EXTREME PREJUDICE: The Terrifying Story of the Patriot Act and the Cover Ups of 9/11 and Iraq

by Susan Lindauer

  As for the second charge, my Defense was always in the dark about what occurred “sometime in October, 2001.”340 However, we speculate that it involved my efforts to collect health statistics from Baghdad on depleted uranium from the first Gulf War.

  Depleted uranium has resulted in a spike in Iraqi birth defects and cancer rates from long-term exposure. In Baghdad, health officials say cancer in children is more prevalent than the flu. It’s an epidemic.

  A public debate at trial would have raised the profile of those health problems, causing discomfort for the Pentagon. Especially with American soldiers serving three or more tours of duty in Iraq, prolonged exposure to depleted uranium poses serious health risks for them—and their unborn children, too.

  There’s the rub. Birth defects rise in male soldiers as well as female soldiers. That would raise expectations about the U.S. military’s financial responsibility for long term health costs, as from Agent Orange or Gulf War Syndrome.

  That’s all it took to categorize “depleted uranium” as a “secret charge,” supported by “secret evidence.” The deception was designed to stop American soldiers and their families from receiving vital health information.

  Only by invoking the Patriot Act could the Justice Department claim authority to arrest an American citizen for collecting public health statistics. Only by invoking “secret charges” and “secret evidence” could the Justice Department pretend that such meaningful activities qualified as something sinister and criminal that should be punished by imprisonment.

  Look, it’s so terrible, we can’t tell you what it is.

  It turns out that it’s only terrible for Pro-War Congress members who want to withhold health benefits from hardworking American soldiers.

  And that’s a real crime!

  The X-Factor

  The wild card or X-Factor in any criminal prosecution on the Patriot Act would be the Judge. The outcome of my case depended how Judge Michael B. Mukasey— later named U.S. Attorney General— decided to apply these Constitutional restrictions.

  At the start, his predilections were unknown. Over time I came to see that Judge Mukasey had a razor sharp eye on the bigger picture of my case. I’m convinced he could see that once the hype was stripped away, my actions never rose to the level of criminal activity that justified prosecution.341 If the Justice Department acknowledged my work as an Asset— and my handlers cleared up a few minor points— the indictment would have collapsed into dust.

  Worst by far, the case made a lot of bad law, creating dangerous precedents that could be cited in other cases, affecting other defendants. I believe Judge Mukasey questioned if the mediocrity of evidence justified the potential damage to due process throughout the U.S. Court system. For those reasons, one could not blame Judge Mukasey if he wanted the case out of his courtroom.

  I believe that’s critical to understanding his actions.

  It was clear that I could never plead guilty to any of these charges. Organizing resistance to the United States? Forget about it. Performing as an Iraqi Agent? Conspiracy with Iraqi Intelligence? Not on your life!

  A plea bargain was impossible.

  I had to demand a Trial. In which case, Judge Mukasey had to find another way to kill the case, and clear it out of the federal court system.

  The question was how? That’s not so easy to do.

  And so I forgive him.

  The Patriot Act is so dysfunctional that it took one of this nation’s truly preeminent Judges to outmaneuver it.

  A lesser Judge could not have done it.

  That’s truly frightening, given how it was ultimately done. The actions against me provide the most damning evidence anywhere why this horrific law should be repealed immediately to safeguard the integrity of the judicial process. Our path through this Constitutional mine field would be monstrously evil. And yet, from the Judge’s perspective, it would be the lesser of two evils, compared to applying this atrocious law to court procedure for all defendants.

  Aggravating difficulties, a senior attorney would have been capable of fighting on the merits, possibly knocking out parts of the Patriot Act altogether. Unhappily, I had a junior public attorney, who lacked the sophistication to handle such a thorny law.

  My ordeal taught me a terrifying lesson why our Constitutional rights must be regarded as sacrosanct for all defendants, and protected at all costs. The Patriot Act bludgeons those rights in the most unthinkable ways. With every blow, I discovered most painfully why those rights are vital to the judicial process.

