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

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EXTREME PREJUDICE: The Terrifying Story of the Patriot Act and the Cover Ups of 9/11 and Iraq Page 39

by Susan Lindauer


  They would need some dirty tricks to pull off this judicial fiasco.

  Once again, as fate would have it, Uncle Ted and I were not paranoid enough.

  When Ted, Ashala and I entered the courthouse, we were ushered into the jury room. Talkin met us, and immediately tossed a copy of the missing evaluation by Dr. Kleinman on the table. It was open to the conclusions.389

  My jaw dropped, as I read the following:

  1. “(Ms. Lindauer) grossly overestimates the likelihood of her prevailing at trial. Criminal defendants commonly (grandiosely) overestimate their chances of winning at trial— and associatedly act self- defeatingly. Making poor choices and being (legally) incompetent are not synonymous.”

  “Ms. Lindauer’s erroneous judgment, however, emanates from a reality distorting mental illness—which primarily determines how she assesses and approaches her legal case. She irrationally applies her superior intellectual ability and believes she very likely will win at trial—and that even if she does not, she will be heroically regarded for her purported “anti- terrorism” efforts, and consequently, not be sentenced according to the federal sentencing guidelines.”

  “She understands the concept of the (federal sentencing) guidelines, but because of her mental illness misjudges the reasoning that would likely be employed in applying them to her.” (sic)

  2. “She distortedly evaluates the utility, including existence— or at least availability, of evidence she reports she intends to use in her defense.”

  “The evaluator does not offer an opinion regarding the far ranging covert Government relationships and authorizations she asserts.”

  “It is, however, reasonable to conclude that it is not reality-based for her to believe she will be able to present convincing evidence she was one of the—if not the Government’s primary “anti-terrorism asset(s)”, and that once jurors learn of all she declares she has done to safeguard the welfare of the United States, they will 1) indignantly regard her being prosecuted, 2) overlook evidence against her, and 3) probably acquit her. She largely contemplates a psychotically-based defense of justification, in which she projects onto jurors how she views herself and her role in the world.”

  3. “She irrationally rejects a potentially viable defense, i.e., the “insanity defense.”

  “The evaluator does not offer an opinion whether her mental state satisfies the criteria (for an insanity defense)—only that it is reasonable to consider employing it.”

  Thus concluded the psychiatric evaluation by Dr. Stuart Kleinman, Associate Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at the Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons.

  Well, looking this over, it struck me that a burst of insanity had suddenly seized the Court proceedings. I was appalled.

  Ted Lindauer couldn’t believe what he was reading, either. He was aghast. In 40 years as an attorney, he told me that he’d never witnessed anything like this before.

  In the jury room, he turned to me abruptly.

  “Susan, you must fire Mr. Talkin immediately. Fire him, Susan! Or your defense is lost!”390

  “Tell the Judge that you’re naming me co-Counsel, while you bring a new attorney on the case. Then I will address the Court. I will tell the Judge that I have personally interviewed your witnesses myself. They are highly credible, and your story checks out in total. And I will demand a competency hearing to challenge the wrongful assumptions in these evaluations.”391

  “We’ll have a list of witnesses to his clerk by close of business tomorrow. You got that, kid? You’ll have to work fast to get it ready. Do you understand?”

  (I nodded, gratefully.)

  “But you must fire Sam this moment,” Uncle Ted pleaded with me, fiercely. “You cannot delay. You cannot hesitate. You’ve got to act right now.”

  I was in a state of shock.

  My whole life was flashing before my eyes. I’d worked in anti-terrorism for nine years covering Iraq and Libya. But I was not competent to stand trial?

  In my brain, I did a reality check.

  In August, 2001, I warned the Office of Counter-Terrorism about a 9/11 style of attack, involving airplane hijackings and a strike on the World Trade Center. Before the 9/11 Commission issued its report, the FBI confirmed my warnings in its interview with Parke Godfrey.392 I suspect Dr. Fuisz and Paul Hoven also verified it—since they freely told the New York Times about our team’s warnings.

  But I was not competent to stand trial?

