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PART II BOOK What It’s Like to Chill Out With Whom the Rest of the World Considers As The Most Ruthless Men in the World : Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator

[B]There is one more sough of significant event that occurred to me during my stay on the Budva coast. Darko was extremely insistent one friend of his “read my palm.” You guys just aren’t going to believe this, and I can’t be 100% certain because I only met this man who read my palm once, but I could swear it was Goran Hadzic (!) He was dressed like an old 1960s “hippie” with some old ripped blue jeans and old dirty T-shirttoo. He had long straggly hair but I( could never forget his tall drawn out thin pail nose and face. I did not want anyone to “read my palm” because as a staunch Orthodox Christian chick, it was against my religion to do have my palm read. But I gave in to Darko’s persistence for this man to “read my palm.” I really did not agree with much of which he told me, he took a long time to read my palm, like about for 45 minutes and I really wanted to go across the street swimming instead. But this man told me I had a “strong lifeline” on my palm. After that I never saw him again. And I think he also gave me a business card; the same one that the BBS displays on their website of “quantum energy practice/ alternative medicine,” and I definitely remember the care bearing three Greek Letters “Alpha or Delta” like on the card (like a triangle, that letter. in the internet news media. I lost it a long time ago. Before retiring for the evening I went for a small walk around the corner from the hotel to buy some snacks; there was a small store there. I never felt endangered at any time by anyone. During my stay in Montenegro I walked to the store myself almost daily buying drinks and other items I could enjoy privately in my room at night. I never noticed previously to that evening’s walk just how many persons actually were vacationing from Western Europe in Budva the fall 2002 like me. After promenading to the store, upon returning to the hotel, a German man sitting outside the hotel and speaking in broken English introduced himself. When I told him that I was from New Jersey in the United States he became extremely interested and warmly said he is pleased I was able to enjoy the area. I replied, “I was tired and needed to retire.” Saying he understood he returned to his card game. We had the usual dinner at which time Bojana was overcome with a terrible toothache. I told her I’d pay for the filling tomorrow; Darko knew a dentist ten meters from Kosovo‘s border. Tomorrow we‘d swim there and have Bojana‘s tooth looked at. The town we went to the next day possessed an ethnic Albanian majority and organized crime was everywhere. We awoke early as to get Bojana to the dentist. This is actually where the Montenegrin bank had refused to exchange our money for Euros. Managing cash was difficult in Serbia and Montenegro owing to that the national currency in Serbia was still dinars and in Montenegro it was Euros. Most businessman preferred either Euros or American dollars, but one never knew which. Upon parking, Darko led the way down the busy street towards the dentist who I remember being an ethnic Albanian man. Apparently, they visited this dentist previously and he was extremely friendly. Not at any time did any ethnic Albanians cause me, Darko or Bojana any problems because I was American and they were Serb. The dentist was going to take a while and since the bank would not exchange our American dollars for Euros, we could buy neither lunch nor anything else and we all possessed a ravenous hunger for lunch. Ignoring Darko’s warnings not to go wondering myself, I left the dentist office under the pretense of going for a walk while Bojana had her dental work completed. Before Darko could catch me I was gone. I walked up the main street about one mile and began asking people in English where I could exchange United States currency for Euros. I came upon a well dressed ethnic Albanian high school student, a girl speaking perfect English who told me to walk up the street about another half mile and when I see men selling the cigarettes outside on a bridge table, ask them to do the deed; I did. The girl asked me about America saying her greatest wish was to study in New York City one day. When I told her about my experience at the New School for Social Research, being dismissed for my anti NATO views on the Kosovo war she replied to me, “maybe she was wrong about wanting to study in Manhattan.” I made my way to the table with about five ethnic Albanian men hanging about selling cigarettes and asked them in English if they could exchange money for me; they did. They were definitely organized crime. They took my wet cash, examined the bills, one man walked into an apartment building with my cash while I merely waited. He didn‘t rob me and returned