Thursday, November 29, 2012

North to Alaska Part 4: The Shot that Pierced the Alaska Pipeline

Located less than 200 miles from the Arctic Circle, our resident agency in Fairbanks is one of the FBI’s most remote offices—but its three investigators cover an expansive amount of territory and help safeguard some of the country’s most valuable infrastructure.
Within the office’s area of responsibility is the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, an 800-mile engineering marvel that has carried billions of gallons of crude oil from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez since it began pumping in 1977.
“For as long and as exposed as the pipeline is, it is definitely not a soft target on the ground or in the air,” said Special Agent Bruce Milne. That’s because the pipeline’s owner, Alyeska Pipeline Service Company, provides extensive security and maintains strong ties with local and federal law enforcement.

Special Agent Bruce Milne

FBI Agent and Dog Musher
Special Agent Bruce Milne has spent 25 years in the FBI, and most of that time has been in Fairbanks—Alaska’s second largest city with about 32,000 residents. “Inside the city limits it’s like any other small town,” he said, “but go 10 minutes out of town and it’s just about complete wilderness.”
Even though winter temperatures can plummet to 60-below zero and highway signs caution drivers to beware of moose, Milne is happy to be in Fairbanks because he has a passion for training and racing sled dogs.
Alaskans call it “mushing,” and Milne has done more than his share. In 2007, the Boston native competed in the famous Iditarod—known as “the last great race”—and he has also raced multiple times in the equally grueling Yukon Quest.
The Iditarod begins in Anchorage each year on the first day of March and ends more than 1,000 miles away in Nome. It is an extreme test of skill and endurance, pitting man and his dog team against the elements and the clock.
“Being known in dog mushing circles has helped me as an FBI agent,” Milne said. “The residents here appreciate the fact that I am a member of their community, not just somebody who will leave after a few years.”

“We all take the security of the pipeline very seriously,” said Milne, a 25-year FBI veteran who was drawn to Alaska in part because of his interest in dog sledding (see sidebar). “Our Joint Terrorism Task Force coordinates closely with Alyeska and Alaska State Troopers to protect the pipeline,” he added.
One case that stands out for Milne occurred in October 2001, when a resident of Livengood—a town of less than two dozen people about 50 miles north of Fairbanks—shot a hole in the pipeline with a high-powered rifle.
A bullet would not ordinarily breach the pipeline’s exterior, which is constructed of thick steel and lined inside with several inches of high-density insulation. But the single shot from Daniel Lewis’ rifle somehow did penetrate the pipeline, and oil began streaming out with tremendous force. “If you would have put your hand in front of the leak,” Milne said, “the pressure would have taken it off.”
Lewis, described later in court as a career criminal, had been released from jail only weeks before the shooting incident. He was detained by troopers after he and his brother were spotted near the spill.
Milne and his colleague, Special Agent Mark Terra, were called in to investigate. They recovered the rifle—the scope had blood on it where it had recoiled against Lewis’ face—made plaster foot casts at the crime scene, and began interviewing people who knew the Lewis brothers. “Alyeska security and local troopers did a tremendous amount of work on this case as well,” Milne said.
Meanwhile, oil spewed from the pipeline for days before engineers could stop it. More than 285,000 gallons of crude were spilled as a result of that small bullet hole and—according to press reports at the time—the cleanup took many months and cost $13 million.

Lewis was charged with a range of federal and state crimes, from weapons offenses to oil pollution, criminal mischief, and driving while intoxicated. In 2002 he received a 10-year federal sentence; the following year in state court, he was sentenced to 16 years in prison. His sentences are running concurrently.

Coming less than a month after the 9/11 terror attacks, the pipeline shooting served as a reminder that protecting the country—whether from terrorists or other criminals—requires constant vigilance. “Everyone here recognizes that the stakes are as high in Alaska as anywhere else,” Milne said. “That’s why we work so closely with our partners to maintain the highest level of security.”

