Sam Hicks

PITTSBURGH — An FBI agent slain in a suburban Pittsburgh drug raid was on the bureau's fast-track to success.

But Special Agent Sam Hicks' family and co-workers said he would much rather talk about something only slightly older than his FBI career: his 2-year-old son, Noah.

"Sam was happy to come to work in the morning, but he was always happy to go home at night," said Supervisory Special Agent Bob Johnson, Hicks' supervisor on the Joint Terrorism Task Force based out of the Pittsburgh FBI field office. "Tell me that wasn't a perfect life."

Hicks would have been 34 on Thanksgiving, but died Wednesday morning after he was shot in the upper chest, above his bulletproof vest, as he and nine other officers raided the home of Christina and Robert Korbe in Indiana Township.

The law enforcement agents were at the house to arrest Robert Korbe, one of 35 people targeted in a suburban drug sweep. Christina Korbe, 40, has been charged with criminal homicide for firing at Hicks, but has told police she thought she was firing at a burglar.

Hicks' sister, his sister-in-law and five of his colleagues met with the media Thursday at the Pittsburgh FBI office to share stories about Hicks and, more importantly, to make sure he's remembered by his son. The family plans to establish a memorial fund to benefit Noah's college education.

"We're going to do everything in our power to make sure Noah knows Sam loved him," said sister-in-law Angela Hohman, 24, of Baltimore.

Hicks is also survived by his wife, Brooke, 28. She is a Baltimore native who plans to move back to that city, where his funeral will be held. Arrangements are pending, but Hicks will likely be buried in the Fallen Heroes section of Dulaney Valley Memorial Gardens.

Hicks' colleagues, their eyes still red-rimmed with tears, remembered him as an extraordinary agent and a quick study.

They said Hicks would rather be in civvies than a suit, and on the streets gathering intelligence or grabbing drug dealers than behind a desk. But they insist Hicks was married to Brooke alone, not his job.

"He knew you weren't going to get the job done sitting behind the computer screen," Special Agent Dan Yocca said.

But Hicks knew "it wasn't about the running and the gunning all the time," said another task force member, Allegheny County Detective Terry Lewis. "It was about getting home to Noah and his wife."

Hicks quickly made great strides in his 20-month career with the FBI, and balanced that with family life. Instead of working late and making his family compete for his quality time, he came in early to get ahead on his work.

In August, Hicks was accepted into a special terrorism intelligence program in Amman, Jordan, even though bureau guidelines required at least five years of service, Johnson said. Only 10 other agents from across the nation were in the program, Johnson said.

The FBI made an exception for Hicks, based on his streets smarts from five years as an undercover drug officer in Baltimore, and his exceptional people skills.

At home, Hicks' social and other obligations were put on hold at 8 p.m., because that was "Noah time"; first a bath, then to bed.