with my Euros. Surprisingly, I found everyone in both Serbia and Montenegro very honorable in their business dealings; even if those dealings are organized crime. Upon receiving my Euros from the men, I walked away back to see if Bojana was through with the dentist; she was. I excitedly told Darko that I had successfully managed to exchange American dollars for Euros thinking he’d be pleased with me; he wasn’t. Darko was always very protective of me. Instead of commending me he immediately got very angry; scolding me he said exchanging money illegally in the streets of Montenegro was both illegal and dangerous. You can’t change the past so I diplomatically apologized and Darko soon forgot his anger I lieu of the fact that now we all could have lunch. Afterward, Darko brought us to a beautiful beach nearby. The majority of the sunbathers were ethnic Albanian and again no one harassed us based on our ethnicity. I tried pushing Darko into driving into Kosovo but he flatly refused. I found it interesting that the international news at this time was reporting that there were hundreds of thousands of homeless ethnic Albanians being ethnically cleansed to Albania, I did not see one ethnic Albanian or Roma homeless on the streets anywhere. All seemed normal only ten meters from the Kosovo border. After a day of swimming and partially nude sunbathing, we returned to the hotel. Insofar as sequence of events, at this junction in time it was the last few days I spent in Montenegro; it’s difficult now to remember the exact timeline of events. In other words, I remember visiting Old Town and Podgorica also in Montenegro but uncertain of which locations we visited first. During the last two days, Darko took me one day to Old Town in Montenegro for dinner; there we greatly enjoyed an expensive seafood meal after which we walked around. Darko got a parking ticket that night in Old Town and greatly complained about its five dollar fee; for some, five dollars is equal to an entire week pay in Serbia. I think I offered him the five dollars for the ticket feeling guilty because it was only for my benefit he parked there at all. Darko wanted to show me Old Town; he already knew what the beautiful cobble stone streets looked like. We also went to the Montenegrin capital, Podgorica. I really don’t remember much of Podgorica except for walking around the streets one night. Since we didn’t swim there so it wasn’t a high point for me. When our ten day stay in Montenegro was finished we all packed and returned the way we came in Darko’s car. The day before we left, Darko’s car required maintenance. We didn’t have enough cash on hand left to pay for the needed repairs so I called Arnold Stark, my fiancée in the states, asking him to please wire us five hundred dollars cash to Montenegro; he did. This is a fact that Arnold himself can verify being that he alone possesses the charge card receipt for wiring us the money through Western Union to a town not far from Budva. With Darko’s car repairs complete, we returned home for Beograd. On the way back to Beograd we made two more important stops. One was Hercegovni where we met up with Darko’s cousin, a soon to be freshman college student and her friends. We had a couple of drinks, snapped some photos and Darko and I went for a quick swim in the sea. When it began to rain, we called it a day. The other stop was somewhere on the way back, where I have no idea. We pulled up to a large lake. Darko pulled his car onto a large ferry boat. There were some people on the ferry, but primarily soldiers from the Serbian military. Reaching the other side we drove around but I can’t remember much. Returning on the ferry, we piled into Darko’s car and appeared at his apartment several hours later. We were all extremely exhausted and passed out as soon as possible in our separate rooms. Again, we walked past the same old men sitting in front of Darko’s apartment building seeming to do nothing; they waved at us. There were only two days left of my vacation at this point; I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. I’d come down with terrible stomach symptoms that began in Budva several days prior. This was probably owing to my ignoring Darko and Bojana’s warning not to drink tap water but only bottled; a lesson I ought have learned in Indonesia as a young girl. We were all feeling tired and slightly under the weather merely wanting to recuperate. Notwithstanding, Darko, always an avid early morning riser, insisted we promenade Beograd’s renown indoor marketplace; an extremely large indoor flea market. We walked approximately an hour or two. I tried on several dresses before finally buying myself one; the type I can’t recall. Bojana bought herself Serbian brand makeup after which Darko informed us it’s time to leave. Shopping was always boring to Darko unless it was for himself and during his stay in the United States Darko, Bojana and I hit many malls in