American Radical
Inside the World of an Undercover Muslim FBI Agent
(Sprache: Englisch)
THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
The explosive memoir of a Muslim American FBI agent fighting terror from the inside.
It's no secret that federal agencies are waging a broad, global war against terror. But for the first time in this memoir, an active...
The explosive memoir of a Muslim American FBI agent fighting terror from the inside.
It's no secret that federal agencies are waging a broad, global war against terror. But for the first time in this memoir, an active...
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THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLERThe explosive memoir of a Muslim American FBI agent fighting terror from the inside.
It's no secret that federal agencies are waging a broad, global war against terror. But for the first time in this memoir, an active Muslim American federal agent reveals his experience infiltrating and bringing down a terror cell in North America.
A longtime undercover agent, Tamer Elnoury joined an elite counterterrorism unit after September 11. Its express purpose is to gain the trust of terrorists whose goals are to take out as many Americans in as public and as devastating a way possible. It's a furious race against the clock for Tamer and his unit to stop them before they can implement their plans. Yet as new as this war still is, the techniques are as old as time: listen, record, and prove terrorist intent.
Due to his ongoing work for the FBI, Elnoury writes under a pseudonym. An Arabic-speaking Muslim American, a patriot, a hero: To many Americans, it will be a revelation that he and his team even exist, let alone the vital and dangerous work they do keeping all Americans safe.
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Chapter 1Super High
I was Rico Jordan before I was Tamer Elnoury. Hell, I was a lot of people before I ever got in front of a terrorist. I spent a lot of days looking and acting like a criminal. I had a knack for being able to relate to people. To pull them in and make them feel comfortable, even drug dealers.
I became Rico Jordan as soon as I tied my do-rag.
I stepped in front of the mirror and smoothed out my thick mustache and goatee that grew six or seven inches off my chin. Two hoop earnings went into my left ear. I tucked my baggy pants into my black Timberland boots and slid a pistol between my waistband and the small of my back.
It was close to 6:00 p.m. on September 10, 2001. I was working narcotics in New Jersey, so most of my days started when everyone else was headed home. For months, I'd been looking for the distributor of Super High, a potent batch of heroin coming out of New York. When Super High hit the streets, overdoses skyrocketed.
My target was Kit Kat's crew. She and her two sons ran a network of dealers working the towns and cities in central New Jersey. After months of buying from them, they agreed to let me meet their Super High source. The supplier's street name was Black. We'd heard of him, but we'd never gotten eyes on him. That was my job. Identify him and wait for the SWAT team to make the arrest.
Traffic was thick with the bridge-and-tunnel crowd coming home. Kit Kat's crew worked out of a row house at the end of an alley with lookouts positioned on the roof. I parked my green Mazda 626 behind the house after circling the block a few times. Most drug dealers will make a couple of passes to make sure the block isn't hot, and I needed to look the part. It also let me relay information back to the waiting SWAT team. While I drove, I narrated what I saw into a Nokia cell phone.
"Four guys at the front of the house," I said. "No one on the porch."
Billy, my sergeant, was on the other end of the line. He passed
... mehr
each mental picture back to the staging location, a makeshift command center. At the mouth of the alley, I saw the spotters on the roof watching me. With each step, everything slowed in my mind. I'd come a long way since my first drug buy three years ago.
My first buy was for "dip"-shards of crack cocaine chipped off a bigger rock. My hands were sweating as I approached the dealer. I pressed a twenty-dollar bill into his hand and waited for him to fish out a shard from a plastic bag. I was anxious. I couldn't catch my breath. My fingers tingled with adrenaline. I probably looked like a junkie. The dealer put the shard into my hand. I barely felt it as I ran back to the undercover car.
"How did it go?" Mike, my handler, said.
"Good, man," I said. "Look."
I held out my hand. The dip was just a smear. The rock melted in my sweaty hands.
"That's great," Mike said. "What was his name?"
"Who?" I said.
"The dealer," Mike said. "What was he wearing?"
I stared out the windshield trying to conjure an image.
"Was he black or white at least?"
I didn't know. I found out later the dealer had an enormous eagle tattoo on his neck. I was so full of nerves and fear I missed everything. It was embarrassing.
After that, I started to study. I found a junkie who taught me how to cook crack, cut heroin and cocaine. But the biggest lesson was the power of addiction. Just the thought of getting high aroused him. He carried a razor blade in his pocket. If he got arrested, he sliced up his leg through his pants and poured heroin into the wound. It was the only way to stave off withdrawal in jail. Rico Jordan was born out of those meetings. There was
My first buy was for "dip"-shards of crack cocaine chipped off a bigger rock. My hands were sweating as I approached the dealer. I pressed a twenty-dollar bill into his hand and waited for him to fish out a shard from a plastic bag. I was anxious. I couldn't catch my breath. My fingers tingled with adrenaline. I probably looked like a junkie. The dealer put the shard into my hand. I barely felt it as I ran back to the undercover car.
"How did it go?" Mike, my handler, said.
"Good, man," I said. "Look."
I held out my hand. The dip was just a smear. The rock melted in my sweaty hands.
"That's great," Mike said. "What was his name?"
"Who?" I said.
"The dealer," Mike said. "What was he wearing?"
I stared out the windshield trying to conjure an image.
"Was he black or white at least?"
I didn't know. I found out later the dealer had an enormous eagle tattoo on his neck. I was so full of nerves and fear I missed everything. It was embarrassing.
After that, I started to study. I found a junkie who taught me how to cook crack, cut heroin and cocaine. But the biggest lesson was the power of addiction. Just the thought of getting high aroused him. He carried a razor blade in his pocket. If he got arrested, he sliced up his leg through his pants and poured heroin into the wound. It was the only way to stave off withdrawal in jail. Rico Jordan was born out of those meetings. There was
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Tamer Elnoury
Tamer Elnoury was born in Egypt and immigrated to the United States before his fifth birthday. Elnoury began his career in law enforcement in 1995. After a brief stint with a fugitive task force, he began working undercover narcotics. Elnoury worked in more than 2,500 narcotics investigations as well as political corruption, gun trafficking, and child abuse cases. In 2008, Elnoury began working with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He joined an elite, covert counterterrorism unit. Elnoury has worked cases all over the world for multiple government agencies.Kevin Maurer is an award-winning journalist and the bestselling coauthor, with Mark Owen, of No Easy Day: The Firsthand Account of the Mission That Killed Osama bin Laden. He has covered war and terrorism for more than a decade.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Tamer Elnoury
- 2017, 368 Seiten, 8 Abbildungen, Maße: 15,9 x 23,6 cm, Gebunden, Englisch
- Verlag: Dutton
- ISBN-10: 1101986158
- ISBN-13: 9781101986158
- Erscheinungsdatum: 09.02.2018
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for American Radical"[A] multifaceted, action-packed account of real-life spycraft...Elnoury heightens the suspense in vividly described scenes...and provides insight into the worldview and intentions of al-Qaeda affiliates. There is never a dull moment in this intimate story of an American Muslim going to great lengths to serve and protect his country."-Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"The author reflects compellingly on the challenges of being a Muslim patriot, and he closes with a plea to resist wholesale bigotry: 'Banning Muslims from the United States throws gas on the myth that the United States is at war with Islam.' His tale of infiltration is exciting and clearly written...A worthwhile, unique addition to the shelf of post-9/11 memoirs concerning the fight against terrorism."-Kirkus Reviews
"The first time an active FBI agent has published a book remotely like it."-The Times (UK)
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