Scranton, Pa. – Shannen Rossmiller isn’t a terrorist. She just plays one on the Internet.
In the wee hours of the morning, while her family sleeps, the former Montana judge goes online and assumes the identity of a Muslim extremist – the better to strike up conversations with actual terrorists and, she hopes, ferret out their plans.
Then the 38-year-old former Miss Congeniality and married mother of three feeds the intelligence she gathers to the FBI.
Her moonlighting has brought down two suspects in the United States so far, including Michael Reynolds, an unemployed ex-con found guilty in federal court in Scranton last week of offering to help al-Qaeda blow up U.S. pipelines and refineries.
Reynolds thought he was conversing with an al-Qaeda financier named Hamza Ali Osman. His contact turned out to be Rossmiller – a municipal court judge for six years before accepting a job last September with the attorney general of Montana.
Most of Rossmiller’s work has focused on overseas suspects. By her count, she has handed over to the FBI more than 200 “packets” of information on terrorism trends and potential suspects, and at least eight people have been arrested, she said.
“It’s all about trying to make a best guess of what the intentions of any individual might be,” she said. “If they just want to be loudmouths, I leave them alone. They’re not worth my time.”
She draws no salary and says she doesn’t want one.
Rossmiller’s journey from private citizen to counterterrorism cybersleuth began on Sept. 11, 2001. She was transfixed and horrified by images of the attacks.
She dove into books about Islam and extremism. One night, she saw a news report about a website favored by extremists and decided to log on. The site was in Arabic, so she bought some translation software, then taught herself the language.
Rossmiller created her first online identity in March 2002, posing as an angry Middle Eastern male. All of the 30 identities she has assumed since then have been variations on that theme. Her characters spout anti-American rhetoric, e-mail beheading videos and exhort fellow extremists to be cautious in what they say on public Internet forums.
“You always have to give the impression that what you’re saying is real,” she said. “That takes a lot of time.”
Rossmiller’s other domestic triumph involved Spec. Ryan Anderson, a Muslim convert and National Guardsman from Washington state, who was convicted in military court of trying to give information on U.S. troop strength and tactics to al-Qaeda.
She came across Anderson on an extremist website in 2003. After seeing a message from a man calling himself Amir Abdul Rashid, she posted a phony call to jihad against the U.S. Rashid wrote back, saying he was “curious if a brother fighting on the wrong side could join or defect.”
Rashid, it turned out, was Anderson, and Rossmiller gave his name to authorities. Anderson was arrested in 2004 after he met with undercover agents and offered information on how to kill U.S. troops in Iraq.
Rossmiller’s terrorist-hunting might never have been exposed had it not been for the Anderson case. Called as a witness, she fought hard to keep her identity a secret. But Anderson’s right to confront his accuser won out.
The FBI, the Border Patrol and local police now regularly check on her safety, and her home is equipped with surveillance cameras. She carries a .38-caliber pistol for protection.
Roger Cressey, a former counterterrorism official in the Clinton and Bush administrations, said the FBI and CIA recognize the importance of Internet surveillance but lack the resources to process the staggering amount of data available – making someone like Rossmiller a valuable tool.
She is “an extreme version of the vigilance argument, that we all must be vigilant about what we see and hear,” Cressey said.
