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Rage of the Random Actor Live Addendum
Chapter 22
Suicide Attackers, Start with Random Actors

DK (7-4-06) "Playbook" of suicide attacker cell found on computer Details of the Bali attack and how it was orchestrated provide insight into the tactical preparation for an attack and that more unconventional targets were selected because they were locales where tourists were more likely to frequent.  Article

DK (4-18-06) Moussaoui, only 9-11 convicted 9-11 conspirator is a Random Actor whose life follows the familiar pattern: irrational motive, broken home, high fearful trait may indicate he is paranoid schizophrenic. Court room testimony in the sentencing phase by those who knew Moussaoui growing up as well as mental health professionals who interviewed him while in custody all point to his two Random Actor traits (extreme UNPREDICTABLE and high FEARFUL).
Article - Psychologist states he is schizophrenic
Article - Family and friends reveal his Random Actor traits
Article - More on Moussaoui's background


DK (4-11-2006) London Tube Random Actor attackers found each other through internet and NOT through al Qaeda 
The Observer, a British newspaper, reported that a government report will demonstrate that the teens and young adults who committed the attack were not led by al Qaeda. It is this kind of individual act committed by Random Actor teens and young adults led by an older adult that poses a serious threat in the United States. Article

DK (02-23-0-2006) Lead Planner of Munich Olympic attacks: Terrorist but probably not a Random Actor  Abu Daoud in an AP report expresses attitudes that indicate he was clearly acting as a terrorist to accomplish a political end but he wasn't a Random Actor. He states that suicide attacks are unconventional (UNPREDICTABLE) but not something he would have likely perpetrated.  Article

DK (10-04-05):

What drove two Chechen sisters to become suicide bombers?

Beslan Mother's choice: become a suicide bomber or your children will die

Sisters in arms
What drove two Chechen sisters to become suicide bombers? A year after Rosa Nagayeva was blown up in the Beslan school siege, and Amnat brought down a plane over Russia, Nick Paton Walsh looks for clues in Grozny

Guardian   Thursday September 1, 2005

As dusk fell on the first day of the Beslan school siege, the head of the terrorists began rowing with the two masked female suicide bombers in his group. One of them had, according to one witness, refused to shoot a boy hostage. Ruslan Khuchbarov, who had a remote trigger for their explosive belts, shoved them into a corner and blew them both up.
A week earlier, a woman now known as Passenger 28 boarded flight 1303 from Moscow to Volgograd. Forty-one minutes into the flight, she detonated a device that brought down the plane and its 43 passengers near the town of Tula, 200km south of Moscow.

The plane blasts and the Beslan tragedy, which began a year ago today, betrayed the ruthlessness of Chechen extremism. Ninety-eight died in two simultaneous blasts on airliners leaving Moscow; 331 hostages perished in Beslan. But the two attacks were linked by more than ideology and a desire to terrify. According to Russian prosecutor, DNA tests identify one Beslan suicide bomber and Passenger 28 as sisters from Chechnya: Rosa Nagayeva, 28, and Amnat Nagayeva, 30.

Why Amnat and Rosa decided to sacrifice their lives to kill 420 schoolchildren, parents and air passengers is a secret they have taken to the grave. But its roots must lie in the southern highlands of Chechnya where they grew up, and the ruins of Grozny where they worked together as market traders.

Sitting in a cafe in the Chechen capital, their youngest brother Islam, 23, and older sister, Asma, 43, refuse to accept not only that their sisters carried out Russia's worst series of terrorist attacks, but even that they are dead.

"They are still alive," Islam insists. Asma adds: "I lived with them and knew them. I would have suspected something or they would have shown some motivation to do that." The pair maintain that their sisters left Grozny for Baku in Azerbaijan on August 22 last year, a few days before the planes blew up, intending to stock up on the schoolbooks, satchels and uniforms they sold in Grozny's market. Asked why they have not seen Rosa and Amnat since, they speculate that they may have been detained by Azeri customs officials on the border. "One local prosecutor told us their passports were probably stolen and used by someone else," says Asma.

Rosa and Amnat were born in the southern Chechen village of Tevzani. Today, it is one of the most dangerous places in Chechnya; in the mid-70s, it was calm and beautiful. Yet the village's poverty led their father, Salman, to move the family to the Russian town of Rostov on Don, where they lived on the farm where he worked. "We had a house there, and those of us at home at the time slept in the same room," recalls Islam. Salman died aged 53 from a suspected heart attack, Islam said, leaving the devout Muslim Taus, 63, to tend for her 11 children.

Even in Rostov, opportunities were few. Despite learning Ukrainian, German and developing a passion for reading, Amnat left school aged 15. Rosa followed suit. "From age 17, Rosa periodically had seizures," Islam recalls. "Nobody could diagnose what it was, but we thought it was epilepsy." Rosa found some medication for the illness in Rostov, yet the treatment lapsed when they returned to Tevzani in the early 90s.

