Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (1999–…): Season 7, Episode 6 - Raw - full transcript

An investigation of a horrific school sniper attack leads the team to a particularly obnoxious Neo-Nazi group.

(male announcer)
In the criminal justice system,

sexually based offenses are
considered especially heinous.

In New York City,
the dedicated detectives

who investigate
these vicious felonies

are members of an elite squad

known as
the Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

[yelling]

(girl)
Kick, punch, elbow, knee.

Kick, punch, elbow, knee...

Is she having a spaz attack?



No, it's Kraft Magoo.

It's Krav Maga,
it's what they teach

secret agents for self-defense.

Where'd you learn it?

My mom.

They do it in her aerobics
class.

Elbow, kick, punch!

[gunshot blares]

What happened?

Everyone inside the school now!

[gunshot]
Oh!

Somebody's got a gun.
Run!

No pushing!
Just keep your heads down!

(male officer)
As far as we know,



shooter's in the wind.

Kids who were hit?

We've covered EMS with
a ballistic blanket.

Pulled one boy
from the playground.

Alive?
No.

Anyone else?

Two hits, both made it
inside the school.

Leg wound's on his way
to Bellevue.

Here comes the other one.

How is she?

GSW to the left shoulder.

Stopped the bleeding
with a pressure dressing.

Vitals are stable.
I'll ride with her.

Hi. What's your name?

Annabelle.

Hi, Annabelle.

Did you see who shot you?

No.

Did anybody threaten you?

Any of your classmates?

No. It hurts.

I know it does, honey,

and you're being very brave.

What did I do?
Why did they shoot me?

I don't know, sweetie.

(Stabler)
How many kids were out there?
42.

It was an hour before
school started.

Most of the students
hadn't arrived yet.

Where was the shooter?

I don't know.
I never saw a gun.

Have there been any threats?

Recently fired employees,
teachers,

disgruntled parents?

We're a public school,
so all of the above.

I'm gonna need a list, okay?

(Cragen)
We're setting up
a family center

at the Fort Tryon Armory.

We'll return the kids
to their parents there,

but I'm gonna need you
to interview 'em first.

(Stabler)
Just tell me everything
you remember

before the gunshots, okay?

Did you hear anyone
saying angry words?

Where did it sound like
the gunshots came from?

Sidewalk.

The sidewalk?

Did you see anyone
on the sidewalk with a gun?

I didn't see the gun.

But I know it wasn't anybody
on the sidewalk.

Well, okay.

Who was it?

I don't know,
but he was in a van.

What was the color of the van?

I didn't see any van.

So what did you see?

Open windows.

From a car?

No, no.
Building windows.

Across the street.

Which building?

All of them.

People were shooting from
all different directions.

So there was more
than one shooter?

No, just one.

He must've been someone
on the playground.

And you're positive you didn't
see who shot you?

Yes.

(male doctor)
Anyone up for good news?

Yeah, I sure am.

X-rays confirm the bullet

completely missed your femur.

You have a little soft tissue
damage,

but you should be back running
marathons in no time.

But I never ran in a marathon.

Well, you will now.

That is how good
we are gonna fix you up.

So, you have no ballistic
evidence for us?

(doctor)
Clean, through and through.

Your bullet is still
on that playground.

Will you make

Jeffrey and Annabelle
all better too?

Dr. Beresford was just
on his way

to check on Annabelle
for us now.

How is she?

Still in surgery.

I'll let you know.

(boy)
Olivia?

I'm right here.

Johnny Mayhew.

Who's that?
He's a boy in my class

that gets a lot of timeouts.

What about him?

He has a gun.

When did you see Johnny
with a gun?

The first day after
summer vacation.

He brought it to school
in his backpack.

He let me hold it.

A .380 semiautomatic
is not a toy, Mrs. Mayhew.

I told you never
to go near that.

Whoa! You're in enough trouble
already.

What'd I do?

This reeks of cleaning oil.

You covering for your son,
Ms. Mayhew?
I clean it once a week.

So it won't jam
if I ever need to use it.

(Munch)
Safety isn't on,
no lock on the drawer.

I guess a child lock
is out of the question, huh?

You got a permit for that?

It was a gift from my brother.

And you never registered it?

I was supposed to?

Mrs. Mayhew, we're gonna
have to charge you

with possession of a weapon

and endangering the welfare
of a child.

Get outta here.

And a tech needs to run a
gunshot residue test on Johnny.

Why? He hadn't even
left the house yet.

