FBI probing leaks to journalist who wrote explosive article on Kash Patel, sources say
MS NOW has learned that agents are investigating the Atlantic reporter who wrote a detailed story of Patel’s alleged heavy drinking and erratic behavior.
The FBI has launched a criminal leak investigation focusing on an Atlantic magazine journalist who wrote a deeply unflattering account last month of Director Kash Patel’s work habits, two people familiar with the matter told MS NOW.
The sources said the so-called insider threat investigation is highly unusual because it did not stem from a disclosure of classified information and because it is focused on leaks to a reporter. The agents involved are part of an insider threats unit based in Huntsville, Alabama, the sources added.
Typically, leak investigations look into government officials who may have disclosed state secrets or classified documents. Journalists who receive and publish such information have typically only been involved as potential witnesses.
The journalist, Sarah Fitzpatrick, cited two dozen anonymous sources in a detailed story reporting that Patel’s alcohol consumption and erratic behavior had caused deep concern among FBI officials. Patel was known to drink to the point of intoxication, she reported, adding that on occasion his security detail had trouble waking him in the morning.
Patel immediately sued The Atlantic, saying the story contained falsehoods and claiming he had been defamed. The magazine and Fitzpatrick stood by her reporting, saying they had received additional corroboration after it was published.
An investigation could be used by FBI agents to obtain her phone records, run her name and information through FBI databases and examine her social media contacts. It was not known what investigative steps agents have taken in the case.
There is deep concern about this approach among some of the FBI agents assigned to the matter, said the sources, who were granted anonymity in order to speak freely about a sensitive matter.
“They know they are not supposed to do this,” one source said. “But if they don’t go forward, they could lose their jobs. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”
FBI spokesperson Ben Williamson denied the investigation to MS NOW, saying, “This is completely false. No such investigation like this exists and the reporter you mention is not being investigated at all.
“Every time there’s a publication of false claims by anonymous sources that gets called out, the media plays the victim via investigations that do not exist,” he added.
In a statement to MS NOW, The Atlantic’s editor-in-chief, Jeffrey Goldberg, said, “We will have further comment when we learn more. If true, this would be an outrageous, illegal, and dangerous attack on the free press and the First Amendment. We will defend Sarah and all of our reporters who are subjected to government harassment simply for pursuing the truth.”
The Justice Department has had a very high bar to subpoena reporters or seek to obtain their phone records in criminal investigations, and historically has sought to get such testimony or records only when there is leak of classified information and investigators have already exhausted all other means to find the person or people who illegally released such sensitive material.
During the George W. Bush and Obama administrations, the FBI infrequently obtained reporters’ phone records as part of investigations into government officials suspected of disclosing classified information, in violation of the Espionage Act.
During President Joe Biden’s administration, Attorney General Merrick Garland went further to protect journalists’ sources. His actions came in the wake of the early 2021 discovery that the Justice Department in the first Trump presidency had secretly obtained records of journalists at The Washington Post, CNN and The New York Times when probing who had disclosed government secrets related to the investigation of Russian interference in the 2016 election and other national security matters.
In July 2021, Garland issued a directive that prohibited federal prosecutors from seizing journalists’ records when they were engaged in normal newsgathering, other than in extraordinary circumstances. That included when reporters were suspected of working for agents of a foreign power or terrorist organizations or in situations that posed imminent risk to human life.
That July, Garland ordered a full review of the department’s use of subpoenas and compulsory orders to telephone and internet providers seeking reporters’ testimony and records. Ultimately this resulted in him adopting a new and broader media policy in October 2022. That policy codified the restrictions and required that prosecutors obtain the approval of the attorney general when seeking to execute a search warrant of a reporter’s home or office — as well as the approval of the deputy attorney general in order to subpoena reporters’ testimony.
The policy required that the department only subpoena or seek records of reporters engaged in normal newsgathering when a member of the news media is the subject or target of an investigation and is suspected of committing an offense.
“These regulations recognize the crucial role that a free and independent press plays in our democracy,” Garland said in an October 2022 statement announcing his new policy.
“Because freedom of the press requires that members of the news media have the freedom to investigate and report the news, the new regulations are intended to provide enhanced protection to members of the news media from certain law enforcement tools and actions that might unreasonably impair newsgathering.”
Trump’s attorney general, Pam Bondi, repealed the Garland policy in April 2025, within three months of taking office, and dramatically lowered the standards for prosecutors in seeking such records. Bondi’s revisions, however, recognized that demanding reporters’ testimony and records through subpoenas and search warrants was a technique “to be deployed as a last resort.”
It is unclear whether the FBI has already exhausted other methods to find leakers, such as interviewing a pool of government employees with access to the kind of information published in The Atlantic magazine article.
