The Hunt for KSM Read online

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  To Mil and to Michael

  PREFACE

  Throughout the modern age of terror, Khalid Sheikh Mohammed has had the eerie ability to be at its center yet glimpsed only in the margins. He’s been the ghost of our times.

  In New York in 1993, he was nothing but a name at the other end of a modest contribution to a bomb maker’s bank account. In Manila in 1994, he was again little more than a name, this time in a fax file buried in a laptop computer. In Qatar, he was the terror plotter who got away. In the months leading up to 9/11, he became an increasingly worrisome presence in the data raked into the nation’s intelligence trough. He took on different names, different histories. None of it connected. None of it brought him out into the light. As time went on, he remained on the outside edge of anybody’s ability to know quite who he was.

  The art of investigation is in part the art of seeing, of finding a place to stand so that you can see. To see a ghost presents a special kind of problem. The American intelligence apparatus, under the right conditions and armed with the right information, can perform stunts Hollywood would be hard-pressed to imagine. It can zero in on a single man standing in front of a single cave in the farthest reaches of the Hindu Kush; it can extract a conversation from the back bedroom of a fourth-floor walk-up in old, crumbling Cairo. It is a wondrous thing. Still, it is not magic; it needs a place to start, a place to stand. For six full months following the September 11 attacks on New York and Washington, half a year after four hijacked airliners had claimed nearly three thousand victims, the system had not yet found that point. The full and sustained efforts of the mighty American intelligence-gathering machine had yet to yield enough information to produce a single living man who was in any fundamental way responsible for the attacks.

  It wasn’t that the` assumed perpetrators were unknown. The machine had identified a fairly long list of suspects. In fact, within minutes of the moment, 9:03:02 EDT, to be precise, when Marwan al-Shehhi, an anonymous young son of an Emirati prayer caller, plowed United 175 high into the World Trade Center’s South Tower—the moment, that is, when it seemed certain the airline crashes on that sparkling lower Manhattan morning defied coincidence and almost certainly were not accidents—people in positions of power correctly suspected who was behind the assault: Osama bin Laden and his Al Qaeda organization.

  Six months later, a war had been launched, a government toppled, and victory all but proclaimed. Yet the net remained empty of big fish. This was not for lack of clues or want of trying. An army had been unleashed. Agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation chased tens of thousands of dead-end leads from coast to coast. The Central Intelligence Agency scoured the farthest reaches of the globe. And in the even darker reaches of space, the invisible web of satellites operated by the National Security Agency, National Reconnaissance Office, and the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency caught and sifted billions of bits of data, telephone conversations, Internet chat, and e-mail, and captured thousands of images. Other friendly organizations spanning the planet churned out their own steady storms of data. No, there was no shortage of information. There was too much—a blizzard of it, a whiteout so complete investigators routinely lost their way within it.

  The nation’s leaders and its security agents were beside themselves in their ignorance. One investigator described it as overpowering: “The amount of intel that was coming through was immense, and it was raw intel. We’d been used to looking at the processed stuff. We’d get an overnight [cable] about a bomb plot at six a.m. from NSA, and then by eight a.m. it’d be processed and it’d be nothing. You were overwhelmed by it.”1 Everyone was petrified of the next attack, which they knew in their bones was imminent. They vowed to do whatever was necessary to stop it, but they really didn’t know as much as they thought they did about who had produced the first assault. Al Qaeda, yes, about that all doubt had been obliterated. Bin Laden publicly crowed about his triumph. Between bin Laden at the top and the dead foot soldiers—the hijackers themselves—at the bottom, however, was a void.

  We learned about the man who filled that void, Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, not long past the day that many 9/11 investigators had first learned themselves. There was an invitation from a source to attend the retirement dinner of an agent from the FBI’s vaunted I-49 international terrorism squad in New York, which had spent the past eight years tracking Mohammed. The dinner adjourned to a raucous bar, where FBI, police, and firefighters had been gathering in the months since 9/11—to circle the wagons, to commiserate about setbacks, and to celebrate small victories. As the graybeards of the New York field office drank and laughed and toasted the newly liberated retiree, the doors of the bar swung open and in swaggered a group of about a dozen much younger agents. It was the PENTTBOM squad, the mostly inexperienced agents who had been given the daunting task of conducting the actual criminal investigation into the attacks on New York and Washington. There was an agreement between journalist and agents not to discuss the investigation that night. But a few hours of drinks later, an agent was asked for any crumb of information he could provide. A tip. A direction to go in. Maybe even a name. The agent thought about it for a minute, looked around to ensure that he was not being overheard, and said in a stage whisper, “Khalid Sheikh Mohammed.”

