False Narrative 3: On with the Trial

The FBI was gearing up for possible outbreaks of  terrorism. So far it had only one catch, but was watching 61 alleged threats.

Kristina Berster’s trial in Vermont revealed the danger of guilt by association and how disinformation creates a false narrative. 

By Greg Guma

Chapter Three: On with the Trial

Dennis Schlenker had studied the West German legal situation, but his main concern at the moment was the case of conspiracy and passport violations, which could mean as much as a 20-year sentence for Kristina Berster. Arriving in Burlington on August 28 from Albany, he presented arguments for a delay of her trial so that a survey of local attitudes toward his defendant could be completed.

Schlenker was also worried about access to Berster. Security arrangements at the Albany jail were being tightened, and it had become more difficult to get messages through. “These new rules,” he told US District Court Judge Albert Coffrin, “are not from the Justice Department or the Marshall’s Office. They are for her only, and are designed to deter her from speaking to her attorneys and visitors.” On two occasions, her lawyer said, requests that Berster call him hadn’t even been forwarded by guards.

Meanwhile, a Burlington-based Berster Defense Committee organized a volunteer staff of about 30 to conduct a regional survey. The question was whether Berster, after weeks of publicity identifying her with terrorism, could be judged dispassionately by local jurors.

For the press the case was still hot news, but denials and clarifications are never quite as dramatic as the original accusations. WCAX’s Wadi Sawabini was on hand at the committee’s first press meeting. He filmed the event, but no report was ever aired and the local TV station continued to call her a “suspected terrorist.”

Judy Polumbaum, a reporter from the Montpelier Times-Argus, wrote an accurate account, and attempted to arrange an interview with Berster, as did Susan Green, a Burlington Free Press reporter with magazine contacts. But Kristina wasn’t interested in answering more questions. Between lawyers and intelligence agents, the interviewing had already been going on for weeks.

Berster’s lawyers examined a variety of technical issues, including details of her apprehension and other physical evidence. Although there were originally four defendants, the situation changed at the August 28 court session when one defendant, Michael Ditterlizzi, who drove the car to the border, pleaded guilty to one count of conspiracy, and another, Marie Amendola, decided to become a witness for the state.

According to Ditterlizzi’s lawyer, Fred Cohn, his client’s guilty plea wouldn’t hurt Berster’s case. “He made the best deal he could,” said Cohn. “For him, this is not a political case.”

The new developments left two defendants, Berster and Ray Kajmir. But the two cases might be separated before the trial began. If so, the focus would be on Berster and the intelligence agencies could again get into the act. Her attempt to enter the US had already provided FBI Director Webster with a publicity boost: evidence that terrorism was a growing “problem” in this country.

Back in March Webster had called the effort to combat terrorism one of the Bureau’s top four priorities. The FBI, he said, was “gearing up for possible outbreaks of urban terrorism,” and planned to develop “sophisticated profiles of terrorist groups.” So far, Berster was the Bureau’s only catch, although Webster warned that the FBI was watching 61 terrorist threats.

For the FBI, under persistent attack for past abuses, the chance to place terrorism in the public spotlight was evidently too much to resist. The labeling and subsequent retraction were similar to the tactics used during the COINTELPRO era. The terrorist label, code for political criminal, provided the justification for a new round of surveillance, seizures and wiretaps, as well as inclusion of broader powers in the agency charter under congressional scrutiny.

All this gave the case a deja vu quality for both Berster and Kunstler. During her last months in Germany, surveillance of the New Left increased. Even her lawyers were not immune to intrusive investigation. For Kunstler, set to return to Vermont when the trial started on October 3, it harked back to his role in the Chicago Seven case. In fact, on August 25, he had filed the most recent motion in that decades-old case, asking that a federal court set aside contempt convictions against himself and several defendants because a defense strategy meeting had been bugged by the FBI.

Kunstler said that at the Chicago Seven trial “there was extensive bugging of the defense camp before the trial, during it and after it.” Whether the same thing would happen in Berster’s case remained an open question (At the very least, there was photo surveillance, according to FBI documents released years later). Judging from the presence of German agents and FBI personnel, the intelligence community was giving the border affair more than passing attention.