  And so I will give thanks until the day I die for Judge Mukasey’s perspicacity in using the tools available to his office to kill this case. He saved my life and my freedom.

  Because what the Justice Department tried to do next was pretty close to attempted murder. This was “extreme prejudice,” after all.

  The Justice Department and the Intelligence Community could not allow me to survive. Once the attack swept into play, they had to carry it all the way to its most vicious conclusion. Anything short of total destruction would have left ground to take down Republicans on national security, overall.

  On the morning of my arrest, I did not understand that yet. I vowed to go all the way to Trial, come what may.

  In an awful sort of way, I regarded this attack as the greatest honor Republicans could pay me. I am intensely proud that I stood out like a thorn for warning Congress of the catastrophe of War, and trying to tell Americans the truth about 9/11. I have never for one day regretted the consequences I paid.

  Still, I had no idea that my nightmare under the Patriot Act was just beginning. I was ignorant that all of our most sacred constitutional rights, enshrined by our founding fathers to prohibit political prosecutions, would be lost to me.

  I had no idea that the Patriot Act would devour five years of my life.

  I would never get my day in court. There would be no trial by jury, according to the Constitutional protections guaranteed to all Americans. By the end, I would come very close to getting destroyed—body, mind and soul.

  The powers that control the government had every expectation the abuses I suffered would lead to a lifeless Susan Lindauer, physically and spiritually damaged and discredited beyond repair.

  Frighteningly, but for one honest Judge, they would have succeeded.

  Come into my nightmare now, and let me show you why.

  CHAPTER 18:

  THE CASE OF

  THE MISSING TRIAL

  If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs

  and blaming it on you—

  If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

  but make allowance for their doubting, too—

  If you can wait, and not be tired by waiting

  or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies;

  Yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise—

  “If” by Rudyard Kipling

  The Justice Department had mounted a high stakes bluff by indicting me. But I had no intention of backing down. The Republican leadership would need its “big guns,” because I intended to put up one helluva fight. And I intended to win.

  I was never afraid of going to Trial. And I never considered pleading guilty. Not for a moment. I had my entire legal strategy mapped out within the first couple of hours after my arrest. I could see lots of mistakes in the indictment, and I quickly identified which witnesses and evidence would be necessary to repudiate the whole lot.

  I viewed it as legal harassment. But I also recognized that once a trial exposed the ridiculous nature of the charges, I would win. More importantly, the public would win, because they’d learn some important truths about Iraq, 9/11 and lost opportunities to advance counter-terrorism policy at a substantial level—like collecting financial records on Al Qaeda from Baghdad, in order to close down the cash pipeline feeding terrorism.

  The public just didn’t know who I was— yet. That would change radically with witness testimony. A trial would not be boring, for sur
e. Thanks to my work on Lockerbie, I could swiftly prove my anti-terrorism credentials. Once a jury in New York City understood the scope of my work on the 9/11 investigation, I was convinced they’d be appalled by the proceedings, and vote for acquittal.

  Proving my CIA credentials as an Asset was easiest of all. My stellar cast of witnesses included former Congressional staff and journalists, like Ian Ferguson, who interviewed my CIA handler, Dr. Fuisz for the Glasgow Sunday Herald during the Lockerbie Trial.342 One of Scotland’s finest Solicitors, Edward MacKechnie, who won acquittal for his Libyan client, Lamin Khalifah Fhimah, in the Lockerbie Trial, immediately promised to travel at his own expense to testify for me about Dr. Fuisz’s intelligence credentials and our long work relationship.343344 MacKechnie’s generous offer to assist my Defense, backed up by emails, was beyond dispute.

  I had no worries on that score. Speculation to the contrary would be completely inaccurate— strictly disinformation by the Justice Department.