There is no way my Johnny
shot those kids.

(man)
A teacher came in early
to grade some math tests.

Was she in here
during the shooting?

Had just gone to the lounge
for coffee.

A stray round came through
this open window,

pierced the map
right there.

Well, it looks like
he took out Tulsa.

Probably unintentional.

And finally came to rest...

right here.

What caliber was the ammo?

Well, they're all too mangled
to tell, but this one

did give us two points
of contact.

The desk...

and the map, which allows us
to ascertain

the exact line of fire.

My left or your left?

Your left.

The shooter picked 'em off
from right here.

Got something.

Cozy little sniper's nest.

Perfect location.

Complete with
a little hiding place.

What'd he leave us?

It looks like he was smart
enough to pick up his brass.

But remember that line, "Leave
the gun, take the cannoli"?

That explains why no one
saw a weapon afterwards.

Folding stock,

bolt action, internal magazine.

High-powered scope
and a flash suppressor.

I think we can rule out
little Johnny Mayhew.

This is a precision

sniper rifle.

Kind you use with
a specific target in mind.

Which kid was he gunning for?

(Benson)
Can you think of any reason

that somebody may have
targeted your daughter?

Of course not.

What reason could anybody have
to shoot a six-year-old?

What about you?
Have you had any threats?

Any recent disputes?
No.

We just moved here
from Denver last month.

We hardly know anyone.

Detective, you wanted
to be told.

The boy who didn't make it,
his mother just got here.

Mrs. Whitlock.

I'm Detective Benson.

Uh, yes, I got a message that my
son Jeffrey was hurt at school.

And to come here.
Is--is he okay?

I don't understand why
they won't let me see him.

No one's talked to you.
No. W-w-what happened?

W-where is he?

You know what, why don't we
have a seat right over here--

No, no, no, I-I need to be
with my son.

My husband can't have
his cell phone on at work, and--

Only I guess that's what we gave
the emergency contact number

to the school, and h-he picked
it up on break,

and he left a message for me
at home that I--that I--

that I should meet him here,
but he--he didn't--

Mrs. Whitlock.

I'm so sorry.

Please...don't...

There was a shooting
at the school.

Your son didn't make it.

Oh, God!

My husband's here.

I don't know how
I'm gonna tell him.

You're a corrections officer?

Rikers.

[sobbing]
Oh, God!

[sobbing]
Oh...

Your son Jeffrey was...
Adopted.

A year ago.

We couldn't
get pregnant.

They said the wait list
to adopt was years.

Unless you happened to be rich.
Which we're not.

And then we found out there were
20,000 kids in foster care.

Just in New York City.

They said 5,000 were legally
free to adopt, immediately.

Jeffrey was in the
harder-to-place older group.

Kids over seven.

Mark works at Rikers.

Every day he has to deal
with the end results

of ruined childhoods.

Circle of violence.

We thought we were saving him.

Mr. Whitlock, we have to
consider an inmate at Rikers

with a grudge.

We house 17,000 cons there.

Anybody stick out?

I've been spit at, swung at.

I had food, urine, even feces
thrown at me.

I've had my share of threats,
but so has every guard there.

How could they know
who Jeffrey was?

Why take it out on him?

He was so sweet.

I can't believe he's gone.

(Cragen)
You're all going to be reunited
with your children.

The counselors are available
inside.

So please, let your kids
talk to them.

Maddy, thanks for your help,
darling.

Captain, I think
that's about it.

Kids give you anything?

Yeah, about 40 different
versions about what happened.

Well, eyewitness accounts
are bad enough with adults,

what'd you expect from kids?

Wild imaginations,
high suggestibility,

and difficulty distinguishing
fantasy from reality.

That's pretty much
what I got.

Well, we got a dad
of the one fatality

who's a corrections officer
at Rikers.
Really?

(Maddy)
No! I don't want to go home!

Maddy, come on.

Come on, honey.

I interviewed her, nothing.

Well, we'd better
re-interview her.

Come on.

(Huang)
Maddy, where do you live?

In an apartment.

Does anyone live
in the apartment with you?

Yes.
Who?

My mom.

Anyone else?
No.

Maddy, is anyone ever...

mean to you?

Yes.

Who?

I promised not to tell.

What would happen if you told?

He has a giant gun,
as tall as me,

and he said if I told,

he'd shoot my mom
and all my friends.

Maddy, who is he?

If I go home,

he'll shoot me too because
he'll think I told.

But I swear I didn't tell.

What does he do to hurt you?