In a word, the case was ironic. Kristina Berster awaited trial in Burlington because she left her homeland after rejecting the violence that had begun to envelop the country. Yet the specter of that violence followed her, and might yet be used by the American intelligence community to create another terrorist scare. It was certainly “good copy.” 

By mid-September Kunstler became blunt and defiant. Most Vermonters were “irreparably prejudiced by publicity identifying Kristina as a suspected West German terrorist,” he charged. It was a long shot, but he asked Judge Coffrin to dismiss the case against the 28-year-old defendant, who was facing eight counts for attempting to enter the US illegally. 

Greg Guma,1980

To buttress this claim of prejudicial pre-trial publicity, the Burlington Free Press reported, “Kunstler put Burlington journalist Greg Guma on the stand to testify that newspapers, television and radio stations in Chittenden County consistently have identified Miss Berster as a member of a terrorist gang.” In other words, I had become the first defense witness to explain my investigative work.

By then, to be frank, I was also helping to conduct research on the jury pool for the defense. 

At the federal building, the security force was ready for a siege. US Marshals, security specialists and assorted agents roamed the five floors of the downtown building with walkie-talkies. Packages and handbags weren’t permitted into the courtroom, and no one except the lawyers could speak with the now-infamous defendant.

After a week of jury selection, the defense wasn’t optimistic — and mostly working toward a hung jury. The air was thick with intrigue. US Attorney William Gray insisted that he was merely prosecuting a simple border case, but one in which the bail was initially set at $500,000. Kunstler shot back that the issues were far from simple and the FBI was very much involved.

The legendary lawyer had taken the case pro bono. Known for defending political dissidents, he saw it as a significant battle: a defendant seeking political asylum from a country that had been indicting even “radical” lawyers. “This case goes far beyond Kristina Berster,” Kunstler claimed. “I am very concerned with West Germany’s treatment of so-called terrorists and the so-called left wing lawyers who defend them.”

By late September he and other defense attorneys, along with the headquarters for the Berster Defense Committee, had dug in at the Maple Street home I shared with Doreen Kraft, Robin Lloyd and our infant son. Kunstler moved into a spare bedroom and evenings were often devoted to hours-long, fascinating group dinners and personal chats. Over the next weeks we all underwent an immersive course in courtroom dynamics and Kunstler’s blend of legal jujitsu and theatrics. So compelling were the issues, and so high the stakes, that I began to devote most of my time to the case.

No big surprise, I was laid off. Rather than welcoming “insider” coverage of the state’s hottest story, the Vanguard’s editor, Jim Martin, wanted no more of it. Fortunately, I was reaching a national audience nightly on WBAI and other Pacifica radio stations.  

Maybe it was naive, but I didn’t seriously consider the possible consequences at first. Specifically, I didn’t appreciate how the Department of Justice and intelligence community would react to growing support for the defendant. In fact, when the US attorney claimed that no local surveillance had been initiated, I wanted to believe him. Three years later we found out that he was far from candid.

From Berster’s first appearance in court, it turned out, the FBI conducted an intensive covert investigation of her allies and supporters. The operation’s code name was TERCROSS; the tactics included stake outs and surreptitious photography, along with follow up long after the trial ended. FBI documents subsequently obtained by members of the Defense Committee showed that the case provided a pretext to continue and extend surveillance of the local left, which had begun years before. 

After exposure only the operation’s title changed. In its revised form, TERCROSS was supposed to trace links between Vermont activists and “foreign terrorists.”

Among other things, Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) documents revealed that the US Attorney personally approved surveillance during the trial, as long as it was handled discreetly “and without detection.” According to FBI analysts, this was necessary because some of Kristina’s supporters may have known her prior to her arrival from Europe. One memo indicated that the FBI told the US Marshall and local police about a possible link between the Defense Committee and “terrorist activity in the United States.”