North to Alaska Part 3: A Domestic Terrorist With a Deadly Plan

By the time he moved to Alaska in 2006, Paul Rockwood, Jr. was an ardent follower of the American-born radical cleric Anwar al-Awlaki, who he met at a Virginia mosque in late 2001.
Shortly after he settled with his family in the small fishing village of King Salmon to work for the National Weather Service, our agents in Anchorage were aware that Rockwood had begun compiling a list of targets in the U.S. military he might assassinate in the name of jihad.
“If you were wearing a U.S. military uniform,” said Special Agent Doug Klein, who worked the case from Anchorage, “as far as Rockwood was concerned, you were a target.”
A military veteran himself, Rockwood believed it was his religious duty to kill those who desecrated Islam. In 2009, he began sharing his deadly plans with an individual he thought held similar views. But that person was actually an undercover operative employed by our Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF) in Anchorage.
For a time, JTTF personnel wondered how determined Rockwood was about his plans. “But one day when he was with our undercover in Anchorage he identified the building of a cleared defense contractor and said, ‘This is the kind of building I want to blow up,’ ” Klein said. “That’s when we knew he was a serious threat.”
Keeping track of Rockwood was difficult, however, because King Salmon is some 300 miles from Anchorage and only accessible by airplane. And with only a few hundred residents, outsiders would be immediately spotted, so attempts at surveillance were impractical. “We couldn’t use 90 percent of the traditional investigative techniques we use in the Lower 48,” Klein explained.
In addition, small, regional airlines in Alaska are not regulated by the Transportation Security Administration, so anyone can fly with weapons. On Rockwood’s frequent trips from King Salmon to Anchorage, Klein said, “he could have had a gun or a bomb and we never would have known.”
During those Anchorage visits, Rockwood met the undercover operative and discussed buying electronics and downloading schematics of cell phones to make bomb detonators. At one meeting, he said he was getting ready to relocate to the mainland and had plans to steal a cache of explosives in Boston—where he grew up—that would help him go operational.
By early 2010, Rockwood had formalized his hit list to include 15 specific targets—all outside Alaska—and he gave the list to his wife, Nadia, who was aware of his intentions.
Even with no overt acts of terrorism to charge him with, it was decided that for the sake of public safety, Rockwood and his wife could not be allowed to leave Alaska. In May 2010, JTTF agents questioned Rockwood and his wife as they attempted to fly out of Anchorage. Both denied any involvement with a hit list or terrorist plot.
The couple was charged with making false statements to the FBI in a domestic terrorism investigation, and in July, Rockwood was found guilty and sentenced to eight years in prison—the maximum sentence under the law. His wife was also found guilty and received five years of probation.
“We can never be sure if he would have acted,” Klein said, “but Rockwood was clearly a threat, not only to the individuals on his list but to the entire community.”

North to Alaska Part 2: An Explosive Situation in the Dead of Winter

The call came in to the Anchorage Field Office early on a Sunday morning in January 2010. An explosion had taken place at a Fairbanks residence, and a 21-year-old man had been seriously injured.
After consulting with local authorities on the scene, our weapons of mass destruction (WMD) coordinator and other FBI personnel were not sure if the explosion was related to a drug manufacturing operation or linked to a terrorism threat. But everyone understood that our assistance was required, because the house contained a variety of hazardous, unstable materials.
Members of our Evidence Response Team (ERT), the Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF), and others from the Anchorage office gathered their equipment and prepared to drive to Fairbanks—365 miles to the northin the middle of a violent winter storm.
“It was 58 degrees below zero, with high winds, blizzard conditions, and black ice on the highway,” said Special Agent Derek Espeland, the WMD coordinator who is also one of Anchorage’s two special agent bomb technicians.
Based on the description of materials in the house, agents initially thought the man was making methamphetamine—meth labs are an unfortunate reality in many rural communities. The victim, who walked to a nearby fire station despite the sub-zero temperature, was burned and bleeding. He claimed he was building a rocket when it blew up. Before he could be questioned further, he was flown to a burn unit in Seattle for treatment.
After a harrowing drive from Anchorage that took more than seven hours, FBI personnel arrived on scene along with bomb techs from the Air Force and local law enforcement. The meth lab theory was ruled out, “but then you almost had to conclude that the guy could be a terrorist,” Espeland said. “Everything we saw in the house we had seen being used by terrorists in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
As it turns out, the 21-year-old was neither a drug maker nor a terrorist. He was just fascinated with explosives and blowing things up. He had legally purchased all his ingredientsof course, our agents didn’t know that at the time. And because the house was a public safety threat, Espeland said, “we couldn’t just walk away.”
To neutralize the threat, it was decided to employ several render-safe techniques using specialized equipment. But that was easier said than done. Robots and other battery-powered equipment were inoperable in the nearly 60-below temperature because the batteries were frozen. Espeland’s evidence camera froze to his face when he tried to take a picture—inside the house. Vehicles had to be kept running for fear they would freeze if turned off, even with warming blankets and engine block heaters. An extension cord designed for extreme cold snapped and disintegrated.
“The cold was drier than anything I ever felt before,” said Vicky Grimes, an ERT member. “It almost took your breath away.”
A command post was established at the nearby fire station, and after a joint effort, the house was finally rendered safe. “Responding to this incident reinforced our understanding that we have to rely on our state and local partners for assistance, just as they rely on us,” said Special Agent Sandra Klein, Anchorage’s JTTF supervisor.
The 21-year-old recovered from his injuries, andsince he had committed no federal crimeswas not charged. “This was a public safety threat that could have been something far more serious,” Espeland said. “That’s why we responded, despite the conditions. That’s what we’re here for.”