He makes me pull down my pants.

Please don't let him
shoot my mom.

We won't let him
hurt anybody else.

But you gotta tell me
who he is first, okay?

Maddy.

Who is he?

Mr. Bugeyes.

(woman)
She means Mr. Buggesi.

She has trouble
pronouncing his name.

And who's Mr. Buggesi?

He's an elderly gentleman
in our building.

Retired, he's very friendly.

How often is Maddy
alone with him?

Did he do something to her?

Well, we just need
to speak with him.

Maddy gets out of school
at 3:00,

but I don't get off work
until 5:00.

He says he likes
to keep himself useful.

He watches her for free.

Which apartment is he in?

(man)
Don't! stop!

(man 2)
Do you like that?

Mr. Buggesi?

Mr. Buggesi, open the door!

(man)
You raped your last
little girl,

you rancid bag of puss!
(Cragen)
Hey! Hey!

All right, enough, enough,
enough, enough!

Let go!
Get over here.
Get over here.

Get over here.
Hands against the wall.

Hands against the wall.

He's unconscious.

(Stabler)
Who are you?

SVU Portable to Central.

I need a bus for an aided
prisoner at 54th and 2nd.

Apartment 4-C as in Charlie.

10-4, bus is on the way.

Patrick McCorkle.

Any relation to Maddy?

My niece.

(Stabler)
Looks like Mrs. McCorkle

gave Patrick here the heads-up.

Now, look,

I understand you're very angry.

I don't think you do.

We're still arresting you.
Fine.

Just put us in the same cell.

Buggesi say anything to you
before you scrambled his brains?

He said he was sorry.

That he was born
with unnatural urges,

he couldn't control himself.

Look at this.

That's what
he threatened her with?

It's an air pellet rifle.

A toy.

Looks as real
as a sniper rifle.

Especially to
a seven-real-old.

Yeah, except this one didn't
take out three kids

on that playground.

It doesn't rule out Buggesi
as the shooter.

People can own
more than one gun.

Buggesi was sitting
in a dentist's chair

at the time of the shooting.

Maddy's uncle beat him
almost to death.

Are we even sure
he's a molester?

There's an open warrant on him
from Florida.

They'll extradite,

we won't get a crack at him
until they're done.

What about the weapon Munch
found on the roof?

Any prints?
No.

But the serial number's intact.

John, where are we
with the gun trace?

On a cross-country tour.

It was lovingly manufactured
in Sturgis, South Dakota.

Made its way
to a wholesale distributor

in Brainerd, Minnesota.

Who then shipped it to
a whimsically named little shop

called "Gun Ho!"
on Staten Island.

When?
Less that a month ago.

Gun Ho! sold it last Thursday.

We have a legal purchase?

Complete with loophole.

It's a long gun,

so no background checks
are required.

Cash sale.
Of course.

Buyer's signature
on the affidavit?

Yeah, but it's illegible.

And I guarantee you,
it is bogus.

(Cragen)
Okay, well, looks like, uh,

"S. Brockwull" or, uh,
"Rockwell."

First initial could be "G"?

Who made the sale?

(Munch)
The owner of Gun Ho!

His name is--
[leafing through paper]

Brian Ackerman.

Well, he did
a pretty half-assed job.

He didn't get a clear signature
or a full first name.

Let's go talk
to Mr. Ackerman.

[knock on door]

(Stabler)
Anybody in there?

Hello?

(boy)
I'm sorry.

We're closed.

What is this regarding,
please?

A little young to be working
in a gun store, aren't you?

I'm 16, sir.
My dad's the owner.

What's your name?

Kyle Ackerman.

Your dad leaves you here
all alone?

Yeah, I sweep up
as part of my allowance.

Kyle, you need
to open this door.

(Kyle)
Excuse me.
Do you have a warrant?

For what? We're investigating

the string of burglaries
your dad had.

We thought we'd check
the security system.

Can you come back tomorrow?

You know, I don't
feel comfortable

leaving a kid alone with
all these weapons and ammo.

(Kyle)
I've been around guns
all my life.

You can't be back there, sir.

(Munch)
Just want to check
your security,

make sure your dad doesn't lose
any more inventory.

(Kyle)
We haven't had a burglary
in six months.

I thought you said
there was no one else here.

It's none of your business.

Could be our burglar.

No, it's not.

Hey, look, I'm serious!

You cannot go down there!

Damn, now, there's something
you don't see every day.

So what the hell
do you do here, huh?