Last month, The New York Times reported that the FBI began investigating one of its reporters for violating stalking laws after she wrote a story about an FBI security detail assigned to Patel’s girlfriend. The FBI told the paper that while it found the reporter’s process “aggressive,” it was not pursuing a case.
In January, the FBI conducted a court-authorized — and unprecedented — search of the home of Washington Post reporter Hannah Natanson, seizing two computers, a recorder, a Garmin watch, a phone and a portable hard drive.
Natanson was not under investigation, however; the probe focuses on a systems administrator with a top secret security clearance who has been charged with unlawfully obtaining and sharing classified materials.
Two federal judges have so far forbidden the government from examining Natanson’s devices. On Monday she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for public service for her reporting on mass firings by DOGE as Trump overhauled the federal government.
The FBI also launched an internal inquiry after former NBC News contributor Frank Figliuzzi made comments about Patel’s alleged socializing and work habits last year on “Morning Joe,” two sources familiar with the matter told MS NOW. Patel’s lawsuit against Figliuzzi has been thrown out by a judge who ruled his comments amounted to hyperbole.
FBI reportedly investigated a reporter after she wrote an article Kash Patel didn’t like
The offensive against the free press over the past 16 months has been staggering, but the latest reporting suggests the problem is intensifying.
The FBI doesn’t investigate journalists often, but when it does, it tends to be because a reporter has a confidential source who’s been accused of leaking sensitive information to a news organization. Earlier this year, for example, the FBI searched the home of Hannah Natanson, a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter at The Washington Post, seizing devices as part of a criminal case involving an alleged leak of classified information.
The bureau does not, however, have a record of investigating journalists for writing an article the FBI director doesn’t like. Nevertheless, The New York Times reported:
The F.B.I. began investigating a New York Times reporter last month after she wrote about the bureau’s director, Kash Patel, using bureau personnel to provide his girlfriend with government security and transportation, according to a person briefed on the matter.
Agents interviewed the girlfriend, queried databases for information on the reporter, Elizabeth Williamson, and recommended moving forward to determine whether Ms. Williamson broke federal stalking laws, the person said.
The Times’ report, which has not been independently verified by MS NOW, added that the investigatory steps “prompted concerns among some Justice Department officials who saw the inquiry as retaliation for an article that Mr. Patel and his girlfriend, Alexis Wilkins, did not like, and who determined there was no legal basis to proceed with the investigation.”
The bureau made no effort to deny the accuracy of the latest reporting, telling the Times on the record that investigators “were concerned” about “aggressive reporting techniques,” though the FBI also confirmed that it is not pursuing a case against the reporter.
That this matter apparently will not proceed further is good but doesn’t change the apparent fact that the FBI launched an investigation into a reporter in response to an article that bothered the bureau’s scandal-plagued director.
To be sure, the administration-wide offensive against the free press over the past 16 months has been staggering — Donald Trump himself has suggested “evening shows” should not be “allowed” to criticize him, adding that reporting he disapproves of is “really illegal” — but this latest news from the Times suggests the problem is intensifying.
For his part, Patel appeared on Fox News on Wednesday night and denied that he misused the FBI because of a story he didn’t like, but quickly added, “The reality is … that this same reporter delivered a baseless story which caused a direct threat of life to my girlfriend. … We are going to protect, not only me and my loved ones, but every American that is threatened.”
The Boy Who Walked Into the Wedding. The Girl Who Stood Up for the Truth.
At first, everyone thought the boy was there to steal something.
He appeared at the entrance of the grand wedding hall like a shadow that had wandered into the wrong dream.
The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, golden curtains, towers of white roses, and guests dressed in silk, satin, and diamonds. Waiters moved between tables carrying trays of champagne. A pianist played softly near the marble dance floor. Everything looked perfect.
And then he walked in.
A skinny teenage boy in dirty white sneakers, an oversized black jacket, and a gray hoodie stained with dust.
The laughter faded.
Heads turned.
Someone whispered, “Is he homeless?”
Another voice muttered, “Security.”
The boy ignored them all.
His dark hair fell over his forehead. His face was pale, smudged with dirt, but his eyes were strangely calm. He walked through the crowd as if he already knew exactly where he belonged.
And then he stopped.
Not in front of the bride.
Not in front of the groom.
But in front of the girl in the wheelchair.
Her name was Clara.
She was sixteen, dressed in a pale-blue gown that shimmered under the chandeliers. Her long brown hair was pinned back with a pearl clip, but her hands were folded tightly in her lap, as if she were trying to disappear.
All evening, people had smiled at her with pity.
They told her she looked beautiful.
They told her she was brave.
But no one asked her to dance.
The boy looked at her and said, “I’ll dance with you.”
The room went silent.
