Irish Independent Sunday June 29, 2003 Spy Rupert tells tale of intrigue, terror and semtex-stuffed toys  Liz Walsh SEMTEX-stuffed teddy bears. Skipping ropes lined with detonating cord. Beer kegs earmarked for bomb casings at IRA "theme" parks. "Stolen" car bombs exploding mysteriously on a boreen, driver unknown.  The tale of intrigue recited by American spy David Rupert in the opening days of the trial of alleged Real IRA leader Michael McKevitt was truly astonishing, often winding, occasionally humorous. And, like other Real IRA trials, the shadow of Omagh hung over the proceedings in the Special Criminal Court.  All eyes were on Rupert, a six foot eight inch, 22-stone giant of a man, as he emerged into the packed courtroom from behind a cordon of armed detectives on Monday morning to testify against McKevitt.  Rupert, four times married and three times bankrupt, had his first taste of Ireland in 1992, when he began dating Linda Vaughan, a lobbyist for the Florida State Senate and for Noraid.  In a soft American drawl, Rupert told the court he found Ireland "relaxing", like turning back the clock 40 years and "going home". Through Vaughan, he met prominent republicans including Joe O'Neill, a Republican Sinn Fein (RSF) member from Bundoran. Joe O'Neill found Rupert a willing listener as he talked him through his version of Irish republicanism.  Rupert made return visits to Ireland in July and December, 1993. Unknown to him however, the Special Branch was wondering about the identity of the burly Yank hanging around known republicans and asked the FBI.  In April 1994, Rupert was back in the Chicago office of his trucking firm when, out of the blue, FBI agent Ed Buckley walked in. Buckley wondered if he would be interested in supplying information on particular individuals and their links to support groups in the US.  According to Rupert, he turned Buckley down flat but swiftly changed his mind citing his "moral teachings" as the reason.  "I like to come here [Ireland]. He was offering to expense me for my trips, so I agreed to take him up on the issue," he told prosecutor George Bermingham SC in a matter-of-fact voice.  Rupert returned to Ireland later that year - this time as a spy - and "hung close" to Joe O'Neill. The following year, the FBI gave Rupert $8,500 to lease the Drowse Bar, in Leitrim. It had an adjoining caravan park, which Rupert referred to as "my IRA theme park" because of its large republican clientele.  Rupert began reporting back to the FBI and later also to the gardai, specifically to chief superintendent Dermot Jennings [now assistant commissioner]. But while the FBI  'McKevitt was taking copious notes and glancing frequently at the prosecution witness. Rupert, face averted, did not look back'  was paying him generous expenses, the gardai's offer was strictly mileage. Rupert was not impressed: "I just let it ride," he drawled.  Back in the Drowse Bar, Joe O'Neill approached Rupert and asked if he would set aside 10 or 12 beer kegs, allegedly for use as bomb casings. Rupert claims he noted the serial numbers and passed them on to the gardai.  In 1997, O'Neill had another request. This time he asked Rupert if could acquire some Semtex in the US, detonating cord and detonators. The Semtex, O'Neill allegedly suggested, could be stuffed into teddy bears, the cord hidden in "jump ropes", the detonators inside radios and the whole shebang forwarded to a school in Ballyshannon, Co Donegal where O'Neill's sister worked as a teacher.  Asked if he had complied, Rupert said no. In February 1997, he signed a formal contract with the FBI whereby he would be paid $2,500 monthly plus expenses. In return, he would continue supplying intelligence on dissident republicans. Rupert was now on the payroll.  During three days of direct examination, Rupert gave names, events, places, but was somewhat sketchy on dates. He sat face turned towards the bench, turning to counsel only when Mr Birmingham prodded him on his recall of certain events. "I'm coming to that," he said dismissively several times.  A few feet away 53-year-old McKevitt was taking copious notes and glancing frequently at the prosecution witness. Rupert, face averted, did not look back. The FBI team looked intently at their man in the witness box. With one exception, the FBI agents look remarkably like Middle American Evangelical Christians, all neat hairstyles and similar dress code.  