Created on Monday, 24 August 2009 01:37
Last Updated on Sunday, 09 June 2013 22:44
Written by Alice Jester
Page 2 of 5
#4 - Victor Hendriksen
Even when heâ€™s hunting down Winchesters, you could hardly call FBI Agent Victor Hendriksen a bad guy. He honestly believes heâ€™s fighting on the side of justice, saving the world from two very bad men. After all, thatâ€™s what heâ€™s been trained to do.
Heâ€™s a righteous son of a bitch, but thatâ€™s part of his charm. His tactics and delivery are cool, cavalier, and we knew that it would only be a matter of time before he would become an ally. Sure he learns the hard way, being possessed as demons surround the same jailhouse he compares to â€œMayberry PD,â€ but luckily the same fugitives heâ€™s hunted as wackos are crazy enough to use a toilet to get the damned thing out of him. Whatever works.
Unfortunately, we also knew given the history of this show it wouldnâ€™t be long before he joined the dead pool too. He goes out swinging and knowing the truth though, which is the heroic way to go in this show. He even gets to come back as an angry spirit, so we truly havenâ€™t seen the last of him. Death doesnâ€™t seem to be an issue on this show.
Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now.
Good. Me neither. It's my job to bring you in; alive's a bonus but not necessary.
Dean: Whoa. Kinda harsh for a Federal Agent, don't you think?
Hendriksen: Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean? I want you and Sam out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam. Bonnie to your Clyde.
Dean: Yeah, well, that part's true, but how'd you even know we were here?
Hendriksen: Go screw yourself, that's how I knew. It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis, I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad.
Dean: Hey, you don't know crap about my dad.
Hendriksen: Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwoods cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Dean: You got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero.
â€œMy job is boring. It's frustrating. You work three years for one break, and then maybe you can save a few people, maybe. That's the payoff. I've been busting my ass for 15 years and nailed a handful of guys and all this while there's been something off in the corner so big. So yeah, sign me up for that big frosty mug of waste of my damn life."