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Date: Tue, 14 Oct 2008 15:48:21 -0400
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From: "James M. Atkinson" <jm..._at_tscm.com>
Subject: Shining A Light On The NSA's 'Shadow Factory'
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http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95689436
Shining A Light On The NSA's 'Shadow Factory'
Fresh Air from WHYY, October 14, 2008 ·
Following the attacks of September 11, 2001, the
National Security Agency stepped up its efforts
to collect intelligence domestically by filtering
millions of phone conversations and e-mail
messages. In his new book, The Shadow Factory:
The Ultra-Secret NSA From 9/11 To The
Eavesdropping On America, journalist James
Bamford reveals that the ultra-secret agency has
half a million people on its watch lists.
Bamford has been writing about the inner workings
of the NSA since his first book, The Shadow
Factory: A Report On America's Most Secret
Agency, was published in 1982. He is also the
author of Body Of Secrets: Anatomy Of The
Ultra-Secret National Security Agency.
Excerpt: 'The Shadow Factory'
by James Bamford
The Shadow Factory: The Ultra-Secret NSA from
9/11 to the Eavesdropping on America
By James Bamford
Hardcover, 416 pages
List price: $27.95
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0385521324?ie=UTF8&tag=graniteisland-20&link_code=as3&camp=211189&creative=373489&creativeASIN=0385521324
Sanaa
It was late December and Yemen's capital of Sanaa
lay cool beneath the afternoon sun. A fine powder
of reddish sand, blown southward from the vast
Arabian Desert, coated the labyrinth of narrow
alleyways that snake throughout the city. On
crowded sidewalks, beneath high walls topped with
shards of broken glass, women in black chadors
paraded with men in drab suit coats and
red-and-white checkered scarves that hung loose
like long shawls. It is a city of -welloiled
Kalashnikovs and jewel-encrusted daggers known as
jambiyahs; a place where former comrades from the
once Marxist south sit on battered sidewalk
chairs chewing qat and puffing from hookahs with
wrinkled imams from the tribal north.
At the northwest edge of the city in Madbah, a
cluttered neighborhood of cinder-block homes and
yapping dogs, was a boxy, sand-swept house.
Across the street sat a vacant lot littered with
stones, bits of concrete, and tufts of greenish
weeds. Made of cement and surrounded by a black
iron fence, the house had a solid, fortresslike
appearance. On the flat roof were three chimneys,
one for each floor, and open balconies that were
wide and square, like bull pens at a rodeo; glass
arches topped the windows and doors.
It was the home of Ahmed -al-Hada, a middle-aged
Yemeni who had become friends with Osama bin
Laden while fighting alongside him against the
Russians in Afghanistan. Hada came from a violent
family tribe based for generations in Dhamar
Province, about sixty miles south of Sanaa. In a
valley of squat, mud-brick houses and green
terraced farms, the region was sandwiched between
two volcanic peaks in the Yemen Highlands. The
area had achieved some fame as a center for the
breeding of thoroughbred horses. It also gained fame for kidnappings.
A devoted follower of bin Laden, Hada offered to
turn his house into a secret operations center
for his friend in Afghanistan. While the rugged
Afghan landscape provided bin Laden with
security, it was too isolated and remote to
manage the day-to-day logistics for his growing
worldwide terrorist organization. His sole tool
of communication was a gray, battery-powered
$7,500 Compact-M satellite phone. About the size
of a laptop computer, it could transmit and
receive both voice phone calls and fax messages
from virtually anywhere in the world over the
Inmarsat satellite network. His phone number was
00-873-682505331; the 00 meant it was a satellite
call, 873 indicated the phone was in the Indian
Ocean area, and 682505331 was his personal number.
Bin Laden needed to set up a separate operations
center somewhere outside Afghanistan, somewhere
with access to regular telephone service and
close to major air links. He took Hada up on his
offer, and the house in Yemen quickly became the
epicenter of bin Laden's war against America, a
logistics base to coordinate his attacks, a
switchboard to pass on orders, and a safe house
where his field commanders could meet to discuss
and carry out operations. Between 1996 and 1998,
bin Laden and his top aides made a total of 221
calls to the ops center's phone number,
011-967-1-200-578, using the house to coordinate
the 1998 bombings of the U.S. embassies in East
Africa and to plan the attack of the USS Cole in the port of Aden in 2000.
