Gioeli, 59, had been charged in a total of six murders, including that of Officer Ralph Dols, dating to the 1990s. Jurors found that he and Saracino were involved in murder plots but also concluded that prosecutors failed to prove they actually killed Dols or the others.

The two defendants smiled broadly and slapped their lawyers’ backs after the jury left the courtroom. They face up to 20 years in prison at sentencing on Sept. 14. The murder counts had carried a possible life term.

Outside court, defense attorney Adam Perlmutter said the verdict was a repudiation of the government’s star witness, admitted assassin Dino “Big Dino” Calabro.

“It’s clear (jurors) rejected the vast majority of what Dino Calabro had to say,” the lawyer said.

Prosecutors had no immediate comment.

Investigators believe Dols ran afoul of the mob by marrying the ex-wife of Joel Cacace, another Colombo boss. On the witness stand, Calabro, at the time a Colombo associate, described being recruited by Gioeli for a “piece of work” wanted by Cacace.

Gioeli misled Calabro by telling him the target was a worker at a Queens social club who was in trouble with the family, Calabro said. The witness described how he and Saracino donned baseball caps and gloves before confronting Dols as he got out of his car.

“What’s up?” the officer asked before both men opened fire and left him fatally wounded on the street, Calabro said. The killers tossed their guns in the sewer as they fled, he said.

Calabro said he only learned the victim was a police officer by reading newspaper headlines the next day.

“I was amazed,” he said. “We don’t typically kill police officers. That’s just the rule — you don’t hurt kids and you don’t kill cops.”

Another witness, Saracino’s brother Sebastian, testified that he was ordered to get rid of a Cadillac used in the Dols rubout. The testimony drew a courtroom outburst by Saracino.

“Don’t call me your brother no more! … Stop lying, Sebby!” the defendant shouted as he was led to a holding cell while jurors took a break.

Medunjanin could be ordered to spend the rest of his life in prison when he is sentenced Sept. 7.

Defense attorney Robert Gottlieb said he disagreed with the verdict and would appeal, but said the trial showed that the U.S. court system — not a military tribunal — is best for prosecuting terror crimes.

“The world and our national government including all our politicians should take note that this is the way crimes should be decided, not in a military commission, not in a star chamber, but in America,” he said.

Medunjanin showed no visible reaction to the verdicts.

Gottlieb said Medunjanin asked his lawyer to “tell his family to be strong.” His mother and sister testified during the trial of terrifying late-night raids by federal agents out for Medunjanin.

The defense admitted that the Bosnian-born Medunjanin wanted to fight for the Taliban, but they insisted he never agreed to spread death and destruction in the city where his family put down roots.

Medunjanin, 27, went overseas to fulfill a “romantic version of jihad. … His plan and intent was to join the Taliban and stand up for what he believes in,” defense attorney Robert Gottlieb said in his closing. “That was his purpose.”

The government’s case was built on the testimony of four men: two other radicalized Muslim men from Queens who pleaded guilty in the subway plot, a British would-be shoe bomber and a man originally from Long Island who gave al-Qaida pointers on how best to attack a Walmart store.

Najibullah Zazi and Zarein Ahmedzay, both former high school classmates of Medunjanin, told jurors that the scheme unfolded after the trio traveled to Pakistan in 2008 to avenge the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan.

While receiving terror training at outposts in the South Waziristan region of Pakistan, al-Qaida operatives encouraged the American recruits to return home for a suicide-bombing mission intended to spread panic and cripple the economy. Among the targets considered were New York Stock Exchange, Times Square and Grand Central Terminal, the men testified.

In a later meeting in New York, the plotters decided to strap on bombs and blow themselves up at rush hour on Manhattan subway lines because the transit system is “the heart of everything in New York City,” Zazi said.

Zazi told jurors how he learned to distill explosives ingredients from nail polish remover, hydrogen peroxide and other products sold at beauty supply stores. When leaving Pakistan, he relocated to Colorado, where he perfected a homemade detonator in a hotel room and set out for New York City by car around the eighth anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks.

The plot — financed in part by $50,000 in credit card charges — was abandoned after Zazi noticed that everywhere he drove in New York, a car followed.

“I think law enforcement is on us,” he recalled telling Ahmedzay. Later, he said he told Medunjanin in a text message, “We are done.”

The other convicted terrorists were called as witnesses to give a rare glimpse into al-Qaida’s training methods and the mindset of its leadership.

