The Last Undercover (19 page)
In short order, the case agent determined that Todd was not a Muslim or from Africa but was in fact, white and the self-described “world’s premier body modification expert.” He lived in Canyon Country, an upscale Los Angeles suburb north of the city, in a home valued in excess of $1.4 million. He was not what Congress had in mind when they passed the legislation, but he was suspected of violating a law that carried a minimum mandatory sentence of five years. If the anonymous tip were true, Todd needed to be investigated. The problem was in proving the violation, especially in light of the fact the victim never came forward or was identified.
Since the FBI had no evidence of a criminal violation, the female case agent, posing online as the father of two daughters, an eight-year-old and a twelve-year-old, posted in a chat room that espoused the virtues of female circumcision. She requested more information on the procedure. Todd was the only person to respond to the posting. The case agent and Todd traded a series of e-mails and eventually he requested that she call him in order to discuss the details of the procedure. With that as the backdrop, I was brought in to make the actual calls and any face-to-face meetings. At the time, I was working on a terrorism squad and welcomed the opportunity to work with the SAFE team.
On August 9, 2002, I called Todd at his residence and went into my undercover mode. I explained I was married to an Egyptian who had two daughters, my stepdaughters. My wife’s family had money, I said, and I managed their assets in the United States, so it was important for me to keep the family happy. I explained that my wife had the procedure done as a child and now wanted her daughters to participate in the same rite of passage. I told Todd I wanted to find someone who could perform the surgery in the U.S. and he never hesitated in answering my questions. He was very open in our conversation but explained that the procedure was “highly illegal” in the United States, carrying a five-year sentence, and that even if I took the girls out of the country to have it done, it was still illegal. He described the procedure in detail and claimed the surgery would enhance my stepdaughters’ sexual experiences when they matured. He never hung up on me nor did he refuse to discuss the surgery, despite the acknowledged illegality of the act. In fact, Todd invited me and my wife to come to his house to further discuss the procedure.
I was excited about being invited for the face-to-face meeting, but that presented a problem: my nonexistent Egyptian wife. I wasn’t willing to take in just anyone, especially some undercover agent who knew nothing about the procedure and who couldn’t pass as Egyptian. My case agent went to work and finally, with the advocacy group’s assistance, we found a Middle Eastern woman who actually had the procedure as a child and could speak knowledgably about it.
Because it had taken us more than a month to find my “wife” and the clock was ticking, I couldn’t be too particular about whether the two of us would appear compatible as a couple. I was, however, curious as to who would volunteer for such an unusual—to say the least—assignment and anxiously awaited our first meeting. Was I surprised!
My “wife” was beautiful, well educated, and articulate—so much so that, had I been the target, I would have questioned what she saw in me. In fact, I was concerned that she was so attractive Todd might balk at my request to perform the procedure, not believing my cover story.
My undercover wife and I met twice, putting together a game plan. It was important for both of us to have a certain level of confidence in each other. It was especially important for her to believe I held her safety as my paramount concern. I didn’t really expect the meeting to be dangerous, but any undercover meeting can take a turn for the worse. When a target knows he is facing a minimum mandatory federal sentence, as Todd did, there is no telling what the reaction would be, should he suspect a law enforcement sting. Todd had a prior felony conviction and, based upon our investigation, had performed piercings and other more delicate body modification procedures on members of outlaw motorcycle gangs. As a result, we had no idea who else might be in the residence when we arrived, so safety was an obvious issue. My “wife” was satisfied with our preparation and confident I would protect her should matters head south. She was more than willing to assist in the investigation and go undercover with the FBI.
Los Angeles, 2001
This case wasn’t my first time to work with the SAFE team. They introduced me to NAMBLA a year earlier. An FBI agent assigned to the SAFE team contacted me about an undercover assignment involving overseas sex tours. The topic intrigued me before I even heard the details.
The SAFE team operated out of the L.A. FBI office and consisted of representatives from various federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies. The task force had a great reputation and was highly successful in targeting online sexual predators. I welcomed the opportunity to work with them.
The Knoxville, Tennessee, FBI office obtained information during a search that a Los Angeles–based travel agency catering to gays was arranging overseas tours affording opportunities for clients to have sexual contact with young boys. Representatives from the Justice Department and FBI agents from the Knoxville, Los Angeles, and Baltimore offices met in Knoxville and determined that Los Angeles would be tasked with opening an investigation on the travel agency.
By the time I joined the investigation, the Los Angeles case agent had already visited the travel agency’s Web site and obtained general information about travel to Thailand. He also requested information about upcoming tours. With that as the basic background, I came on board to make the necessary phone contacts and the face-to-face meetings.
I knew convincing a gay travel agent I desired to have sex with adolescent boys was going to require a great deal of preparation on my part. I spent the next several days camped out at one of the office’s covert computers, using my alias and accessing everything I could find on man/boy love. My knowledge of computers was very limited at that time, but I knew enough to fear that using my home computer would summon all kinds of unwanted cyber-junk mail into my living room. I was right. I am so glad I limited my Internet research on the topic to the covert computers. I was astounded and disgusted by the pop-ups and junk mail I began receiving in my undercover account.
I accessed a variety of Web sites and even entered a few “predicated chat rooms,” sites the FBI identified as venues where Internet sexual predators roamed. Posing as “bobby13,” I was quickly inundated by adults more than willing to engage me in sexual conversation. On more than one occasion, I was instructed on how to masturbate and was told by several that they were doing so as we chatted. The experience was as repulsive as it was enlightening.
