True Crime Campfire - The Magician and the Fool: The Story of the DC Snipers
Episode Date: March 29, 2024Do you remember Snow White, campers? You know, the princess whose step mother was so jealous of her beauty that she cursed her with a poison apple? Today’s case is like that. Someone whose wrath and... anger was so terrible that it harmed everyone it touched. To him, not getting his way was a fate worse than death and in order to right the wrongs, he’d commit crimes that would change American lives forever. With the gift of a single pastry, he would ensure a child’s loyalty so completely that the child would kill for him. He was a manipulator, a magician, and along with the naive fool that accompanied him, he would kill dozens of people. Join us for Part 1 of this chilling true crime story.Sources:Vice documentary "I, Sniper"The History Channel's "Crime of the Century," episode "The Beltway Snipers"King 5 News:https://www.king5.com/article/news/dc-snipers-first-intended-victim-speaks-out/281-332833536Newsweek: https://www.newsweek.com/opening-shot-146761Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/crime/lee-boyd-malvo-10-years-after-dc-area-sniper-shootings-i-was-a-monster/2012/09/29/a1ef1b42-04d8-11e2-8102-ebee9c66e190_story.htmlhttps://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2022/10/01/timeline-dc-sniper-attacks/https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/2002/11/01/gun-store-cant-account-for-weapon-tied-to-sniper-case/ee54a3d2-a53c-44e8-9423-50ce4115c28b/WUSA 9 News: https://www.wusa9.com/article/news/local/20-years-later-paul-laruffa-survivor-of-dc-snipers-malvo-muhammad-is-not-obsessing-but-hell-never-forget-either/65-055e1e42-c72e-4bab-b393-286eefe88037NY Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2003/10/22/us/polite-but-dogged-sniper-suspect-offers-defense.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss https://wtop.com/supreme-court/2019/10/beltway-sniper-victim-hopes-lee-boyd-malvo-gets-chance-at-rehabilitation-before-scotus/https://www.nytimes.com/2003/10/22/us/polite-but-dogged-sniper-suspect-offers-defense.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss https://www.cnn.com/2013/11/04/us/dc-area-sniper-fast-facts/index.htmlTucson News: https://tucson.com/news/local/crime/d-c-snipers-allegedly-targeted-tucsonan-in-02/article_64f562f8-5b2d-529a-b567-c28d822c48bd.html Psych News: https://psychnews.psychiatryonline.org/doi/full/10.1176/pn.39.23.00390013CNN: https://www.cnn.com/2004/LAW/02/10/sprj.dcsp.sniper.beaten/index.html SCOTUS Blog: https://www.scotusblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Muhammad-stay-application-11-3-091.pdfHistory.com: https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/washington-d-c-sniper-john-muhammad-convictedFollow us, campers!Patreon (join to get all episodes ad-free, at least a day early, an extra episode a month, and a free sticker!): https://patreon.com/TrueCrimeCampfirehttps://www.truecrimecampfirepod.com/Facebook: True Crime CampfireInstagram: https://gramha.net/profile/truecrimecampfire/19093397079Twitter: @TCCampfire https://twitter.com/TCCampfireEmail: truecrimecampfirepod@gmail.comMERCH! https://true-crime-campfire.myspreadshop.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.
Transcript
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Hello, campers. Grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire.
We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie. And I'm Whitney.
And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction.
We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire.
Do you remember Snow White, campers? You know, the princess whose stepmother was so jealous of her beauty that she cursed her with a poison apple?
Today's case is like that, someone whose wrath and anger was so terrible that it harmed everyone
it touched. To him, not getting his way was a fate worse than death, and in order to right
the wrongs, he'd commit crimes that would change American lives forever. With the gift of a single
pastry, he would ensure a child's loyalty so completely that the child would kill for him. He was a
manipulator, a magician, and along with the naive fool that accompanied him, he would kill dozens of
people. This is part one of The Magician and the Fool, the story of the D.C. Sniper's.
So, campers, for this one, were in Tacoma, Washington, where a 21-year-old Kenya Cook was
finally ready for a new start. She and her six-month-old daughter were looking for a safe haven
from Kenya's violent monster of an ex-boyfriend.
She found it at her aunt's house.
On the night of February 16, 2002,
Kenya's safety would be shattered with the ringing of a doorbell.
She was by herself,
so while her baby was babbling upstairs
waiting to have her diaper changed,
Kenya answered the door.
