Plato Cacheris was a legendary Washington, D.C. defense attorney who served as John Kiriakou’s lead counsel in his 2012–2013 prosecution. Kiriakou describes him as “this legendary guy” — at the time of the case approximately eighty years old, six-foot-two, 280 pounds, mean-faced, with fifty-two years at the D.C. criminal bar.[1][2] The Washington Post called Kiriakou’s legal team, Cacheris among them, “legal titans” — the same lawyers who had represented Monica Lewinsky, convicted CIA mole Aldrich Ames, and Attorney General John Mitchell during Watergate.[3][4] When prosecutors’ first offer was 45 years, Kiriakou’s response was blunt: “I’m not doing 45 minutes.”[3]
The 2007–2008 declination
Cacheris represented Kiriakou years earlier, during a separate FBI investigation running from December 2007 to December 2008 — predating the 2012–2013 Espionage Act prosecution. Cacheris told him at the outset, “you didn’t commit a crime… nobody in America knows more about the espionage act than I do.” The investigation ended unusually: the FBI sent Cacheris a declination letter stating it had concluded Kiriakou committed no crime and closing the case, a rare step Kiriakou says the Bureau does not normally take. Kiriakou believes then-FBI Director Robert Mueller, who felt strongly the CIA’s torture program was itself a crime, personally instructed the counterintelligence division to send the letter.[5][6]
The Kiriakou case
Among the 15,000 pages of classified discovery in Kiriakou’s case was a memo to Peter Strzok from an FBI agent recommending the agency end an operation in which an undercover agent posing as a Japanese diplomat had repeatedly tried to induce Kiriakou to sell classified information — “recommend that we end this operation. He’s clearly not going to take the bait.” When Kiriakou asked Cacheris why the government would press on anyway, Cacheris told him: “Because they have a shit case and they know it’s shit, and that’s why we’re going to trial.” Elsewhere Kiriakou recalls the fuller version of that answer — that the government was, in Cacheris’s words, “trying to frame you.”[7][8]
The plea-deal pivot
For most of the prosecution, Cacheris advised Kiriakou to reject every Justice Department plea offer — including a final offer of three and a half years — on the ground that the case could be beaten at trial. The Department’s pattern of coming down in offered sentence struck him as proof of weakness:
I’ve been a criminal defense attorney in this city for 52 years, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen them come down in time. Usually they offer you 10, you say no, the next offer is 15, then 20.[1][9]
In Kiriakou’s own case, prosecutors’ offers fell within a single week: 10 years on a Monday, eight years on Wednesday, five years on Friday — a pace Cacheris, who by then had spent 48 years practicing law in Washington, said he had never seen in a career that included representing Lewinsky, Mitchell and Ames.[4][10] The offer continued down to three and a half years, which Kiriakou also rejected, before the Justice Department returned with a “best and final” offer of 30 months, of which he would serve 23 — the deal he ultimately accepted in place of the original 45-year threat.[11]
The stall in between is part of the story. Kiriakou names the prosecutor who made the ten-year offer as Patrick Fitzgerald, and says that once the number reached five years the government sat there and did not move for ten months. Four months after the proffer meeting Fitzgerald resigned, which the defence also read as good news.[12][13] Cacheris’s reading of the descending offers had, by Kiriakou’s account, the effect it was meant to: “That made me feel much better.”[13]
The hearing that ended it
Whatever Cacheris believed about the government’s case, the prosecution’s central legal advantage was confirmed in open court when Judge Leonie Brinkema ruled that intent was not an element of the offence. Kiriakou’s attorney jumped up to ask whether she was saying a person could accidentally commit espionage; she said that was exactly what she was saying, and then addressed the defendant directly: “Mr. Kiriakou, you either did it or you didn’t do it. And I think you did it.”[14]
Walking out of the courtroom Kiriakou asked Cacheris what had just happened. The answer was four words: “We just lost the case.”[15] Cacheris also closed off the remedy Kiriakou reached for. Told that this is what juries are for, he answered that “you can only appeal after you lose the case, and you’re going to appeal from prison,” and put a number on the alternative: a plea would be short, while losing at trial meant “realistically looking at 12 to 18 years.”[15][16]
On the morning of the decision — after Kiriakou had emailed his eleven-attorney team at 6 a.m. announcing he would refuse the deal — Cacheris drove to Kiriakou’s house with three partners. His first words: “You stupid son of a bitch — take the deal.” When Kiriakou protested that Cacheris had spent the whole case telling him not to, Cacheris replied: “I only told you that to keep your spirits up.”[2][17][18][19][20][21] Another attorney put it in starker terms: the case was “not about justice… it’s about mitigating damage,” and a trial loss meant realistically 12 to 18 years. With five children at home, Kiriakou took the deal.[22]
The defense team
Kiriakou’s team ran to eleven attorneys, including the D.C. firm Trout Cacheris and Mark McDougall — a Georgetown law professor and chairman of the white-collar defense practice at Akin Gump Strauss.[23] Not everyone on the roster was a friend of the case: one attorney at his old firm, referred to by Kiriakou only as Lanny, called him personally to say he had recused himself the moment he heard the government was going after Kiriakou — this despite Kiriakou having seen him standing next to the attorney general at a press conference.[24] At least one of the Washington Post’s “legal titans” represented him for free after he called her office and she agreed to take the case; regardless, Kiriakou says he ultimately spent $1.1 million on attorneys.[25]
The jury consultant
Kiriakou’s defense also hired O.J. Simpson’s former jury consultant — the uncle of his best friend’s wife — who flew in from Dallas, obtained a security clearance, and waived his usual $10,000-a-day fee out of what Kiriakou describes as pity for his situation.[26][27] After reviewing the 15,000 pages of classified discovery, the consultant told Kiriakou’s attorneys that the Eastern District of Virginia is known as the “espionage court” because no national-security defendant has ever won a case there — its jury pool is drawn from employees and relatives of the CIA, the Pentagon, the FBI, the Department of Homeland Security, and intelligence-community contractors.[28]
Robert Hanssen
Cacheris also represented FBI counterintelligence officer Robert Hanssen, the Soviet/Russian mole. Per Kiriakou, the government had Hanssen “dead to rights,” and the only concession Cacheris obtained in the plea was that Hanssen’s wife could continue to receive his pension.[29]
‘You may live to meet your grandchildren’ (Judging Freedom)
John Kiriakou says the government’s first offer was 45 years, with an Obama prosecutor telling him, “Take the deal, Mr. Kiriakou, and you may live to meet your grandchildren.”[30] He hired Plato Cacheris — whom his godfather had introduced him to over lunch in Alexandria 30 years earlier, telling the teenage Kiriakou, “if you’re ever in trouble, hire this man.”[31][32]