In My Enemy's Hands

Olivia groaned when she woke up. Her whole body was stiff, though fortunately the soreness between her legs had started to fade. She rose from the couch where she had finally fallen asleep around 2am the previous night. She stumbled into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee before heading to the bathroom to shower and change.

The bruises that covered her body were starting to drift more towards yellow-green than the angry purple they had been two days before.

When she had finished dressing, the smell of fresh coffee filled her apartment. She poured herself a cup and rummaged through the chronically near-empty fridge until she found something suitable to eat.

She pulled a business card out of one of the kitchen drawers and set it on the counter. Olivia ate breakfast as she regarded the card. It took a solid fifteen minutes for her to work up to pulling out her phone and dialing the number. “Hi, this is Olivia Benson. I`m a former patient and I was wondering if I could schedule a time to come in.”

~~~

Early the following morning, Alex and Langan stood in Judge Petrovsky’s chambers. “Mr. Langan, Ms. Cabot tells me that your client was in fact Mirandized by one of the detectives on scene. You were present during his interview. Why do you say his rights were violated?”

“Your Honor, the detective who read my client his rights was Detective Benson.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Petrovsky regarded Langan sternly.

“My client was read his rights while being strangled by a naked woman who failed to identify herself as a police officer and did not inform him of the reason for his arrest!”

Alex turned on Langan with fury evident in every aspect of her face and body language. “This is ridiculous! He knew that she was a police officer, as evidenced by the fact that he called her by her title while he held her captive.”

“She alleges that he called her ‘detective.’”

“And she was carrying her gun and badge when he abducted her. Her badge was recovered from his bedside table; there is no way that he can deny knowing that she was NYPD.”

“Is this true, Mr. Langan?”

“Yes, Your Honor. But the fact that he may have had prior knowledge that she was police does not excuse the fact that she did not identify herself or that she was sitting on top of him naked and had him in a chokehold.”

“He was going for a gun. She used necessary force to restrain him and, as for her state of dress, Detective Benson would not have been naked if she had not just been raped by your client.”

“It is still standard procedure for an arresting officer to state the crime for which they are arresting a suspect. Detective Benson did not do so and therefore the arrest is invalid.

“Mr. Langan, it may be procedure, but it is not required by law. You’re client has heard the charges against him at the arraignment, heard his Miranda warning and responded that he understood his rights, and obviously understood them well enough to ask for a lawyer. Therefore, I am inclined to agree with Ms. Cabot. The arrest stands.”

Langan nodded his head toward her and excused himself. Alex started out the door, but Judge Petrovsky stopped her. “Ms. Cabot, I realize that things get personal when a member of the force is a target. Mr. Langan was right in this much – it was a sloppy arrest to allow a victim to be the detective who Mirandized the suspect. I trust that there will be no more such errors in judgment?”

Alex swallowed. “Of course not, Your Honor.”

“Good. I’m glad that we’re clear on that.”

~~~

It was almost a week later when Olivia walked into the therapist’s office. The bruises had faded almost completely and those few that remained were easily hidden with enough make-up. The therapist opened her office door and spotted Olivia in the waiting area. “Olivia! How are you?” she said as she beckoned Olivia into her office. Her trained eyes noticed the bags under the detective’s eyes and the slight hesitation in her step. All of these had been present when she first started treating Olivia for PTSD but had disappeared before Olivia had left her care.

Olivia gave a sad half-smile. “I’ve been better.”

“Are the nightmares back?” They both sat; the therapist in an armchair and Olivia in the center of a white sofa.