Standing there, she saw a black teenage boy
with his hands in his pockets,
high cheekbones and a wide smile.
The boy looked 16, maybe 17,
and when he spoke to her he made jokes.
And in his head, he heard a voice admonishing him.
It was the paternal, demanding voice he always heard in his head nowadays, the man's voice.
It said, do not make this personal.
This is not a person.
This is an end.
You are here for retribution and punishment.
Be natural.
For a moment, the boy saw his own face in Kenya's, a face he had grown to hate.
His demeanor shifted.
The light left his eyes, and he raised his arm toward Kenya.
He was carrying a borrowed 45-caliber handgun.
He pulled the trigger, close range in her face, and she died instantly.
The boy later said when he tried to remember her face, he could only see his own,
the old, weak, wayward version of him.
He vomited after, but he knew what had just begun,
what he would have to do later.
Kenya's family, who remembered her as kind and outgoing, as a great cook who was a natural in the kitchen,
who knew her as a great mom who was finally catching a break, were desperate for answers.
Her ex had an alibi, and other than him, she had no enemies.
The case would cool, and then eventually go cold.
It wouldn't be until much later that they found out what had begun on the front porch on that cool night in February.
The next month, the boy was in Tucson, Arizona.
There, the man taught him how to hunt.
Here were some photos, he said, of a man we've been hired to kill.
Someone gave me $25,000 to do it, so we'll do it.
Now, who would want 60-year-old Jerry Taylor dead?
Was none of the boy's business, but if it was going to bring him money, he knew what had to be done.
He and the man tracked Jerry's comings and goings.
From the grocery stores where he traveled as a frozen food salesman to
home to the golf course. The man even urged the boy to speak to Jerry at work, to look him
in the eyes, to make friendly small talk. As they followed him, a pattern emerged. Jerry loved
golf and spent hours at the local golf course practice range, perfecting his game. This, the man said
in the boy's ear would be where they'd earn their money. It was secluded in the course where
Jerry practiced his chip shots was surrounded by the desert in mesquite bushes. The boys
orders were clear. He could hear that paternal voice in his head again and again, telling him,
shoot the person, hide the person, leave. So on the morning of March 19th, the boy headed to the
golf course carrying a semi-automatic rifle, where he found Jerry Taylor practicing his chip shots
and waited. Who knows how long he lurked, watching Jerry as he swung his golf club again and
again. He waited until Jerry walked toward him looking for a ball, and he squeezed the trigger.
shooting Jerry in the chest. Jerry never saw it coming. The boy dragged his body into the cover of
the bushes, felt around in Jerry's pockets until he found his wallet and brought it to the man in the
desert, showing him proof that his grim task was done. The man looked at the wallet, ignoring the
$15 inside and throwing it to the ground. He was disappointed, he told the boy. You have to become
better. You have to become flawless. In order to do what I need to do, you need to be
become that monster.
A golf course employee
would later find Jerry's body partially
hidden in the bush. The
Tucson police immediately established a
perimeter and began looking into Jerry's life.
If what the man said was
true, Jerry had a seriously powerful
enemy, but if he did, the police couldn't
find it. The case quickly
lost steam, leaving Jerry's family
to pick up the pieces.
To the boy, he was
no one, a job.
To his daughter,
Cheryl Shaw, Jerry was her family's glue. He was the peacemaker. Throughout the next several months,
the man urged the boy to collect donations by stealing money and electronics as they made their way
across the country. By September 5th, the boy had made it to Maryland. Thousands of miles from
his first kills. He was a little more sure-footed. Maybe it was the last few months on the road
combined with the crimes he'd committed since the murders. They needed cash. They always needed cash
for the plan to work.
It was the boy's job to make sure they got it.
Just like with Jerry Taylor, the man had a system.
He would leave whatever shitty motel they were staying in and drive around to do recon,
and by the time he came back, he'd made a decision.
This time, the owner of Margarina restaurant was their next target.
The boy wasn't sure how the man picked his targets, but by now he knew better than to ask.
All he needed to know was what the man told him.
The man accompanied him to the restaurant where the boy waited patiently.
for their target to emerge.
55-year-old Paul Larufa was having a good day.
The restaurant had turned a nice profit, over $3,500,
and after closing time, there'd been a staff party.
One of Paul's favorite things about the restaurant
was that the staff really cared about each other.
They always had a great time together.
After the party, Paul grabbed his laptop
and the restaurant's bank bag
and headed to the same parking spot that he parked in every day.