Also living in the house was Hada's daughter,
Hoda, along with her husband, Khalid al-Mihdhar.
Standing 5'6" and weighing 142 pounds, Mihdhar
had an intelligent face, with a soft, unblemished
complexion and a neatly trimmed mustache. Wearing
glasses, he had the appearance of a young
university instructor. But it was war, not
tenure, that interested Mihdhar. He had been
training in secret for months to lead a massive
airborne terrorist attack against the U.S. Now he
was just waiting for the phone call to begin the operation.
Khalid al-Mihdhar began life atop Yemen's searing
sandscape on May 16, 1975. Shortly thereafter, he
and his family moved to the Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia. It was the beginning of the oil boom and
the Mihdhars, like thousands of others in the
poverty-racked country, hoped to take advantage
of the rivers of petrodollars then flowing into
the Kingdom. They settled in the holy city of
Mecca, Khalid's father was successful, and the family became Saudi citizens.
For centuries the Mihdhar tribe was prominent in
the remote Yemen provinces that merge invisibly
into Saudi Arabia across an endless expanse of
drifting sand dunes. Known as the Empty Quarter,
the provinces are a geographical twilight zone, a
void on the map where governments, borders, and
lines of demarcation have scarcely intruded.
Horizon to horizon, there are only the occasional
Bedouins who pass like a convoy of ships on a sea
of sand. In the city of Tarim is the al-Mihdhar
mosque, with its strikingly beautiful minaret
reaching more than seventeen stories into the
sky, the tallest such structure in southern
Arabia. It was built in honor of the
-fifteenthcentury religious leader
Omar-al-Mihdhar, the grand patriarch of the tribe.
When Mihdhar was growing up, one of his
neighborhood friends was Nawaf al-Hazmi, whose
father owned a supermarket and a building in the
Nawariya district in northwest Mecca and whose
older brother was a police chief in Jizan, a city
in southwest Saudi Arabia across the border from
Yemen. Darker, more muscular, and a year younger
than Khalid, he came from a prominent and
financially well-off family of nine sons. His
father, Muhammad Salem al-Hazmi, described both
Nawaf and his younger brother, Salem, as
"well-behaved, nice young men who have been
brought up in a family atmosphere free from any
social or psychological problems." Nevertheless,
Nawaf would later complain that his father once
cut him with a knife that left a long scar on his forearm.
Soon after turning eighteen, Hazmi packed a
duffel bag and left for Afghanistan to learn the
art of warfare. But by 1993 the war against the
Soviet occupiers was long over and Osama bin
Laden had returned to his contracting business in
Sudan. Undeterred, Hazmi called his family from
Peshawar, Pakistan, near the Afghan border, and
told them he was going to fight in Chechnya. Very
concerned, Muhammad al-Hazmi went to Peshawar to
bring his son home. "I went to Peshawar," he
recalled. "I found him there. He said he was
staying in Pakistan as a trader of frankincense
and we returned home together. I asked him to
help me in my commercial ventures, including
shops and hotels." Speaking of his sons, he
added, "In fact, I planned to open branches for
them and to find brides for them. But they did not stay for long."
Returning to Mecca with his father, Hazmi met
with a key al-Qaeda member and in 1996, bubbling
with enthusiasm, convinced Mihdhar to join him in
a new war, this one in Bosnia defending fellow
Muslims from attacks by the Serbs.
What drove Mihdhar, Hazmi, and thousands of
others was a burning need to defend Muslim lands
from the West, which had a long history, as they
saw it, of invading and occupying their
territory, killing and humiliating their
families, and supporting their corrupt rulers.
The victory in Afghanistan over the Soviets, a
superpower, was their first real win and gave
many Muslims across the region a sense of unity,
fueling an ideology that viewed their separate
countries as a single Muslim nationwhat they
called the "ulema." An occupation or invasion of
one Muslim state was therefore an aggression against all Muslim states.
Now with the taste of victory over Russia still
sweet in their mouths, adrenaline still pumping
through their veins, and a new sense of Muslim
nationalism, many were no longer willing to sit
and wait for the next encroachment on their
lands. The West had long waged war on Islam, they
believed; now it was Islam's time to defend
itself and fight back. The time had come to go on the offensive.