New York and New Jersey such as Willow brook in Wayne, New Jersey. Other favorite stores we often visited were Daffy’s and Macy’s in Forest Hills, Queens, New York. I vividly remember the Republika Srpska diplomatic contact, Dejan Miletic, to the Hague court in the Netherlands visiting. Me, Darko, he whose name was, Dan, Dejan Miletic (he gave me his busines card at the restaurant), in English, along with my daughter little Jill went to Macy’s at the Willow brook Mall in Wayne NJ allowing Dan to buy some gifts for his girlfriend back in Bosnia. Afterwards, we all enjoyed a wonderful lunch at Six Brothers Diner on Route 46 not to far from Montclair State University in New Jersey. I can’t recall whether it was prior to vacationing in Budva or after, but close to the Beograd marketplace we visited the apartment of a Serbian basketball player and his disc jockey roommate (the walls of the apartment were covered with music CD’s from around the world). It was a very impressive CD collection. He said he often spent time in Manhattan studying when not having to compete. I became increasingly sad during this time owing that in another day I’d again be saying goodbye to the man I loved, Darko; perhaps leaving Serbia forever. I wanted to stay and live in Beograd permanently but I had duties to my graduate studies at FDU in Hackensack, New Jersey. Had I known the university (FDU) would be soon dismissing me from their graduate program similarly to the New School for Social Research, I would have stayed in Beograd. I always told Darko my greatest desire was to live in Serbia and/or Montenegro. He always replied, “Jill you have your children and your studies now. After your children leave and you complete your graduate degree, then you can come reside in my country.” After the New School discriminated against me and I was recently receiving poor grades at FDU from professors that had formerly studied and graduated from the New School themselves, I felt I wanted to leave America thinking strongly I would have more academic freedom in Serbia. In fact during my entire Serbian trip, I discovered that myself and others freely spoke our minds on a myriad of subjects such as politics and theology without being badgered. This was my personal experience and I know allegedly not all Serb citizenry under previous regimes enjoyed such privilege. Upon leaving the marketplace we enjoyed lunch at Darko’s which Bojana prepared; she was an excellent cook! My favorite Serbian food is Gibanica (I think this is the correct spelling). Gibanica is an exquisite main dish comprised of Greek filo dough, beef, cheese and sometimes spinach baked in layers similarly to Italian lasagna. After lunch, I decided to walk by myself to a local store for purchasing some items. I wanted some air alone outside not wanting Darko to see me cry. As aforementioned, I became extremely sad about returning to the United States the following day. When returning to the apartment, Darko suggested I nap a while so I did. I don’t remember what time it was when Darko knocked on my door waking me up. He informed me we were heading out soon to meet up with a friend of his named, Sharko, he wanted to introduce me. We left Darko’s apartment after dusk and about ten minutes later parked nearby a beautiful green park lined with trees along the river, somewhere in Beograd. Uncertain exactly where we were going, I allowed Darko and Bojana to lead. Strolling down the narrow paved path a few feet wide cutting into a grassy hill, we headed directly towards a boat restaurant. Traversing the small shaky wooden bridge, we boarded. The place was empty; we were the only persons present besides one waitress. We sat as follows; Darko and Bojana sat next to each other as in American restaurant booth’s and I sat alone across vis-à-vis. The boat itself was very luxurious resembling the interior of several large boats formerly owned by the late Aristotle Onassis. I have several books on Aristotle Onassis so I have seen photos of the interior of his large boats. The waitress came over to take our order; there was no menu. We verbally told her which libation we wanted; as she walked away Sharko came in. Sharko was Ratko Mladic; he wore old faded blue jeans sagging a bit around his waist. I wasn’t scared at all. When first shaking hands with Mr. Mladic I thought quietly, this couldn’t possibly be happening; but it in objective reality it was really happening. I’ve met many interesting people since graduating WPUNJ in New Jersey in 1997. I personally coined the term, extreme sociologist which I consider myself. I may not be rich, but achieved my scholarly goals notwithstanding either FDU or the New School for Social Research in Manhattan dismissing me from their graduate study programs. Since completing my undergraduate degree, I’ve desired to better understand our world by meeting with and talking with the world’s most controversial individuals. I believe in