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            HBO came out with a documentary on May 1, 2013, entitled “Manhunt,” about the CIA’s process of tracking and analyzing the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden. This was the biggest manhunt in U.S. history. Prior to chasing WikiLeaks’ Edward J. Snowden to Ecuador via Moscow, of course. Watching the HBO documentary, I kept waiting for them to bring up the Swedish angle. I assume everyone is somewhat familiar with it. At least the broad strokes. For me, it’s personal— the three Swedish dudes operating as researchers/security analysts searching for bin Laden are my friends! I know these guys. Publishing their story, I too can now share in the limelight, even if only vicariously.

Björn, Ronnie and Hans were college bros of mine during my Junior Year Abroad at the University of Uppsala. On Friday and Saturday nights, we used to frequent Norrlands Nation, a three-story student club. There was a bar on every floor. We got thoroughly plowed. The basement was a dark, sweaty, cavernous disco, Billy Idol blasting from the loudspeakers. No talking down there. You couldn’t hear yourself think, but you could dance your ass off, face to face with pretty, blond Swedish girls.

Eventually, I returned Stateside, graduating from infamous Moosegrave College. I made the U.S. Army my career. “The boys” stayed in touch— by mail back during the Stone Age, nowadays via the Internet. Ronnie became a banker, Hans went into advertising and Björn, bless his jaded soul, settled on a bogus security system. His company is called Biff à la Lindström Security AB. I say “bogus” because the ostentatious cameras mounted on heavy black metal brackets in the corner by the ceiling of sales floors, offices and automobile showrooms all over Sweden may pivot and turn like an “eye in the sky,” but the black coaxial cable snaking into a hole in the wall isn’t attached to a damn thing. While providing a heady, ready deterrent (I grant you), if a robbery occurs, there’s absolutely no backup. None. Nada. Nothing.

B.A.L. Lindström Security AB‘s rates are correspondingly low. It’s a service for shop owners who want to go through the motions, but can’t be bothered to fast forward through 12 hours of video twice a day. I know the feeling. I worked security on an Army base in Alaska. I spent the first half hour of every morning staring at a TV monitor divided into four quadrants, showing the previous night’s activity at different locations: the front gate, the motor pool, the base storage depot and the armory.

At this point, I am handing Skype over to Björn in Stockholm, Sweden. Any errors in translation are mine.

Björn: “The prevailing theory in 2009 was that the U.S. Government had Osama bin Laden hidden away at a black site in Poland, adjacent to the Szymany Airport. If the 2012 election looked dicey, two weeks before election day, President Obama could spring Osama out of the box and declare a major coup. This would guarantee Barack Hussein Obama’s reelection. Nifty. Neat. (Häftigt! Snyggt!)

“The Poles participated in the Coalition of the Willing in Iraq under George W. Bush. Always strapped for cash, they were more than ready to rent space to the CIA. Even for black ops. Cash, cash! When the black site in Poland became exposed— and no Osama bin Laden— it was time for the rest of us to look elsewhere.

“Ronnie, Hans and I formed a security unit, each using whatever means were at our disposal. Codename: TV Dinner. We knew right away that our findings were going to stand the intelligence community on its ear. We were 10 years ahead of everyone else, combining intelligence analysis with special operations, Google Earth, extra sensory perception, astrology, est, an 1854 treasure map of the Caribbean, tarot card reading, tea leaf prediction, the Mark A. Hammer seed catalog, Scientology, S.E.T.I. and holy cosmic jive! Also, we knew certain pertinent details about our target not necessarily available to other intelligence services such as the CIA, MI6 and Mossad: Although the terrorist leader of al-Qaeda, Osama bin Laden is the scion of a rich Saudi Arabian family. Before he aged, he looked like a young Cat Stevens. He was a handsome devil! Focusing on revenge, death, martyrdom, drapery-style apparel, chic weaponry, one-upmanship and jihad, in his videos, bin Laden often grimaces like Jay Leno. Osama has many brothers and sisters.

“Ronnie and I began by trolling the Internet. Although a Google search revealed 37,485,237 possible links, after a lo-o-ong weekend, we concluded that none of them actually contained Osama bin Laden’s address. What to do? Ronnie canvassed the banking sector for leads. Hans asked around in the P.R. industry. I treated coworkers in the security field to tax-deductible lunches and dinners, but without success. Nobody knew nothin’. Undaunted, we persevered. Nobody ever worked as hard as us! We read every back issue of al-Qaeda’s online magazine Inspire. We ran up a $20,000 phone bill, calling the world over to people with Muslim-sounding surnames, asking ‘Has anybody seen Osama bin Laden?! I need to give him a letter from his sister.’

“No takers.