On August 23, 1996, Osama bin Laden issued his
call to action: "My Muslim Brothers of the
World," he said. "Your brothers in Palestine and
in the land of the two Holy Places [Saudi Arabia]
are calling upon your help and asking you to take
part in fighting against the enemyyour enemy and
their enemythe Americans and the Israelis. They
are asking you to do whatever you can, with your
own means and ability, to expel the enemy,
humiliated and defeated, out of the sanctities of Islam."
Turning his attention to the United States, he
said, "[We] hold you responsible for all of the
killings and evictions of the Muslims and the
violation of the sanctities, carried out by your
Zionist brothers [Israel] in Lebanon; you openly
supplied them with arms and finance [during
Israel's bloody Grapes of Wrath invasion]. More
than 600,000 Iraqi children have died due to lack
of food and medicine and as a result of the
unjustifiable aggression [the sanctions] imposed
on Iraq and its nation. The children of Iraq are
our children. You, the U.S.A., together with the
Saudi regime, are responsible for the shedding of
the blood of these innocent children."
The charges resonated with Mihdhar and Hazmi, and
in about 1997 Hazmi returned to Afghanistan,
formally swore his loyalty to bin Laden, and
fought against the Northern Alliance, possibly
with his brother, Salem. Mihdhar followed, and
swore his allegiance to the al-Qaeda leader in
1998. They would become the elite of al-Qaeda,
among the first seventeen to join from the
Arabian Peninsula. Bin Laden would call them "The
Founders." Early on, the al-Qaeda leader had
developed a special affection and trustalmost
father-son at timesfor Mihdhar. They shared a
common heritage, both sets of ancestors having
come from the remote, desolate Yemeni province of Hadramont.
In the spring of 1999, bin Laden and his
operations chief, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, worked
out a plan to bring their war to the doorstep of
the enemy. Using large commercial airliners, they
would in one swoop bring mass destruction to
America's financial, political, and military
centers: the World Trade Center, the White House,
and the Pentagon. During the meeting, bin Laden
told Khalid Shaikh that he wanted Mihdhar and
Hazmi to travel to the U.S., begin pilot
training, and lead the operation. The two were so
eager to participate, he said, that they had already obtained U.S. visas.
That fall, bin Laden began setting the air attack
operation in motion by sending Mihdhar and Hazmi
to an elite training course at his Mes Aynak
training facility. But Mihdhar may have been
having second thoughts about the U.S. plot. That
fall he learned that his wife, Hoda, was pregnant
with their first child, and he returned to Yemen
rather than continue on to specialized training
led by Khalid Shaikh. For Mihdhar, it was a
complex situation in a difficult time. His
father-in-law, whose house he shared, was one of
bin Laden's most loyal supporters and ran his
Yemen ops center. And he himself was one of bin
Laden's favorites and had sworn his life to him.
But all that was before the news of his future child.
Shortly after Hazmi completed Khalid Shaikh's
course, in late December 1999, Mihdhar was at the
ops center when he received the phone call he had
been waiting for. He and Hazmi were instructed to
leave in a few days for Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia,
where their final, fatal mission to the U.S.
would begin. Now Mihdhar had to make a decision.
At that moment, seven time zones and 7,282 miles
to the west, the phone call was captured and
recorded by America's big ear, the ultra-secret National Security Agency.
Intercept
Michael Vincent Hayden stood at the window of his
large corner office looking west through rimless
glasses with rectangular lenses. Balding, with
dark, graying hair cropped close on the sides, he
had a broad globelike forehead, cheeks that were
full and friendly, and a slight chin that quickly
disappeared into his neck. At fifty-six, he was
in good shapestood as straight as a plumb line
but carried a slight paunch that pressed tight
against the buttons of his starched, powder-blue
shirt. On each shoulder was a cloth epaulet with
three silver stars, the rank of an air force lieutenant general.
Unrecognizable to most Americans, the man at the
window was the nation's top electronic spy,
overseeing more analysts and operatives than
anyone else in the country and possibly the
planet. In addition to people, he controlled the
largest collection of eavesdropping tools the
world had ever known: constellations of
billion-dollar satellites that could hear
whispers on a cell phone from more than
twenty-two thousand miles in space; moonlike
listening posts around the globe with dozens of
giant white orbs containing satellite dishes
capable of pulling in tens of millions of phone
calls, e-mail messages, and faxes an hour; and,
to sort it all out, the largest collection of
supercomputers on earth. In addition, he
controlled the agency's own secret military
force, the little-known Central Security Service,
with its fleets of ships, submarines, and
aircraft that quietly vacuum the world for telltale voices and data.
