Noon.
At 15:31, on a hot, dry day, a black car sped down the highway. In the CHEVROLET TAHOE sat several people. The driver, dressed in an FBI uniform, turned to his friend: John, I didn't think the police would catch him, - he said to the man next to him, who was an older man around 40. In his hands, he held his best partner, a Beretta 92A1.
John: If I were the police, I would have shot him at the crime scene, - he said, turning back and looking at the passenger seat.
In the passenger seat sat a man wearing a plain black T-shirt and sweatpants. His hands were cuffed because he was dangerous. He had more than 20 victims to his name, and now, caught, he listened to the insults of the person he couldn't even see because of the bag over his head.
John snorted and turned back around, settling in more comfortably, his gaze stern as he looked out the window, admiring the view.
Kevin: We're here, - said Kevin, stopping in front of the Federal Bureau of Investigation building. He turned off the engine. John got out of the car, while Kevin stayed inside.
Kevin: You're facing the death penalty, don't even hope for a life sentence, you bastard! - he said harshly as he got out of the car.
Opening the passenger door, he pulled the killer out of the car: Move faster, - Kevin pushed him, and John walked ahead, talking on the phone with someone.
John and Kevin escorted the serial killer into the building, but John, older and more experienced, noticed something strange. As they walked, he glanced left, then right.
John saw discarded cardboard signs with the word [Justice] written on them. Even as they drove, he noticed these words on people's shirts, on posters, and in graffiti on the walls.
John: Kevin, let's hurry, - he said to his partner. John unclipped his holster to draw his gun faster, sensing something was wrong.
Inside the FBI building, they were met by a small group of people led by a tall man in uniform. Kevin removed the bag from the killer's head.
The killer, opening his eyes, saw a man with a serious face in front of him: Why so grim? Wife didn't put out? - he laughed, trying to ease the strange tension from the man.
Kevin: Getting chatty in front of our boss? - he barked.
Killer: Shut up, Justin Bieber, - the killer sneered at Kevin's appearance, extending both hands to the tall man in front of him: When's my death hour?
Sam: Soon... replied Sam, then turned to his subordinates and said: You did a good job. John, Kevin, do you want to assist with the interrogation?
Kevin eagerly agreed, but John politely declined and watched the backs of those who headed down the hallway to the interrogation room.
John: A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt right now, - he said, heading to the coffee machine and buying a cup. He walked to the chairs in the waiting area, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV hanging on the wall.
He turned on the news channel and watched, holding a cup of hot coffee.
The male news anchor, dressed in a high-quality suit, stood next to a beautiful young female anchor. The young woman started her introduction first: The serial killer known as 'The Judge' has been caught. He was apprehended by the police while he was about to add another victim to his count.
Then the male anchor continued flawlessly: As always, his victim was not an ordinary person. His target, according to police information, was a man who had raped his 21-year-old daughter. He is currently behind bars at the local police station.
John snorted and switched to another channel, where two young men were discussing the case of the serial killer 'The Judge.'
Commentator 1: The Judge struck again, but unfortunately, his plan failed, and he was caught by the local police. We have information that will reveal the whole truth about how this serial killer was apprehended.
Commentator 2: Stay tuned, and we will tell you who The Judge is, why he started committing murders, and other detailed information after a 1-minute commercial break.
After 1 minute
Commentator 2: From the nickname, you already have some understanding of the killer's past. The nickname 'The Judge' was given because our killer worked as a judge, and the killings began after he, an experienced judge with many years of service, lost a case against his wife's rapist. Do you know who became his first victim?
Commentator 1: But are the killer's actions justified? This path leads nowhere. If people admire and imitate him, anyone could take up arms and exact vigilante justice!
John watched as the two commentators professionally debated each other, with one supporting the killer and the other opposing him. Then John turned off the TV and took a deep breath.
Interrogation Room
Kevin, along with several of his colleagues, stood behind the glass, looking into the interrogation room. Their eyes were fixed on the criminal, who was seated on a chair in the center of the room.
One of the officers spoke into the microphone: Alright, the interrogation will begin in: 3, 2, 1.
A tall and thin man, who was in charge of the interrogations, sat down in front of the criminal.
He glanced at the detainee's hands, which were still cuffed. Sam looked at the man with a high forehead, pale skin, and sharp features. His dark eyes, with characteristic dark circles underneath, partially hidden by hair falling over his forehead, framed his face.
He looked like a tired man just trying to get by.
The room was silent, with only the sound of quiet breathing and the hum of recording devices creating a strange atmosphere. Sam, the head of this department, sat at the table across from the criminal.
When their eyes met, it seemed for a moment that the criminal looked away.
Sam started the conversation: Do you know why we're here? You're now in an interrogation to understand your goal and motivation; this will help you during the trial. So answer my questions truthfully. Let's start with the first question: What was your goal?
The killer smirked: Justice, my goal was justice.
Sam placed a document on the table and pointed to it: Here is a list of all your murders, and every person you killed committed murder, rape, theft, kidnapping, etc. Did you decide to play hero?
Killer: There is one way to make people stop doing terrible things, and that is to make them feel fear for their lives. Are you aware that in several areas where I killed, crime rates dropped? I just want to show this to the world.
Sam began writing something in a notebook and said: Your justice is an illusion. True justice is the law.
Killer: You dare speak of the law to me. I know the law better than you or anyone in this building, - he replied in a hoarse voice.
Sam: It's not up to you to decide justice. Next question: do you advocate for vigilante justice?
Killer: No, I work alone. If someone else is doing it, it's not by my orders.
Sam: Alright, do you have any enemies?
Killer: Everyone.
Sam: Okay, and the last question, what is your creed? What makes you wake up every day and go search for a new victim?
Killer: What makes me wake up is knowing that somewhere out there, someone I haven't killed is making the world worse.
Sam exhaled heavily: Alright, I'll give my testimony to the judges. I hope you accept the outcome, whatever it may be.
Killer: I am always ready for death, - he replied.
The next morning
Sam headed to the cell where the killer was held. Sam entered and carefully inspected him.
Sam: There's news, - he said, breaking the silence.
The criminal slightly raised his head, as if to listen to the next words.
Sam: A message came through, he continued, Your punishment will be carried out in the electric chair.
Killer: I expected as much.
Kevin and John escorted the Killer, walking behind Sam.
The Judge, Kevin, John, and Sam were driving to the nearest prison where the execution would take place.
They had only driven a few blocks when a van started tailing them. After a few minutes, it overtook the FBI car and began to slow down.
John: I have a bad feeling, boss, he said, drawing his gun from the holster.
The Killer, seeing this through the windshield, smirked.
Kevin: What are you smiling at, idiot? barked the young Kevin, handling the wheel.
Sam, sitting next to the Killer, said: Do you know them? he asked in surprise.
Killer: They've come for justice, he answered.
Sam: Who have they come for?! he asked in a slightly anxious voice, drawing his gun from the holster.
Killer: For my soul. An eye for an eye, as they say, and as soon as he said this, the back doors of the van swung open, revealing people armed to the teeth.
Gunshots rang out