Victoria Nuland was hanged at Guantanamo Bay Thursday afternoon after telling a fellow detainee that Admiral Crandall was a “cowardly wimp” who lacked the “balls” to execute or order the execution of someone of her distinction and prominence. She also boasted, through deceit or delusion, she had surrendered to JAG voluntarily because “President Obama” wanted her on the inside to gather intelligence on GITMO activities. “I can leave anytime I want, today even, and there’s nothing anyone here can do to stop me,” Nuland boasted.
Detainees at Camp Delta’s “death row” typically spend their last days in isolation and have no contact with even their nearest neighbors. They have no amenities or privileges and leave their cells under heavy guard twice weekly to shower. However, overcrowding and JAG’s reluctance to methodize same-day executions—hang them immediately upon conviction—have led to inmates mingling in corridors, passing notes, and speaking to one another through air vents discreetly.
Nuland didn’t know the meaning of “discretion” and wanted the inhabitants to understand that her freedom, unlike theirs, was only a phone call away. “One call, one call to Biden or Obama, that’s all it takes and I’m out of here. You can’t go home, but I can. I can leave this place whenever I want, today even,” Nuland told an inmate.
A guard overheard Nuland’s bragging and reported her to the watch commander, who reportedly informed Admiral Crandall that Nuland’s behavior had become intolerable and disruptive.
Admiral Crandall honored her with a personal visit.
“So, word on the street is you can leave GITMO today, detainee Nuland. I’ve thought about this and decided you’re right: you leave today.”
The color drained from Nuland’s face. “No, no, you said the sixteenth. You promised. Today’s only the eleventh,” Nuland said.
“I promised you nothing, detainee Nuland. I said ‘tentatively’ the sixteenth, and tentative means whatever I say it means. And it means now,” the admiral said.
Two hours later, Nuland stood atop the gallows quaking in fear with a rope around her neck and terror in her eyes. She did not answer when the admiral asked if she had final words, as if fear had sucked the breath from her mouth.
“Last chance,” the admiral said.
Nuland seemed to muster a bit of courage. She straightened her body and took a deep breath.
“I pledge allegiance to Obama—”
“Hell of a lot of good he did for you,” the admiral quipped, nodding his head as he watched Nuland’s soon-to-be lifeless body dangling from the rope and gasping for air.
At the utterance of Obama’s name, he had ordered the hangman to open the door underneath Nuland’s feet.
She was pronounced dead three minutes later.