Olivia’s lips were suddenly dry and she hesitated, trying to find the words to speak. She reached up a hand to brush a lock of hair away from her face. “More like new nightmares.”

~~~

It takes time before a case actually goes to trial, but it seemed like a blur to Olivia. The nightmares she faced during the days kept her busy; and the nightmares she faced at night kept her terrified. It took three weeks for her to be able to sleep through the night; even when she did, it was a restless, tormented sleep that left her more exhausted than when she had laid down.

“Olivia?”

Olivia had been so distracted that she hadn’t even noticed Alex’s approach. “Alex, hey.”

“Trial on the Archer case starts in three days… we need to start going over your testimony.”

Olivia pushed back in her chair, stretching out her legs. “Yeah… um… when do you want to start?”

“Whenever works for you… Now, even, if you’re free.”

The stack of papers on Olivia’s desk was high, but not abnormally so. She glanced at the pile and decided that there was nothing in there that couldn’t wait for a bit. “Sure.” She looked around and spotted an open room. “Over there work for you?”

The two women walked over to the empty room, both of them feeling increasingly nervous about the daunting topic ahead of them. They sat with their chairs angled toward one another on adjacent sides of the table.


“I’ve spoken with the girls and their families; none of them are going to take the stand. Of the six, Maria was the only eighteen-year-old. The others are all underage and have chosen not to allow their identities made public. So, two things then. You are the star witness. Ms. Attica has agreed to testify, but you are the only one we have who was in that room. Also, whenever you mention the any of the girls, here is a list with their names corresponding to a number. That number is all you can use to identify an individual girl when you give your testimony.

“Now, you know that his counsel is restricted in what he can ask you about, but my bet is that he will be pushing the limits at every chance because you’re a part of SVU. He might say that you’re choice of job puts you at a higher risk; he might ask you about previous sexual assaults or attempted assaults. I’ll block him whenever his questions get out of line, but you need to be prepared for things to get ugly.”

“Alex, I’ve done this before. You don’t need to walk me through the process; I’ve been in the courtroom with you a hundred times.”

“Yes; as an officer of the law, as a detective and investigator and witness. Never as a victim. This time is different. Langan has no case and so all he can do is try to make things as nasty for you as possible and try to muddy the waters.”

“I can handle anything he’s got.”

Alex regarded her, her clear blue eyes clouded with concern. “I hope you’re right. But we still need to go over everything beforehand. So let’s start at the beginning. What happened when you left the station that night?”

“I drove home, went up to my floor. I was attacked from behind. He used a taser to immobilize me and then a chloroform-soaked cloth to knock me out. I never even had the chance to fight him then.”

“Did you see his face at this point?”

“No, not until I woke up in the basement.”

They did not leave that small room until hours later, far into the afternoon. Olivia held iron control of her emotions as they walked through every detail of the day she spent in captivity. She had repeated the story so many times; to the doctors at the hospital, to Elliot, to her therapist, and now to Alex. It didn’t get any easier.