I think there's a good chance that this is why the man chose Paul.
He got off work after.
dark, he carried a lot of cash and he had a consistent schedule. It could have been any restaurant
manager. Paul was just the unlucky winner. Very true. Killers have been known to watch their victims
for days to get an idea of their schedule and habits. Dennis Raider, BTK killer, bad poet, and frequent
TCC punching bag would stake out his victim's homes for days before he would strike.
Yeah. Anyway, as Paul got in his car, he placed the money bag in the laptop in the back seat.
As he sat there, he saw something move to his left.
Before he even had a chance to react, the first shot was fired.
That first, life-altering blast shattered the window and was quickly followed by four more.
In all, Paul was shot five times.
The boy calmly grabbed the bank bag in the laptop and dissolved it in the night.
Paul had been shot twice in the chest, once in the side, and once in the neck.
In the terrible silence that followed the gunshots, he said his loved ones flash before his eyes.
No.
I thought about my wife.
I thought about my grandkids.
I could see each one. I thought about my son. I actually thought of a funeral. And then I said, no,
that's not going to happen. I'm not going to die in a parking lot.
Oh, bless this horror. He exited his car and stood up as blood spurted from his wound in arcs,
spraying the side of his car. Unsteadily, he turned towards his restaurant and saw one of his friends
holding a phone, calling 911. The call itself is harrowing to listen to. You can hear Paul in the
background pleading for paramedics to hurry because he couldn't breathe.
The two bullets into his chest had collapsed both of his lungs.
He told the dispatcher that he didn't want to die,
and the dispatcher told him, we're not going to let that happen.
And they didn't.
After hours and hours of surgery, Paul survived,
but the ghost of the shooter still haunted him.
Was this random?
Would the shooter come back?
He spent the next month recovering and looking over his shoulder.
He wondered, did he know my name?
Was he sure I was dead when he walked away?
Who was I to him?
Paul wouldn't know the answer to that last question for a month, but remember, to the man and the boy, it was simple.
Paul was no one. A means to an end. The man ordered the boy back up to Washington. He wanted to visit
an old friend and see if they could get their hands on more firepower. Specifically, firepower that
couldn't be linked back to them, or the murders they'd already committed. The man led the boy to
bullseye indoor shooting range and gun store. The owner had met them at a gun show months earlier,
and had given them a business card.
At the store, the boy walked in,
where employees had a Bushmaster AR-15 laying on the counter.
Calmly, the boys set the case on the counter,
loaded the gun, and walked out.
No one saw him or even stopped him,
which is just flippant terrifying.
Uh, yeah, fun fact,
that same gun store got in trouble with the ATF
because on top of this gun,
they also couldn't account for 300 other guns that year.
Just poof, gone, no sales record.
Yeah, good job, guys.
Way to keep it together.
Yeah, the store owner goes on and on about how guns are his God-given right,
but for all that pomp and circumstance, it seems like Homeboy doesn't know how to count past two.
I mean, like, those could be anywhere.
People could just be walking in and walking out with them.
That's that is terrifying.
The man knew that the time was soon, but the boy wasn't ready.
He needed more practice.
In practice, they did.
On September 14th, the boy shot and wounded Benny Oberoi
in Silver Spring, Maryland.
The next day, he shot Muhammad Rashid in the stomach outside of the liquor store he owned.
He survived as well.
On September 21st, Millian Waldemarium was shot three times and killed in Atlanta, Georgia.
That same day, in Montgomery, Alabama, liquor store owner Claudine Parker and her employee, Kelly Adams, were shot.
Claudein didn't make it.
Kelly survived.
Two days later, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, hung in.
M. Ballinger was closing up shop at the beauty supply store she managed and heading to her car.
Like Paul Laruffa, she was carrying the day's profits in her bank bag.
The boy shot her, stole her money, and ran away while witnesses scrambled to administer aid.
Paramedics in a nearby parking lot were waved down.
They rushed to save her, but it was too late.
Hong M. was gone.
Horrifyingly, as the police were processing the scene, a truck pulled up,
driven by an older man and a young boy in the front seat.
It was Hong Im's husband, Jim, and their 10-year-old son looking for her.
Her son would never be the same.
Her sister, Kwong Suska, thought of her as a mother figure.
She was racked with guilt about her death.
It was her idea to emigrate to the United States.
Through tears, she told the Vice documentary, I-Sniper, quote,
She was a beautiful, wonderful, lovable person.