TERCROSS was later merged with another project, GILROB, the label for a bank robbery investigation. Gray was advised “that special agents from the Boston division would be traveling to Burlington for the purpose of observing and possibly photographing Kristina Berster supporters present at the trial.” Gray may have acted under pressure. In any case, he lied in court, voiced no reservations to the feds, and simply urged secrecy.

During the trial we had no evidence that surveillance was underway. All Kunstler could do was subpoena FBI Director Webster, a maneuver that didn’t impress the judge. After eight days in court just to reach the opening statements, Judge Coffrin was impatient. He sometimes looked not at the lawyers but at the clock.

“Something happened before July 20,” Kunstler shouted. He was talking about the media campaign launched with Webster’s press conference. “The FBI was up to something. If the jury found out that the FBI pursued this case on the basis of an agreement with a foreign government, they could acquit the defendant.”

The normally calm prosecutor was equally adamant. Gray reminded the judge that Kunstler often used the FBI as a “whipping boy.” He had successfully made a similar argument to prevent West German experts and US lawyers from testifying about conditions in Germany. “If selective prosecution is tried before this jury, then Assistant US Attorney O’Neill and I would have to testify,” Gray argued. “Really, the FBI has no significance on the issues involved.”

Kunstler took another tack. “Mr. Gray says this is like all other cases,” he reminded the room. “He made this a jury issue in his opening statement. We have the right to rebut, and we need to determine what went on. Who did Webster talk to, and what did the Germans want?”

“It was my decision to prosecute,” Gray protested.

Kunstler shot back, “Your honor, this may have been beyond Mr. Gray’s control.”

Coffrin wasn’t swayed. After a lunch break he denied Kunstler’s subpoena request without explanation. 

Next: The Defendant Speaks

False Narrative: Eight Chapters

On the Line

Guilt by Association

On with the Trial

The Defendant Speaks (Sort of)

The Therapeutic State

The Crackdown

Staging Terror

Managing Perceptions

False Narrative 2: Guilt by Association

 The Vermont trial of an alleged “terrorist” revealed the danger of guilt by association, and how disinformation creates a false narrative.  In 1978 FBI manipulation proved effective: Kristina Berster might be technically innocent until proven guilty, but in the public’s opinion she was a terrorist until proven otherwise.

By Greg Guma

Chapter Two: Guilt by Association

TERRORIST HELD AFTER ATTEMPT TO ENTER U.S.

— Rutland Herald, July 21, 1978

The birth of my son Jesse on the evening of July 3, 1978, moments before Burlington’s annual fireworks display, was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Robin Lloyd and I had made a life-changing decision — to co-parent a child. But just three weeks later, after a brief break from political journalism and parenting to cover stock car racing, another incredible journey began. 

Someone had been arrested crossing the border illegally from Canada. The FBI and newspapers called her a terrorist. Friends in the peace and feminist movements said the opposite: she was the victim, a student fleeing repression and seeking asylum.

In June, I had reported on related concerns in the anti-nuclear movement. The Clamshell Alliance was at a crossroads. A legal rally had been held near the Seabrook nuclear construction site, a shift away from civil disobedience that allowed over 15,000 people to gather peacefully. But some Clams felt that the spirit and process of the organization was being undermined. They also had evidence that it was under surveillance and possibly had been infiltrated. At a conference in New Hampshire, paranoia flowed powerfully beneath the surface. 

The suspicions were not unwarranted. Since 1974, surveillance, harassment, and infiltration of nuclear power opponents had been deemed "necessary" by public officials to prevent "terrorist” incidents. In 1977, New Hampshire Gov. Meldren Thompson had publicly called Clamshell’s mass occupation at the Seabrook nuclear site a "cover for terrorism." Afterward, some Clams obtained documents from the State Police indicating that the U.S. Labor Party, which promoted nuclear power in its extremist literature, had provided the “information,” including the accusation that Clamshell members were "terrorists." The Party was led by right-wing conspiracy monger Lyndon LaRouche. Working through its National Caucus of Labor Committee (NCLC), the Labor Party had expanded its focus to Vermont, at the instigation of Nancy Kaufman, an appointee to the Vermont State Nuclear Advisory Panel.