~~~

After finishing with Olivia, Alex went straight home. She poured herself a glass of wine and stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. This had been by far one of the most difficult witness preparations she had done in a long time. It was never easy, asking a victim to relive their trauma and forcing them to consider and answer uncomfortable questions. Part of her task in prepping a witness lay in predicting what her opposing counsel would do and readying the witness to answer whatever horrid questions might be thrown at them. Working with Olivia today, with someone she considered a dear friend… Alex squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered the expression on Olivia’s face as Alex had grilled her on the most minute details. As the words of the day ran through her mind on a loop, haunting her with the terrifying reality of what had happened to Olivia and six innocent girls, Alex was more determined than ever to bring James Archer to justice.

~~~

Olivia’s palms were sweating and her mouth was dry as she took the stand and was sworn in. Her eyes roamed the left side of the courtroom as the ADA stood to start asking questions. Behind Alex, she could see Cragen, Elliot, Munch, Fin, and even Huang lined up, offering their support as she gave her testimony. Olivia did not let her eyes yet stray to her right, where she knew James Archer was sitting.

If someone had asked later, Olivia honestly might not have been able to recall what was said as Alex was questioning her. Her whole world started to shake as she felt herself trapped in that small box of a witness stand with her rapist in the same room. A haze covered her vision and the buzzing in her ears made it seem as though the room were closing in around her. She locked eyes with Alex and used her as a focus point to try to keep balance as her whole being was rocked.

To the rest of the court, Olivia appeared calm. She took her seat on the witness stand and swore her oath; her voice was steady and confident. Only Alex saw the look of blind panic in her eyes as their gazes met. Normally, Alex would interrupt the witness statements with brief remarks addressed to the jury, repeating and reiterating what the witness had said. When she saw the fear in Olivia’s eyes, however, Alex knew better. Through every question and every evenly-spoken, precise answer, the two never broke their eye contact. It was not until Trevor Langan stood up that Olivia began to visibly tremble.

Alex sat down and, out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw a man in a dark suit stand up. “Detective Benson.” Olivia pulled her eyes away from where Alex was sitting in front of the rest of SVU. She looked at Langan but her gaze was drawn to the man sitting at the defense table. His emerald eyes dragged her in and she was drowning in them, suffocating. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – couldn’t see anything but his eyes as they raked over her and seared into her mind.

Olivia’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and glassy. Her tongue flicked out over her lips, moistening them. “I’m sorry, would you repeat the question?”

“This is not the first time that you have been targeted because of your job, is it, Detective?”

“No.” Olivia was having a hard time swallowing, let alone thinking straight to answer questions. Archer’s gaze was predatory and possessive.

His hand closed around her throat. Sweat ran down her body and pooled in the dip at the base of her neck. His body glistened with the sheen of his own sweat.

“No, it was not,” she repeated.

“Why is that?”

“One of the hazards of law enforcement is the constant exposure to criminals who want someone – anyone to blame for their lot in life. Many feel that the police, the D.A.’s office, or the judge are responsible for their conviction. They lash out at and threaten law enforcement for that reason.”

“So, as a detective, you have received threats before?”

“Many.”

“And this didn’t concern you? You never thought that perhaps you should consider a safer career or take better precautions to protect yourself?”

“Objection!” Alex stood.

“Sustained.” Judge Petrovsky peered through the glasses that were perched halfway down her nose.

“Withdrawn.” He paced in front of her. The hairs on the back of Olivia’s neck stood on end as he approached. “Detective, had you ever received any threats from James Archer?”

“No.”

“Before these events, did you even know who he was?”

“I am James Archer – remember that name, because you’ll be screaming it soon.” His breath was warm against her neck and his arms encircled her in a vice grip, pinning her against him. His hands flowed over her naked flesh and she wanted to die from the shame of it.

“I met him briefly over ten years ago, but no. I did not remember who he was.”

“Do you recall seeing him before – maybe around the precinct or in your apartment building?”

“No.”

“And yet he was in your building several times a week for a month. He was even on your floor, and you’re telling the court that you never saw him?”

“No, I never noticed him there.”

“I see the fine observational skills of a detective serve you well.”

“Objection!” Alex was not even bothering to sit back in her chair, but remained perched on the edge of her seat as Langan questioned Olivia. She had a suspicion that she’d get a decent work-out today just standing and sitting with all the objections.

“If you have a question, Mr. Langan, ask it. Otherwise move on.” The judge’s tone was mildly exasperated.

“Detective Benson, you had an opportunity to leave with the girls, did you not?”

Olivia hesitated.

“In fact, one of the girls stated that she wanted to get you out of the basement with the rest of them, but you told her, and I quote ‘Get out! Lock the door behind you,’ is that correct?”

“Yes, but –”

“If you had the chance to leave, why did you not take it?”