  I gave advance warning about the bombing of the USS Cole, and the 1993 attack on the World Trade Center. But I was not competent to stand trial?

  I started negotiations for the Lockerbie Trial with Libyan diplomats in New York. Then I held preliminary talks on resuming the weapons inspections with Iraq’s Ambassador Saeed Hasan and senior Iraqi diplomats.

  But I was not competent to stand trial?

  It had to be a joke. A sick and twisted joke.

  Give me a subpoena, and I could prove my bona fides in any court in the land— with lightning speed. I would humiliate these idiots!

  Psychiatry had tossed reality straight out the window. These people were crazy! I mean, seriously disturbed!

  Had Dr. Kleinman actually read the charges against me?

  I was accused of acting as an “Iraqi Agent.” Obviously I had contact with Iraqi officials over several years. That’s one thing the Justice Department and I agreed on.

  As for my so-called “grandiosity,” thinking I was one of a very few Assets covering Iraq, well golly! Banner headlines in the “Washington Post” bemoaned CIA Director George Tenet’s grief that he could “count on one hand the number of Agents inside Iraq.”393 Only three of us covered the Iraqi Embassy at the United Nations, and my co-defendants got recruited after 9/11. Before 9/11, in all likelihood, I was the only Asset covering the Embassy!394

  Clearly if I was an Asset, I was one of the very few. That’s a statistical fact.

  And my work heavily engaged in anti-terrorism. That was no joke, either.

  Would a New York Jury respect my team for our advance warnings about 9/11? Or that I was up to my eyeballs winning Iraq’s cooperation with the 9/11 investigation?395 Would they be impressed that I persuaded Baghdad to invite an FBI Task Force into Iraq? Or that Iraqi officials agreed to hand over financial records on Al Qaeda figures?

  Given the fruits of my labor, might New Yorkers express disgust that the Justice Department sought to punish me for allegedly eating a couple of cheese burgers?396 Or would a New York jury understand that work was done on their behalf?

  I’d say it was a good bet. They’d probably start asking hard questions about the 9/11 investigation, too!

  Ah, but could I authenticate my story through independent sources? That was the clincher.

  The answer was absolutely yes!

  Flipping through Dr. Drob’s evaluation on the table next to Dr. Kleinman’s, I saw quickly that it was not updated after my exuberant phone call, crowing with victory about Uncle Ted’s success on my behalf.

  My heart dropped. Dr. Drob’s evaluation scorned my confidence in the quality of my Scottish witnesses from the Lockerbie Trial particularly, as evidence of my “mental impairment.”397

  This was the Twilight Zone. My witnesses included Congressional staffers, journalists, and university faculty. Their support stood as remarkable testament to my credibility within my own circle of Middle East and international contacts.398

  It was a challenging case, but I could win.

  Certainly I had no reason to throw it.

  I was dumb-struck. Talkin had fallen down on the job. But my uncle jumped into the breach and saved the day399— as Dr. Drob was fully aware. His conclusions could only be calculated to mislead the Court’s understanding of the strength of my validation.

  That struck me as grossly unethical and dishonest.

  I had a strong defense alright. Nobody at CIA or the Justice Department had to worry for little old me. Really, their concern touched my heart!


  The Prosecutor, O’Callaghan, might have some difficulties, though. He’d have to explain why I was indicted for eating cheeseburgers during the 9/11 investigation. He’d have to explain why supporting democracy in Iraq constituted a major felony. Or why an Asset should face indictment for recruiting a senior Iraqi Mukhabarat officer to help identify foreign terrorists playing hide and seek with Iraqi Intelligence in Baghdad. That was phenomenally valuable to any serious anti-terrorism effort in Iraq. It was platinum value. And the Justice Department called that “Conspiracy with Iraq’s Intelligence Service?”

  Did the FBI understand anything at all about intelligence work? (Maybe not.)

  As for this nonsense about Sentencing Guidelines, the Supreme Court had struck down the compulsory nature of federal guidelines, making them advisory only. If a jury did manage to convict me of eating a cheeseburger, the nature of the action was so innocuous— sharing a lunch that cost $15 in New York City— it would be reasonable to expect a Judge to adjust his sentencing, accordingly. It’s doubtful my actions would send me up the river for 10 years.