            During testimony before the Vermont Nuclear Advisory Panel, NCLC spokesman Jon Gilbertson, a pro-nuclear expert who once worked for General Electric, denied that his group was anything but a vocal pro-nuclear lobby. Activists charged that NCLC itself was a "terrorist" organization.

New England wasn't the only target of pro-nuclear intelligence groups. During a Los Angeles City Council hearing on a proposed nuclear facility, the L.A. Police Department had assigned two officers to photograph and videotape witnesses critical of the plan. Similar incidents were being reported in Philadelphia, New Jersey, and Georgia. In at least one case, the use of informers and agents-provocateurs had been confirmed. 

During the trial of activists arrested during the 1977 Abalone Alliance occupation of the Diablo Canyon plant in California, evidence surfaced that two local police officers had infiltrated the group. They were reportedly the only ones to suggest the use of violence.

The arrest of Kristina Berster was a potential bonanza for agencies and organizations promoting a strong “counterterrorist” response. The general public first heard about her on July 21, several days after she was caught. The FBI knew only that she was a West German citizen wanted there for something called “criminal association.” The crime didn’t exist in the US. The source of the charge was her previous membership in a radical therapy group, the Socialist Patients Collective. According to German authorities, some of its members may have later joined the notorious Red Army Faction, also known as the Baader-Meinhof group, a radical underground movement dedicated to armed struggle.

Though highly circumstantial, the “evidence” was enough to launch a nationwide terrorist scare. In those days most Americans were much easier to convince. For FBI Director William Webster in particular, it was an opportunity to back up his claims that urban terrorism was on the rise. The Bureau was pushing for more agents and expanded authority to investigate citizens who were “reasonably believed” to be involved in “potential” terrorist activities. So far, the funding was stalled. Instead, criticism of the FBI increased as Congress discussed a charter to define and possibly limit the Bureau’s future activities.

Webster’s press conference had a simple but important — and deceptive — goal: to convince the country that a foreign terrorist had been caught in a conspiracy with Americans. He stopped short of calling Berster a member of Baader-Meinhof. But FBI spokesmen were already contacting their favorite reporters as off-the-record sources to provide additional details. The next morning daily newspapers across the country spread the news in big headlines. Countless papers, from the Washington Post to the Rutland Herald, used the same basic line, “Terrorist Held After Attempt to Enter the U.S.” Some accounts even printed an agent’s speculation that Berster had come to Vermont in order to assassinate the president of BMW. After all, he was planning a visit to Rutland.

One of the first Vermont jounalists contacted was Burlington Free Press reporter Mike Donoghue, who had excellent police sources. He received a wake up call about the arrest early on July 20 and ripped some AP copy that directly called her a Baader-Meinhof member. When I asked him about the source of his story, Mike declined to say. But the managing editor of another Vermont daily, The Rutland Herald, revealed that FBI press officer Tom Harrington had fed the information to his reporter.

Harrington denied it. “We didn’t put her with any group,” he claimed. Nevertheless, most US newspapers that day called her a terrorist, using that loaded word without hesitation. But the ruse couldn’t be maintained. A week later, another FBI press official issued a low-key retraction. Barely noticed, the statement admitted the Bureau actually had no evidence that Berster was a terrorist. 

        The “clarification” had been forced on the FBI after West German officials issued their own statement, calling her a “fringe figure” whom they might not bother to extradite. In any case, she was an illegal alien facing federal conspiracy charges.     

WCAX reporter Wady Sawabini also tackled the story. He was tipped by an unnamed source in the Burlington Federal Building. Sawabini was known for his contacts and film coverage of anti-war demonstrations. He leapt into the case, providing information to lawyers and tracking the principals — on film whenever possible.

