Just so you know…I’m Wanted by the FBI

Okay so I am not really wanted by the FBI, I am just kidding there. However, I did work closely with them last June. At the first of the month, I was approached by the Warden (the boss of bosses), and asked if I would be interested in training with the FBI as a Hostage Negotiator. I was shocked and asked him if he really thought this was something that I would be good at; his reply was what solidified my decision as he related to me that he felt I would be perfect for the job. Therefore, when he asked me once again if I were interested, I stated, “You bet boss”. (Remember, you never ever turn down your boss when a question such as this is posed, as they have already shown a confidence in your ability that they hope to exploit, soooooo…it was off to training with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Now thinking back, I do have a history with the FBI, although it is not what you think and while it is not all that bad, though I must admit, unlike what most people can say, there is a history. Mayhap I was a bit rowdy in my high school days and while I did not meet my potential, there was a love of the sciences for me. I was fascinated by Chemistry, so much so that I found a certain self-perplexed exhilaration experienced when I saw it was, through the combination of certain chemical substances, there would in effect, be a dramatically, caustic result, combustible in nature; and thus my practice with explosive devices began. Just outside the Rolla city limits, an abandoned rock quarry became a so-called, “hang-out” spot. An area in which my friends and I could combine certain substances and create those devices in hopes to effortlessly dislodge large slabs of the rock facing off the rock wall and watch as they plummeted down into the waters contained within the basin below. I began to study the theoretical approach of attempting to focus those energies released from an explosion into smaller areas, thus maximizing the effects of the blast.

Pipe bombs I found were an easy creation within any home shop. Threaded steal pipe and JB Weld can be acquired without much effort by visiting the local hardware store, and realistically, cannon fuse or other types of ignition sources, such as those found within rocket model kits are again easily found. While there are many such materials industriously combined with dynamic results in their explosive properties, gun powder was just as easily made; through perusal of my well-worn dictionary I found not only the proper ratios but the ingredients as well. I found combining certain percentages of KnO3 or Sodium Nitrate, Charcoal and Sulfur resulted in an extremely volatile substance that could be utilized during these private studies of mine.

The background being set now let me tell you how I came to be suspect and found myself interviewed by two special agents of the FBI. I guess I have never really been a private person and while there are certainly times for one to maintain a reserved amount of privacy, I seemingly fall short to the understanding of this concept; I just like to relate stories and tell tales, secrets I find are just to darn hard to contain. Essentially everyone that I was acquainted with at that time, knew that how I enjoyed producing those devices of minimal destruction.

So one night when a fellow employee at the restaurant I worked, entered into the bathroom, and sat upon that white throne of eventual release, looked over and spied a bundle of wires, an old wined-up clock and numerous smoke bombs (readily purchased from any fireworks factory or stand); he freaked. He immediately reported the, “bomb” to the manager, who in turn contacted the Rolla Police Department. Now within any local law enforcement agency their standard operating procedures mandate, when handling any type of bomb threat, they must make the proper notification with the Federal Bureau of Investigation; and so with little time wasted, everyone was notified and the situation was well under control.

However unbeknownst to me, after interviewing those closest to me and having listened closely to their revelations, which reported my interest and often dabbled in the creation of these types of potential lethal weaponry, I soon became the prime suspect in this incident and was sought after for a lawfully sanctioned inquiry.

Inevitably, having unknowingly become the focus of those authoritarian, official eyes, I was not found until Monday morning. I was just sitting patiently within my first-period class, listening to the boorish instructor go on-and-on in his monosyllabic way about certain mathematical equations, when he was interrupted. The door opened and in walked the principle of the school, who after having requested to be excused for the interruption asked for non-other than little ol’ me. Having never been any trouble in school s I accompanied the head of our school out of the classroom and down the hall, I could not help but fear the worst as those possibilities swirled about within my mind. Together, we entered into his office where I was immediately taken aback, as I was greeted by not only a Rolla Police Office but also two Special Agents of the FBI.

After the official introduction, I was told to have a seat and for the next hour was “interviewed” about my assumed involvement in the placement of an item that was likely to cause property damage within my workplace. Armed with the knowledge that I was not party to such an absurd accusation I not only portrayed a sense of fearlessness through my use of body language, but throughout my verbalized thoughts. I related to those esteemed members of law enforcement, that if I were ever to hold the desire to plant such a device on any job site wherein I worked, then it would indeed never be something created in such an amateurish way. My device would be designed with a focus upon, not only the destruction of, but aimed at achieving the most possible damage; not resulting in the creation of something tied together so haphazardly, as to scare the fainthearted.

Needless to say this bravado was met with a force not to be reckoned with, nor challenged; by the end of this long conversation I had with these gentlemen, I just knew I was headed for jail. I was reminded at one point by an FBI agent, which his finger in my face, that if I valued my freedom and my life, then it would be within my best interest henceforth, to never work with any type of explosive device ever again; needless to say, I left that day, shaken and scared.

So I was a wanted man, alas that is not the case anymore, however the training was a grand adventure indeed…and my hat is off to these men and women who serve our country.