Monday, November 19, 2012

Remembering Lou Peters Selfless Actions Brought Down Mob Boss

In 1977, things were going well for Lou Peters—he was living the American dream with his wife and three daughters, running a successful Cadillac dealership in Lodi, California. And in June of that year, he got an offer he couldn’t refuse.
A man approached Peters expressing interest in buying the dealership. When told it wasn’t for sale, the man was insistent, telling Peters to “name any price.” Finally, Peters said he would sell it for $2 million—nearly twice what the business was worth. The man accepted—then told Peters that the buyer was none other than Joseph Bonnano, Sr., head of the Bonnano organized crime family, who wanted the dealership to launder the family’s illegal funds.
Initially taken aback upon learning of mafia involvement, Peters eventually agreed to the sale, recounting, “I didn’t understand why these people wanted to come into our county. And I wanted to find out.” He then went to a local police chief and told him what had happened. When the chief asked what he was going to do next, Peters replied, “Well, I’m going to the FBI.”
And to the FBI he went, telling all. The FBI saw an opportunity to take down Bonnano and asked Peters for help. He was on board. “I felt it was the right thing to do, and I just did it,” he said.
Over the next nearly two years, Peters played the part of a corrupt businessman, gaining remarkable access to the Bonnano family and even becoming a close companion of Joseph Bonnano, Sr. To gain his confidence, Peters recalled saying something to “the old man” along the lines of, “Well, this should really bring me into the family”—to which Bonnano replied, “Lou, you’re already in the family.”
Through it all, Peters never took his eye off the ball—gathering evidence, secretly recording conversations, and debriefing agents on what he had learned. And his efforts weren’t without personal sacrifice…besides the risk to his life, he had to obtain a (temporary) legal separation from his wife not only to protect his family but also to have a credible reason to move out of his house—and into an apartment that was being monitored by the FBI.
In the end, Peters got what we needed. When he told Bonnano—during a recorded call—that he had been subpoenaed to testify before a grand jury regarding his dealings with the family, the old man directed him to destroy any records that could be linked back to him and his associates. Peters took the tape to the FBI agent on the case. While listening to it, the agent jumped up and said, “You got him!”
Thanks to Lou Peters, Joseph Bonnano, Sr. was found guilty of obstructing justice and sentenced to five years in prison—the first felony conviction in the mob boss’ long life of crime.
To show its appreciation, in October 1980 the FBI presented Peters with an award for his selfless and valiant actions…an award that has been granted annually for the past 30 years as the Louis E. Peters Memorial Service Award, bestowed upon the citizen who best exemplifies the standards set by Peters in providing service to the FBI and the nation.
Shortly before his death in 1981, Peters said, “I was very proud of what I did for my country.” The country is very proud of him, too. Thanks, Lou Peters.


A Byte Out of History Murder and the Dixie Mafia

Newspaper clips

This month marks the 25th anniversary of the murder of Judge Vincent Sherry and his wife, Margaret, whose deaths at the hands of the so-called Dixie Mafia exposed the lawlessness and corruption that had overtaken Mississippi’s Gulf Coast in the 1980s.
“It was out of control,” said retired Special Agent Keith Bell, referring to the level of corruption in Biloxi and Harrison County—so much so that in 1983 federal authorities would designate the entire Harrison County Sheriff’s Office as a criminal enterprise. Special Agent Royce Hignight initiated the investigation of the sheriff and was soon joined by Bell.

