On a warm fall evening in late 2018, I received a message on Twitter from a group of self-described “anonymous hackers” who claimed they’d swiped Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s database.
“We are like hundreds of others, but we are the one and only who got the Special Counsel Mueller database,” the message read, busted English and all. They claimed they’d tapped into a local Russian server, accessing all and sundry from what Mueller and his team had already compiled. The hackers passed along a series of files, a supposed good-faith offer of their findings, so that I could amplify Mueller’s findings, Mueller’s work, Mueller’s accusations far and wide.
“You might wonder why we want to share all this information with you,” the message giddily closed. “So, you’re just one of the few who can handle it in the right way. You are the one who can tell people the truth!”