Back in Chechnya, they found their home town in the grip of the unemployment and chaos that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union. "We thought that, like Ukraine and other parts of the Soviet Union, Chechnya would also get its independence," Asma says.

They stayed while the republic collapsed into its first war in 1994. That bloody bid for independence led to a peace deal with the Yeltsin administration in August 1996, but only after Grozny had been carpet-bombed and an estimated 73,000 Chechens and 5,700 Russian soldiers died.

News of the capital's devastation reached them via refugees and local TV. Asma describes how the girls in the family cried when they saw "our beautiful city" in ruins. "We could see with our own eyes what was happening. Of course, anyone gets angry when they see normal people being killed."

It was during the republic's brief spell of independence, before the second war in 1999, that Amnat first showed her business prowess. "Amnat was particularly good at knowing what would sell," says Asma. With the money she earned from selling basics like pasta, cooking oil, shampoo and washing powder, Amnat would buy the family clothes. Trade went well, until raids by Shamil Basayev into neighbouring Dagestan, and a series of blasts in Moscow, sparked the second war in September 1999.

Tevzani faced massive aerial bombardment by the Russian military, killing many civilians. Yet it was not until after Russia had retaken Chechnya that the Nagayev family experienced its first loss. The brutality of the second war was surpassed by years of zachistki, or "clean-up operations", as the Russian military rounded up men with separatist connections or merely those of fighting age, interrogating them, beating them, and often executing them. Memorial, the human rights group that documents abuses on only a third of the territory of Chechnya, estimates that since the second war ended in 2000, nearly 3,000 people have been abducted. Most are thought to be dead.

"Zachistki started in Tevzani in 2000," says Asma. "They would surround the village with trucks and armoured personnel carriers. You'd look out and see men combing the streets with AK47s. They went from house to house, taking gold, money, arms. They did not touch the women but took away the men."

Among them were Zaur Dagayev, 29, and his friend, Uvais Nagayev, 32, Rosa and Amnat's brother. They were at Zaur's home on April 27 2001, when Russian troops from the 45th division stationed nearby came to the house. "They surrounded them and led them off, presumably to their barracks," says Asma.

Memorial documents that the pair were that evening led by the troops to a graveyard in Tevzani. Uvais and Zaur were forced to lie down among the gravestones, and the troops then opened fire, killing Zaur outright.

"It was dark and Uvais could not see what had happened to Zaur," says Islam. "He pretended to be dead." The following morning, Islam says, Uvais returned injured to Zaur's home. "That morning the 45th came for him again at Zaur's house," says Asma. "They bound his hands and took him away."

Memorial's records confirm its version of events, but suggest it took four days for the Russian military to return for Uvais. The Nagayevas heard nothing, and were hysterical with worry. "We searched for him everywhere - including at the 45th's barracks," says Asma.

Amnat began to despair. She knew a woman from the town of Gudermes whose husband and son had disappeared, and had paid a "mediator" - usually someone either in or connected to the security services - to find out what had happened.

"We found someone like that," says Asma. "Amnat went to him and paid him $200. He said he would look for Uvais and find him in months. He had to be with the FSB [the Russian security service] as he had connections. Who else could we trust?"

The pair says their contact came up with no information, yet Memorial's account says the mediator told them Uvais had been tortured into confessing to some unspecified crimes. Finally, his corpse had been dumped and blown up with explosives. Without the body, however, Islam and Asma remain hopeful. "Sometimes people end up in jail in Siberia under a different name," says Islam.

Tevzani's ordeal did not end there, the zachistki and some aerial bombardment continuing in 2002, causing residents to flee. That year Amnat and Rosa moved back to Grozny to resume their trading.

"They got a flat near the market," says Asma. It was then that their fate took shape. "I went to see them occasionally," says Asma. "All they did was work, and when they came home they ate, washed, slept and sometimes watched TV."

Trade was going well. Working near them at another market stall were Miriam Taburova, 27, and Satsita Dzherbikhanova, 37. The four became friends and moved in together, sharing the $30-a-month rent. The windows were glassless and covered with plastic film, and they slept on two beds that were little more than blankets stacked on top of boxes.

In August last year, they were gearing up for their busiest time of the year, the return to school. Another purchasing trip to Baku beckoned, Asma says. The four left together, and, it appears, died together. Dzherbikhanova boarded a plane to Sochi moments before Amnat took her seat on flight 1303, detonating a device that caused her plane, bound for the southern resort of Sochi, to fall off the radar and crash near Rostov on Don three minutes after 1303 crashed. Taburova died in Beslan, blown up alongside Rosa on the evening of the first day. While some witnesses recall how the two masked women in Beslan showed some compassion, another recalled how one of them threatened to shoot the three people sitting next to anyone caught using a mobile phone.