  In the ten years since, we followed those agents as they attempted to follow Mohammed. We soon learned that tracking the story of a ghost is not a great deal different from tracking the ghost himself. Khalid Sheikh Mohammed was the enigmatic empty center of every story he was in, always hidden behind the curtains, a wizard in his Oz.

  Bringing KSM into focus—at least enough to learn who he was—took investigators years. Finding him took more time yet, and even after he had finally been run to ground he remained hidden. This time, his hiding places were furnished by the U.S. government. At the time of publication, KSM will have been in American custody for nine years, and still his story—and that of his pursuers—remains untold. There is a good chance his full story will never be told in an official venue. For reasons that perplex even its best friends, the United States has kept Mohammed in the shadows of its secret prisons for so long it seems likely he can now never be fully exposed to the light for fear of what he might say about what went on in the darkness. In the meantime, as myths tend to do when the truth is hidden, his legend has grown to mountainous heights and the sometimes heroic stories of those who pursued him have been banished.

  We have attempted here to lure the ghost on stage, to dress him in his natural clothing, and to place him and those who fought him nearer the center of the events of the last two decades, many of which he set in motion.

  The Hunters and the Hunted

  THE HUNTERS

  Matthew Besheer Former New York and New Jersey Port Authority detective and member of New York Joint Terrorism Task Force; currently police officer, Punta Gorda, Florida

  Michael Garcia Former assistant U.S. attorney, Southern District of New York; currently in private practice in New York City

  Stephen Gaudin FBI special agent; currently FBI legal attaché, overseas

  Robert Grenier CIA station chief, Islamabad, Pakistan; currently private secur
ity consultant, Washington, D.C.

  Jennifer Keenan Former FBI assistant legal attaché, Islamabad, Pakistan; currently assistant special agent in charge for national security, Minneapolis, Minnesota field office

  John Kiriakou Former CIA agent; currently private security consultant, Washington, D.C.

  John O’Neill Former head of counterterrorism, FBI; killed at World Trade Center on 9/11

  Francis J. “Frank” Pellegrino FBI special agent; KSM case officer, New York City

  Michael Scheuer Former head of Alec Station, CIA; currently a writer living in Virginia

  Dieter Snell Former assistant U.S. attorney, currently in private practice in New York City

  Ali Soufan Former FBI special agent; currently private security consultant, New York City

  Mary Jo White Former U.S. attorney, Southern District of New York; currently in private practice in New York City

  THE HUNTED

  Ali Abdul Aziz Ali (Ammar al-Baluchi) KSM nephew, helped arrange financing for hijackers; Guantánamo prisoner

  Mohamad Farik Amin Senior member of Al Qaeda; currently imprisoned at Guantánamo

  Ramzi bin al-Shibh (Omar) Yemeni member of the Hamburg cell; volunteered as 9/11 pilot; never able to receive visa to enter U.S.; became KSM’s contact to the hijackers; currently imprisoned at Guantánamo

  Walid bin Attash (Khallad) Veteran Yemeni Al Qaeda operative, nominated by Osama bin Laden to take part in 9/11 attacks; unable to participate due to difficulty obtaining visa; currently in Guantánamo

  Iyman Faris Pakistani American truck driver; KSM recruited to blow up bridges, other targets in U.S.; imprisoned in U.S.