  Another stroke of luck, I could present Dr. Fuisz’s deposition from the Lockerbie Trial, taken in the U.S. District Court of Alexandria, Virginia in January, 2001.345 The deposition before Judge White established Dr. Fuisz’s role in Middle East anti-terrorism from the 1980s onwards, expounding his direct knowledge of events leading up to the bombing of Pan Am #103—aka Lockerbie. The deposition included a list of 11 names of terrorists who participated in the attack, under double seal, which mapped out the conspiracy showing how all the tentacles combined together, in a sort of paramilitary defense of heroin trafficking out of the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon.

  The CIA requirements were extraordinary. Sealed inside the United States, the deposition could only be opened by another federal Judge—like Judge Mukasey—or any Judge in Scotland. Translated from government speak, the truth was so devastating the CIA only allowed the deposition to go forward on condition that nobody inside the United States could read it. In all likelihood, my jury could never examine it, either. However, it would be invaluable for advancing Judge Mukasey’s understanding of the extraordinary nature of my activities with Dr. Fuisz. Without question, the Lockerbie deposition simplified my legal strategy enormously.

  At Trial, MacKechnie’s testimony, combined with Dr. Fuisz’s deposition, threatened to blow open the Lockerbie case again.346 That meant serious headaches for the Justice Department, which has tried to clamp down discussion of Libya’s innocence, arguments that are well known in Europe and the Middle East, but poorly understood in the U.S.

  As for proving Dr. Fuisz’s ties to Iraq-related issues, that was remarkably simple as well. Dr. Fuisz had testified before Congress in 1992,347 identifying an American corporation that supplied Baghdad with SCUD mobile missile launchers before the first Gulf War. That testimony established Dr. Fuisz’ expertise on Iraqi military purchases. Armed with a slew of Congressional documents from Rep. Charles Rose’s inquiry, I had more than sufficient proof of Dr. Fuisz’s knowledge of Iraq.348 It would be an easy matter to establish his bona fides supervising my back-channel efforts to get the U.N. weapons inspectors into Baghdad.

  I was in great shape. Very few defendants could hope for so much. Without question, I felt strong enough to shoulder this load.

  I just had to practice patience for a few months—until after the November elections, unfortunately. But hey, I was free on $500,000 bond. Notoriety did not frighten me, or I could never have engaged with Libya and Iraq for eight years in the first place. I considered it disgraceful that top Republicans had orchestrated the false arrest of an Asset, as part of a strategy to actively deceive voters about key election issues—9/11, Iraqi Pre-War Intelligence, and above all, Republican performance in the War on Terrorism.

  What a fiasco! Anti-terrorism was not the “outstanding success” that Republicans pretended. The truth was flagrantly opposite. However voters would be denied the facts until after the Presidential elections.

  When Americans learned that truth—at my trial!— I was convinced they’d be furious. I was keenly aware that the calculated nature of this GOP deception might trigger an impeachment debate in President Bush’s second term of office.

  It was transparent that Republicans couldn’t face voters with the truth. So they resorted to the tactics of tyrants, arresting truth tellers, so they could hold onto power. With knowledgeable sources tied to real events out of the way, GOP leaders could salley forth to invent achievements and falsify their score card on national security.

  Oh, but my trial would debunk those lies. It would show Republicans are cheaters.

  In flights of fantasy, I envisioned Republicans wearing dunces’ hats on CNN, and placards that proclaimed: “I Will Not Lie to Voters About Terrorism Again.”

  In the aftermath of Bush’s surprise upset in 2004, and the emergence of Senator John McCain as a powerhouse on the Republican stage in 2008, the question must be asked: Would Bush have won a second term as President if Americans had known the truth about our 9/11 warnings and Peace Options before the War? Would voters have been forgiving? Would failures in the 9/11 investigation have derailed GOP ambitions?

  Myself, I seriously doubt Bush could have won.

  Inner circle Republicans must have doubted it, too— or they would never have arrested me.

  In March 2004, getting through the Pre-Trial phase struck me as more obnoxious and frustrating than anything else. My natural resilience kicked in, and I was determined that I would survive and prevail.

  From the opening hours of my arrest, the international media began hammering on my family relationship to Andy Card, Chief of Staff to President Bush.