By then I had also become involved. Several friends had formed a defense committee. And in early August, I visited the Albany lockup to speak with the “terrorist” in person, at length and in disguise. As it turned out, I was the only reporter who managed to do so. What I heard was a tale of persecution and flight. The resulting cover feature appeared in the “Back to School” issue of the Vermont Vanguard Press, which had been publishing for just seven months. It was our biggest scoop so far. The cover photo showed an intense young woman in shackles, under heavy guard.

“Was Kristina Berster Tried and Convicted by a Prejudiced Press?” asked a cautiously provocative inside headline, above an investigative report that shared her side of the story and examined both the FBI’s “disinformation” operation and the media’s distribution of the distorted story.

The Vanguard’s editor was worried that we might be going too far, however, and decided to hedge his bet with a disclaimer. Describing me as a member of the Defense Committee, which was not actually true, he wrote that my report raised questions about “objectivity and conflict of interest.” Fortunately, he concluded that objectivity is a myth, and that my “pro-Berster sentiments” didn’t prevent me from doing my job.

Nevertheless, my credibility was on the line. The FBI’s manipulation of the media had proven effective. Kristina Berster might be technically innocent until proven guilty, but in the eyes of the public she was a terrorist until proven otherwise.

Preserving peace and preventing terrorism are among the basic goals of law enforcement. If the methods are legal and ethical, most actions clearly intended to prevent potentially violent situations don’t raise questions. But when governments go beyond that, when groups or individuals are targeted for their views, associations, or criticisms of a government, they have crossed a constitutional line.

In a 1969 US Supreme Court case, Brandenburg v. Ohio, the majority said that the government cannot legally “forbid or proscribe advocacy of the use of force or law violation except where such advocacy is directed toward inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.” In other words, without a “clear and present danger,” suppressing speech and punishing people for their associations are out of bounds. By the time that ruling was issued, however, the US federal government had been engaged in a covert program directed against domestic targets for years. 

In a 1976 report by the US Senate Select Committee to Study Government Operations, the program known as COINTELPRO was described as “a sophisticated vigilante operation aimed squarely at preventing the exercise of First Amendment rights of speech and association, on the theory that preventing the growth of dangerous groups and the propagation of dangerous ideas would protect the national  security and deter violence.” Its dubious premise, the report explained, was that law enforcement must “do whatever is necessary to combat perceived threats to the existing social and political order.” In other words, anything goes.

The ultimate motives were murky, but by the late 1970s several major energy corporations also provided a push, and the intelligence community was ready and willing to actively infiltrate and spy on anti-nuclear activist groups. Related to that, I was also concerned about the loose and misleading use of the words like “terrorist.” Until I met Kristina, however, I had no idea how far anti-terrorist “preparedness” could go.

While investigations proceeded on two continents, a defense team was being formed. In Burlington, the defendant would have the counsel of William Kittel, as well as Albany attorney Dennis Schlenker. But the local team would be led, whether they liked it or not, by William “Wild Bill” Kunstler. This was just the case he had been waiting for: a defendant seeking political asylum from a country that had begun to indict and convict so-called radical lawyers. It was a marriage made in Heidelberg and Chicago.

“This case goes far beyond Kristina Berster,” said Kunstler, after approaching the defendant to offer his services. “I am very concerned with West Germany’s treatment of so-called terrorists and the so-called left wing lawyers who defend them.” Kristina also had been contacted by two German intelligence agents, who promised that her German charges could be reduced, or even dropped, if she gave them valuable information — especially names.

When she declined, the promise became a threat: “Then you’ll be coming with us.”  

At a press conference, Kunstler mentioned the “panic” reaction growing from the “terrorist” label, resulting in an initial $500,000 bail, the largest amount ever set for a border charge. On August 1, when Berster pleaded not guilty to the charges, that figure was reduced to $100,000. In the headlines, however, she remained a “suspected terrorist.”

By this time the graffiti was on the wall. Berster wanted political asylum, but in City Hall a leaflet supporting the West German woman was found defaced with the phrase, “Send the bitch home!”