She was a wonderful mother and wife.
gone. A gaping hole left in her family's life. The same day, the boy shot grocer Wright Williams
Jr. outside his store. Williams would survive. In spree shootings like this, it's hard to fathom the
entire crater left after the tragedies. We've talked about ripples before, how many people are
affected by every death in our cases. Family members, friends, friends of friends, co-workers,
hairdressers, customers, doctors, dentists, classmates, neighbors, journalists, paramedics, and
investigators, all touched by the tragic death of someone.
So far, we've mentioned ten people who were either killed or injured.
The paramedic, nearly a decade after Hong M. died, still cries thinking about her and her family.
That little boy staring at his mother's lifeless body from the front seat of the truck.
These aren't just names.
These aren't nobodies, as the boy like to say.
Their people with love and sadness and joy and grief and hobbies and families and pets.
Think of the ripples.
Think of the fear and grief and horror that bloomed from one person pulling a trigger when the voice in their ear ordered it.
Who could do this and why?
Lee Boyd Malvo was born on February 18, 1985 in Kingston, Jamaica to Una James and Leslie Malvo.
Una was just 19 years old while Leslie was 44.
According to Lee, they were a match made in hell.
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after lee was born una found work as a seamstress while leslie continued work as a mason their family
dynamic was unbalanced he described his mother as a tiger mom who was incredibly strict and sometimes
went too far with her punishments leslie on the other hand was nurturing and stepped in when una was
crossing a line lee was a bright kid who wanted to be a pilot when he grew up the first few years
of his life were quite happy but when he was five his parents got a divorce after una found out
Leslie had been cheating.
Una became the primary caregiver, and Leslie pretty much fucked off into the sunset.
And trigger warning here for both child and animal abuse, if you're not in the right headspace
for that, you might want to skip ahead 30 seconds or so.
This is where the abuse began.
Anytime Una was frustrated or upset, she'd take it out on Little Lee.
He quickly learned to cope by disassociating any time he was being beaten.
Lee started acting out.
He targeted local feral cats with the slingshot, injuring, and sometimes killing them.
As Jamaica's economy started to falter in the mid-90s, Una decided to move to Antigua to seek out work,
leading Lee by himself. Literally. He was homeless. He slept on friends' couches, found help from
strangers, and learned to fend for himself. By the time he was in high school, he'd already attended
14 schools. Jeez, Louise. At York Castle High School, 12-year-old Lee met a teacher by the name
of Winsome Maxwell. Winsome found out that Lee was homeless and immediately took him in.
Teachers like this are wonderful.
Oh, my God.
Yeah.
It was the first time that Lee ever had his own room.
She told the documentary, I-Sniper,
All we gave him was love, and that was all he ever wanted.
This was the first time Lee felt anything close to comfort since he was five years old.
His behavioral problems all but disappeared.
He stayed with the Maxwell's for two years until one day Una called up Winsome and said,
Lee is getting on a plane tomorrow and coming to Antigua.
Imagine that home horrible that must have been for him, to leave a home that cared for him to live with his abusive mother.
And kids have no say. I mean, you're a minor. Like, that's it. You don't get to decide. You know, for, I mean, for obvious reasons. But, like, in a situation like that, that's just a nightmare.
Yeah. And I have to, like, I have to wonder, like, why did she, why did she want him back? Like, she left him alone.
Oh, God knows. Yeah.
The next morning, Winsome took Lee to the airport and gave him a hug.
He told her, I'll be back.
Today, all these years later, she says she's still waiting for him.
His mother wasted no time in abandoning him yet again, leaving Lee to fend for himself.
Lee started earning money by burning CDs and selling them.
In the year 2000, Lee was sitting in an internet cafe burning CDs when he saw a man sitting with his son.
The little boy was playing a video game.
Lee felt a pang deep in his gut.
That longing for love and comfort that he never seemed to be able to keep hit him like a truck.
He couldn't help but stare.
The son told his father that he was hungry, so the man went to the bakery next door.
He bought a drink and a cinnamon roll for every boy in the cafe and set down the food and drink without saying a word.
To Malvo, this was earth-shattering.
He said, we didn't have fathers like that.
Someone who actually cared and listened would do anything for his job.
children. This was, it was what I wanted. That cinnamon roll would start Lee on a path of
destruction and death that no one in his life would suspect him of being capable of.
God, the bar is so low for parenthood and people fail to clear it every day. It's just sickening.