“I was fighting with Mr. Archer for control of a loaded gun. I did not want her to come near and risk getting injured, so I told her to go. I did not want him to get out and go after the girls, to harm them or prevent them from calling the police, so I told her to lock the door.”

“So, you willingly stayed in the room with my client. Detective Benson, would you tell the court how many shots were fired from that gun?”

“Eight.”

“Allow me to rephrase: how many shots total, including the bullets that struck Maria Lopez?”

“Eleven.”

“Just to clarify, the gun in question is your registered service weapon?”

“It is.”

“So, you would say this is a weapon you are familiar with. How many rounds can it hold?”

“Ten in the clip and one in the chamber, so eleven total.”

“Then,” Langan paused as though surprised, “the gun was empty when you told the girl to leave and lock you in the room with Mr. Archer.

“It was, but I had no way of knowing if he had reloaded after shooting–“

“Thank you, Detective Benson.” He cut her off. “What happened afterward, when you were in the basement alone with Mr. Archer?”

“He raped me.”

“You are a strong woman, a police officer trained in self defense… how did a young man who has never taken any sort of martial arts class in his life manage that?”

“I was handcuffed and restrained by a chain that was secured to a wall.”

She ran from him, but the cuff around her ankle halted her. The strap pulled against her bones as she tugged. It would not give way. He was coming, closing the distance between their bodies, reaching out for her, pulling her to him, pinning her arms…

“I fought him, but with limited mobility, my ability to defend myself was restricted.”

“And he raped you?”

“Yes, twice.”

“And you had an orgasm?”

“Objection! Relevance?” Alex was on her feet, her eyes flashed with anger.

“Sustained. Mr. Langan, move along.”

Langan stood just to the side of a direct line between Olivia and James Archer. Every time she looked at him, she saw Archer over his shoulder. Archer smirked, a corner of his mouth drawing up into what, in other circumstances, might have been an attractive smile.

His hand yanked back on her hair; her arms shook as she tried to support her weight. Her legs trembled. Her knees were on the ground, spread slightly apart, but still trapped between James’. Every thrust threw his body against her, leaving massive bruises down her thighs. His fingers rubbed against her core as he pushed himself into her. He stretched her painfully, her body screamed against the unwelcome intrusion. He pounded into her, over and over, as his hand stroked, circled, rubbed and rolled the tender bundle of nerves nestled between her legs. She cried out and then, when it was over, she just cried.

“Detective?”

Olivia had closed her eyes and looked away. When she reopened them, she was staring at the wood on the left corner of the witness box. She felt the threat of tears rising beneath her eyes and blinked them away. She raised her eyes back to Langan.

“Detective Benson, this is not the first time you have been attacked, is it?”

“No.”

“Objection – the witness’s history is not on trial here.”

“Overruled. Let’s see where he is taking this.”

Langan’s smirk mirrored that of his client. “Tell us about what happened.”

Below the wooden barrier of the stand, Olivia twisted her hands together. “I was… on an undercover operation inside a woman’s prison. I was investigating a report of rape by one of the prison guards. One of the C.O.’s pulled me out of the cafeteria and took me to a basement. There was a bed there.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and continued. “He threw me on the bed, but I got up. He pinned me against a wall and undid my handcuffs. I hit him and I ran. But I was still in the basement of the prison; everything was locked and there was nowhere for me to go. He found me, he beat me, and he handcuffed me to the bars of a door.”

Handcuffs. Cold metal encircled her wrists. She pulled against it to no avail. She felt the heat radiate off Harris’ body – a stark contrast to the coolness of the wall behind her. She saw him in front of her, his hands pressed down on the sides of her head like a clamp; he forced her to face him even as she strained to turn away.

“What happened then?”

Olivia saw Elliot looking at her and the pain in his eyes mirrored her own. She had never told him the details of what had happened in Sealview. “I was on the ground and the guard was standing over me. He undid his pants and held his penis near my face. Detective Tutuola was my backup in the prison and at this point, he arrived in the basement. He freed me and took the guard into custody.”

“This… undercover operation – was it properly sanctioned?”

“It was approved by my captain.”

“But you did not have the cooperation of the prison administration, did you?”

“No. We did not want to tip anyone off to the presence of an undercover investigation.”

“And, because no one in the prison system knew you were there, you did not have appropriate backup, did you? It’s a rather sloppy undercover op. that allows the operative to be so viciously attacked by a suspect.”

“Objection, Your Honor – where is this going?”

“Mr. Langan, make your point or change your line of questioning.”

“Detective Benson has a history of placing herself in high-risk situations. Numerous times, she has gone undercover and baited rapists in order to secure evidence for their arrest. She suffered a vicious attack during one of these undercover stings and never pressed charges against her attacker. After this attack, she took no extra precautions in either her personal or professional life to prevent a reoccurrence. When afforded the opportunity to escape from the basement with the other girls, she claims that she did not take that opportunity in order to prevent my client from leaving the basement with a gun – a gun that she is familiar with and that she would have known was empty because she counted the fired shots. She alleges that my client raped her and yet she reached sexual climax during this alleged assault.” He faced the jury and gave a modest shrug. “My point is: she likes it.”