Exercise our First Amendment
right to free speech.

"The reason the Jews
made up the Holocaust."

I'm sorry, Star.

Jew?

Hey, excuse me.
Are you this boy's mother?

I'm a friend of the family.
What's your business here?

We're investigating
the shooting at P.S. 74.

What about it?

An African-American boy

was murdered.

With a rifle purchased
right upstairs.

Oh.

You mean that dead little
jungle bunny?

She's all torn up about it.

Hey.

You can't do that.

This is not a police state.

You are destroying
private property.

And you're trespassing.
Well, we were
just leaving.

You mind coming along with us?

I'm not going anywhere with you.
Kike.

Assaulting a police officer.

Well, now you're guaranteed
a ride with us.

Oh, like hell I am.

I don't recognize the authority

of the puppets of the Zionist
Occupied Government.

Kyle, we have rights.

You call your daddy
on your cell phone,

tell him that I am being taken
political prisoner.

Clean up all the crime
in Jew York City?

Or are you just afraid
to do the job

you're actually paid for?

Chasing down gang-banging,

crack-smoking killer
spics and coons.

So you know,
I'm employed here.

Affirmative action, hard
at work, ladies and gentlemen.

Right this way, son.

Wait, wait--well,
now, wait a minute.

You can't separate us.

I demand to act
as his guardian

and be present
when you interrogate him.

Sweetheart,
he's not under arrest.

We're only gonna
let him stay here

till his old man comes
and picks him up.

Do not tell them
anything, Star.

You wait until
my father gets here.

He'll know exactly what to do.

Don't you worry, honey.

Of course he's gonna know
what to do.

He's gonna sue your ass.

I hope you've got yourself

a really good
Shyster Jew lawyer.

(Benson)
White supremacist, huh?

What's that about?

Racial purity.

There's no law
against it.

But there is
against hate crimes.

Now, somebody plastered
your stickers

all over synagogues in three
different boroughs recently.

I distribute information

relating to my group's
ideologies

as permitted by
the First Amendment.

I didn't do that.

(Stabler)
Well, what exactly

do you do, Star?

I help out a friend

whose philosophies
I happen to embrace.

(Benson)
Brian Ackerman
owns a gun store.

And he leads a hate group.

That's an interesting
combination.

You two Neo-Nazis

ever run into a guy
named "Racool," "Rockwall"?

No. Who's he?

He's the man or the woman
who shot up P.S. 74.

At first we couldn't see
a connection

between the victims.

We got Jeffrey Whitlock,
who's African-American.

Danny Kohler,
who's white, but Jewish.

And Annabelle Paoletti,
of Italian descent.

(Benson)
With dark eyes, dark hair.

You make a mistake
on that one?

Well, it must've been,
'cause she is just too pretty

to be Jewish.

Did you see your shooter?

You tell us.

I had nothing to do with this.

Well, the gun
that Rockwell used,

it came from the store
that you work at.

I just go downstairs, help out
a little bit after hours.

I don't work there.

Printing up your love notes.

Mailing out the orders.

They come in faster
than Brian can handle.

Brian's got a mail-order
business.

(Star)
Mm-hmm, on his website.

It's very, very popular.

You should check it out
sometime.

(Cragen)
"The official site of RAW.

RevolutionAryan Warriors."

Hate groups just love
the Internet.

Well, it links

the idiots together,
lets them rant.

And exchange hate tactics.

Ten years ago,
there was one website

advocating racial hatred.

Last number I heard
was nearing 500.

Maybe on the Internet,
but in New York City?

Well, they're everywhere.

On and off the Web.

Watch groups have identified
21 separate hate groups

operating in New York State.

Click on BlitzkriegKids.

(Huang)
Kyle Ackerman has his own site.

Hitler Youth are alive and well.

What does his page offer?

[siren wailing, gunshots]

(man)
Keep runnin', Jew!

Keep runnin'!

The game's called
Final Solution.

Players get to be
a cyber-clansman

or a skinhead gang member.

Chase minorities around
a virtual urban landscape.

Little webmaster-racemeister,
huh?

I have the current high score.

What the hell is JFK Reloaded?

Trust me,
you don't want to go there.
[snaps laptop shut]

They're just games.

There are plenty of games
where white men get killed,

but obviously your kind
has no problem with that.

My kind?
You mean cops?

Niggers.

(Munch)
So, you'd he happy
if somebody

exterminated the two of us

and everybody
that looks like us?

Of course not.

RAW doesn't advocate violence.