All this kid wanted was somebody to see him, you know, really see him and care for him.
The man in the internet cafe was John Allen Muhammad. He was born John Allen Williams on a
31st, 1960 in New Orleans, Louisiana. John was one of six siblings. Despite one bizarre article
that insisted that John had a normal, idyllic childhood in a, quote, typical African-American
household, everybody pretty much agrees that the house was a nightmarish hellhole. John's mother
died of cancer when he was two years old. After that, his dad abandoned the family,
leaving them to be raised by various family members, many of which were abusive.
So obviously we've got another content warning coming up.
Skip ahead 30 seconds or so if you don't want to hear about some child abuse.
According to later testimony by his siblings, they were beaten with hoses, extension cords, fists, and branches.
One of their uncles, Felton Holiday, was charged with assault with a deadly weapon
after he beat a mentally disabled student to death at a reform school where he worked.
Physical abuse was clearly part of his everyday life.
John joined the Army in 1985 and was designated as an expert marksman, which is the highest
level achievable in the Army. According to the History Channel, he would have to have hit
at least 36 of 40 targets at distances ranging from 50 to 300 meters.
He served in the Gulf War in 1991 as a combat engineer.
His army service was marred by his incapability to follow orders.
In 1983, he was convicted of hitting a superior officer.
for his crime he was fined $100 and received a suspended sentence. Despite all that, he was
honorably discharged in 1995. He converted to Islam in 1987 and legally changed his last name to
Muhammad. While serving at a base in Tacoma, Washington, he married a woman named Mildred Green
in 1988. At first, he seemed like a great husband. He doted on her, nicknamed her Tinkerbell,
was always happy to take her out on the town and show her off. They had three kids together, a boy,
and two girls. John, Selena, and Taliban. John was an attentive father. Home videos show him
encouraging and playing with the kids. But something changed in him when he got back from the
Gulf. He was angrier, more violent. His abuse was primarily verbal, but as we know, that can be
just as damaging as physical abuse, sometimes worse. She wrote in her book, Scared Silent. I've said
it many times, the man that I'm married is still in Saudi. The man that returned is a
complete stranger. For six years, she endured the abuse until Mildred saw a public service announcement
on TV about abusive relationships. She suddenly realized what kind of relationship she'd been in all this
time. She filed for a protective order and separated from John. In March of 2000, John picked up the kids
for a regular visitation, but never returned them. Mildred filed a missing person's report, but John
Alad Muhammad had already left the country with all three kids. What a flippant nightmare.
For 18 months, he kept his children. We don't know if he stayed exclusively in Antigua,
but we do know that that's where he met Lee Malvo. To Mildred, she lived in terror. She told
Vise that she was convinced one day John would snap and kill the kids in their sleep or that
she'd never see them again. After the gift of Snapple and a cinnamon roll, Lee was ready to follow John
anywhere. He finally had a father figure, one that wanted him around, one that really loved him.
Eventually, John decided it was time to go back to the States, and so with Lee in tow, he and his kids
traveled back to Washington State. Unfortunately for John, he didn't have any money, so he applied
for food stamps and welfare benefits. The state employee who reviewed the application thought
something was off, so they reported it to the sheriff's office. The deputies moved quickly to take
the kids into custody. They immediately called Mildred, who was finally going to see her children again.
She said that when the deputy told her he had her kids, she said, what she talking about? And then screamed,
which is just so cute that we had to include it. I can't imagine the relief she felt.
She had to return to Tacoma for an emergency custody hearing. Her friend, Issa Nichols,
agreed to go with her to the courtroom for moral support. She'd helped Mildred escape from John,
and she knew her friend was going to need all the love she could get. Get you a friend?
like Issa.
Mm-hmm.
The court hearing took place on September 4th, 2001 in Tacoma.
The judge saw a clear case of parental kidnapping and granted Mildred primary and sole custody
of all three of her babies.
When he was told that his visitation was revoked, John was furious.
Even in the court recording, you can hear the rage in his voice when he says,
So you're telling me, I can't see my children?
He repeats it again and again, just in disbelief, like a man who'd never been told no about
anything in his life.
That tends to happen when you take them and skip the country, dude.
For over a year.
Like, this is...
Surprise, surprise, John, yeah.
And the news got worse for John.
The judge told him that the divorce with Mildred was finalized, and since she lived
out of state, she could take the kids with her.
Boom, bang, boom.
John Muhammad's life disrupted.