In a videotaped deposition made public for the first time during the trial, Saajid Badat recounted a clandestine meeting where Osama bin Laden explained the rationale behind the failed plot for Badat and Richard Reid to attack trans-Atlantic flights with bombs hidden in shoes.

Bin Laden “said the American economy is like a chain,” the British man said. “If you break one — one link of the chain — the whole economy will be brought down. So after Sept. 11 attacks, this operation will ruin the aviation industry and in turn the whole economy will come down.”

Bryant Neal Vinas, of Patchogue on Long Island, testified that he went to Pakistan in 2007 and later joined al-Qaida forces in an attack against American soldiers.

Vinas described how he suggested to others in al-Qaida in the summer of 2008 that they could plant explosives in suitcase aboard a Long Island Rail Road train or hide them inside a television that was being returned to a Walmart.

An attack on the popular retail outlet “would cause a very big economy hit,” he said.

Another blurted: “You’re not cops.”

But Jones was indeed an NYPD officer. In fact, he had held an elite undercover position.

Two with him were also part of the NYPD. A third was a former officer. But these were hardly “New York’s Finest.”

What they’d set up to look like a police raid was instead a brazen, $1 million robbery.

Eventually, the 30-year-old Jones would face trial. And his case, though largely overlooked, isn’t isolated. In the past two years, prosecutors have accused officers of planting evidence in drug investigations, of running illegal guns, of robbing drug dealers, of routinely fixing traffic tickets as favors.

Still, Jones stands out because of his background as an undercover operative for the NYPD’s Intelligence Division. The department credits the unit with thwarting numerous terror and other threats against New Yorkers.

Recent stories by The Associated Press have detailed how the unit also sought to infiltrate and monitor mosques, Muslim student organizations and left-wing political organizations — even beyond city limits — using methods that critics say infringe on civil rights, though the department denies it.

How Jones became an undercover and the exact nature of his assignment weren’t made public at his trial in Newark in 2010, and police officials won’t discuss it. But court documents offer hints: They show the NYPD authorized the Caribbean-born Jones to use the aliases Michael Kingston and Kelvin Johns. And in a handwritten journal, he made cryptic references to assignments in cities far from New York.

That was before he was demoted to ordinary patrol — a transfer that still gave him access to an internal police database he used to help hatch the warehouse holdup.

Jones “abused his authority for his own personal gain,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Chris Gramiccioni told jurors. “Instead of protecting and serving the citizens, he decided to rob them and hold them hostage.”

While not commenting directly on Jones, the NYPD insists it carefully vets candidates for undercover work, especially those assigned to Intelligence Division. Some are chosen because they speak Arabic or other languages needed to make their undercover roles convincing, or because they’ve demonstrated a mental toughness needed to withstand the rigors of leading a double life.

Jones’ demeanor would have made him a good choice, said his attorney, Michael Orozco.

“For that kind of work,” Orozco said, “you’d obviously want to have someone who’s cool, calm and collected — and that’s him.”

But a rambling journal entry addressing his girlfriend reveals that the duality was difficult for Jones.

“I never told you I was cop,” he wrote, “because I was in too DEEP.”

___

Back in 2003, Kelvin Jones was listed in the media guide for the Southeast Missouri Redhawks as a 6-foot, 210-pound linebacker, a “hard hitter” with “a good nose for the football.”

Originally from the island of Grenada, Jones had grown up in Brooklyn, the son of a contractor and a dietitian.

In his last season at the college in Cape Girardeau, Mo., the Redhawks finished with a forgettable 5-7 record. But Jones stuck to his studies and graduated with a degree in criminal justice.

He played professionally in the now-defunct National Indoor Football League, leading the Fayetteville Guard in tackles and interceptions in 2006, according to a league blog, but he quit the team before a playoff game. The reason? To enter the police academy in New York City.

On his NYPD application, Jones listed his criminal justice degree and his gridiron work. And to a question about distinguishing markings on his body, he responded, “I got a tattoo on the right side of my back … Lord’s Prayer on a scroll.”

The application offers nothing especially remarkable, nothing to explain Jones’ next move.

Orozco believes Jones went to work for the Intelligence Division “right out the academy.” Jones declined to be interviewed. His family declined comment as well.

NYPD supervisors have at times plucked recruits out of the police academy and given them special training to become undercover investigators. But police officials, citing privacy rules, declined to discuss his employment history.