A month after her capture, Berster was back in Burlington’s U.S. District Court, pleading innocent to an eight-count indictment charging passport violations and conspiracy. She wasn’t alone. Ray Kajmir, a New York boutique owner, was also pleading innocent. He and two others had been indicted for “aiding” Berster’s alleged illegal entry.

“I am not a terrorist,” said Kajmir. “My conduct has been based upon human principals of the highest order: to help and protect another human being.”

Berster refused to talk to reporters, but through the legal team potential supporters heard that she was a feminist. This struck a chord in Burlington’s women’s movement, which had been active for years and had a new women’s monthly newspaper, Commonwoman. At the court session, several spectators were identified as members of the newspaper’s volunteer staff.

The event had a backdrop of intrigue. Part of the atmosphere was supplied by Nils Briska, the librarian from Albany. On August 3, after an unsuccessful attempt to see the defendant, Briska was discovered unconscious on a raft in Plattsburg Bay. He was tied at the ankles, waist, neck and wrists, crumpled in a large covered toolbox. Briska blamed the assault on “terrorists,” but the police said he might have tied himself up.

Although Briska wasn’t at the August 15 indictments, Burlington TV reporter Wady Sawabini said that the librarian “definitely has some problems.” Sawabini grew suspicious after receiving a threatening phone call about his coverage of the case. Seeing a man on the phone outside the courtroom speaking German, he decided to investigate. Sawabini asked the caller who he was, but couldn’t get past the man’s protests that he was being harassed.

The case was taking bizarre turns. The West German government still hadn’t forwarded a clear indication of some formal indictment. Odd characters were beginning to clutter the Burlington scene. And beyond the alleged border offenses, Kristina still had no idea what charges she might face back home.

Next: On with the Trial

False Narrative: Eight Chapter

On the Line

Guilt by Association

On with the Trial

The Defendant Speaks (Sort of)

The Therapeutic State

The Crackdown

Staging Terror

Managing Perceptions

Tyeastia Green Resigns Again: Racism or Competence?

BURLINGTON, VT — Questions and controversy surrounding Tyeastia Green’s resignation and work as Minneapolis’ Director of Race and Equity continue to make headlines. But not so far in Vermont, where she held the same job in Burlington only a year ago and also left amidst controversy. 

When Green resigned in Burlington, Vermont, the initial reason she gave was feeling “unsupported in her role.” State Sen. Kesha Ram backed her up, reporting that conversations in City Hall “made her feel truly unwelcome” and “made it clear the systemic change she was trying to bring was unwelcome.” Green later clarified, saying she was heading back home to Minneapolis to take on a similar position. 

Max Tracy, then Burlington City Council President, called her departure “a devastating loss to our city." He blamed Mayor Miro Weinberger and attempts to control the management of Juneteenth, a major event Green promoted and organized. Her departure was followed by more resignations from the City’s Office for Racial Equity. 

The troubles in Minneapolis and Burlington have similar roots, and some say her influence in Burlington continues. The only Vermont coverage of her most recent resignation appeared in the Vermont Daily Chronicle, which reported that the main focus in Minneapolis is her apparent failure to raise sufficient funds, and subsequent misstatements and cover up. 

On March 13, 2023, Green resigned under pressure, amidst allegations about another marquee event, the Feb. 25 Black History Month expo at the Minneapolis Convention Center. The expo dramatically undersold, with around 3,700 ticketed attendees compared to the 20,000 predicted by Green. It is under investigation by the City’s audit committee. 

Since Green’s resignation, she has faced allegations she made false statements to city council members regarding donations. She told council members the lack of funding was due to a meeting she had with ethics office attorneys, who told her she couldn't directly receive money from private entities as it violated the city’s ethics code. "When I was fundraising for this event, I guess I wasn't allowed to do that through city rules," Green said. "The money we had received from corporate sponsorships we had to return."

“Bush Foundation offered us $3 million dollars but they had some stipulations that we could not satisfy," Green added. "I would say we had about probably $200,000 in funds from organizations." The Bush Foundation has issued a statement saying it made no such offer. Details of the $200,000 allegedly pledged by other organizations have not been revealed.

