okay. Sure." Inching back, he told her: "Go. Get the fuck out of here!" Slowly she started to get up when suddenly she was shoved from behind. Rossi moved forward to help her when the loud explosion of a pistol went off in his ears. Disoriented, he saw the woman crumple as her head exploded.
Too late to draw his pistol. Too late to duck. But he tried. Another explosion. It only hurt for a second. The voices were screaming and yelling. Two more shots, then he heard Prentiss scream: "Officer down! Officer down!"
Then nothing.