Clara’s eyes widened.
Her mother, standing near the head table, gasped. The groom frowned. The bride placed a hand over her mouth.
Clara looked down at her useless legs.
“I can’t dance,” she whispered.
The boy did not move.
“I can’t walk.”
A painful stillness spread across the ballroom.
The boy slowly held out his hand.
Then he said the words that made every guest stop breathing.
“I’ll make you walk.”
Someone laughed nervously.
Someone else said, “That’s cruel.”
A security guard stepped forward, but Clara raised one trembling hand.
“Wait,” she said.
Her voice was barely audible, but everyone heard it.
The boy crouched in front of her.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Eli.”
“Do you know me?”
His jaw tightened.
“I know enough.”
Clara frowned.
Something about his voice made her heart beat faster. It was not the voice of a stranger. It carried pain. It carried memory.
Her mother rushed toward them.
“Clara, don’t listen to him. He’s confused.”
Eli turned his head slowly.
“No,” he said. “I’m the only one here who isn’t.”
A murmur rippled through the guests.
Clara’s father, Richard Vale, stood from the front table. He was the owner of half the hotels in the city, a man whose smile appeared on charity posters and business magazines.
His voice was cold.
“Remove him.”
Two guards moved in.
Eli didn’t resist. He simply reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver key.
The moment Clara saw it, her breath caught.
It was shaped like a tiny bird.
Her pendant.
The one she had lost on the night of the accident.
The night everything changed.
Clara’s voice shook.
“Where did you get that?”
Eli looked at her.
“You gave it to me.”
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
Clara’s mind flashed backward.
Rain on glass.
Headlights.
Her father yelling.
A boy screaming her name.
Then darkness.
For three years, Clara had believed the accident was her fault.
She had been told she ran into the road.
She had been told a strange boy tried to help her.
She had been told he disappeared.
But Eli was standing in front of her now.
Alive.
Broken.
Forgotten.
Her father’s face had gone pale.
“Clara,” he said carefully, “this boy is lying.”
Eli stood.
“No. You lied.”
The bride whispered, “What is happening?”
Eli pointed at Richard.
“That night, Clara didn’t run into the road. You did. You were drunk. You hit us both.”
A shocked gasp tore through the ballroom.
Clara’s mother covered her mouth.
Richard’s expression hardened.
“That is insane.”
Eli’s voice cracked, but he kept going.
“You paid people to erase everything. You told the hospital I was a runaway. You told Clara I was nobody.”
Clara stared at her father.
“Dad?”
Richard stepped toward her.
“Sweetheart, don’t let him upset you.”
But Clara was no longer looking at him.
She was looking at Eli.
At the scar near his eyebrow.
At the way his hand trembled.
At the silver bird key in his palm.
A memory struck her so hard she nearly cried out.
She remembered holding that same hand.
She remembered a boy pushing her away from headlights.
She remembered him whispering, “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”
Clara’s tears spilled over.
“You saved me.”
Eli swallowed.
“I tried.”
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Then Richard said, “Enough.”
He grabbed Clara’s wheelchair handles.
But Eli moved faster.
“Don’t touch her.”
Richard’s mask cracked.
“You filthy little street rat.”
The words echoed.
Every guest heard them.
Phones rose.
Cameras recorded.
Richard realized too late what he had done.
Clara’s hands tightened on the wheels of her chair.
For the first time in three years, she looked at her father not with dependence, but with horror.
“You knew him,” she whispered. “You knew who he was.”
Richard said nothing.
Eli stepped closer to Clara.
“Your legs were injured, yes. But not destroyed.”
Clara froze.
“What?”
Eli looked toward her mother.
“The doctors said she might walk again with treatment. But he stopped it.”
Clara’s mother began to sob.
Richard shouted, “Shut up!”
But it was too late.
Eli pulled a folded envelope from his jacket.
“I found the medical report. The real one.”
Clara’s mother stumbled backward.
Richard lunged for the envelope, but the groom stepped between them.
“Don’t,” he said.
Eli handed the envelope to Clara.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
The words blurred through tears.
Partial spinal trauma. High recovery potential. Intensive therapy recommended.
Clara’s lips parted.
High recovery potential.
Not impossible.
Not hopeless.
Her whole world tilted.
For three years, her father had told her walking again would never happen.
For three years, he had kept her weak, dependent, silent.
Why?
Then she looked across the room at the wedding decorations. At the cameras. At the reporters invited to capture Richard Vale’s “charity wedding donation” announcement later that night.
And she understood.
Her wheelchair had made him look noble.
Her suffering had become his brand.
Her pain had sold his kindness to the world.
Clara let out a broken sound.
“You used me.”
Richard’s face twisted.
“I protected you.”
“No,” she whispered. “You buried me alive.”