A week before resigning, however, Green accused city officials of undermining her work. In a memo to the Minneapolis operations officer, the mayor and City Council members, she described her experiences at the city as “toxic” and “anti-Black.” Since her resignation in Minneapolis, Burlington has decided to conduct its own internal audit of the city’s racial equity department. Green welcomed the review, but added that Mayor Weinberger “wanted to uphold white supremacy culture.”

In 2012, Alliant Techsystems, a Minnesota-based arms manufacturer, paid Green $100,000 to settle a race discrimination lawsuit. According to the suit, Green applied for a job to provide IT support for executives.  Although a recruiter initially told her that she had the job, management rejected her and hired a white male instead. 

An Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) lawsuit charged that the official reasons for the decision were a cover for race discrimination. Specifically, Green said that the company’s recruiter advised her to take out her braids after her first interview to appear "more professional" in the interviews that would follow. Green initially followed the instructions, and was told afterward that the company wanted to hire her.

Then the recruiter allegedly called her again to inform her that she would need to meet with the company’s information technology director. By then Green had replaced her braids. She went to the meeting and shortly after was told that the company decided to hire another candidate for the position. 

(Updated 3/24/23)

False Narrative 1: The Persecution of Kristina Berster

 How the Vermont trial of an alleged “terrorist” revealed 

the danger of guilt by association, and the way 

disinformation creates a false narrative. 

Chapter One

On the Line — July 16, 1978

Kristina Berster got out of the brown Mercury and began to say her goodbyes. It wasn’t what she’d hoped for, but she thanked them anyway for bringing her this far. Mostly, she spoke to Ray, who looked pretty gloomy in the back seat.

“Are you sure about this?” he grumbled. He doubted that the idea would work. But indecision was a hopeful sign. After previous refusals, the Americans might wait for her on the other side of the border after all, and then drive her to Plattsburgh.

She would have to be shrewd. The driver didn’t know much about the real situation, only that she wanted to enter the US secretly — in other words, illegally — and needed a lift to Noyan, near the border, to check things out. Ray’s girlfriend Maria probably knew more, and she was nervous. She’d helped rent a room at the Noyan Inn. But now she wanted to move on to sightseeing. And she wasn’t at all eager to take unnecessary risks for a stranger.

Persuading Ray, appealing to his sense of chivalry, seemed like a viable strategy. It was certainly preferable to hitchhiking at night to someplace she had never seen.

Or maybe guilt would work. “The least you can do is wait on the US side,” she pleaded, and grabbed the roadmap she had been using to direct the driver, Michael, since they left Montreal. She pointed to a spot on the US side where, according to some friends back in France, there was a gas station called the Alburg Truck Stop. They could pick her up there after she made her way around the Customs station.

“It’s crazy, not a good plan,” said Ray. She had made up her mind, but he continued to discourage her. He wasn’t even sure why she was running. What had provoked such a desperate move? In the end, however, he knew it was her decision and the only humane thing was to try to make sure she made it safely.

She’d decided. No more refusals. And no more time to argue. Her Canadian visa ran out in August and there was no telling when she could get a ride this far again. Better to try now. It was as good as any other option. There was a good chance that Ray and the others would wait for her.

“Thank you for helping,” she said, giving Maria a kiss. Then the car headed back as she watched from the roadside, surrounded by trees and pastures. Her route was in the opposite direction. To her right, sometimes through the branches, she could see the setting sun. It was cloudy, interrupting an orange glimmer of the puddles in her path. She didn’t notice much, instead reviewing the choices she had made since flying from Lyon to Mirabel airport. As usual, she was preoccupied with her shortcomings and mistakes.

She knew one thing. If she couldn’t make it to Plattsburgh today her chances wouldn’t improve by returning to the Inn. The room had been a security measure at best, in case someone questioned her presence near the border. “Just a student,” she could say, “visiting wonderful Canada and staying in the countryside.” They might just believe her. But the prospect of another night at the Inn, alone, without a ride or her luggage, wasn’t appealing.

