“We resisted,” said a former senior U.S. official. “We said it’s apples and oranges. We can’t do that. There’s no due process. If you have a case, you have to present it.”
By 2016, federal agents were infuriated to discover that China had used the talks as cover for additional covert operations on U.S. soil. Chinese police officers in the delegations that had come to Washington to discuss Fox Hunt had secretly peeled off to pressure Fox Hunt targets, three former U.S. officials told ProPublica.
“They used delegations to send officers to go out and try to threaten these people, either their assets or their relatives,” the former senior official said.
Most of the stalled deportees remain here today. And not all the Fox Hunt targets turned out to be fat cats.
Liu Xu, a former clerk, was the youngest person on a list of the Fox Hunt 100 most wanted, and the one accused of stealing the smallest amount of money. He was 29 when he fled to Sugar Land, a Houston suburb, in 2013. He told a U.S. immigration judge that he was a whistleblower. Working as a contractor at a social security administration office, he caught his bosses creating fictitious aid recipients and pocketing payments, according to his New York lawyer, Li Jinjin, who also goes by Jim Li. The bosses promptly framed the clerk for stealing about $100,000, Li said.
“He was accused of things that a lower-level official could not do,” Li said. “The prosecutors were trying to protect the bosses.”
In 2019, the judge granted political asylum to the clerk, who has moved and remains under federal protection because of harassment that has included photos of him and his home, complete with his address, being published in Chinese-language media, Li said.
Li, a tough 65-year-old, once served as a police officer in Wuhan. While studying for a Ph.D. in Beijing, he went to jail for participating in the Tiananmen Square protests. The lawyer said Fox Hunt prosecutions often grow out of regional feuds, snaring relatively minor figures.
“These are products of local political conflicts,” Li said. “They pursue them as fugitives because the central government sets a goal. And the provincial government wants to achieve the goal for political needs.”
In the spring of 2017, the plan was ready.
Hu stayed in Wuhan, a remote puppet master running the show. But he sent in a closer: a specialist who had the risky task of bringing back the target. U.S. prosecutors identify her as Tu Lan, 50, a prosecutor for the Hanyang District of Wuhan. She would lead the repatriation team, but because she didn’t speak English, Johnny would stick close and be her intermediary with Mike, as the team called the American private detective.
The other specialist on the team was Li Minjun, now 65, a doctor who had worked for the Ministry of Public Security, U.S. officials said. Her assignment: to escort an elderly man across the world against his will in order to ambush his son.
The father’s age has not been disclosed, but Hu felt he was frail enough to put a physician at his side for the more than 15-hour flight. The plan was to bring the father unannounced to the house in New Jersey — human bait to lure his son out of hiding, Hu told McMahon in an email in March.
“We just want to recomm[e]nd you trace him to find [his son’s] address,” Hu wrote to the detective.
Later, the family would accuse Chinese officials of kidnapping the father. Prosecutors say the team forced him to make the trip.
The father had orders to tell his son how much the family would suffer if the son didn’t obey. Hu hoped the shock would cause the wanted man, Xu Jin, to surrender on the spot, investigators say.
Cases around the world show that such
strong-arm methods are typical. Often, victims accompany captors without a struggle because they fear retaliation against relatives. One businessman on Fox Hunt’s list who lived in Canada flew back to surrender in Shandong province in 2016 after police there arrested his ex-wife, according to a
Human Rights Watch report.