In court documents, the NYPD confirmed only that Jones had been an Intelligence Division undercover who used aliases. His defense claimed that he also had permission to get a New Jersey driver’s license using a fake name.

Two former NYPD officials familiar with Jones told The Associated Press that one of his assignments was to monitor the Nation of Islam — part of the Intelligence Division’s effort to monitor groups considered to have extreme political agendas. Since the ex-officials weren’t authorized to speak about the case, both spoke only on condition of anonymity.

Jones’ journal offered murky clues. He described having “orders from my captain not to let anyone know I was in Las Vegas” — but no clue what for. Another time, he was on the road because “we got a lead from an informant that someone we were investigating would be in the LA area.”

Still another trip took him to Miami. At a nightclub there, he wrote, he introduced his girlfriend to a “friend” — actually another undercover on assignment with him. “I didn’t pay for my flight to Miami,” he said. “It was paid for by the unit.”

The girlfriend, he wrote knew him only as Kelvin Johns — not Jones — and the deceit was not his only regret. He worried that someday he was “going to get shot.”

Still, he reasoned, “This NYPD career is just a stepping stone for me.” He saw it leading to future job in federal law enforcement.

Though Jones told his lawyer that his supervisors “loved him,” one of the former police officials who spoke to the AP said Jones proved unreliable and difficult to supervise. And at some point, the NYPD’s Internal Affairs Bureau began investigating allegations he gave protection to drug dealers in exchange for cash or narcotics, court records say.

Internal investigators noted his lifestyle, flashy for someone on an officer’s salary. Witnesses described how he drove a BMW sedan, wore expensive clothes, owned a condo and, according to his girlfriend, Sahar Saidi, bankrolled her Spanish studies in South America.

“This is the kind of person I know Kelvin to be — thoughtful, considerate and generous,” she wrote in a letter of support to the court.

The NYPD revealed a different view when it reassigned him from Intelligence to regular duty. But if the idea was to neutralize him, it didn’t work.

___

In his new assignment, Jones met officers already making a mockery of the department’s “New York’s Finest” moniker.

He learned that two patrolmen were routinely robbing prostitutes and brothels, according to trial testimony. Jones sought out one, Brian Checo, to get in on the action.

“I told him it’s not worth it because it’s not a lot of money,” recalled Checo, who pleaded guilty and agreed to become a government witness. “And that’s when he said he is going to have something for us and he is going to let us know.”

About two months later, Jones let Checo know he wanted help robbing a warehouse. This one was in Brooklyn, and it stored counterfeit clothing.

Checo and two others — patrolman Richard LeBlanca and ex-officer Orlando Garcia — signed on.

Jones “had been sitting on a spot” — police slang for reconnaissance — “for a while and that if I was interested …he would be paying us $4,000 each,” Garcia testified.

The plan called for them to wear NYPD raid jackets, bulletproof vests and badges.

“We were going to try to make it seem like an official NYPD raid. … Just make it look like, you know, a sting,” Garcia said.

Converging on the Brooklyn warehouse, the officers used a broom to knock out a security camera. Jones shouted out the names of the employees before the men handcuffed them and trucks began showing up to haul merchandise away. He told his crew the goods would be sold to a fence.

Word later came that the same fence had made Jones an offer he couldn’t refuse, this time regarding a perfume warehouse in Carlstadt, N.J.: If he and his cohorts could “get four trucks of perfumes, he will give them $500,000.”

Jones had learned the other side of the law from his police work. He was always careful to use prepaid cell phones. “You gotta change it up,” he told Checa. Also, Jones’ black BMW had South Carolina plates.

Another tactic came straight out of the surveillance playbook: He had gone to the New Jersey warehouse before that heist to photograph the cars outside. Plugging license plate numbers into NYPD computers, he called up the vehicle registrations and made printouts of names and other information on employees.

On the day of the robbery in 2010, Jones, using the name Mike Smith, went with the others to rent two 24-foot trucks. LeBlanca maxed out his debit card renting one, and Garcia had to use his card, too. Both, incredibly, used their real names — a mistake that would come back to haunt them.

It was still daylight when they arrived at the In Style, USA warehouse. Jones led the fake raid wearing a hat and a hoodie that obscured his face. A police badge hung from his thick neck.

“We have papers, documentation,” Jones told them, reading names from his printouts. He told employees they were suspected of selling knockoff merchandise, and accused their boss of hiring undocumented workers and not paying taxes.