  Under the circumstances, my choice of legal strategy and my expectation of the consequences of a conviction struck me as entirely “rational” and “sensible.”

  On such a black day, I had to smirk that after 10 hours with me, Dr. Kleinman admitted he “could not offer an opinion if (my) mental state would qualify for an insanity defense.”

  I rolled my eyes. Obviously there was no grounds for an insanity defense. The Justice Department anxiously wanted me to use a psych defense, regardless of better options. It would be like falling on my sword to save the Bush Administration and Republicans in Congress, who had invented a wild story about the failure of my Pre-War Intelligence activities and 9/11—(and their brilliance on national security).

  Republicans were very fond of that story.

  That’s a bloody stupid argument for making bad legal decisions, however. My prosecutor was a fool indeed, if he thought I would allow him to choose my defense.

  My problem was not poor legal strategy, but a mediocre court-appointed attorney who wasn’t playing straight with the Judge. Talkin did not have 40 years in the law, like Ted Lindauer. He was over-worked and under-paid. A trial required a great deal more effort than he could put into the case. This was an easy exit.

  Psychiatry was corrupt enough to oblige him.

  I was horrified. This was like a John Grisham novel.

  “Fire him, Susan!” Ted Lindauer pulled me out of my shock. “Fire Talkin right now, and I will demand a hearing. That’s the law. We’re going to hold the Feds to it.”400

  From my shocked consciousness, I heard Talkin start to speak, kind of apologetic, kind of whining.

  “Well, see, there’s going to be a problem having a competency hearing. You know? See O’Callaghan (the prosecutor) wants her to go for a psych evaluation. It’s not really a hospital. It’s not a prison. Yeah, I guess it’s a prison. No, not really.”

  “She just has to go there for four months. They’ll decide whether she’s competent to stand trial. Then we can decide what to do next. If she’s not competent, they’ll probably just drop the charges. It’s just for four months—” Talkin whined.401

  Clearly, he’d known all along what the Justice Department was going to hit us with.

  My jaw was suspended open. We had just gone from John Grisham straight to Franz Kafka.

  “Four months?” Ted was appalled. “Are you serious? We don’t agree to that! We don’t care what the Prosecutor wants. That’s not a deal that Susan wants to accept. Do you, Susan!?”

  I shook my head, aghast.

  “I have researched this law, Mr. Talkin. There’s a fail safe that protects her from incarceration until there’s a hearing. We intend to use it to challenge these reports.”402

  Uncle Ted was ferocious. Even in an ambush, he stayed on point.

  “I can see holes all the way through these evaluations. I can straighten out some of this when I speak to the Judge this afternoon. We’ll address the rest of it at the hearing.”

  I learned that day that Ted Lindauer is a damn fine attorney, who does not crack under pressure. Throw him a poisoned brief, if you will. He will fight for his clients to the death. He was immediately ready and repositioning himself to thwart any unexpected challenge. It was very impressive that afternoon. Trust me.

  Ted turned back to me, fierce.

  “Fire him, Susan! Do it now!” He pleaded with me, deadly earnest.

  I could only nod. I couldn’t even speak. I felt numb and disoriented, in a state of horror.

  My emotional shock was about to take a deep turn for the worst.

  Bowing out of the room, Talkin returned moments later with Judge Mukasey’s senior law clerk. She had a message for us.403

  She spoke crisp and staccato, as if addressing a full court room, instead of speaking to us privately in the jury room.

  “We understand that you’re thinking of replacing Mr. Talkin, so Ms. Lindauer can demand a hearing. Judge Mukasey is aware of this. We want to make clear that if Ms. Lindauer moves to do that today, she will be seized immediately and taken to prison. As of today, she will forfeit her bail permanently— until the end of the case.”

  “If she agrees to forego the hearing until after completing a four month psychiatric evaluation in prison, she will be allowed THREE days to get her affairs in order before surrendering to prison on MONDAY MORNING.”

  It was now Thursday at about 4 pm.

  On the jury room wall, “EXTREME PREJUDICE” was scrawled in blood graffiti behind Judge Mukasey’s clerk.

