Saving Gary McKinnon by Janis Sharp Page A

that has a judicial system that thinks Guantanamo prison camp is acceptable, or that locking a prisoner up in solitary confinement for up to forty years is not torture, or that putting a man to death after decades on death row is not barbaric, and where male rape in prisons is so endemic that suicide becomes the only option for some – then what does that say about you as a parent or as a human being?
    Would anyone simply allow their child to be extradited without putting up the fight of their lives, if they realised for just one second what was at the other end? Of course they wouldn’t.
    Gary walked into the court and slouched forward as he stood in the dock, the way you do when you’re wishing the ground would open up and swallow you.
    ‘Stand up straight, Mr McKinnon,’ the judge ordered in sergeant-major-style voice.
    Gary stood to attention as instructed. It was hard sitting there watching, as he looked so vulnerable.
    The journalists all laughed when they heard that Gary’s passport was years out of date and had been issued to him when he was at school, as he never travelled. The judge banned Gary from using the internet, which seemed crazy as the US and the CPS had left Gary on the internet for three and a half years after his arrest in 2002, proving that they regarded him as no threat whatsoever, and Gary had not abused that trust.
    I was convinced bail was going to be £100,000 or more, whichwe could never afford. Gary was chewing his nails and staring down at the floor.
    His barrister asked for bail and explained we were not wealthy and, unbelievably, the prosecutor, a kind woman, didn’t object and the magistrate set bail at £5,000.
    She didn’t object! This was the best news I’d heard since Gary was arrested. He was going to be bailed, he’d be free again and as long as he was free he’d be OK. I just had to fight to get the truth out and to keep him free. I could do that.
    The judge ordered the next court hearing to take place on 27 July 2005.
    I was ecstatic and so relieved I almost ran out of the courtroom.
    Outside in the sunshine I could breathe again. Looking up at the sky I wanted to spin round with my arms outstretched and get lost in the dizziness, the way you do when you’re a child and you and the sky become one.
    The bail money had to be paid in cash and we only had a few hours left to raise it. We ran around using cash cards and credit cards but daily limits on bank cards meant we were still well short of what we needed and the banks were closed. We drove to Enfield and borrowed money from close friends who don’t trust banks. Cash is king, they said, and that day it was.
    I could barely believe that at virtually the last minute we had managed to get the whole amount together, but the bail office at Bow Street Magistrates’ was closing so we had to run to have any chance of making it in time.
    We got there too late and my heart sank as I realised it was past closing time. We walked up to the door anyway and were taken aback when it suddenly opened. The young women who worked there had waited for us to arrive with the money so that we could collect Gary from Brixton Prison and take him home.
    This was the start of people we didn’t know going out of their way to help us and I was so grateful to them as I didn’t want Gary to have to spend another night in a prison cell.
    We drove to Brixton. They had already released Gary, who was waiting outside the prison for us when we arrived. He was free, they didn’t have him, and he was on his way home.
    Next day we were sitting at the kitchen table looking through the newspapers and there was a horrendous photo of Gary on the front pages. Media headlines shouted CYBERTERRORIST and CRIMINAL MASTERMIND , which anyone who had met Gary knew was the furthest thing from the truth.
    ‘That photo doesn’t look anything like you, what have they done?’ I was looking at one of the worst photos of Gary I’d ever seen.
    ‘I was in the police van and