The ‘Lonely Hearts’ Scam
Dixie Mafia inmates at the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola were behind a scam that brought in hundreds of thousands of dollars. Ringleader Kirksey McCord Nix—a convicted murderer serving a life sentence without parole—believed that if he raised enough money he could buy his way out of jail.
Here’s how the scam worked: Inmates paid guards to use prison telephones. Then they placed bogus ads in homosexual publications claiming they were gay and looking for a new partner to move in with. The men who replied to the return post office box address got additional correspondence and racy pictures. But there was a catch—the scammers told their victims a variety of lies about why they needed money before they could leave where they were.
“A lot of money came flowing in,” said retired Special Agent Keith Bell. “There were hundreds of victims.” Men from all walks of life—professors, mail carriers, politicians—fell victim to the scam. “One guy in Kansas mortgaged his house and sent $30,000 to the scammers over a period of months,” Bell recalled.
To add insult to injury, some of the inmates writing letters eventually confessed the scam to their victims—and then extorted even more money by threatening to “out” the men if their demands were not met.

“They were doing anything and everything illegal down here,” said Bell, who grew up on the Gulf Coast. “For money, the sheriff and officers loyal to him would release prisoners from the county jail, safeguard drug shipments, and hide fugitives. Anything you can think of, they were involved in.”
Bell is quick to point out that there were plenty of honest officers on the force, and some would later help the FBI put an end to the culture of corruption in Biloxi. But for a long time, Sheriff Leroy Hobbs and his Dixie Mafia associates held sway.
The Dixie Mafia had no ties to La Cosa Nostra. They were a loose confederation of thugs and crooks who conducted their criminal activity in the Southeastern United States. When word got out that Biloxi—with its history of strip clubs and illicit gambling—was a safe haven, the criminals settled in.
At the same time, members of the organization incarcerated at the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola were running a “lonely hearts” extortion scam with associates on the street. The scam (see sidebar) targeted homosexuals and brought in hundreds of thousands of dollars—money they entrusted to their lawyer, Pete Halat.
But Halat, who would later become mayor of Biloxi, spent the money. When it came time to hand it over to the crooks, he said the cash had been taken by his former law partner, Vincent Sherry. So the mob ordered a hit on Sherry, a sitting state circuit judge who had no direct ties to the criminals. On September 14, 1987, Sherry and his wife were murdered in their home.
Map of Biloxi, Mississippi“Gulf Coast residents were shocked by the murders,” Bell said. Local authorities worked the case unsuccessfully for two years. The FBI opened an investigation in 1989, and Bell was assisted in the investigation by Capt. Randy Cook of the revamped sheriff’s office—Leroy Hobbs was convicted of racketeering in 1984 and sentenced to 20 years in prison.
The federal investigation into the Sherry murders lasted eight years. In the final trial in 1997, Pete Halat was sentenced to 18 years in prison. Kirksey McCord Nix—the Dixie Mafia kingpin at Angola who ordered the hits—as well as the hit man who killed the Sherrys each received life sentences.
As a result of the cases, Bell said, “Gulf Coast citizens started demanding more professional law enforcement and better government.” Bell—who wanted to be an FBI agent since he first watched The FBI television series as a child—added, “It meant a lot to me to return to my home and do something about the corruption that had worked its way into government and law enforcement there.” He added, “The majority of citizens realized that if the FBI had not stepped in, the lawlessness and corruption would likely have continued unabated.”