  Christian Ganczarski German Al Qaeda recruit; helped KSM coordinate Djerba synagogue bombing; imprisoned in France

  Mohammed Amin al-Ghafari Associate of Mohammed Jamal Khalifa; active in Philippine charity organizations; managing director of Konsojaya shell company used by Manila conspirators; currently living in Australia

  Rusman “Gun Gun” Gunawan Brother of Jemaah Islamiyah leader Hambali; convicted of facilitating and aiding terrorism; currently imprisoned in Indonesia

  Mustafa al-Hawsawi 9/11 hijacker facilitator and Al Qaeda accountant; captured with KSM; currently imprisoned at Guantánamo

  Nawaf al-Hazmi Nominated by bin Laden as 9/11 hijacker; deceased

  Riduan Isamuddin, aka Hambali Indonesian who organized and led Jemaah Islamiyah, Al Qaeda’s Southeast Asian affiliate. Longtime ally of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed.

  Mohammed Mansour Jabarah Young Kuwaiti Canadian Al Qaeda recruit, sent by KSM to Southeast Asia to distribute money and plot attacks; imprisoned in U.S.

  Abdul Karim Abdul Karim (Musaad Aruchi) Abdul Basit’s brother; went to university in U.S. with KSM, assisted him in Pakistan after 9/11; arrested in Pakistan in 2004; whereabouts unknown

  Mohammed Jamal Khalifa Saudi businessman, brother-in-law of Osama bin Laden; led NGOs and financed radical Islamists in Southeast Asia; associate of Abdul Basit, Wali Khan; deceased

  Muhammad Naeem Noor Khan (Abu Talha al-Pakistani) Pakistani computer engineer; KSM associate alleged to have helped plan attacks in London; arrested 2004, released from prison in Pakistan in 2007, no further information

  Wali Khan Amin Shah Afghan Manila Air plot coconspirator, bin Laden associate from the anti-Soviet jihad; currently imprisoned in U.S.

  Konsojaya Trading Company Shell company in Malaysia with ties to KSM and numerous associates; supported terrorist plots in Southeast Asia, in particular the Manila Air plot

  Khalid al-Mihdhar Saudi Al Qaeda operative nominated to 9/11 plot by bin Laden; hijacker; deceased

  Khalid Sheikh Mohammed (Mukhtar, KSM) Kuwaiti citizen of Pakistani descent; mastermind of 9/11 and numerous other plots; captured in Pakistan in March of 2003; currently imprisoned at Guantánamo

  Ibrahim Muneer (Abdul Majid) Saudi businessman, associate of Abdul Basit in Manila; whereabouts unknown

  Abdul Hakim Murad Kuwaiti national of Pakistani descent; childhood friend of Abdul Basit; Manila Air coconspirator; currently imprisoned in U.S.

  Saifullah Paracha Pakistani businessman, associate of KSM; accused of holding Al Qaeda funds; currently imprisoned at Guantánamo

  Uzair Paracha Saifullah Paracha’s son, assisted KSM sleeper agent in U.S.; currently imprisoned in U.S.

  Adil Qadoos Brother of the man in whose house KSM was captured; Pakistani army major arrested in Pakistan in 2003 on suspicion of ties to KSM; court-martialed, currently imprisoned in Pakistan

  Ahmed Qadoos Resident of the house where KSM was captured in 2003; arrested with KSM by Pakistani authorities; released within the week

  Mohammed al-Qahtani Saudi Al Qaeda member, sent to U.S. by KSM as the twentieth hijacker; never cleared customs, sent back to the Mideast; captured after 9/11; imprisoned in Guantánamo

  Jack Roche British-born Al Qaeda recruit from Australia; confessed to plotting attacks in Australia; released from prison in 2007, currently lives in Australia

  Mohammed Amein al-Sanani Mohammed Jamal Khalifa associate in Philippines in 1994, member of board of Konsojaya shell company, Wali Khan associate; currently living in Australia

  Adnan el-Shukrijumah Saudi-born Florida resident sent to U.S. by KSM as sleeper agent to await further instructions; tasked with casing potential targets, including Wall Street and the Panama Canal; whereabouts unknown

  Aafia Siddiqui American-educated Pakistani woman with science degrees from Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Brandeis University; suspected KSM associate; convicted of assault against American interrogators; currently in prison in U.S.