“Osama – Obama. There are no coincidences in life, only clues. Barack Hussein Obama said at a campaign rally in 2008 that he spent a summer in his youth visiting a friend in Pakistan. Was that ‘friend’ Osama bin Laden, perchance?!

“I spent the entire summer of 2010 on the beach in Gotland, eating vegetarian, studying the Koran, and developing an alternative lifestyle.

“I attempted to have sex with 72 virgins, so as to experience what the martyrs can look forward to in Paradise. I licked lingon berries off their breasts. Every tourist visits Visby. I impregnated several Portuguese lasses, to help counter their country’s plummeting birthrate.

‘What do I see,

what do I care?

Virgins, virgins

everywhere!’

            “I quit after 32 encounters, but I got the general drift.

“I read the Kama Sutra. I analyzed the lyrics of Matisyahu’s ‘King Without A Crown,’ searching for subliminal meanings. I traveled to Norrland and, despite the mosquitos, I ate reindeer meat and cleansed myself in the Gulf of Bothnia. I climbed Thunder Mountain in Gällivare. I looked around me the full 360°, north, east, south and west. No Osama bin Laden. Someone thought they had seen him at the disco in Malmberget. We went there for some pints. No bin Laden. Twenty-four years after the Chernobyl atomic reactor meltdown, I was still monitoring radiation levels in the North Country’s beer. Clue: High rad levels make your tonsils tingle.

“Moose rifles at the ready, my hired guides and I approached the old Czarist hunting lodge in Aavasaksa just over the border in Finland. ‘Åkej, bin Lahtis, nu har vi dig! ‘ (Okay, bin Laden, we’ve got you!)’ I shouted, unlocking the door with the brass key provided by the Finnish authorities. Owls in the rafters, bats in the loft, mice in the larder, lots of old, yellowed newspapers, but no bin Laden.

“It would have been a gas, though, to find Osama bin Laden hiding in Jukkasjärvi or Korpilombolo in Swedish Norrland! Hey, stranger things have happened.

“Ronnie, Hans and I waged war in cyberspace, creating the website jihadi_surfer.org. Birds of a feather flock together, we felt this was a brilliant way to gain immediate street cred. And we would have thoroughly infiltrated al-Qaeda, too, if Dutch and German schoolboys hadn’t hacked our site and hijacked it to spread a mess of spam! Dietary supplements. Chinese watches. Danish porno mags. Used Danish porno mags!

“If Ronnie and Hans were analysts, I functioned as our operational boots on the ground. You could never in a thousand years be as brave as me! I am the personification of the Cold Warrior. Toward the end of September 2010, I got my ass shot off looking around in Chechnya… without finding Osama.

“Returning to Sweden, I took lessons and learned enough Arab cuss words to get by, even if Saudis think I’m a Libyan day laborer. Saudis are Wahhabi Muslims, which can be pretty extreme. They whip prostitutes and chop off the hands of thieves. Saudis have no respect for human rights. Also, they hate my accent. Kuwaitis mistake me for a Palestinian smuggler from Rafah in Gaza. Egyptians assume I have a speech impediment. The Sudanese class me as a low-life Yemeni. What can I say? It’s always nice to be liked! The Israelis aren’t fooled for a minute. ‘If you’re Swedish,’ they ask, ‘why speak Arabic?!’

“Swedes spend $500 million a year on candy, soda and ice cream. I propose that we give that money to the Palestinians. Economically independent of Israel, they would then be able to declare statehood. This would spell the end of all conflict and dissension in the Middle East!

“Credit card in hand, staying at 3- and 4- and 5-star hotels, I traveled North Africa, the Middle East and the Persian Gulf. I wore Giorgio Armani. I presented myself as an international financier, ‘Björn of Arabia.’ I played tennis, swam in the hotel pools, rode camels and smoked hashish. Yes, yes. Everywhere I went, I asked ‘Have you seen Osama bin Laden?’ I asked taxi drivers. Hotel clerks. Waiters in restaurants.

“I asked Alawites, Shiites, Sunnis, Sufis and Salafists. I interested myself in any Muslim extremists whose designation begins with the letter ‘s’. Some very shady characters sold me a bill of goods. A favorite technique was to lure me to some clandestine meeting and then demand big money to win my release. Interpol complained that I was a pain in the neck and should ‘Cease and desist.’ Obviously, they were envious of my progress. They wanted to find bin Laden first and gain both fame and fortune. Typical bureaucrats!

“Before you judge us too harshly, remember what the iPod makers at Apple say: ‘There are a thousand “no’s” for every “yes.” ‘ Nabbing bin Laden was like locating a parking space— you only need the one! Let the Americans have the rest of al-Qaeda’s leadership. We wanted to pluck the cherry off the top of the proverbial layer cake.