traveling to hidden and seemingly remote places around the world, partaking in local cultural activities for better understanding wherefore people behave as they do. Mladic first seated himself across from me, in a separate chair the right of Darko. The waitress returned asking Mladic what he preferred to drink; he ordered expensive wine saying jokingly it was “two hundred dollars a bottle,” smiling. I was already drinking an alcoholic beverage of some sort I can’t remember along with Bojana. Darko rarely drank and sipped on something non-alcoholic. Extolling me to Mladic, Darko explicated whereby I was the only American college student standing firm on grave issues pertaining to international justice insofar, the NATO and the former Yugoslavia. Darko finished boasting about me to Mladic after which I in an extremely forceful forthright manner explained to Mladic my political views insofar as NATO’s breaching international law by launching military aggression against the former Yugoslavia, by bombing the Chinese embassy in Beograd, and, by purposely bombing other civilian targets in Serbia and Montenegro in 1999. I have a film of when NATO bombed a newborn baby hospital unit in Beograd; disgraceful! Mladic seemed impressed with my viewpoints on war and peace. He was very warm friendly man; very relaxed and laid back. He smiled the entirety we were chilling out just enjoying each other’s company and drink. Hanging out with Mladic was no different than chilling with my other friends back in America. I ordered another drink with Darko’s disapproval. As aforementioned, Darko strongly disdained mind altering substances, always trying to help me overcome my craving for them. Then, Mladic opened his wallet, showing me photos of his wife and children; he had a very attractive family as portrayed in his wallet sized photos. I think he missed them, perhaps empathizing to the loss I felt being estranged with my own two children for so many agonizing years. Like General Mladic, I possess very few photos of my own children. The photos Mladic had in his wallet were obviously very old because his children were still very young in the pictures. It was evident he didn’t have any recent photos of his family in many years; I sympathized with him in this respect. After reminiscing over family photos he got up sitting next to me across from Darko and Bojana. I let him hold my hand gently massaging it. He kissed my hand, inviting me to spend the night with him in the hills of Beograd; I declined on account of my strong Orthodox Christian theological convictions. I admit Mladic having warm inviting hands and greatly enjoying the manner in which he touched me. I did consider him an attractive man; yet as aforementioned I declined his invitation. He accepted my decision although he did ask me again; again I replied the same answer. It was getting late and I was departing Serbia the following day in the afternoon. Still sipping my drink, I began urging Darko to return to America with me making a life for himself teaching as a professor at a university. In retrospect, I now feel tremendous guilt and shame because of my advances towards Darko owing to Bojana my best friend sitting there with me vis-à-vis. Feeling a bit tipsy from drinking, Mladic continued making sexual advances towards urging me to go home with him. Darko laughed seemingly thinking Mladic’s advances towards me were cute stating, “go ahead Jill, spend the night with Sharko, it’s fine…Sharko‘s a good friend of mine…don‘t worry if you want to…I promise you’ll not miss your flight back to America tomorrow…“ I continued declining the advances and when it became obvious I wouldn’t change my mind, Darko said we had to leave because I had to finish packing for my flight and get a good nights sleep. We all departed identically to boarding the boat restaurant, crossing the small narrow wooden bridge; Sharko/ Mladic departed with us. After exiting, Mladic and I stood in front of the boat restaurant for several minutes. I began crying because I loved Serbia not wanting to leave the next day. Mladic pulled me close to him and embracing me, he kissed both my cheeks. I kissed his cheeks also embracing him. In examining photos online of the Topcider Serbian military barracks in Beograd recently, the photo scenes look identical to where I met Ratko that night. Even the photos of the trees, walkways and benches/Gazebo and river where we met look exactly the same. I remember the shape of the trees there that night even. The scene that night when we met looks very much identical as seen in the newly released Mladic home videos. I wonder if Mladic did not have any security when he met me because Darko had brought me in the Topcider military barracks to meet Mladic that night; I believe he did. I would not have known the difference since it seemed merely a beautiful park. Darko and Bojana were walking ahead towards the car leaving me and Mladic