  Abdullah bin Khalid al-Thani Qatari minister of the interior, former minister of religious affairs; member of Qatari royal family; aided jihadis, including KSM, who was given an engineering position in the Qatari Ministry of Electricity and Water

  Abu Bara al-Yemeni (Abu Bara al-Taiz) Yemeni nominated by Osama bin Laden to take part in 9/11 attacks; unable to participate due to difficulty obtaining visa; currently in Guantánamo

  A note on names: Because Arabic contains few vowels, transliteration of names is complex and often variable. We have tried to use the most common spellings. In the case of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed we have used the spelling he uses.

  CHAPTER 1

  Mukhtar

  Faisalabad, Pakistan, March 2002

  In the late autumn of 2001, just as the first fresh snows fell, the American military with its NATO and Afghan allies thundered into Al Qaeda’s Afghanistan redoubts; the foot soldiers of the terror organization, when still alive and able, largely fled rather than stand and fight. “It wasn’t a highly sophisticated effort,” said one American intelligence operative.1 “They were running around like roaches with the lights on, [having] totally miscalculated in terms of how the U.S. would respond.” Some had gone into hiding in the southeastern highlands of Afghanistan, but most had fled overland to Pakistan, hiking through the mountain passes that connect the two countries or taking the roundabout route through Iran. Many traveled on beyond Pakistan. Others stayed.

  Pakistan was hardly foreign territory to the Al Qaeda fighters. Some had come from there originally; some had been based there during the long war against the Soviet Union; still others had been educated and trained there. Almost all had transited through Pakistan more than once. They knew the place. Something more than familiarity, too, made Pakistan a likely refuge. The country was woven through with a network of jihadi fighters, organizations, and sympathizers. Militant groups had been a feature of Pakistani life almost since the beginning of the nation. The original and persistent reason for their existence had been to oppose India’s efforts to control Kashmir, which Pakistan claimed as its own. The Pakistani government, particularly its principal spy organization, the infamous Inter-Services Intelligence directorate, the ISI, had blessed and supported the jihad movements in this role, legitimizing them. In many cases, ISI had created, trained, and equipped them.

  Additionally, since the 1980s, there ha
d been a Sunni-Shiite proxy war within Pakistan funded on opposing sides by Arab states in the Gulf, mainly Saudi Arabia, and Iran. An American diplomat in the region at the time described that struggle as “the confrontation to see who was going to be the dominant force in the Muslim world.”2 The intermingling of the original Kashmiri jihadis, the Gulf-Iran sectarian recruits, the later-arriving fighters focused on Afghanistan, and finally Al Qaeda and the Taliban had resulted in an indecipherable—and volatile—mess. Authorities were no longer sure what anyone was fighting for, and sometimes, it seemed, neither were the jihadis. Lack of clear purpose, unfortunately, had done nothing to reduce the fervor or the deadly results. Pakistan for decades had been at war with itself.

  This underlayer of violent extremism was particularly strong in the Punjab, Pakistan’s rich central province, from which many of the early Kashmiri jihadis had been drawn. Faisalabad, a sprawling industrial and agricultural center of five million in the heart of the province, had been the home office of almost every significant sectarian jihadi group in the country at one time or another. So it wasn’t a great shock to intelligence operatives when they received word in mid-March of 2002 that the city might be harboring Al Qaeda fighters.

  NSA’s computers had collected a string of intercepts that led CIA analysts to believe that a group of jihadis had holed up in Punjab. An intercepted phone call indicated that one of the group might be a man known as Abu Zubaydah, who had long-standing and close ties to the terror group’s inner circle of leadership. The estimation of Zubaydah’s precise role within Al Qaeda had frequently changed over the previous decade and even then remained fuzzy to the Americans. They nonetheless viewed him as a major figure, one who would know important Al Qaeda secrets. And he would certainly know the most important one—where was the next attack going to be?

  The intercepts were inexact about precisely where Zubaydah and his cohorts were. John Kiriakou had arrived in Islamabad a month earlier as a TDYer, or temporary duty assignee, to help lead the CIA’s counterterrorism operations in the country. He’d been begging for an Afghanistan posting since September 11, and the Pakistan job came open as he was threatening to resign if not deployed immediately. He was a fluent Arabic speaker and that alone gave him real value, as did his time chasing terrorists in the Gulf and in Greece.