The vast and mysterious city stretched out below
Hayden was the largest, most powerful, and most
intrusive eavesdropping machine ever created.
Made up of tens of thousands of people, more than
fifty buildings, dozens of receiving antennas,
and the planet's most powerful number-crunching
supercomputers, it had one overriding goal:
access. Access to billions of private hard-line,
cell, and wireless telephone conversations; text,
e-mail, and instant Internet messages; Web-page
histories, faxes, and computer hard drives.
Access to any signal or device that might contain
information in any form regardless of
protectionfirewalls, encryption, or passwords.
Never before in history had a single person
controlled so much secret power to pry into so many private lives.
The NSA was once a backwater agency whose
director had to fight to sit at the same table
with the CIA chief, but by the time Hayden
arrived it had become the largest, most
expensive, and most technologically advanced spy
organization on the planet. Supplying nearly 80
percent of all intelligence to the rest of
government, it needed an entire city to house
ita city that, if incorporated, would be one of
the largest municipalities in the state of
Maryland. At the same time, it remained nearly as
dark and mysterious as when Harry Truman secretly
created it, without the approvalor even
knowledgeof Congress, nearly half a century
earlier. To those who worked there, NSA still
stood for No Such Agency and Never Say Anything.
To those on the outside it was virtually
invisible, hidden from the world behind a
labyrinth of barbed wire and electrified fences,
massive boulders, motion detectors, hydraulic
antitruck devices, cement barriers, attack dogs,
and submachine gun-toting commandos in black
ninja outfits nicknamed "Men in Black."
Inside, upwards of 30,000 employees and
contractors traveled over its 32 miles of roads,
parked in lots covering 325 acres, and entered
one of more than four dozen buildings containing
more than seven million square feet of floor
space. More than 37,000 cars were registered in
the city, and its post office distributed over
70,000 pieces of mail a day. The secret city's
police force employed more than 700 uniformed
officers and a SWAT team, ranking it among the
top 5 percent in the country in terms of size.
Its fire department responded to 168 alarms and
44 automobile accidents the year before Hayden arrived.
Like a powerful political boss, Hayden oversaw
his city from a suite of offices on the top floor
of the agency's massive headquarters/operations
building, an interconnected maze of over three
million square feet that stretched in all
directions. The complex is so large that the U.S.
Capitol could easily fit inside itfour times
over. Modern and boxy, it has a shiny black-glass
exterior that makes it look like a giant Rubik's
Cube. But hidden beneath the dark reflective
finish is the real building, a skinlike cocoon of
thick, orange-colored copper shielding to keep
all signalsor any other type of electromagnetic
radiationfrom ever getting out. Known by the
code name Tempest, this protective technique,
used throughout much of the secret city, was
designed to prevent electronic spies from
capturing any escaping emissions. Like a black
hole, NSA pulls in every signal that comes near,
but no electron is ever allowed to escape.
Like the walls, the window through which Hayden
was looking that bright December morning was
specially designed to prevent eavesdropping. Made
of two thick, bulletproof-style panes, they
contained -hairthin copper wires to seal in even
the faintest electronic whisper. And to prevent
sophisticated laser devices from capturing the
telltale vibration of his voice on the glass, music played between the panes.
But despite the metal walls and unbreakable
windows, when Hayden arrived the NSA's vast city
was a land under siege. Congress was lobbing
mortar rounds. Morale was lower than a buried
fiber-optic cable. Senior managers had become
"warlords" and were locked in endless internecine battles.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0385521324?ie=UTF8&tag=graniteisland-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0385521324
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
World Class, Professional, Ethical, and Competent Bug Sweeps, and
Wiretap Detection using Sophisticated Laboratory Grade Test Equipment.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
James M. Atkinson Phone: (978) 546-3803
Granite Island Group Fax: (978) 546-9467
127 Eastern Avenue #291 Web:
http://www.tscm.com/
Gloucester, MA 01931-8008 E-mail: mailto:jm..._at_tscm.com
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We perform bug sweeps like it's a full contact sport, we take no prisoners,
and we give no quarter. Our goal is to simply, and completely stop the spy.
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Received on Sat Mar 02 2024 - 00:57:24 CST