  Can anyone imagine such a nightmare! There I was, falsely condemned in the Drob evaluation, which wildly impugned the strength and integrity of my witnesses. The Kleinman report proclaimed me incompetent, on the basis of declaring my innocence. And now I was denied my fundamental rights to a simple pre-trial evidentiary hearing, just in case, maybe, I was telling the truth.

  Instead, I would go straight to prison without a guilty plea or any sort of hearing. Andy Card and Colin Powell would be spared the embarrassment of facing me in open Court. Republicans on Capitol Hill would be free to continue spinning wild and inventive stories about 9/11 and Pre-War Intelligence without threat of public exposure. They could accelerate boasts about their outstanding leadership performance on national security! I especially loved their patriotic outbursts of devotion to Assets like me on CNN and the Fox News Channel.

  Campaign season thrilled my heart! Presidential Debates were especially fun, listening to John McCain!

  My story shattered those myths irrevocably! The Democrats were just as bad about reinventing the truth. But only the Republicans imprisoned Assets to stop us from exposing leadership fraud and voter deceptions. My co-defendants— both Assets like me— spent 18 months in prison before getting deported. And now I was declared “incompetent” and thrown in prison without a trial, too!

  If you ask me, they exhibited a form of “group psychosis.”

  Politicians hated the reality of Iraq. They couldn’t admit it was “delusional” to pretend their War policy was successful. I must be “delusional” for calling it a disaster.

  Obviously my thinking had to be corrected— not theirs.

  Psychiatry was a farce. Seriously, if I’m incompetent, it’s time to shut down the entire Court system. We probably need to shut down the Intelligence Community as well!

  Stunned and disoriented, Uncle Ted and I shuffled into Court to face Judge Mukasey. The room was packed with U.S. Marshals. Ted whispered he’d never seen so many marshals in one courtroom at a time, not for the most violent criminal offenders.404

  We were slightly reassured when Judge Mukasey appeared dubious of the evaluations. He assured us that he did not automatically give credence to what psychiatrists said about any defendant. (I tell you, my Judge was incredibly smart!)

  Judge Mukasey said something to the effect of, “just because they’ve said these things about Ms. Lindauer, doesn’
t make it true. But I am willing to allow you to pursue it, Mr. Talkin.”

  In exchange for my cooperation, he relented slightly on the timing. If I would agree to a voluntary surrender, he would give me 10 days to get my affairs in order – not three days, as the Clerk told us.

  Ten days.405

  Ted Lindauer nodded that I should stay on the Judge’s positive side as long as possible. It might not last very long.

  Really though, I had no choice. I had a mortgage and pets. It would be a lot to lose if I couldn’t work out a support strategy for coping. My household was not prepared for a prison surrender of all things. I joked with friends that it’s a good thing I’m capable of running my own affairs. Otherwise I could never have pulled everything together on such short notice.

  It could hardly be termed “consensual,” however. I adamantly refused to forfeit my rights to a trial or hearing. Judge Mukasey was very much aware of that.

  Still I gasped, more deeply shocked than moments before, when O’Callaghan stood up to announce where the Bureau of Prisons was sending me.

  My prison psych evaluation would be handled at Carswell Prison—inside Carswell Air Force Base outside of Fort Worth, Texas.

  Not only would I be denied a trial— to punish me for believing in my innocence—I would be locked up in prison on a Texas military base, as an accused “Iraqi Agent” to determine if I “could become competent in the future.”

  Talkin put up no objections to this de facto plea bargain—which he cut on my behalf, without my knowledge and over my strongest objections.

  As for my statutory rights to a competency hearing, I could still have it— after I completed my prison sentence.406

  To be fair, a Judge who regularly sentences defendants to five, ten, twenty years in federal prison looks on four months as a slap on the wrist. And honestly, it is. It’s the best sentence any defendant could hope for in the federal system. The women I met at Carswell shook their heads in envy of my promised 4 month discharge. From the Judge’s perspective, this might have been sensible. Afterwards, the case could go away. If unpleasant for me, it would be short-lived. And it would get us out of his courtroom.

 

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