We leave that to the savages.

We all know
who those are.

You never had a chance,
did you?

What?

Your father's been
filling your head with hate

since you were a baby.

I actually feel sorry for you.

Oh, don't. I was lucky to be
born a Caucasian.

You were the one who drew
the genetic short straw.

You know, scientists
have discovered

there's really
no genetic difference

between the races.

It's only skin-deep.

Jews?

Are the descendants of the union
between Eve and Satan.

And who do you think
spawned you?

(man)
Kyle!

I need someone to help me
right now.

Preferably someone
who speaks English

with an I.Q. above 60.

The father.

Hello! Who's in charge
of this cesspool?

That would be me, Mr. Ackerman.

Really?

I didn't think they allowed
white males

in positions of power anymore.

Unless, of course,
you're homosexual.

(Benson)
You know, your rant

is even funnier in person

than it is on your website.

Ah, yeah, the requisite
tuna feminist.

Why don't you stay out
of this one, Hillary?

What have you done with my son?

Don't worry, his mind
is just as warped

as you left it.
Kyle!

Dad.

I'd like you two to repeat
what you said about my father

to his face.

Cowards.

I understand you home-school
this boy.

You afraid to expose him
to the truth?

My father's
a brilliant teacher.

He doesn't dumb down
the lessons for minorities

like they do in public school.

Or distort history
to mollify them.

(Benson)
Sweetheart.

He's completely brainwashed you.

You're the idiot
embracing the lies.

Sorry I let you down, sir.

I should never
have allowed them

to breach the perimeter.

We'll talk about this at home.
Let's go.

(Cragen)
Before you go,
you need to describe

the person you sold
the sniper rifle to.

Well, I sell dozens of guns
every day.

I don't remember faces.

Or to follow minimal
sales requirements.

Apparently you've forgotten
the Second Amendment.

It's not my job

to interfere with
an individual's

right to bear arms.

Let's go, Kyle.

Uh, what about Star?

Ms. Morrison assaulted
an officer.

She's still being questioned.

Okay, go wait in the car.

Your detectives entered
my property

without a warrant,
without probable cause--
Eliot.

They made false arrests,
they violated my son

and Ms. Morrison's
constitutional rights--

Detective Stabler,
is this true?

No, sir.

After his son Kyle allowed us

to be on the property,

exigent circumstances led us
into the basement,

where a person we believed
to be an intruder

assaulted Detective Munch.

Liar.

Paranoid?

I'm not gonna stand here
and be insulted.

What, you gotta get back

to your Holocaust denial
buddies,

cook up some more
conspiracy theories?

I'm an academic.

I address historical
inaccuracies

on my website, sir.

Well, while we're clearing up
inaccuracies,

this is the gun purchase
affidavit

that you were kind enough
to fax over to us earlier.

Yes, I believe everything
is in order.

Well, maybe you could
help us decipher

this signature here,
"G. Rockwell."

Now, could that be
George Lincoln Rockwell,

founder of the
American Nazi Party?

I don't see how
it could be, sir,

because he was assassinated
back in '67.

Was the man who bought the rifle
a member of your group,

Mr. Ackerman?

No, I've never
seen him before, sir.

(Stabler)
Describe him.

I believe he was
African-American.

That is still the current
P.C. phrase, isn't it?

I--I don't know, it just changes
so often, I can't keep up.

[phone ringing]

Officer Taylor.

[phone ringing]

What?

This is Mr. Ackerman.

He's the leader of
the RevolutionAryan Warriors.

Escort him
out of here, please.

My pleasure.
This way, Mr. Ackerman.

Get your hands off me,
thank you.

Crime lab pulled DNA off
the padding on the rifle scope.

The shooter was sweating,
gave us a hit

on the DNA database.

It's a convicted felon named
Brannon Lee Redding.

Police!

Go, go, go!

Don't move!
Up against the wall!

Is there a problem,
officer?

Clear!

Lovely place
you have here, Brannon.

Thanks.
I try to keep it nice.

There's no coloreds allowed!

"RaHoWa."
What's that?

(Fin)
Acronym.
Racial Holy War.

Mein Kampf.

I see you're not a member
of Oprah's Book Club.

Are those beer bottle caps?

Pretty cool, huh?

The fat skinhead's
not as dumb as he looks.

Lawyered up
the second we sat down.

We don't get to talk to him.

Munch and Fin said he was pretty
vocal on the ride over.

With racist epithets,
not a confession.

Do we need one?

We've got his DNA
on the murder weapon.