Living a Lie Identity Theft That Lasted Decades

When Florida Highway Patrol Trooper Richard Blanco—a member of the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF) in Jacksonville—interviewed an individual suspected of driver’s license fraud in 2011, he wasn’t initially sure if the man was the victim or the perpetrator of identity theft.
That’s because the man—now imprisoned and officially known as John Doe—had a stack of government-issued identification acquired during the 22 years he had been using a living victim’s identity. That included a passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, Social Security card, and identification allowing him unescorted access to a port and military installation.
“He was extremely convincing that he was the victim,” said Blanco, a veteran trooper with more than 30 years on the force. “When you have 20 forms of identification and it’s in your possession,” Blanco explained, “it’s hard to not believe you are the person you say you are.”
But John Doe was indeed an imposter, and while he was living under another man’s name, the real victim was living a nightmare. It all started in 1989 when the victim’s car was broken into and his wallet was stolen. His identity had been compromised.
John Doe began using the victim’s name, even when he went to prison for aggravated battery. As a result, Blanco said, “if you run John Doe’s fingerprints, even today, they will come back with the victim’s name.”
When the victim, a Miami resident, applied to become a corrections officer, he had to explain why his records showed a felony conviction. He urged officials to compare his fingerprints to those of John Doe’s. When the victim applied for a passport, he was denied because the passport office claimed he already had one—the one that John Doe had applied for and received.
When Blanco was able to talk with the real victim, he heard two decades worth of frustration. The victim had filed a police report years before, but John Doe had never been caught or stopped. Blanco remembers the victim telling him, “This guy has been living my identity. He’s gotten my license suspended and he’s had kids in my name.”
When Blanco realized that he was dealing with a massive and long-running case of identity fraud, John Doe was arrested. The JTTF opened an investigation, and John Doe was eventually indicted federally on numerous counts of aggravated identity theft and fraud.
JTTF investigators had to rule out any threat to national security, because John Doe had access to the Mayport Naval Station as well as JaxPort, the Jacksonville Port Authority. Although he was just working at those locations, Special Agent Paxton Stelly, who supervises Jacksonville’s JTTF, pointed out that John Doe had passed the background checks required to gain access there. “He appears to have manipulated the system with ease,” Stelly said.
Last month a jury convicted John Doe—who continues to insist he is the real victim in the case—and sentenced him to 10 years in prison. Despite DNA testing and a thorough investigation, his real identity remains a mystery.
“It will continue to be a mystery unless he makes an admission to us,” Blanco said, adding, “I don’t know what he’s going to do when he gets out of prison, because the man doesn’t have an identity.”

North to Alaska Part 1: Smallest FBI Office Takes on Big Job

The FBI recently investigated a white powder letter incident in Alaska with the help of a partner law enforcement agency. “It took our partners two days to get to the place where the white powder letter was,” said Mary Frances Rook, special agent in charge of our Anchorage Field Office, “because they had to take a ferry and a plane and an all-terrain vehicle to get to the school where the letter had been sent.”
Welcome to the Anchorage Divisionthe FBI’s smallest field officewhose agents are responsible for covering the most territory of any office in the Bureau. That’s an area of more than 600,000 square miles, twice the size of Texas and packed with natural beauty and hard-to-reach places.

Anchorage

An Opportunity for New Agents
Of the FBI’s 56 field offices, Anchorage has the fewest personnel—but that turns out to be an opportunity for new agents assigned there fresh out of the FBI Academy.
“It’s a huge benefit for a first-office agent to come to a place like Anchorage because you get to do so many things,” said Special Agent in Charge Mary Frances Rook. “You aren’t pigeonholed here. Some of our biggest cases have been made by first-office agents. That’s not an experience you are going to find in a larger office because those cases usually go to the more senior agents,” she explained. “Here everybody has the opportunity to develop a case and run with it and be successful.”
Rick Sutherland, a former North Carolina police officer, joined the FBI in 2009 and his first office was Fairbanks, in our three-man resident agency. Shortly after his arrival, he was assigned a domestic terrorism case that recently ended with the subject’s lengthy trial and conviction. “Getting this case and this kind of experience so early in my FBI career was a great opportunity,” Sutherland said, “and it might not have happened had I been sent to a large office.”