~~~

“Counsel! Approach!” Judge Petrovsky barked before Alex could even recover enough from the shock to object to what Langan had said. “Mr. Langan, just what do you think you are doing?”

“Your Honor, I am trying to establish a pattern that shows that Ms. Benson has a habit of deliberately putting herself in harm’s way and that–”

“No, what you are doing is tormenting a rape victim on the stand.” Petrovsky’s anger was evident in that she did not even allow him to finish his sentence. “You know the restrictions that are in place regarding the questioning of victims of sexual assault. If you so much as go near the line again, I will hold you in contempt of court.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Alex’s body was still rigid with anger when the judge dismissed them from her bench. Her jaw was clenched and she had to exert a conscious effort to keep her hands from balling into fists.

Petrovsky addressed the jury, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please disregard the last statement from the defense’s counsel.” She looked down at the court reporter who had paused her busy typing. “Let it be stricken from the record.”

Langan was shaken. He had known that his comments would provoke a reaction, but had underestimated that the judge would react so harshly. His opposing counsel didn’t even have to say a word.

He took a deep breath. This case had been over for his client before it even began. “No more questions for this witness.”

Alex stood. “Re-direct, Your Honor?”

“Proceed, Ms. Cabot.”

“Detective Benson–” Alex started to ask a question, but stopped when she saw the look on Olivia’s face.

The detective was staring at Archer; her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, beads of sweat stood out on her face. Alex moved closer to the witness stand. “Olivia?” she asked in an undertone?”

“Alex…” The single name that slipped past Olivia’s lips was a desperate plea.

Alex straightened and backed away from the witness stand. “Your Honor, the People request a ten-minute recess.”

Judge Petrovsky considered. It was extremely un-orthodox to grant a recess while there was a witness on the stand, but not unheard of. “Granted. Detective Benson, please step down from the stand. You will be re-sworn in when we re-convene in ten minutes.

Olivia’s legs were shaking when she stood to step down from the witness stand. She was thankful that the wooden barrier hid her weakness as she paused to gain control of her limbs before leaving the stand. She walked toward the door and Alex quickly joined her, leading her to a small room where they could sit for a few moments.

A bailiff brought Olivia a glass of water and then stood outside the door, leaving Alex and Olivia alone. Olivia’s hand was unsteady as she brought the water to her lips and sipped it. “Alex, what the hell was that? I’ve never seen a defense lawyer attack a witness like that.”

“I know, Olivia, I know. And trust me, the judicial review board will be hearing from me about it. But right now, we have to get through the rest of your testimony.”

Olivia bit her lip. “Alex…” Alex hated to hear Olivia’s voice sound to uncertain. “Alex, what if Langan was right? What if it is my fault? I am a product of rape and violence and maybe that’s all I`ll ever have… Maybe…”

Alex leaned forward in her chair and took one of Olivia’s hands in both of hers. “Olivia, you and I both know that that is not true. You have done so many good things, protected so many people. You are a good person and you did nothing to deserve what Archer did to you, or Harris or any of the others who have lashed out at you and threatened you. They hate you because you protect what they want to take and destroy. And they will destroy you if they can, but only if you let them. You have to be strong; you have to know that you are not the one to blame.”

Olivia drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “So what happens now?”

“Well, my plan was that after witness testimony, I was going to bring out the video of when he shot Maria. That’s the murder case, that’s what’s going to get him the death penalty. However, now we have the issue of his slander against you. Even though it was stricken from the record, that sort of comment always stays in the jury’s minds. And the video when he shot Maria…”

“… was the only time I didn’t fight him. God, this is sick. How can they think that I – that anyone – could want that? I only did what he wanted because he was going to kill someone if I didn’t.”

“Now, I could show only the second half of the video, when he actually shot Maria. The problem is that the entire video has already been entered into the evidence log for the trial. If I show half, Langan will just pull up the other half and it’ll look even worse.”

“So what do we do?”