Which he now claims was stolen.

Pretty big coincidence
that the thief

would then shoot the son
of his corrections officer.

Well, the crap a jury
will swallow boggles the mind.

What's the timeline on the gun?

Well, Redding
was released from Rikers

Friday before last.

(Benson)
Then he bought the rifle

the following Thursday

from his fellow white
supremacist Brian Ackerman.

School shooting went down
four days later.

Do we think that Ackerman
was in on it?

Well they're in lock step
ideologically,

but that's the only connection
we have so far.

Ackerman never even visited
Rikers.

What was Brannon in for?

Assault and battery
on an Ethiopian cab driver.

Detective Benson.

Father of the dead boy.

Mr. Whitlock.

I heard you found the guy.
That true?

We think so.

Did he say anything?
Why he did it?

(Novak)
No, we were hoping
that you could

fill in the motive.

Sir, did you ever
have any altercations

with this man at Rikers?

Never.

Brannon Lee Redding.
He wasn't even on my block.

What did you have against
this corrections officer?

Nothing.
He looks like a nice guy.

You killed his son.

How did you know which kid
on that playground was his?

How'd I kill anybody?
My gun was stolen.

One in 35 million.

Now, those are the odds
against it

being anyone else's DNA
on that rifle.

Damn, I hope this Jew lawyer
they gave me

can figure a way around that.

Heshy, have you informed
your client

that if you take this to trial,

he will be judged by a jury
of his peers?

Other skinheads. Great.

No, your human peers.

It's a lovely,
racially diverse group.

What are you offering, Casey?

You first.

What does your client
have to offer?

Just my undying love
and affection.

We'd make pretty white babies
together, don't you think?

Who else was involved, Brannon?

Nobody.

Are you a member of
RevolutionAryan Warriors,

also knows as RAW?

No.
But where do I sign up?

How about in your jail cell
at Rikers

during the year you await trial?

Don't play cute, Casey.

No one's gonna put him
in the same prison

where the alleged victim's
father works.

What, you don't think
word'll travel?

It'll be fun.

You cowering in your cell
24/7.

Afraid to go to chow,
not knowing if someone

put ground glass in your food?

Okay.

Protective custody, 25 to life.

All counts to be served
concurrently.

Now, before we begin, let's
just make sure that everyone

is familiar with the rules
of my courtroom.

I have a zero tolerance policy
for shenanigans.

I appreciate that emotions
are running high.

But you must control them
if you wish to remain.

That means no outbursts
and no foul language.

Capiche, Mr. Redding?

Yes, Your Honor.

I understand you want to change

the plea you made
at arraignment?

Yeah, I want to plead guilty.

Please stand.

You may now allocute.

Describe your crime
for the court.

Uh, I shot the two Jew kids
and the porch monkey.

(woman)
May you burn in hell,

you racist pig!

(judge, banging gavel)
Order!

Madam, sit down
or I'll have you removed.

And as for you,

Mr. Redding, I am rejecting
your plea offer.

But Your Honor,
there's a deal in place.

My courtroom, my decision,
Mr. Horowitz.

And I find this... deal
reprehensible.

You should be ashamed
of yourself

for agreeing to it, Ms. Novak.

I...apologize.

A blatant hate crime,

countless children traumatized.

Two of them maimed.

And one precious young life

snuffed out.

What does Your Honor recommend?

Two options, Mr. Redding.

Withdraw the plea and take
your chances at trial.

Or accept the current offer
of 25 to life for each count.

But to be served consecutively,
not concurrently,

as so egregiously suggested.

If you should choose
to go to trial

and are found guilty,
I will show no leniency.

Your parole officer's parents

haven't even been born yet.

No. No way in hell.

I want the deal I was promised.

Court officers,
remove the prisoner.

Yeah, screw you, old man!

RaHoWa!

[banging gavel]
RaHoWa!

Order!
RaHoWa!

(Star)
Have you been brainwashed

by the Jew-controlled media?

Silence!

Or are you just another
corrupt lackey

of the Zionist Occupied
Government?

Remove that woman.

White power.

The fine for contempt
of my court

is $500, young lady.
What are you gonna do?

You gonna criminalize
the First Amendment?

You've just made it $1,000.

Court officers, lock her up.

Free the political prisoner!

That's 1,500.

Keep counting,
Mr. Judge.

I want a deal, you bitch.

Brannon, I can't talk to you
without your attorney present.

Where is he?

Jewey Jewstein sold me
down the river.