He was shocked.
I don't know why, but he was shocked.
He signed the court documents in a fury, and, like, Mildred was like,
He just flipped them back to the judge, which he's so lucky he didn't get charged with contempt.
As Mildred Issa and Mildred's lawyer walked happily out of the courtroom, Mildred sent someone approaching quickly behind her.
Instinctively, she turned to look and saw John speeding toward her.
She took off running, shoe slipping off her feet as she tried to escape.
He cornered her against the door of a courtroom and put his hand above her to stop her from leaving.
He leaned down slowly, smirking, and said, gotcha.
Oh, God, that's creepy.
Very creepy.
And Mildre's lawyer was immediately like, oh, hell no, and told her to leave town that night with the kids.
And she did.
She moved them to the D.C. area, hoping that John wouldn't be able to find her.
Mildred Muhammad, by the way, as you'll find out more as the story goes along, is it total badass.
Like, I've watched her speak a bunch, and she's an amazing woman and domestic violence activist.
She's one of the coolest people we've ever researched.
Yeah, she's just incredible.
She's amazing.
We love children.
Over the next months, John's rage grew.
He still had Lee, but losing his biological children snapped something inside of him.
The injury was too much.
The man and the boy were on their own.
And John wanted revenge.
Retribution, as he told Lee.
But Lee heard a very different story.
Soon, Muhammad was training Lee physically.
He gave him survival training, sometimes tying him up in the wilderness and nothing but shorts.
He would keep him up for days at a time, starve him.
To Lee, who had never had a father figure, this was normal.
He never questioned Muhammad.
He was too afraid of alienating the only dad he'd ever known.
Muhammad definitely took advantage of that.
Taking him through grueling exercises, controlling what he ate, what he read, what he listened to, preparing him, he told him, for the war against the U.S. government.
The U.S. government was the reason the Jamaican economy collapsed and Lee's mom had to move away from him.
John told him that black people would never be free as long as the United States.
state stud. Yeah, and I feel like now's a good time to say that we know racism is a huge problem
in the U.S. Obviously, black people are convicted at higher rates and go to prison longer than
white people for the same crimes. There's no doubt that we have some major issues with race,
but here's the thing. That's not what John was really mad about. Like a cult leader, he was
taken a pinch of truth here and a pinch of truth there and adding it to a big boiling
cauldron of twisted beliefs to indoctrinate Lee to turn him into a killing machine. John was
mad at the government for rightfully taking his kids away. He wasn't worried about the greater good.
He was, as always, focused solely on John Allen Muhammad.
Like many of the people we cover on this show, John's motive was pure selfishness.
But as far as Lee knew, they had a plan to save the world. The plan, John told Lee, was to kill
people to get the government to give them money so they could start a utopian society in Canada.
Oh, yeah, sure, that sounds legit, right? That kind of plan always works out great.
It never ends in tears.
It was horseshit, obviously, the kind of thing that fails before it even gets started.
The U.S. government doesn't negotiate with terrorists, and that's what John and Lee would be if they went down that path.
They'd be terrorists.
John took Lee to the shooting range a lot.
Aside from the survival training, this was their main endeavor, and John had a habit of standing over Lee talking in his ear.
Lee said that he would often hear John's voice in his head when he fired a gun from then on.
According to the Washington Post, one of the things that John liked to do was tell Lee that in order to do what needed to be done, he had to imagine himself shooting and killing the old Lee Malvo, the weak Lee Malvo, the wayward Lee Malvo.
So Malvo shot at himself over and over and over again.
Lee Malvo would have to be tested.
He would have to kill in order to do what had to be done.
John would give him a target, and he would have to execute them.
John brought him to a home in Tacoma and told him to ring the doorbell and kill whoever answered.
That is how Lee Malvo found himself on Issa Nichols' doorstep, face-to-face with her niece, Kenya Cook.
Issa Nichols, remember, was the friend that went to court with Mildred Muhammad all those months ago.
John sent his protege to murder a woman just for being friends with his ex-wife.
Issa, not Kenya, was the target.
absolutely fucking chilling
and that campers brings us back to October 2002
over the course of one month
Lee Malvo and John Muhammad would terrorize millions of people
and send investigators on the hunt for an invisible adversary
one that was two steps ahead and dangerously smart
so we're going to leave it there for part one campers but you know we'll have
part two for you next week for now lock your doors light your lights and
stay safe until we get together again around the true crime campfire. And as always, we want to send a
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