Leaving her bags back in Montreal was probably one of those mistakes. It would take weeks to get them back. They might even be lost or seized if Ray didn’t return to pick them up. On the other hand, they had been useful as collateral to get this far. When Ray balked at providing a ride to Noyan, she said, “Here, I’ll leave my clothing in Montreal to prove I’m not planning to cross today.” The small lie had worked.

She was 90 percent certain that Ray would convince the others to make the pick up in Alburg. Still, he was skeptical about the whole idea, and Maria’s presence limited her ability to persuade him. It had been different back in France, where they first met. Last year he seemed suave, independent, and eager to help. But she wasn’t ready to leave Europe. Since then Ray had turned cautious, although she still sensed his underlying generosity.

Many things had changed — friendships, the political scene, the intelligence dragnet descending over the continent. It was harder to find a helping hand, especially from someone like Ray, a boutique owner in Greenwich Village who avoided intrigue and had something to lose.

She was walking along an unmarked road. It felt like this was taking longer than necessary. On their map of Canada and Vermont, the Chileans had noted that the walk from Noyan to Alburg was no more than a few miles. But she’d been walking for an hour without a sign of the border. Maybe she was headed in the wrong direction. The last thing she needed was to get lost in the dark.

On the farmland beside the road she noticed someone, probably the owner or a worker. She waved and walked across the grass, greeting the Canadian in French. She was visiting the area, she said, and had become lost. She asked for directions back to the Inn and the location of a river to the west.

The farmer’s advice took her to the corner she had been looking for since about eight o’clock. The map called it Line Road. She assumed the name came from its location parallel to the border. But she wasn’t sure which side she was on. There was no sign of a Customs station in either direction. She decided to stay on the road. It couldn’t be far from the truckstop and the likelihood of being noticed in the dark was slim.

But she was afraid now. There was a chance of being stopped for “routine” questioning. In Europe it happened too often. Questions that led to detention while the authorities checked out her story and her passport. And detention would mean fingerprints, detection, identification, and questions she couldn’t afford to answer. If they used a computer they might discover who she really was.

For the moment she was Shahrzad S. Nobari, a 19-year-old citizen of Iran with German ancestry. A student with a five-week visa to visit Canada. To friends like Ray and others she knew abroad, she was Rita. That was usually enough, Rita Mueller. At the youth hostel in Montreal she had signed in as Nobari and told people to call her Rita. It was painful to remember when she had been herself, a 27 years old West German. A fugitive, moving from place to place, country to country, for more than five years.

While she walked west along Line Road, Customs Agent John Ryan was heading east in his patrol car with the headlights off. He had covered this zone for about four years, normally on the lookout for drug smugglers. He had been parked at the corner of Line Road and South Shore Drive, sitting out his shift, when he decided that something was up.

What he had noticed through the rear view mirror was a brown car, with three passengers, moving slowly along the road, then turning back in the opposite direction. It was just enough to arouse his suspicions.

Kristina noticed the car heading in her direction. The fact that its headlights were off nudged her fear up another notch. When the car reached her it stopped, and the man in the driver’s seat called her over to talk. Refusing would be suspicious, but speaking to a stranger could be risky.

While she weighed the alternatives Ryan stepped out of the car. Then she caught a glimpse of his badge, pinned to the shirt of his blue uniform. He asked where she’d been and where she was heading.

“I am out for a walk,” she said.

“Anything to declare?” 

“No.” Then he asked to see her purse. 

She handed it over and the agent examined its contents on the hood of his car. Aside from the beam of his flashlight, the road was dark. He found some notes, a wallet, a candybar, and a passport. Paging through it, he noticed the Canadian visa and Iranian citizenship. But there was no US visa.

“Would you step inside the car?” He said. It wasn’t a request.

Next: Guilt by Association

False Narrative: Other Chapters

Guilt by Association

On with the Trial

The Defendant Speaks (Sort of)

The Therapeutic State

The Crackdown

Staging Terror

Managing Perceptions