Screw him.

Heshy didn't have anything to do

with Judge Schuyler's decision.

Let's just work this out
between us whites.

For this meeting only,
I waive my right to counsel.

How's that?

As long as you don't
jerk me around

with any more lies this time.

When did I ever lie to you?

You told me that you didn't have
any ties to the group RAW.

I don't.

They seem to be all
warm and fuzzy for you.

You purchased the murder weapon
from their leader,

Brian Ackerman,

and his number one groupie
Star Morrison

is sitting in a jail cell
on contempt charges

for protesting your treatment
in court.

I didn't buy that rifle.
Ackerman gave it to me.

Why would he do that?

He conned me
into doing the shooting.

And Star's involvement?

You think I was dumb enough
to talk about business

in front of some slash?

She walked in
when I was leaving.

She's his old lady.

Who knows what
they talk about in bed.

(Stabler)
I thought you went for

the nice, clean-cut
Nazi types, Star.

What brought you
to the skinhead's hearing?

Curiosity.

Ackerman send you
to keep tabs on him?

Make sure he didn't name names?

I only went to support
a fellow white man.

I figured you would probably

renig on your deal.

I'll tell you what.

When he realized he wasn't
seeing the light of day again,

your boy Brannon's white pride
just flew right out that window.

I've never seen anybody
flip so fast.

What'd he tell you?

All about the alliance between

the skinheads
and your group RAW.

[laughs]

That's news to me.
It shouldn't be.

Brannon says you were there
when Ackerman gave him the gun.

Sold him the gun.
They weren't friends.

Well, they were friendly enough

for Brannon to confide

he'd just gotten out of Rikers.

And Ackerman telling him
that your group

tracks race traitors, and there
was a white guard there

by the name of Mark Whitlock,
who'd adopted a black boy.

This is a prisoner

who has a score to settle
against a guard.

We went through the reports.

Brannon wasn't involved in any
altercations with Whitlock.

RAW prides itself on--
on self-control and discipline.

Ackerman would never get in bed
with the skinheads

over something like this.

He got a hold of the boy's
school picture for him.

And he gave him
the murder weapon.

You're being played.

Whatever.

Conspiracy. Murder Two.

Our ADA will be calling you
to be a witness

against Ackerman.

I can't testify.

I understand you're scared.

I can take care of myself.

We'll offer you protection.

There's no way in hell

I'm gonna testify.

(Novak)
I subpoenaed Star Morrison.

Wouldn't lay odds
on her showing up.

She corroborates the meeting
between Brannon and Ackerman.

If she doesn't testify,

she goes right back in her cell

on her second
contempt of court charge.

Casey.

Did you get my notice
of appearance?

I'm taking over representation
for Brian Ackerman.

How'd you let that piece
of garbage con you, Barry?

It's not a First Amendment case.

It is if you're only
going after him

because you don't like
the things he has to say.

Have you had a conversation
with him?

Yes, and I find every word
he spews morally repugnant.

But his speech,
despicable as it may be,

doesn't entitle anyone
to trample

all over his constitutional
rights, now, does it?

(man)
Do you swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth,

and nothing but the truth?

I do.

State your name.

I plead the Fifth.

Ms. Morrison,
it's just your name.

I invoke my right
against self-incrimination

as afforded me
by the Fifth Amendment

of the U.S. Constitution.

Ms. Novak, are the People

prepared to offer this witness
immunity?

We already have, Your Honor.

(Schuyler)
Ms. Morrison, I understand

that you have been granted
immunity.

I plead the Fifth.

This witness is dismissed.

(Novak)
Your Honor,
could I please request

a brief recess?

(Schuyler)
Call your next witness,
Ms. Novak.

(Novak)
The People call

Brannon Lee Redding.

Sidebar.

Approach.

You have a problem with this
witness, Mr. Moredock?

I have many problems with
this witness, Your Honor.

First and foremost

that as a co-conspirator,

his testimony must be
corroborated.

Your Honor, we have produced
physical evidence

to corroborate his testimony.

You're referring to
the dead boy's--

[arguing]

Mr. Moredock, I'm allowing
this witness.

Your Honor--

Step back,

Mr. Moredock,
I've made my ruling.

It's a bad ruling.

Mr. Moredock.
You're allowing

your personal beliefs to, uh,
to cloud your legal judgment.

You are perilously close
to contempt, sir.

I'm just trying to protect
my client's rights, Your Honor.

In this country, even Neo-Nazis
have them.