alone. Knowing, I’d continue crying, I broke our embrace saying “goodbye.” Mladic promised to visit me the next day dressed in his full military uniform before I left Serbia. I didn’t want to part; but I did. I saw Darko and Bojana walking towards their car up the grassy hill and followed. I walked briskly catching up with them; I was exhausted and still had to finish packing back at Darko‘s apartment. Once more I turned and saw Mladic drive away in an old brown Mercedes Benz on its left front side. I was surprised to see it was scratched and slightly dented. Arriving back at Darko’s place, I completed preparations for departing the following day and fell fast asleep. The next day I woke up around mid morning feeling depressed so I went for a walk to a local store picking up some things. Returning to Darko’s, we were standing outside his apartment discussing something when I turned seeing Mladic approaching me in full military regalia. We shook hands glad seeing each other. Of all photos I’ve seen online, Mladic never looked better than he did then. His military uniform was clean, ironed and he wore every military metal ever earned it seemed to me. He was as honorably decorated as any of the American Joint Chief’s of Staff; even wearing his gold colored in sigma upon his green military cap. He had many gold colored metals hanging from his uniform on the left side by his chest. I was privileged to see him this way; I confess being impressed. I was surprised to say the very least. Darko said to stand next to Mladic insisting on snapping some photos of the two of us. Mladic placed his arm around my shoulder and I his; we both smiled as Darko snapped some photos. When finished Mladic presented me with a gift. The book I posted online for you all to view, signing it to me under the alias name, Sharko thanking me for beautiful times spent together in Beograd. We embraced and he left as Darko interjected saying we had to hurry to the airport before I miss my flight. Darko’s German friend delivered me back to Beograd airport the same manner as picked up. There was little time, my flight was actually locking the gate and about to depart without me. Darko ran up to someone important showing his governmental badge as I recall, asking them to hold the flight until I board. There was hardly time for JAT to weigh my luggage; they did however inform me it weighed over the limit allowed. Darko said there was no time to be picky about what I was bringing back to the States ; I obeyed leaving one full suitcase behind with him as to not miss my flight. Quickly helped me through customs and the gate, I tried prolonging our goodbye. Darko didn’t want seeing him cry and urged me on as the Serbian flight attendant waved me to hurry. The gate was closed up and I had to run with my carry on to board the plane. One last time I turned briefly to see Darko; he tried hiding the tears swelling in his eyes as I. I took my seat on the JAT flight back home to America. Upon reaching JFK my luggage was lost and it was delivered over the weekend to my home in Bloomingdale New Jersey. This is what it’s like to chill with the most ruthless men in the world. No biggie really. THE # # Projects Center Int’l [Beograd / New York] Miss Jill Louise Starr [Director of LPC New York] 138-A Hamburg Tpk., Bloomingdale, N.J. 07403 # To: All Interested Parties Date: March 11th 2001 Subject: Int’l Criminal Court Preparatory Commission Meeting Report [Draft Documents on Establishing a Permanent ICC] March 1st – March 9th 2001 United Nations, N.Y.C. Dear Friends and Colleagues, In the true spirit of former United States President, Woodrow Wilson’s American Democratic Ideals#, I hereby forward you draft documents from the recent United Nations meetings held in New York City on establishing a permanent International Criminal Court. I strongly believe, if all countries in our world will soon be submitting both themselves and their citizenry to a new ICC establishment possessing exclusive international legal jurisdiction over the entire world, that you should fully comprehend its meaning and raison d’etat. Hence, I believe that all persons possessing a strong commitment to enhancing democracy, internationally applying equitable social justice and peace for our perpetual human survival and for our posterity [without prejudice], should read these documents. Respectfully Yours, Miss Jill Louse Starr PS: I probably have other documents I’ll have to check. Start reading these including a scanned photo image of the secret Richard Holbrook and Radovan Karadzic Immunity Agreement. PS: I probably have other documetns I’ll have to check. Start reading # # - meeting-documents-here-more-easily/ The book I wrote entitled, “Chilling Out With Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic’ is far from # # (MY RARE USED BOOK STORE ON # Forfatter: lpcyu Oprettelse dato: 17. Nov 2009. 20:48:31

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