From 1994 to 1999, David Rupert hung close to people associated with RSF and its military wing, the Continuity IRA - the "do nothings" as he referred to them. His impression was "let's talk about it, let's collect money for it, but let's not do anything about it because we might end up in jail".  There was, however, one exception - a man named Mickey Donnelly from Derry who Rupert met at an RSF Ard Fheis in Dublin. Mickey Donnelly, Rupert claimed, was "hardcore Continuity Army". His attitude was "let's do some damage". He was also gung ho to "shoot a cop". Donnelly, Rupert explained to the court, was one of the "hooded men" [internees ill-treated by the British Army in the Seventies] and it effected him badly.  Donnelly began talking of a new group - Oglaigh na hEireann - that was forming from the remnants of the Real IRA following the Omagh atrocity. The name Michael McKevitt cropped up.  At this stage, Rupert was also working - at the FBI's suggestion - for MI5, reporting to a British agent named Norman. On his own admission, Rupert was ferrying large sums of cash - up to $17,000 a go, from the US to Ireland.  When Donnelly suggested that Rupert meet the "higher ups" in the new organisation, Rupert reported this to MI5. "See what develops," his MI5 handler advised. Rupert said he agreed to meet Michael McKevitt, Seamus McGrane, Donnelly and another republican, Philip Kent.  And so it was that on a Sunday morning in September 1999, the American spy, the alleged leader of the Real IRA and the three others sat around the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel in Monaghan drinking tea and - according to Rupert - discussing military strategy.  McGrane, referred to as "Shay" was introduced to Rupert as head of training for "Oglaigh na hEireann". It didn't click with Rupert that "Shay" was short for Seamus - "I thought they were referring to Che Guevara," he told the court.  Rupert felt he and McKevitt "clicked" and "the meeting went real smooth". He claimed McKevitt spoke about a renewed armed campaign following the "tactical ceasefire" declared by the Real IRA after Omagh. The new organisation was a disparate group, comprising 98 per cent of the Continuity IRA, all of the Real IRA, some INLA and a few disaffected Provos.  According to Rupert, Michael McKevitt was very forthcoming about military strategy. Car bombs were passe - unless deployed in central London or against military targets. He allegedly spoke about Omagh being a 20/80 per cent operation: the Real IRA provided the car and built the bomb and left it to the Continuity to pick the target and deliver it.  "He said the boys should have just driven it out the country and let it go. But they drove it down the road and parked it and created the Omagh atrocity," said Rupert.  Before Omagh, the Real IRA built another bomb and left it to the Continuity to deliver with instructions to "use it" within two weeks. Three weeks elapsed without any word of the bomb. When the Real IRA went looking for it they were told someone had stolen the car, bomb and all.  Shrugging his shoulders, Rupert told the court he heard it "went off" on a small country road somewhere.  David Rupert was paid $1.25m (€1.7m) for intelligence gathering for the FBI and MI5, the court heard. In December 2000, he agreed to testify. He signed a new contract with the FBI giving him monthly payments of $20,000 plus a one-off payment for testifying.  Over the course of three days, David Rupert alleged that Michael McKevitt asked him to acquire weapons in the US and act as liaison for the new organisation. In short, he painted a picture of McKevitt as a man very much in charge of the Real IRA.  On Thursday afternoon, it was the turn of the defence. In the first hour, the defence established that 51-year-old Rupert was three times bankrupt with a trail of debtors in his wake. He reneged on loans from acquaintances and was charged in connection with "bad cheques".  And what were you driving during this period of financial hardship? Mr Hartnett enquired. A Silver Shadow Rolls Royce and a DeLorean perhaps? The Rolls was 15 years old, Rupert countered.  And how did the people of Rupert's hometown, Messina - a "hick town" counsel suggested - regard this thrice bankrupt swanning around in a Rolls, Mr Hartnett continued? The witness glared at counsel and indicated that he didn't really know. And no, he said, he could not recall saying the DeLorean was "built by a crook, driven by crooks".  Michael McKevitt is accused of membership of the IRA and also with directing that organisation, a charge that rests entirely on the evidence of David Rupert.  The trial continues tomorrow.