“Well, he tried to argue that you take too many risks, put yourself in situations where you are likely to be attacked, and that you… enjoy being assaulted. So, what we have to do is walk the jury through all the good that you’ve done and how every risky situation you have gone into has been to protect an innocent victim or to gain justice for past victims. Right now, the jury sees you as a victim who has a questionable past – who volunteered for a unit that works in close contact with sexual criminals and has a history of volunteering for dangerous assignments as well. We are going to get them to see you as a strong detective who is willing to risk everything and put her life on the line in order to protect those around her.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“We’re going to have to go into some of your past cases; especially the Harris case, since that’s the one Langan brought up. Judge Petrovsky will give us a little extra license because of how far out of line Langan went earlier. Then we’re going to go through this case, again. All of it. Not so much the physical details, but the emotional side. We are going to show the jury your commitment to getting those girls out of there and how your every action since waking up in that hell-hole was to keep them safe and get them out. And then we’re going to play that video and let the jury see him kill Maria in cold-blood.”

There was a knock at the door and they both stood up and headed back into the courtroom.

“Detective Benson, how long have you been a member of the Special Victims Unit?”

Olivia was back on the stand. “Over thirteen years.”

“And your work requires you to daily interact with people who have been abused in unspeakable ways and to find their attackers. Would you say you are emotionally invested in your work?”

“There is no way not to be.”

“Your work has put you in dangerous situations?”

“Yes.”

“And sometimes you have gone into dangerous situations of your own will?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I deal with a lot of criminals in my job, but more importantly, I deal with victims. I see their pain, their suffering, their desire for justice and the crushing knowledge that justice does not right the wrong that was done. I see that and I want it to stop. In hostage situations, there have been times that I was the first one on the scene. My job was to negotiate with the perpetrator in order to free his victim and if I had to step into a volatile situation to do that, sometimes I did so. I am always armed on the job; when going after an armed suspect, I typically wear a bullet-proof vest; and I am trained in self-defense. If I can talk a perp into freeing a victim, that is one less innocent person who could be killed. My job as a police officer is to protect and serve and I have done and will continue to pursue that goal, even at the cost of occasionally risking my personal well-being.”

“You take your job very seriously, then.”

“I do. Every victim should have the right to see their attacker in jail and should have someone who will fight for justice on their behalf.”

“In the case that Mr. Langan alluded to, when you went undercover at a women’s prison… can you tell us why you decided to pursue that mission?”

“A rape was reported to my unit but, when I went to speak to the victim, she refused to speak with me or any other police officer. She was scared of retribution against her mother if she spoke. I went to the prison to speak with the mother, but got no information from her either. Shortly thereafter, the mother was found dead in the prison. It was officially ruled a suicide, but our medical examiner had reason to suspect that it was a homicide. I went into the prison in order to find justice for this young woman and her mother.”

“And in doing so, you were assaulted.”

Olivia nodded. “I had thought that I would be able to protect myself. I thought that if anything happened, I would just be able to call for help and it would come. I overestimated my abilities and I suffered for it. But my identification of the prison guard combined with that of the young woman helped to put him away. So at the very least, I got justice for her.”

“But not for yourself?”

“No. There were… technical legal issues regarding the undercover operation that prevented the D.A.’s office from filing charges against the guard for assaulting me.”

“How did you feel after these events?”

Olivia swallowed. “Angry, I suppose. Scared, ashamed… I experienced the same emotions that I see every day in rape victims and victims of sexual assault.”

“But still you continued in your work?”

“Yes.”

“And when you were abducted and woke to find yourself trapped in a room where six innocent girls were also being held prisoner, how did you feel then?”

“I wanted to protect them.”

“But you were also trapped. How could you have helped them?”

“I tried to convince Archer to let them go. I said that if he needed a hostage, I was all he needed – keeping the girls captive would give him no additional benefit and letting them go would be perceived as a good-faith gesture when the police came to talk him down.”

“What was his response?”