What drove Amnat and Rosa to become suicide bombers? Militants talk of "black widows" - women broken by the loss of a husband or brother, and seeking revenge. The Russian FSB paints a less idealistic picture. It suggests such women are recruited by criminal gangs who promise to forgive a family debt in exchange for their services. One prosecutor has suggested women are sometimes raped on video. The tape is then used to ensure the woman is ostracised from Chechen society, then shamed into taking her own life.

As for Islam and Asma, they will not even entertain the possibility that their sisters were capable of suicide, let alone murder.


The Times August 20, 2005
Mother's choice: become a suicide bomber or your children will die

After almost a year in hospital, one woman tells the story of her decisive moments with hostage-takers

AFTER 11 operations and almost a year in hospital, Larissa Kudziyeva’s face is still severely disfigured, her injured arm too weak to work.

The 41-year-old accountant wears dark glasses and drapes her hair over one cheek to mask the scars left by the grenade blast. Her blouse just covers the wound that nearly severed her right arm.

Yet she cannot believe her luck as she prepares to take her son, Zaurbek, back to school a year after armed men took them and 1,200 others hostage in Middle School No 1 in the North Ossetian town of Beslan.

Perhaps it was because of her striking looks that the hostage-takers singled her out as she tried to protect Zaurbek, then 7, and Medina, her 20-year-old daughter. Perhaps it was because she was wearing black to mourn the death of her husband a few months before.

She cannot explain exactly why one of the hostage-takers, calling himself Abdullah, took her aside on September 2, the second day of the siege, and made his spine-chilling offer. He said that Zaurbek, Medina and any other relatives could walk free. All she had to do was to strap on a belt of explosives and become a shakhidka, or suicide bomber, in support of their demands that Russia withdraw from neighbouring Chechnya.

Dumbfounded, Mrs Kudziyeva asked if she could have time to think. “Go and sit. You all have time,” she remembers Abdullah saying.

Back in the sports hall with most of the other hostages, she told them about Abdullah’s offer. “They said that maybe I should do it and then the terrorists will let us go,” she recalled.

Mrs Kudziyeva never had time to give her answer. The siege ended the next day when Russian special forces stormed the school in a barrage of gunfire and explosions that killed 331 people, more than half of them children.

Unconscious for five days, she spent most of the next 11 months in hospital.

A year on, however, as official investigators struggle to explain what happened, she has returned home to provide a unique insight into the personalities and aims of the hostage-takers. “I just want people to know what happened in the school, because people ought to know the truth,” she said.

Mrs Kudziyeva was one of the only hostages to establish a working relationship with her captors — a relationship forged, she thinks, when she shouted for help while tending a wounded male hostage.

Abdullah told her to shut up and put his AK47 to her forehead, but she grabbed the barrel and screamed: “Stop play-acting in front of these scared women and children! Your Chechen women give birth in our hospitals and your children stay in our sanitoria.”

Abdullah replied: “Those are not our women and children. They are the spawn of Kadyrov,” referring to the Chechen President assassinated last year. But he backed off nonetheless. Emboldened, Mrs Kudziyeva approached two other hostage-takers, Ali and Ibrahim, to ask if she could take children to get water and go to the lavatory.

Ali, who also called himself “the Press Secretary”, said that she reminded him of his wife, who was killed in an air raid on a Chechen village. He said that his real name was Baisangur. When she asked how long they would be held, he said: “Until the last federal official leaves Chechnya, you will have everything you need.”

Mrs Kudziyeva says that Ali disappeared after the second day, but she later found rucksacks stuffed with food and even toiletries. “They wanted to stay longer than three days,” she said.

At one point a young boy whom she took to the toilet asked Abdullah for help undoing his trousers. “See, he thinks you are a person, not a bandit,” she said. “I’m not a bandit, I’m a terrorist,” he replied.

He told her that Ossetian women were beautiful and that the Chechens would come and take them away in a truck. “I told him they should use an airplane for such beauties,” she recalled. “I wanted to make him talk.” The next day he took her aside and asked if she was Ingush — a mostly Muslim ethnic group whose women often wear black. She said that she was not. He then proposed that she became a suicide bomber.

In hindsight, Mrs Kudziyeva says, she knows that she could not trust her captors. Yet her relationship with them may have helped to save her and several children. On the siege’s third day, she persuaded Ibrahim to let her move a dozen children into an exercise room next to the sports hall, which was cooler and had a small bathroom attached.

After the first explosion of the attempted rescue started a fire in the sports hall, Ibrahim led her with Medina, Zaurbek and several other children into the school’s canteen.

It was then that she saw two special forces soldiers coming through the window. Ibrahim was close to her, but fired only at the soldiers. He then threw two hand grenades, one of which landed a metre from her.

She threw herself on Zaurbek and Medina, absorbing the force of the blast in her right arm and cheek. When she came round on September 8, a doctor told her that she should consider it her new birthday.

“Everything is a miracle — that I can see and that I managed to shield my children,” she said. “I was halfway in the grave and I pulled myself out.”