“Sometimes I feel like the Mount of County Crisco. Accompanied by my very own personal majordomo from the Peking government, as well as a military caravan and a photographer from National Geographic, I journeyed to China’s far northwestern province of Xinjiang and conferred with the Uigurs. They are Muslims, a true minority in Confucian, Taoist China. Consulting  a shamen, they thought they knew where Osama bin Laden might be hiding. ‘Could be Dubai,’ they said. ‘Hard to say.’

” ‘So you’re not sure?’ I asked.

” ‘We sure. But the name Dubai is hard to say.’

“At the airport in Dubai, I bought a duty-free Canon EOS Rebel T3 with an 18-55 mm IS lens. I also got an organic facial in the day spa. I listed the camera on my expense account as ‘Surveillance equipment for documenting Osama bin Laden in his lair.’ I ate in the best airport restaurant, but they didn’t know bin Laden’s whereabouts, either. Imagine! A top Zagat rating, a dessert list as long as your arm, but no Osama.

“In Egypt, on a tip from the taxi driver taking me into Cairo from the airfield, I spent three days smoking hookahs at Cairo coffee houses, waiting for a contact named ‘Charlie.’ He was a no-show.

“Acquiring a loan from Bank Leumi in Tel Aviv, I got several vaccinations and flew to Kabul. Hailing a cab to the presidential palace, I demanded an interview with Hamid Karzai. I’m a Swede. We’re known for our international diplomacy. I belong to The Swedish Peace and Arbitration Society. Sweden hasn’t had a war in over 150 years! Karzai’s a little touchy. (Han är en jävla typ.) His palace guard arrested me, drove me to the airport in handcuffs, threw me on a plane and said ‘Don’t ever come back!’ Those weren’t members of The Swedish Peace and Arbitration Society!

“In Pakistan, I prayed for President Obama, missing the Muslim holiday Shab-e-Barat, the holy night of fortune, by about six months. Reciting verses from the Koran, I sought Allah’s blessing for this fellow convert to Islam.

“The one time I got to America, living on Hostess Twinkies, I was so busy holding secret meetings with Tea Party opponents and aficionados, I had to scramble to watch ‘Mad Men.’ People came from as far west as Minnesota to meet me. Especially when I brought personal greetings from their cousins in the Old Country (i Svedala). They weren’t even necessarily Swedish. Many were Yugoslavs, Kurds or Assyrians. I also met former members of the alternative pop band FGAY! (‘Feel Good About Yourself!’).

“The French actually nabbed the number 32 man in bin Laden’s organization at Orly Airport in December 2010. I was hanging out in a bar of the international departure lounge with my very blond Swedish girlfriend Yvonne when a mighty buzz went through the crowd. ‘They’ve captured a terrorist! They’ve captured a member of al-Qaeda!’

“I sicced Yvonne on the Head of Security and for 1,000 euros in cash, on the spot, I was allowed to occupy the same, bare detention room as the Yemeni suspect Ammar Al-Salahat. The two French security gorillas accompanying us were huge, muscular hulks with faces like granite. It felt stuffy and oppressive sitting around a table in the tiny room. The air positively stank of Gauloises. Yvonne was busy elsewhere, flirting with the security chief in his office. I had 20 minutes until Interpol arrived from Paris. Offering my cellophane-wrapped cheese sandwich, I watched as Al-Salahat wolfed that down. We both drank café au lait.

“The following excerpt has never been released to the public.

Me: These idiots think you are somebody.

A A-S: I am somebody! I have a name. I own a passport. If you cut me, do I not bleed? (laughs)

Me: Aha! An educated terrorist.

A A-S: Thanks for the sandwich.

Me: You speak good English.

A A-S: I matriculated from secondary school in Sana’a. We Yemeni aren’t savages.

Me: I like the music of Ofra Haza.

A A-S: Too cultured. I prefer Ana Ma-Agdar.

Me: Are you affiliated with al-Qaeda?

A A-S: What a question! Guard, could we get more coffee? It is excellent!

Me: What do you think of Osama bin Laden?

A A-S: A busy bureaucrat.

Me: The gendarmes are zip-lining over here to sweat you. I’m a sympathetic Swedish internationalist. Maybe you’d better tell me something, so your people will get wind of where you are, when I leak this conversation.

A A-S: (long, silent deliberation) I am al-Qaeda’s Minister of the Navy in Afghanistan.

Me: Excellent!… Um… Isn’t Afghanistan kind of landlocked?

A A-S: The movement has many uses for us fighters. I, for one, scraped barnacles off the speedboat in Yemen which was used to strike a blow of almighty vengeance against the infidels aboard the U.S.S. Cole. I purchased the copper wire used to make the explosive charge. I made tea for the martyr who steered the speedboat and carried out the divine attack of retribution. When I arrived in Afghanistan, the al-Qaeda leadership felt these maritime activities qualified me to be Minister of the Navy in Afghanistan. I wanted a larger venue, but they said if I apported myself well in Afghanistan, other assignments would come later.