“He threatened the girls with my gun and ordered me to get on my knees. I couldn’t let anything happen to them, I just couldn’t.” Olivia shut her eyes as she continued. “I did what he told me to do because I didn’t want him to hurt the girls. I told him to stop, I said that if he’d stop what he was doing and let the girls go, maybe he could get a plea bargain.”

“And how did the defendant reply?”

Olivia opened her eyes and looked at the jury. “He told me that if I gave him oral sex, he would let one of the girls go. He said that if I didn’t or if I kept trying to talk him out of it, he would shoot one of them in the shoulders and knees so I could watch her bleed to death. There was no other choice for me other than to…” For the first time in her hours on the stand, Olivia’s voice was raw and gravelly with anger. “…to submit to that bastard.”

Alex allowed a pause after Olivia finished speaking before she asked her next question. “What happened then?”

“He forced himself into my mouth. I could barely breathe and was choking, but he wouldn’t stop. When he finished, he pushed me down and ejaculated on my face. I vomited and he started to leave. I reminded him that he had agreed to let one of the girls go. That was when he shot Maria Lopez. While she was on the ground, bleeding to death, he pinned me to the ground and told me that it was my fault she had died. Then he beat me until I blacked out.”

“Thank you, Detective Benson.” Alex turned to face the twelve people in the jury box. “Every time a firefighter runs into a building, he risks his life. He knowingly races headlong into that fire to pull out someone who is trapped, suffocating, in imminent danger. He does not go into the fire because he likes the heat or because he is unaware of the danger of severe burns. He goes into the fire because there is someone to protect and he considers that life worth saving even if it involves risking his own. Detective Olivia Benson is no different. Even after a great deal of personal suffering, she has proved over and over again that she is an outstanding police officer and detective who is committed to protecting and serving those around her. Detective Benson is not only a victim in this case; she is a hero for doing everything possible to ensure the security and release of the other victims.”

Judge Petrovsky regarded Olivia. “Thank you, Detective Benson. You may step down.”
As the bailiff opened the door to escort Olivia out into the hallway, she saw a television set being wheeled in.

~~~

The trial stretched on for a full week and into a second. Olivia went some mornings, but she was always the last to enter the courtroom and the first to leave before the trial recessed for lunch. She sat in the far back and avoided talking with the other victims or their families. In the afternoons and on the days when she was not watching the trial, Olivia went to SVU and worked, pouring herself into her cases.

Three months after the ordeal and seven court-days into the trial, Olivia received a call from Alex just before lunch. “Benson,” she snapped into the phone.”

“Olivia? It’s Alex. I wanted to let you know that the jury is going to start deliberating this afternoon. Do you want to come down to the courthouse?”

Olivia flipped shut the file on her desk as she stood and grabbed her jacket. “Yeah, I’ll be right down.”

By the time she got to the courthouse, the jury was already in session and the rest of SVU were all there to wait with her. They sat clustered together as they waited. The time ticked by as though each second were an hour. Finally, the jury returned.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

The foreman of the jury stood. “We have, Your Honor.”

A bailiff took the sheet of paper from the foreman and brought it to the judge. Petrovsky scanned the page, her face unreadable, and handed it back. “Will the defendant please rise?”

Archer and Langan both stood.

“How does the jury find?” Petrovsky asked.

“We find the defendant guilty, on all charges.”

Petrovsky lifted her gavel. “Mr. Archer, you will be taken to Rikers Prison until your sentencing hearing, set a week from today. Court is adjourned.” The gavel came down.

Archer did not say anything; he looked at Olivia and smiled. “Detective Benson!” he called out to her. Olivia looked up. Her back stiffened and she balled her fists. She walked over to the defense table, where two bailiffs were putting handcuffs on him.

“It’s over,” she told him. “You’ll spend the rest of your worthless life in an 8 by 10 box. And a pretty boy like you should be real popular on the block – hope you can take what you dished out.”

“Are you kidding?” James Archer threw back his head and actually laughed. “I raped some cop bitch; I`ll be a fucking hero.”

Olivia turned her back to him and walked away. She headed for the grieving Hispanic couple that she had avoided speaking to throughout the trial proceedings.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lopez? My name is Olivia Benson…”

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