The Black Banners_ 9_11 and the War Against Al-Qaeda - Ali H. Soufan [217]
George wasn’t the only FBI agent who had bad experiences with Fred. I’d had my own with him in Jordan, of course, and saw him during the interrogations of al-Qaeda operatives Ramzi Binalshibh and [9 words redacted]. The 2004 CIA inspector general’s report by Helgerson also mentions mistakes Fred made.
“You cannot make that stuff up,” I told George. “Thank God we have someone like Matt here.”
Hamdan had a scowl on his face when we walked in; he glared at us as I began introducing myself. “This is my colleague George Crouch,” I continued. “We’re both from the FBI, and we’ve come to talk to you. You’ve been on our radar for a long time. I know your family. I know your position. I know the truth about who you are.”
“Good for you,” he sneered. “I have nothing to say to you. Everything I have said and will say is in my file. Go read it.”
“I have no interest in your file. I’m here for something different.”
“I don’t care. I don’t trust any of you. All of you are liars.”
“You haven’t dealt with me before, and I don’t know who said what to you, but tell me, what are the lies?”
“I was repeatedly promised that I could call my wife to check that she was okay, but the promise was never kept.”
“We’re different,” I told him, “but I won’t speak to you tonight because you’re clearly angry. So rest and we’ll speak tomorrow. In the meantime, pray and do istikhara”—a term referring to asking God for guidance—“because what I know about you, your family, and your role in al-Qaeda will really shock you.”
“How do you know things?” he asked, clearly curious.
“Let’s just say Abu Jandal and I became good friends.” He looked puzzled. “Maybe you don’t believe me?” He shook his head. “Well, maybe all of us are liars, but do you remember when Habib was born?” I went on to remind him of the story of Abu Jandal’s son’s birth, and of how proud he was that Habib had tasted dates from bin Laden’s mouth even before the infant tasted his own mother’s milk. Hamdan didn’t say anything but looked at me with his eyes wide open.
“Who else but a good friend would know this story?” I asked him. “We’ll meet tomorrow, my friend. Good night.”
“So, how did it go with Hamdan?” Matt asked as we walked into his office. We recounted the exchange.
“So he claims he’s been lied to, and that appears to be hindering his cooperation. Is that true?”
“Let me check,” Matt replied, and he pulled out the file. “Seems he’s telling the truth. He was promised a few times that he’d be given a phone call, but that didn’t happen.”
“How about we let him have the phone call?”
“What good will that do?”
“He’ll be less agitated and more likely to cooperate, for a start, and we can use that as leverage against him.”
“Sounds like a good idea, worth a try. Go do it. Here’s a satellite phone to use,” Matt said, handing us one of the agency’s phones.
Early the next morning George and I met Hamdan in an interrogation room. I instructed the guard to remove the shackles from Hamdan’s arms and legs.
“Before we start, I want to tell you something: I checked whether you were promised a phone call, and I found that it’s true. I am embarrassed that my colleagues didn’t keep their promise. George and I always keep our promises. Even though you may not believe me, and even though you know from our conversation last night that we know everything about you and what you’ve done for al-Qaeda, a promise is still a promise, so let’s go.”
“What?” Hamdan asked, looking unsure if he understood me.
“Don’t you want to make a phone call?” I asked. He nodded and started shaking.
We took him outside the cell to an area where phone service was available and gave him the phone to dial his wife. When she answered and he heard her voice, he started weeping. He told her briefly that he was okay, and asked how she and their children were doing. They spoke for a few minutes. We then ended