Thanks to computer technology, child predators can find easy access to a network of support and comfort as well as opportunities to interact with teens and preteens. Web sites, chat rooms, forums, and postings are just a search engine away. My interest was man/boy love and there was no dearth of available information. Sometimes referring to their practices as Greek love, Internet authors went to great lengths to justify their pedophilic and pederast desires. Blaming centuries of repressive sexual mores, more than one writer claimed that true abuse was the by-product of limiting “intergenerational sex.” Boy lovers claimed they hoped to build personal relationships that did not necessarily include—but certainly didn’t exclude—sexual intimacy. They used words like “nourish,” “growth,” and “treasure.” Abuse was alleged when a boy was prevented from experiencing a freely chosen, loving relationship that allowed him to develop his “unique personality and sexuality”—regardless of his age or the age of his adult partner. Prohibiting this experience was seen as an infringement of the child’s natural rights.
Interestingly, girls are not given the same freedom in these contexts. The reasoning goes that boys by nature are “hunters,” while girls are “nesters.” Boys need to “explore” their sexuality and the boy lover is all too willing to participate in that exploration. I began to grasp the psychological and philosophical leanings of the BL.
I also came across the NAMBLA Web site. I was casually familiar with the organization but had never done any in-depth study of their philosophy. Now, though, I was interested. It wasn’t immediately clear how large the organization was, but it appeared to be the largest organized group of boy lovers in the United States. I assumed that those who traveled with the Hollywood-based travel agency would or could be members; maybe the travel agent was a member. I decided that joining the organization would give me much-needed credibility. It would also put me on the mailing list for the NAMBLA
Bulletin
, their semiregular magazine, which I assumed would provide more insight into the boy-lover mindset.
I was working with Patti Donahue, the Assistant United States Attorney overseeing the Los Angeles aspect of the Innocent Images National Initiative, an FBI-sponsored program targeting online predators. Patti was a well-respected federal prosecutor and I welcomed her counsel. She approved my joining the organization.
On July 31, 2001, I sent a letter stating,
I’m ready to join. Enclosed you’ll find a money order for $35. I’m a little nervous about adding my name to your rolls. I don’t trust the government but I just read where another coach was arrested for having consensual sex with a player. I’m tired of this.
I mailed the letter and money order to the San Francisco post office box listed on NAMBLA’s Web site.
Within a few weeks, I received a form letter signed by “Peter Herman” from a Midtown Station post office box in New York City. My name was handwritten in the salutation, giving the impression this massive organization had little time to personalize its communications. I remained unimpressed. My letter, welcoming me to the organization, appeared almost to be an afterthought.
Welcome to NAMBLA! We have received and processed your application. Thank you for joining us. You have taken a courageous step, and we congratulate you. . . .
NAMBLA is a political and educational organization. We do not conduct, participate in, or support any illegal activity. We strongly condemn sexual abuse and all forms of coercion, while making a distinction between coercive and consensual activities. We expect all of our members to be aware of this. . . .
Membership and participation in NAMBLA are your right under the U.S. Constitution’s First Amendment and the Bill of Rights. . . .
Congratulations on your decision to join us and take part in an historic campaign to defend personal freedom in America.
Joining the organization was as simple as that. I was hoping to at least receive a membership card to flaunt at my fellow undercover agents, but I had to make do with a letter praising my “courageous step.”
I began to contact the travel agent. Believing the e-mail communications he had with the case agent were from me, the travel agent spoke with me at length in one of our early conversations of my interest in an upcoming trip and my desire for a younger “clientele.” He mentioned an opening on an October excursion. I specifically told him of my desire for “a ten-year-old mocha teddy bear.” He balked at that comment and strongly cautioned me about talking so openly on the phone. However, he didn’t hang up. We continued the conversation, and he instructed me to mail the application and deposit with a copy of my passport, which I told him had expired and I was getting renewed.
On August 13, I sent a four-hundred-dollar postal money order and the following letter:
Here’s my deposit and application. . . .
You’re right about the phone. Sorry, if I talked too much. It’s just sometimes I get depressed and need somebody to talk with. I guess 10 is unrealistic but I hope 12–14 years old won’t be a problem. I just want my boys young and “mocha.” If it’s a problem I’ll understand. Just return the money, no “hard” feelings. Thanks for being so understanding. . . .
I was surprised when on August 23 the travel agent returned the $400 money order, tour application, and letter. He had underlined in red “10 is unrealistic” and “12–14 years old” and added the following notation: “This would be a problem. Sorry, but I did not realize you were looking in that neighborhood. . . . We cannot [help].”
I assumed our case was dead and that, for one of the few times in my career, I had lost. I pushed too hard on the phone and was over the top with the written letter.
I would soon discover, however, that this case was far from over.
RUB-A-DUB-DUB
I
n October 2002, as the time drew near for our first face-to-face meeting with the “world’s premier body modification expert,” the case agent and I did run into one administrative hurdle, clearly form over substance. The case agent administratively opened a file and classified my undercover wife as an informant. At that time, the FBI had two designations for what some departments categorized as a single classification. An informant was someone who provided information to the FBI without ever revealing that fact to the outside world. A cooperating witness, on the other hand, was an individual who sought to hide his or her identity during the course of an investigation, but was willing to come forward and testify should testimony be required. As the case agent and I were meeting with the SAFE Team supervisor and the FBI Assistant Special Agent in Charge, the ASAC balked at using my undercover wife in such a potentially dangerous situation, exposing the Bureau to potential liability should something go wrong. I could not understand his reluctance as he reviewed the written plan. I explained that throughout my career I often worked with CWs—cooperating witnesses—in more dangerous situations. But my UC wife was not a CW, he explained, she was an informant. With the stroke of a pen and some additional paperwork, we converted my wife from an informant to a cooperating witness. She was unaware of the modification to her status—again, form over substance. But the ASAC was satisfied and the operation was approved.