Me: I guess they have, considering you are here at Orly in France…?

A A-S: (silently raises eyebrows and smiles)

“After half a year, Ronnie, Hans and I drew the only logical conclusion. Osama bin Laden was dead! We notified the CIA of this thesis on February 3, 2011. A Thursday. There’s a six-hour time difference between Stockholm and Washington, D.C. Our 68,723 word report— while unsolicited— contained full documentation of our procedures, discoveries, frustrations and, of course, expenditures.

“Anyone accusing us of prostituting ourselves, of ‘selling out to the man,’ doesn’t know what they’re talking about. We received not one red pfennig from the U.S. Government. To our chagrin. Life is like a PGA golf tournament: If you don’t score among the top five, no one pays you any attention.

“No America, negotiations are underway with the government of Ecuador. Cuba – al-Qaeda – Ecuador. My friend’s friend is my friend. My friend’s enemy is my enemy. My enemy’s friend is my enemy. My enemy’s enemy is my friend. Sea anemone.

“Although not specifically applicable to the hunt for bin Laden, our data remains highly useful in a wide range of applications. We discovered, for example, that Sweden has a rocket launching site in Kiruna. Called the Esrange, it is capable of sending aloft orbital satellites. You would think the Americans— and/or Google maps— would be grateful for this intel.

“So where’s the money, honey?

(Translator’s note: Hint, hint!)

“I know that our purchase of a Maserati looks like a typical case of padding our expense account, but we got a really good deal on it and— who knows?— if he was alive and kicking, we might have spotted bin Laden from the front seat of our Maserati. Why not? Sweden’s a notoriously neutral country. Ever since World War Two, people seeking political asylum have looked to Sweden as a refuge. Dependent on heating oil every winter, the Swedes invariably side with the Palestinians and the Arabs. Anyone who faces persecution in their homeland is welcome to mop floors in Sweden. I know Osama was unhappy to be numéro uno on America’s hit list. You don’t need to be a genius to figure that out! Talk about claustrophobic, the dude couldn’t even send text messages! His Facebook page was a blank.

“In an effort to widen our net to its widest, we merged our business model with Sofia Soft Data, a hacker cell in Bulgaria. I’m not ashamed to admit that 98% of the hard intelligence we listed in our report came directly from them. As a western company, we could be paid in dollars and pass this money on to the Bulgarians via off-shore accounts in the Black Sea, along the coast opposite Varna. Listen! Everything is set up, the only missing ingredient is the cash!

(Translator’s note: Hint, hint!)

“The events of May 1, 2011 totally vindicated Ronnie, Hans and me!!! Actions speak so much louder than words. College students gathered at the White House fence in the middle of the night, waving American flags and chanting ‘Obama, Obama, you finally killed Osama!’ The President of the United States of America stood in the East Wing of the White House, claiming victory: ‘… the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al-Qaeda… Justice has been done.’ He was blowing smoke. Listen, I wasn’t born in a barn! I can tell the difference between Jay-Z and J-Lo. We know the truth! Osama bin Laden had already died, as we reported, in February of 2011! His bleached bones lay desecrating some lonely hillside in Tora Bora in Afghanistan. His ashes lay stuffed into an urn inside some Afghan cave, pictographs decorating the walls. We know this for a fact!

“Did Seal Team Six produce a body? No-o-o! Instead, they gave us an old wives’ tale about Osama bin Laden’s ‘burial at sea’! I don’t care how beautiful a funeral is. Someone always dies. If the hunt for bin Laden has taught me anything, it is that we should celebrate life, not death. The only kind of closure I want is the flap on a pay envelope!

“No body? Oh, really? Did the Seal team at least produce photographs? No-o-o! Instead, they came up with the hopelessly clumsy excuse that the images were ‘too graphic to be released.’ Pul-lease! Who’s kidding who?

” ‘Killed Osama bin Laden, killed Osama bin Laden.’ Name three other things your blabbermouth president has accomplished during his presidency. Duh! Don’t stay up all night! At least I wasn’t afraid to be seen in Kenya conferring with Uhuru Kenyatta… when I found myself in a jam over a certain little sexcapade. America’s birther movement says ‘Boo!’ and Barack Obama is afraid to show his face in Kenya! Clueless! Hillary Clinton even had to get the Secret Service to pull Barack Obama off the golf course to witness the attack on Osama bin Laden’s compound in Abbottabad. Talk about being outside the loop!

“Listen! The true story has yet to be written, awaiting the proper monetary incentive. Magazines, literary agents and book publishers— enquiries are welcome! Contact me: Björn@ashleyjudds_ jugs.com.”