  The White House faced serious blowback. It wasn’t going to bite the Democrats that a former Congressional press secretary in a couple of Democrat offices got jumped as an accused “Iraqi Agent.” It was going to bite the Good Old Boys in the GOP that I delivered 11 progress reports to my second cousin, White House Chief of Staff, detailing Iraq’s agreement to resume the weapons inspections.

  Worse for the White House, I’m convinced my old handlers, Dr. Fuisz and possibly Hoven, frantically contacted the top brass at U.S. Intelligence, reminding everybody that no non-disclosure agreement existed to stop me from talking.349

  I could tell everything. And I would.

  Andy Card’s day had to be going from bad to worse.

  All of the world’s media crushed into my tiny hamlet of Takoma Park, in the suburbs of Maryland, just a few miles from Capitol Hill. Russian television interviewed shopkeepers and neighbors. Friends caught the story in Taiwan, Malaysia, France, Canada and Great Britain. The global media gleefully proclaimed the same story: Andy Card’s cousin got arrested as an Iraqi Agent. Oh joy!

  Even more salacious, some media wrongly reported that I was accused of spying for Iraq. Though untrue, it added to the damage for the White House.

  Now then, I’m notoriously tenacious and stubborn in the face of controversy, or I could never have dealt with Libya and Iraq in the first place. The same could not be said for my dear cousin, Andy.

  While I was locked in the holding cage at the Baltimore Courthouse, with the global media pounding the White House for sound bites, Andy Card’s “Susan Lindauer problem” mushroomed by the hour. Andy’s cabal must have raced frantically to find a solution. They needed something to knock me off the pedestal of media martyrdom. From those first hours, I’m supremely confident the White House recognized the mistake of going forward to trial. They could see that I would never submit quietly to a guilty plea, as they must have hoped (foolishly). That message was spattered in blood on the jailhouse wall. A trial would be loud and ugly. And they would lose, because I could easily prove that I’m telling the truth. And it’s a good truth.

  I was like a tornado that threatened to rip open the Grand Old Party’s circus tents, giving voters everywhere a clear view of the stage props and parlor tricks in the Greatest Show on Earth, known as the “War on Terrorism.”

  Andy Card’s cabal needed a strategy to shut me down. And they needed it f
ast.

  At the start, their assault looked so innocuous. It was deceptively simple, in fact.

  At the end of a long and tiring day locked in that holding cage, my case finally got in front of federal magistrate, Susan Gauvey at about 4pm. She had the honor of deciding my bail in Baltimore, and approving my extradition to New York City.

  The Prosecutor ran forward to huddle in front of the judge. Apparently he had “information.” Breathlessly, he informed Judge Gauvey that a family member had told Pre-Trial Services I threatened suicide several weeks before my arrest. On those grounds, the Justice Department was demanding that I submit to a psychiatric evaluation, as part of my bail conditions. Otherwise, the Justice Department had no objections to my release, since I was not a flight risk and maintained strong ties to the local community, including owning a home.350

  It was a simple psychological evaluation. That’s how it started.

  A wonderful public defender was handling the bail release for me in Baltimore. He scurried back to drop this bombshell!

  I was astonished. I had no idea that I was suicidal. I imagined Andy Card slapping some White House colleague on the back! Good job, man! All those democrats are crazy!

  Hey, if you’re opposed to George Bush and the Iraq War, you’ve got to have a screw loose, right? It wasn’t Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld who made a mistake in Iraq. It was me, the Asset. My incompetence. My lack of risk taking and problem solving.

  “Suicidal?” I laughed in his face. “You are kidding, right? There must be two Susan Lindauers in court today, because I promise you they’ve got the wrong lady. I’ve never been suicidal in my life.”

  I was so “not suicidal,” that I had told friends many times before my arrest if anything happened to me, they should confidently scorn suggestions of suicide. I was admittedly paranoid that somebody might try to stage my death to look like suicide, given my unpopularity in the intelligence community. But friends understood I would never do such a thing. Life’s a great adventure, even in the worst of times. Even today.