James Frey - The Final Testament of the Holy Bible

We knew very little about them when we executed search warrants on them. There was some worry we might be entering a situation similar to that of the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas, where a group of heavily armed religious fanatics, followers of a messianic leader named David Koresh, engaged a federal task force, which held them under siege for fifty-one days, until the Davidians’ compound caught on fire and eighty people, including seventeen children, died. Fortunately, that was not the case. Approximately fifty law enforcement personnel entered the tunnel through four different access points. Almost all of the individuals residing in the tunnel were asleep, and the three that weren’t were taken into custody without incident.

I met Ben when we were interrogating the suspects, who were being held at the MCC, the federal correctional center in lower Manhattan. We had found more than three hundred firearms and ten thousand rounds of ammunition in their compound, along with small amounts of cocaine and marijuana. They were also in possession of a large number of knives, swords, and spears. When we ran their prints, we were able to ascertain the identities of all of them except for two, and all of them had records, most for things like drug possession and theft, though a few also had assault convictions. Of the two we could not identify, one went by the name of Yahya and was recognized by all of them as their leader. The other identified himself as Ben Jones.

Yahya refused to speak. He literally did not answer a single question we posed to him, nor did he request a lawyer. He stared directly into the eyes of both myself and the other agent interrogating him, and never said a thing. We assumed it was a ploy to intimidate us, but having been in rooms with drug lords, serial killers, and terrorists, I didn’t find him particularly frightening or off-putting. I did Ben on my own. As with Yahya, his prints and DNA came back clean, and there was no record of him in any law enforcement database. And though there had been extensive media coverage of the raid, we had yet to release pictures of any of the arrestees to any media outlets, and had yet to receive any public help in making a positive identification.

Before I entered the room where Ben was being held, shackled to the floor at his ankles and to the table at his wrists, I looked in on him through a one-way window. One of my colleagues was standing near the window, observing him. He sat absolutely still, his eyes closed. He was wearing a jumpsuit, so I could not see his arms or body, but his head and face were badly scarred. His hair was on the short side, black, dirty, and disheveled. He was incredibly thin, the veins in his neck and forehead and cheeks plainly visible. Usually people who are being interrogated for the first time are incredibly nervous and anxious; the only ones who are calm, as calm as he was, are usually extremely hardened criminals. I asked my colleague if he had observed anything unusual. He said the man looks like a fucking freak, and he hasn’t moved at all in the last hour, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he wasn’t breathing. I laughed and entered the room.

Ben did not move or acknowledge me in any way. I waited for a few moments, assuming he would, but he did not. He was absolutely still, eerily still, still the way large bodies of water can be still, the way they don’t appear to be moving, don’t appear to be alive, but you know they are. I spoke.

My name is Agent John Guilfoy. I’d like to ask you a few questions.

He slowly opened his eyes. I hadn’t had any contact with him during the arrests and hadn’t seen his eyes when observing him, and I had never seen anything like them. At least, not naturally. They were black, obsidian black, the black of silence, the black of death, the black of what I imagine it must be like before birth. They startled me, scared me. I waited for him to say something, and I waited until I was over the shock of his eyes, and I spoke again.

Do you understand why you’re here?

Yes.

Have you been treated well?

Doesn’t matter.

I’m going to tell you upfront that the more cooperative you are with us, the easier things will be for you.

He smiled, laughed to himself.

Is there something funny about that?

Go on with your questions.

We’ve been trying to identify you, and you haven’t turned up in any of our computer databases. I’m wondering if you can help us in any way.

I gave you my name.

Is it your real name?

I consider it so.

Is there another one we should be checking?

There have been a few.

Such as?

None of them will be of any use to you.

Try me.

He smiled again, didn’t say a word, waited for me.

I stared at him, tried to intimidate him. I might as well have been staring at a rock. He was silent and still and unmoving. I spoke again.

Do you understand the charges against you?

Yes.

You understand they are extremely serious?

If you say so.

You’re looking at years, maybe decades in prison.

Yes.

That doesn’t bother you?

No.

Why?

I can be free anywhere, just as someone can be imprisoned anywhere.

Is that something your leader taught you?

I don’t have a leader.

No?

No.

Yahya was not your leader?

My friend.

A dangerous friend.

If you say so.

He and his followers, amongst whom we count you, were in possession of hundreds of weapons and thousands of rounds of ammunition.

I possess nothing.

Did you know of the weapons’ existence?

Yes.

Then according to the laws of the government of the United States, you were in possession of them. He smiled again.

If you say so.

Do you find this amusing?

Yes.

Why?

I think your laws are silly.

Why is that?

People should be allowed to live and act as they choose.

Not if they endanger or impose on other people.

No one in that tunnel was imposing on or endangering anyone.

I would disagree.

As is your right.

You were living illegally on public land and hoarding weapons designed to kill people.

If the land is public, why can’t we use it?

Because it was designated for other purposes.

And how can the most heavily armed, most militarized government in the history of civilization tell its own citizens they can’t arm themselves in preparation for the coming annihilation?

The coming annihilation?

Yes.

The apocalypse?

If you want to call it that.

You believe it’s coming?

Yes.

The seals have been broken and the signs are appearing?

No.

The Bible says so?

It does, but those words mean nothing to me.

Christ is coming back to do battle with the Devil?

Is that what you believe?

What I believe is irrelevant. I want to know what you believe.

I’ve told you.

This have something to do with Allah?

It has nothing to do with religion.

Then how do you know?

Look around you.

And what will I see?

That it’s coming to an end.

And you can see it?

In a way.

And it’s coming soon?

Yes.

I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if he was a fanatic or mentally ill. In either case, interrogation is virtually useless. Fanatics don’t break unless extreme techniques are used, and those sorts of techniques were forbidden in my branch of the government, and whatever the mentally ill say is considered unreliable, and is usually unusable in court. He closed his eyes and started taking deep breaths through his nose. I asked him if he was okay, and he slowly nodded. I asked him if he needed something to eat or drink, and he slowly shook his head. He just breathed, and I waited. After a minute or so, I thought I’d leave him alone, grab a cup of coffee, and come back and try again. When I stood up, he opened his eyes, and he spoke.