Eli knelt again.
His voice softened.
“Clara, I don’t know if you can walk far. I don’t know if it will hurt. But I know this.”
He held out his hand.
“You were never as broken as he made you believe.”
Every eye in the ballroom fixed on Clara.
Her heart pounded.
Her body shook.
Fear screamed inside her.
What if she fell?
What if Eli was wrong?
What if everyone watched her fail?
Then she looked at her father.
And suddenly, falling didn’t scare her as much as staying seated forever.
She placed her hand in Eli’s.
A gasp spread through the room.
“Clara, don’t,” Richard warned.
She ignored him.
Eli gently placed one arm around her shoulders.
“On three,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
“One.”
Her fingers dug into his sleeve.
“Two.”
The wheelchair creaked beneath her.
“Three.”
Clara pushed down with everything she had.
Pain shot through her legs.
Her knees buckled.
The crowd gasped.
Eli held her tighter.
“Look at me,” he said.
“I’m scared,” she cried.
“I know.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Her legs trembled violently. Sweat gathered at her temples. Her breath came in sharp, broken bursts.
Then, slowly—
impossibly—
Clara stood.
For one second, no one moved.
No one spoke.
The entire ballroom seemed frozen inside that single miracle.
Then Clara took one tiny step.
Her mother screamed.
Not in fear.
In joy.
The guests erupted. Some cried. Some clapped. Some simply stared as if they had witnessed the world split open.
Clara collapsed into Eli’s arms, sobbing.
“I walked,” she whispered.
Eli’s eyes filled with tears.
“You did.”
Richard turned to leave.
But the doors opened.
Two police officers stepped in.
Behind them stood an older woman in a nurse’s uniform.
Clara recognized her immediately.
Nurse Helen.
The woman who had disappeared from the hospital after Clara’s accident.
Helen pointed at Richard.
“That’s him,” she said. “He paid me to switch the records.”
Richard’s face drained of color.
The officers moved toward him.
“This is absurd!” he shouted. “Do you know who I am?”
Eli answered quietly.
“A man who thought money could erase the truth.”
Richard was handcuffed in front of everyone.
The cameras captured it all.
The perfect wedding had become a public trial.
But the twist was not finished.
As Richard was dragged away, he suddenly laughed.
Cold.
Ugly.
Desperate.
“You think he came back for justice?” he spat at Clara. “Ask him why he really came.”
Clara turned to Eli.
Eli went still.
Richard smiled like a dying snake.
“Tell her, boy.”
The room grew quiet again.
Clara’s voice trembled.
“Eli?”
He looked down.
For the first time all night, he looked afraid.
“I didn’t just come because of the accident.”
Clara’s heart sank.
“What does that mean?”
Eli reached into his jacket one final time.
This time, he pulled out a faded hospital bracelet.
Clara stared at it.
Her name was on it.
But beside it was another name.
Twin: Male.
Clara stopped breathing.
Her mother let out a strangled cry.
“No,” Clara whispered.
Eli’s eyes shone with tears.
“I was in the car too,” he said. “Not as a stranger.”
Clara’s world went silent.
Eli’s voice broke.
“I was your brother.”
The ballroom disappeared.
The guests vanished.
There was only Eli, holding the bracelet between them.
Her twin brother.
The boy she had forgotten.
The boy her father had abandoned because two injured children would ruin the story.
One disabled daughter made Richard look tragic and heroic.
A homeless son proved he was a monster.
Clara covered her mouth.
Memories returned like lightning.
A little boy laughing beside her.
Two children sharing cake with their fingers.
A silver bird pendant split into two keys.
A voice in the dark saying, “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”
Clara reached toward Eli.
“You were my brother?”
Eli nodded, tears slipping down his dirty cheeks.
“I waited for you to remember me.”
Clara sobbed and pulled him into her arms.
This time, the room did not clap.
No one dared.
Because this was not a performance.
This was a family being resurrected from a grave built by lies.
Her mother fell to her knees beside them, crying harder than either of them had ever heard.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered to Eli. “He told me you died.”
Eli closed his eyes.
“I almost did.”
Clara held him tighter.
The reporters lowered their cameras.
Even the bride cried.
Outside, police lights flashed against the golden windows.
Inside, Clara stood once more—not perfectly, not steadily, but with Eli’s arm around her and her mother holding her other hand.
Together, they faced the crowd.
The girl who had been used as a symbol of weakness had just exposed the empire built on her silence.
The homeless boy who had been thrown away had returned as the only person brave enough to tell the truth.
And Richard Vale, the man everyone had admired, was remembered forever not for his wealth, his charity, or his grand wedding hall—
but for the night his daughter stood up, his son came home, and every lie he had buried finally learned how to walk.