Although the Anchorage Division investigates the same types of violent crime, public corruption, and national security matters as FBI offices in the Lower 48, “there is so much that is different here,” said Rook—and she’s not just referring to the bears and moose occasionally spotted on downtown Anchorage streets.
“If you’re in Anchorage, there are roads to Fairbanks and to the Kenai Peninsula, but other than that there are no roads,” Rook said. Getting to remote villages and towns requires a plane or a boat. Combine the geographical difficulties with extreme weather and one begins to understand how the 49th state can pose considerable challenges for the agents and support staff in Anchorage and our satellite locations in Fairbanks and Juneau.
Few FBI offices require snowmobiles to respond to crime scenes, but Anchorage keeps two on hand. The harsh Alaskan winters, where temperatures can plummet to more than 50 degrees below zero and the sun rises above the horizon for only a few hours each day, can make being outdoors seem almost otherworldly.
“It can be a challenging place to work,” Rook acknowledged. “But the flip side is that everybody knows it. So everybody works together. We work great with each other and with our local and federal law enforcement partners. Everybody’s got each other’s back, because you just can’t survive up here alone.”
Not surprisingly, it takes a certain kind of person to work for the FBI in Alaska. “The most successful Bureau people here are the ones who come with an idea that this is going to be a great adventure,” said Rook, whose assignment in Anchorage began in January 2011.
Special Agent Catherine Ruiz, who transferred to Anchorage with her husband last year from Chicago, agreed. “Every few days you will be driving home and you look up at the snowcapped mountains and say, ‘Wow, this is a beautiful place.’ ”
Bureau personnel who come to Alaska tend to be multi-talented as well. “We don’t have a lot of resources,” Rook said, “so everyone has to do a little bit of everything.” One of the office’s three pilots, for example, is also the polygraph examiner and a full-time counterintelligence agent. “That’s not unusual,” Rook noted.
“I originally thought I would come to Alaska for a few years,” said Special Agent Eric Gonzalez. That was 15 years ago. Gonzalez liked the place and the people—and so did his family. He added, “Most of the Bureau folks I know who worked here and left wished they would have stayed.”




Plane flying over Alaska


Help Us Catch a Terrorist U.S. Citizen Wanted for Supporting Al Qaeda

The FBI today announced a reward of up to $50,000 for information leading to the arrest of Ahmad Abousamra, a U.S. citizen from Massachusetts charged with traveling to Pakistan and Yemen to seek military training so he could kill American soldiers.
“Knowing that the public is the FBI’s best ally in finding fugitives, today we’re requesting your assistance to locate Abousamra,” said Richard DesLauriers, special agent in charge of our Boston office.

Listen

Abousamra is charged with conspiracy to provide material support or resources to al Qaeda. He was indicted in 2009 for taking multiple trips to Pakistan and Yemen in 2002 and 2004 to seek jihad training. He also traveled to Iraq with the hope of joining forces fighting against Americans overseas. Abousamra left the U.S. in 2006 and may be living in living in Aleppo, Syria with his wife, at least one daughter, and extended family.
Abousamra’s co-conspirator, Tarek Mehanna, was convicted of terrorism charges by a federal jury in December 2011 and sentenced last April to 17.5 years in prison.
“Both men were self-radicalized and used the Internet to educate themselves,” said Special Agent Heidi Williams, a member of our Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF) in Boston who has been working the case since 2006. “They came to it independently, but once they found each other, they encouraged each other’s beliefs,” Williams said, adding that both Abousamra and Mehanna were inspired by the 9/11 terror attacks. “They celebrated it,” she said.
Abousamra is of Syrian descent and has dual U.S. and Syrian citizenship. He is 31 years old, 5’11” tall, and at the time of his disappearance weighed about 170 pounds. He has dark brown hair and brown eyes. He is fluent in English and Arabic, has a college degree related to computer technology, and was previously employed at a telecommunications company. Abousamra last lived in the U.S. in a prosperous Boston suburb and has family members in the Detroit, Michigan area.
One of his distinguishing characteristics is his higher-pitched voice, which can be heard on our website.
Today’s announcement is part of a publicity campaign employing traditional and social media to seek the public’s assistance. We are using social media to reach an overseas audience—information about Abousamra such as photos and audio clips can be found on the website and our Facebook, You Tube, and Twitter pages.
“Combining the reach and power of multiple media platforms is a powerful way to inform the public about our search,” DesLauriers said. “We believe publicizing Abousamra’s photo and characteristics will lead to a tip about his whereabouts and, ultimately, to his arrest.”
Thomas Daly, a sergeant with the Lowell Police Department in Massachusetts and a task force officer on the Boston JTTF since 2002, said catching Abousamra “will close the chapter on this story. We had two people who were planning to harm U.S. soldiers overseas,” Daly said, referring to Abousamra and Mehanna. “These two were actively radicalizing others. We can only assume Abousamra is still on the same path and remains a threat to our soldiers overseas.”
We need your help. If you have any information regarding Ahmad Abousamra, please contact your local FBI office or the nearest American Embassy or Consulate. You can also submit a tip electronically on our website.




Abousamra poster