The shadow war between Washington and Tehran nearly spilled onto the pavement of a New York borough through a network of ex-convicts, burner phones, and a middleman operating from the safety of Iran. Farhad Shakeri, an Afghan national and deported felon, wasn't a James Bond villain. He was a creature of the American penal system who turned his prison connections into a lethal franchise for the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).
In late 2024, the Department of Justice unsealed a criminal complaint that read like a pulp noir thriller, yet the stakes were nothing less than the life of a former and future American president. This was not a sophisticated operation involving poisoned umbrellas or high-altitude snipers. It was a grittier, more transactional attempt to outsource the assassination of Donald Trump to a crew of street-level criminals.
The Middleman and the Mandate
Farhad Shakeri spent fourteen years in New York prisons for robbery before being deported in 2008. Most people leave their past behind; Shakeri turned his into a Rolodex for the IRGC. By 2024, he was back in Tehran, serving as a primary asset for the regime’s external operations. His value was his proximity to the American underworld—a demographic the Iranian government believed could be easily bought and weaponized.
In September 2024, an IRGC official gave Shakeri a directive that signaled a desperate shift in strategy. Shakeri was told to drop all other projects, including the stalking of Iranian-American dissidents, and focus entirely on Donald Trump. The IRGC official was blunt. They wanted a plan within seven days. If the window closed, they would wait until after the election, assuming a defeat would make Trump an easier target.
The IRGC wasn't just throwing darts at a map. They were motivated by a long-standing blood feud dating back to the 2020 drone strike that killed General Qasem Soleimani in Baghdad. Since that afternoon, Tehran has repeatedly signaled its intent to settle the score. What changed in 2024 was the move from abstract threats to a concrete, funded, and outsourced operation.
Recruiting the Street
While Shakeri was the architect in Tehran, the boots on the ground belonged to Carlisle Rivera, known as "Pop," and Jonathon Loadholt. These were men Shakeri had met during his stint in the New York prison system. They weren't ideologues. They weren't religious zealots. They were mercenaries for hire, motivated by the promise of six-figure payouts.
The mechanics of the plot involved a meticulous, albeit amateurish, surveillance campaign. Rivera and Loadholt were initially tasked with murdering Masih Alinejad, a Brooklyn-based journalist and fierce critic of the Iranian regime. They spent months tracking her movements, taking photos of her home, and attending her public speaking events at universities.
The Financial Trail
Money was the fuel. The IRGC official told Shakeri that "money is no object" when it came to the Trump hit. Shakeri relayed to his associates that hundreds of thousands of dollars were on the table. This was a transactional arrangement.
- $100,000 promised for the assassination of the journalist.
- $500,000 offered for each of two Jewish-American businessmen in New York.
- Undisclosed "huge" sums for the hit on Donald Trump.
The use of criminal proxies provides the IRGC with a layer of deniability. If a lone gunman with a rap sheet kills a political figure, it’s easier to frame it as domestic chaos rather than a foreign act of war. This is the new face of transnational repression: outsourcing state-sponsored murder to the local criminal element.
Why the Strip Club Matters
The sensationalist headlines often fixate on the mention of a strip club. In reality, this wasn't the headquarters of a grand conspiracy, but a point of contact—a place where the mundane meets the illicit. It reflects the demographic Shakeri was recruiting. He wasn't looking for graduates of the Imam Hossein University; he was looking for people who frequented the fringes of society, where cash is king and questions are few.
Using these venues as meeting points or "offices" is a classic tradecraft move for low-level assets. It provides a loud, crowded environment where a conversation about a "job" can be masked by the general atmosphere of vice. It also underscores the Iranian regime's willingness to rub shoulders with anyone if it serves their vengeful agenda.
The FBI Strategy
The most startling aspect of this case is how the FBI gathered the evidence. Shakeri actually spoke to agents over several recorded phone calls while he was in Iran. This wasn't a confession born of guilt. Shakeri was playing a game. He hoped that by providing information on the IRGC's plots, he could negotiate a sentence reduction for a friend currently incarcerated in the United States.
The FBI played along, letting the asset talk. Through these recordings, Shakeri detailed the IRGC’s demands, their timelines, and their financial commitments. It was a high-stakes gamble for the Bureau. They had to balance the need for intelligence against the risk of the plot moving forward.
Surveillance and Disruption
While Shakeri talked, the FBI New York’s Joint Terrorism Task Force was closing the net on Rivera and Loadholt. They weren't just listening; they were watching the watchers. By the time the charges were unsealed in November 2024, the "boots on the ground" were in custody, and the direct line of communication between Tehran and the New York criminal element had been severed.
The Strategic Shift in Tehran
This plot reveals a terrifying reality about the current Iranian leadership. They are no longer content with proxy wars in the Middle East. They are actively attempting to project lethal force directly into the American heartland.
By targeting a presidential candidate, Iran crossed a red line that most nations wouldn't dare approach. It suggests a level of desperation or perhaps a calculated belief that the American political system is so fractured that such an act wouldn't trigger a unified, devastating response.
The IRGC official's belief that Trump would be "easier to kill" after losing an election shows a fundamental misunderstanding of American security protocols, but it also shows the regime's long-term commitment to the vendetta. They weren't just looking for a win; they were looking for a moment of perceived weakness.
A Systemic Vulnerability
The Shakeri case highlights a gaping hole in national security: the intersection of foreign intelligence and domestic organized crime. Our borders are porous not just for people, but for influence. When a foreign power can reach into a New York prison or a Staten Island neighborhood to recruit hitmen, the traditional methods of counter-intelligence are no longer sufficient.
We often think of state-sponsored terrorism as car bombs or hijacked planes. This was different. This was the "gig economy" of assassination. Shakeri was essentially an Uber dispatcher for murder-for-hire, and his "drivers" were career criminals with nothing to lose.
The fact that the plot was disrupted is a testament to the work of the FBI, but the fact that it got as far as it did—with surveillance photos taken and money exchanged—should be a wake-up call. The IRGC has proven it can navigate our legal and social systems to find the cracks. They found Farhad Shakeri in the New York State prison system decades ago, and they waited until the right moment to use him.
Countering this requires more than just better Secret Service protection for high-profile targets. It requires a deep dive into how foreign assets maintain their networks within the U.S. criminal justice system. If we don't address the ease with which Tehran can buy a "hit" on American soil, we are simply waiting for the next Shakeri to pick up the phone.
The next operative might not be so talkative. Rivera and Loadholt are now facing decades in prison, but Shakeri remains in Tehran, a living link between the IRGC and the American underworld. The shadow war continues, and the pavement of New York remains the frontline.
Reach out to your local representatives to demand increased funding for the Joint Terrorism Task Force specifically aimed at transnational repression.