They have the right to assemble,
the right to free speech.

And as much as
it just kills you two,

the right to a fair trial.

You will have a chance
to present your case.

Call the next witness,
Ms. Novak.

Mr. Redding, when did you
first meet the defendant

Brian Ackerman?

About a week after I got out.

And what happened
at that meeting?

He sees my tattoos, finds out
I just got out of Rikers.

Starts trying to bait me.

How?

Says skinheads are all talk.

Says his group's

more organized.

Says, "I got a whole list
of targets."

And there should be one
I'm especially interested in.

And what target was that?

The adopted Sambo of some
white Rikers security guard.

He gave me his home
and school address.

He even gave me
his school picture.

Race traitor!

Kyle!

Court officers!
Court officers!

(Ackerman)
Kyle!

Drop it!

[groaning]

Kyle, you're not
getting out of here.

We all have to make sacrifices.

Drop your weapon!
Federal agent.

Hold your fire!
Federal agent.

Federal agent, don't shoot.

Kyle?

Kyle.

(Munch)
FBI?
I can't believe you're a Fed.

You can understand now
why I couldn't testify.

Yeah, you would've
committed perjury

just by stating your name.

Which is...

Dana Lewis.

Detective Munch,

I apologize for everything
I had to say.

You have no idea
how reprehensible

I find those words.

But I had to maintain
my cover.

How long were you under?

I infiltrated
about five months ago

and worked my way up the ranks.

Here comes your partner.

Excuse me.
And you take care.

Detective Tutuola,
I want to apologize to you for--

We're good.

All right.
Take care.

So where is it you got shot?

That would be in the ass.

You want to kiss it
and make it better?

You be nice to me

or you won't get the shake
I smuggled in for you.

Fig? From McClinty's?

Of course.
Oh, thanks, man.

Thank you for not making me

have to break in
another partner.

I'm glad you pulled through,
bro.

Did anyone call Kathy yet?
No. Don't.

Eliot.
Don't be like that--

She started divorce proceedings.

When?

A couple weeks ago.

I have the papers at home,
I just haven't signed 'em yet.

How'd they get the guns in?

Uh, Christopher Rawlings
was the adult shooter.

He's a member of RAW,
he had a fake badge and I.D.

Don't have to go through
the metal detector.

They waved him right around.

Handed off the gun
to Kyle Ackerman.

Any casualties?

One of the court officers
is still touch and go.

The other one didn't make it.

And, uh, neither
did Judge Schuyler.

You talk with Brian Ackerman?

He said that he was

proud that his son Kyle
died a hero.

Fighting for his race.

Hey, Ms. Benson.
Our sting went down.

What'd you get?

Two prime targets purchasing
about 50 pounds

of ammonium nitrate, urea,

and a bunch of other fixin's
for a bomb.

It's an exact replica of the one
McVeigh used in Oklahoma City.

What was the target?

We don't know.

Well, at least you got 'em.

You're gonna like this.

During the subsequent raid,

we found some information that
may be pertinent to your case.

(Benson)
There are no pictures
of Jeffrey.

Jana's had a hard time
dealing with his death.

Counselor recommended
removing all reminders.

She must've kept
some little keepsake.

A school project,
a favorite toy?

What is this about?

This is about just how precious
your son was to you.

According to the two
insurance policies

that you took out on him,

Jeffrey was worth exactly

$750,000.

What?

(Lewis)
A bit excessive.
Don't you think?

I mean, considering

that the average
life insurance policy

on a child is only $50,000.

It's what our insurance broker
recommended.

(Benson)
And you had no problem

paying the $350 a month premium?

(Lewis)
I think you would.

Seeing as how you filed

for bankruptcy
only two years ago.

You don't have to rich to give
a child a home.

(Benson)
You filed the insurance claim
five days after Jeffrey died.

You couldn't wait, could ya?

This is insane.

These were obtained
from an FBI raid

of a skinhead terrorist group.

You were mentioned by name,
Mr. Whitlock.

(Benson)
It shows the amount
that you pledged them

from a future
insurance payment.

Somebody's setting me up.

One-third of $750,000.

How would they know
the exact amount

of your combined policies?

(Benson)
Brannon didn't get your son's
picture from Ackerman.

You're the one

who provided them
with Jeffrey's school picture.

You two adopted
this beautiful child

just to kill him, didn't you?

You don't understand--

(Benson)
People must've been surprised
that knew you.

Two racists like you
adopting a little black boy?

We're not racists.

We just needed the money.

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