-Caveat Lector- from: http://www.guerrillanews.com/wildcard/vreeland_three Click Here: <A HREF="http://www.guerrillanews.com/wildcard/vreeland_three"> GuerrillaNews Special Report: Wildcard</A> -----
Part Three: The World's Best Con Man It's Saturday morning in "cottage country," at a lodge north of Toronto. The lake is as big as the sky and opens up right under my window. I go down to Vreeland's room, and we talk about his criminal past. "If you're the world's best con man you're not going to work for yourself, are you?,” he says. “That would be stupid. Who would you want to work for? Someone who can protect you." "I needed to have a criminal record.…It's easy to make someone your friend. I can become friends with suits, punkers, rastas, anyone." Vreeland repeatedly claims, "I've never been legally convicted of anything." The vocal emphasis is on "legally" by which Vreeland seems to mean "legitimately." How then does he explain his long list of outstanding warrants and convictions? "Well, I've seen other lists, with even more, hundreds of them, and then I've also seen them disappear. Remember, the FBI/NSIC fingerprints came back negative." It's true that when he was arrested in Canada, according to the arresting officer's notes, the FBI said they had no fingerprints on Vreeland. And although he is accused of credit card fraud in Michigan, Vreeland's credit card report states that he never had a credit card. Vreeland says his alleged crimes were just part of his cover, "I played the criminal. Like taking down [a] drug dealer…we needed information, I would get arrested and put in the same cell as him. I needed to have a criminal record.…It's easy to make someone your friend. I can become friends with suits, punkers, rastas, anyone." The Nation's Corn called Vreeland's note "a hard-to-decipher collection of phrases and names" that "holds no specific information related to the 9/11 assaults. There is no date mentioned, no obvious reference to a set of perpetrators." That's a distortion worthy of the CIA that Corn has written about (see Corn’s book “The Blond Ghost: Ted Shackley and the Cia's Crusades," Simon and Schuster, 1994). The name "bin Laden" appears at the top of the central paragraph of this note. It mentions a list of targets: "White House…World Trade Center…Pentagon…let one happen, stop the rest…prob. they will call me crazy." "Yes, it is true." A minute later, she changed her answer to, "No, the prosecution now thinks he got the notes to the jailers after 9/11." According to Greta Knutzen, reporting from Toronto for FromTheWilderness.com, "Vreeland requested that his guards seal the notes and register them in his personal effects, which they did." As of her report several months ago, "The fact that the notes were written and sealed a month prior to the violent attacks of Sept. 11 has not been disputed." However, a phone call to the Canadian prosecution team resulted in new, somewhat murky results. When I asked Assistant D.A. Dorette Hugins to confirm that the prosecution didn't dispute that the notes was were handed to the jailers in mid-August 2001, she immediately said, that "Yes, it is true." A minute later, she changed her answer to, "No, the prosecution now thinks he got the notes to the jailers after 9/11." Perhaps a forensics test will finally decide this question. Vreeland claims to have written the notes with a kind of blue pen that is technically illegal in Canadian jail. These pens had been handed to him by his attorneys, but confiscated as "contraband" in late August. An analysis of the pen ink of the notes could eventually help determine if they were in fact written in August, 2001. In court, D.A. Hugins and lead prosecutor Kevin Wilson argued that not only were the notes bogus, but that Vreeland was no spy. On January 10, Vreeland defense attorney Slansky pulled a dramatic courtroom stunt. He called a Pentagon operator from a speakerphone in open court, and asked if there as a listing for a “Delmart Vreeland.” He was given an office number and phone extension. The prosecution countered that Vreeland is a computer expert who likely discovered a way to hack into the Pentagon's network from jail, or had simply called the Pentagon from a jail phone and conned a military switchboard operation into assigning him an office and phone extension, though they offered no proof to support their argument. Discussing this that morning at the lodge, Vreeland was incredulous: "You can track an IP [ Internet Protocol number] in a heartbeat. Why haven't I been prosecuted for this? That's so stupid." Vreeland and I are sitting out on the balcony of his hotel room in the crisp Canadian sunshine. The trip is showing me a side of Vreeland that I hadn't seen. He has a 17-year old son of whom he is very protective. For this article, I promise to change his name. Call him "Joey." Joey is a punk skater with touches of raver. His favorite color is fluorescent orange. He wears black nylon bellbottoms with millions of pockets. He chain smokes, and talks incessantly about being drunk and how Dad’s connections are going to get him into Harvard Law School. Vreeland and Joey are endlessly bickering and scrapping, and then bumming Players Navy Cut cigarettes off each other with affection. Just as often as smoking them, Joey will throw the cigarettes at his father in exasperation. Vreeland claims to never have hit Joey, but he does often grab him, and is extremely physical with him, a strange, uncertain mix of roughhousing and desperate attempts at disciplining an uncontrollable kid. In the midst of an unsuccessful attempt to get Joey to respect his authority, Vreeland comments, "I don't know which is worse, getting shot at or being a Dad." He tries to convince my editor to send $500 so that he can go to Radio Shack, buy parts and build us a scale model of a missile defense weapon he says he developed for the Navy's Nuclear Training Command. Vreeland's code name is "Wildcard." Vreeland would like people to think that he can transform into anything and become as powerful as he wills, like the card in an amateur poker game. The nickname is apt for another reason. Vreeland's speech patterns are untamed, and he seems to be in a constant state of chemical imbalance. He drinks like there's a fire in his brain. He claims to have been given Clonapin (an antidepressant) for fifteen years by the Navy. He jumps from topic to topic like he's on a mix of acid and speed. In the hotel room, on the phone to New York, he tries to convince my editor to send $500 so that he can go to Radio Shack, buy parts and build us a scale model of a missile defense weapon he says he developed for the Navy's Nuclear Training Command. He hands me the phone. The first words out of my editor are, "Dude, what the fuck is he talking about?" The next day at the lodge, Joey is still trying to get his dad's attention by trashing hotel property. He has to be rescued by a nautical patrol while kayaking with his pal, Jacob. Then, they rent bikes, and ride them around inside the hotel. Vreeland yells at them. Joey drinks a beer in the hotel bar with the ID his dad got him so he could jet-ski. Vreeland announces we will all be leaving that night, our trip cut short by a day. Jane Woodbury, Vreeland's mother, testified during the trial that she remembers Delmart repeatedly warning her not to fly, especially to New York, throughout August, 2001. Immediately after the September 11 attacks, she claims she was visited by a U.S. Secret Service agent named Mitchell Szydlowski, who asked, "Do you believe Delmart is psychic? Did he ever predict 9/11 to you?" Jane Woodbury said no to both questions. In Canadian Court, the Secret Service confirmed that the visit took place. Jane Woodbury's current husband, Tony Matar, remembers her stating in the fall 2001, that her son had predicted the attack. Multiple phone calls to Secret Service agent Mitchell Szydlowski were not returned. At 3:26 PM Hotel Security calls. They want both boys off the property by sundown. Joey tells security he will have them all fired. The plan to leave that night is cemented. The silver Lincoln arrives and we all pile in for the trip back to Toronto. Part One: A White Knight? Part Two: Dissecting the Notes Part Three: The World's Best Con Man Part Four: Moscow Nights Part Five: The Man from Michigan Part Six: The World's Worst Liar Part Seven: ONI and CIA Part Eight: The Junkyard Dog Part Nine: AWOL in Wonderland ----- Aloha, He'Ping, Om, Shalom, Salaam. Em Hotep, Peace Be, All My Relations. Omnia Bona Bonis, Adieu, Adios, Aloha. Amen. 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