The robber-cops used plastic ties to bind the employees. “We were tied up for three hours,” one said later. “It was really bad for everyone.”

But fear did not silence everyone. The warehouse owner spoke out at one point, saying, according to police testimony: “You’re not cops.”

The helpless hostages heard the beeping noise of trucks backing up. Day laborers hired by the holdup crew did the loading. There were six trucks in all. Four carrying hundreds of boxes of perfume and other merchandise valued at $1 million got away, but the two 24-foot trucks rented earlier that day were left behind after someone called the police.

Afterward, panic set in. Jones advised his cohorts to report that cards used at the truck rental office had been stolen.

But when it dawned on Checo that Jones had made himself a “ghost” — with the prepaid phones, the alias, the out-of-state plates — and he lashed out.

“If I get arrested and lose my job, I’m going to rat you out,” he recalled telling Jones.

Tension only grew when Jones paid the men $2,000 apiece, half of what they were promised.

“They are coming,” Checo told Jones, referring to police investigators.

And he was right. Police and federal agents arrested the officers. The owner of the truck rental agency picked Jones out of a photo array. Checo, as promised, flipped, and the other two robbers also cooperated.

Jones was convicted at a federal trial in Newark in December 2010.

At sentencing, he claimed, “I was framed,” but the judge was unmoved.

The former NYPD undercover is serving a 16-year sentence in an Ohio prison.

___

Associated Press Writer Matt Apuzzo contributed to this report.

Defense attorney Robert Gottlieb accused the government of using “inflammatory rhetoric” about al-Qaida and terrorism to prevent jurors “from seeing the truth about this case.”

“The truth is that Adis Medunjanin is not a terrorist,” he said.

There’s no dispute that Medunjanin and his two former classmates packed up and traveled together to Pakistan in 2008. But federal prosecutors say the three were homegrown Muslim extremists who, under al-Qaida’s tutelage, came back to the United States and hatched a foiled plot to attack the New York City subways as suicide bombers.

Medunjanin, 27, has pleaded not guilty to conspiracy to use weapons of mass destruction, providing material support to a terrorist organization and other charges in what U.S. officials have described as one of the most chilling terror conspiracies since the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks.

Childhood friends Najibullah Zazi and Zarein Ahmedzay have admitted in guilty pleas that they wanted to avenge U.S. aggression in the Arab world by becoming martyrs. Both could be called by the government to testify against Medunjanin.

Another possible witness is Bryant Neal Vinas, a Long Island man who joined al-Qaida around the same time as the other men. Officials have credited Vinas with providing key intelligence about the terror group since his capture in 2008.

Jurors also are expected to hear evidence that following his arrest, Medunjanin told the FBI he had become a more devout Muslim about four years before the plot was exposed after he and Zazi began spending time together at a local mosque, FBI reports say. He also recalled being influenced by tapes of U.S.-born extremist cleric Anwar al-Awlaki, they say.

In 2008, Medunjanin and his friends decided to join the Taliban and fight U.S. soldiers in retaliation for the Abu Ghraib prison abuse scandal, the FBI reports say. The three instead were recruited by al-Qaida operatives, who gave them weapons training in their Pakistan camp and asked them to become suicide bombers, they say.

Medunjanin told his al-Qaida handlers “he had prayed but still wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a martyr,” the reports say. He later was sent home on his own, the reports add, after he told them “the best thing for him to do … was to return to the U.S. and provide financial support” for the terror network.

Zazi, after relocating to the Denver area, got as far as cooking up explosives and setting out by car for New York City in September 2009 to carry out the attack. He was arrested after abandoning the plan and fleeing back to Colorado.

The FBI reports say Medunjanin denied knowing what Zazi was up to. And the defense has claimed he spoke to the FBI under duress.

In a sworn statement, the defendant accused agents of making veiled threats against his family and denying him access to his attorney for 36 hours. Federal authorities insist his statements were voluntary.

Meanwhile, Britain’s Crown Prosecution Service said Monday that it had struck a rare deal with a convicted terrorist to testify at Medunjanin’s trial. Saajid Badat, who was jailed in Britain in 2005 for his role in a 2001 plot to down an American Airlines flight from Paris to Miami with explosives hidden inside shoes, has had his jail term cut from 13 years to 11 years under the agreement. Badat was an accomplice of so-called shoe bomber Richard Reid, who is serving a life sentence in the United States.

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Associated Press Writer David Stringer in London contributed to this report.