The Illustrated Spygate Scandal - Part II
The first political coup in American history
This is Part II. Click here for Part I.
March 9, 2015
The Georgetown restaurant was the kind of place where Washington power brokers made deals over overpriced wine and understated influence. Terry McAuliffe, Virginia's governor and the Clinton family’s longtime friend, smiled warmly as he shook hands with Jill McCabe.
"You should really consider running for state senate," McAuliffe said, his voice carrying the smooth confidence of a man who had spent decades in politics. "Virginia needs leaders like you."
What he didn't mention—what neither of them discussed over their expensive dinner—was that Jill's husband Andrew McCabe was positioned to lead the FBI investigation into Hillary Clinton's email server. That little detail would remain unspoken, hanging in the air like smoke from an expensive cigar.
Sometimes the most important conversations are about what isn't said.
March 12, 2015
Jill McCabe's announcement hit Virginia political circles like a small earthquake. She was running for state senate, and she had serious backing from some very serious people. At FBI headquarters, her husband Andrew was fielding congratulatory calls from colleagues who had no idea they were witnessing the setup for one of the biggest conflicts of interest in Bureau history.
"I'm proud of her," Andrew told his deputy, genuine affection in his voice. "She'll make a great senator."
The deputy nodded and smiled, but something nagged at him. McCabe was about to take over the Clinton investigation, and now his wife was running for office with support from Clinton's closest allies. It was the kind of coincidence that made federal ethics lawyers wake up in cold sweats.
But coincidences, in Washington, rarely are.
March 15, 2015
The "Stand Down" order came quietly, the way most cover-ups begin. Andrew McCabe, newly positioned in the FBI hierarchy, had apparently decided that certain investigations needed to be... deprioritized. The Clinton Foundation probe, the email server investigation—both suddenly found themselves moved to the back burner.
"We have other priorities right now," McCabe told his team, his voice carrying the authority of someone who didn't expect to be questioned.
But FBI agents are trained to notice patterns, and this pattern stunk like week-old fish. Investigations don't just stop unless someone powerful wants them to stop. And the timing—just days after his wife's campaign announcement—was the kind of coincidence that would later make headlines.
In the Bureau's sprawling headquarters, word spread through unofficial channels: the fix was in.
March 21, 2015
The deletion happened on a Saturday, when most of Washington was sleeping off their political hangovers. But Clinton associates were wide awake, working frantically to eliminate thousands of emails that were now under federal subpoena.
"Are you absolutely sure these are gone?" one associate asked, watching servers hum in a data center that felt more like a tomb.
"Gone," came the reply. "Professionally gone."
But "professionally gone" in the digital age is never really gone. Every click, every deletion, every attempt to cover tracks leaves its own trail. FBI forensic specialists would later reconstruct much of what was deleted that night, like digital archaeologists piecing together ancient artifacts.
The cover-up was becoming the crime.
March 31, 2015
Paul Combetta had a problem that wouldn't go away. Despite all his efforts, despite all the careful deletions and professional-grade scrubbing, some of Clinton's emails were still there, sitting on servers like accusations waiting to be discovered.
He downloaded BleachBit, software designed to make data recovery impossible. "This better work," he muttered, watching the progress bar crawl across his screen. Each deleted file felt like another shovel of dirt on the grave of his career.
But Combetta didn't know that digital forensics had evolved beyond simple deletion. The FBI had tools that could resurrect data from the digital dead, and they were already closing in.
His final act of desperation would later become Exhibit A in an obstruction of justice case.
April 29, 2015
The warning came in the form of an official memo that Andrew McCabe read with growing dread. The FBI's ethics office was crystal clear: his wife's campaign created potential conflicts of interest that could compromise any investigation he might lead.
McCabe set the memo down on his desk and stared out his office window at the Washington skyline. He had choices to make, and none of them were good. He could recuse himself from the Clinton investigation, effectively ending his career advancement. Or he could ignore the warning and hope nobody noticed.
He chose to ignore it.
That decision would later be dissected by congressional investigators, ethics panels, and criminal prosecutors. But for now, it was just another piece of paper in another bureaucrat's inbox.
May 19, 2015
The email from Peter Kadzik came from his personal account, which should have been the first red flag. DOJ officials weren't supposed to use personal email for official business, especially when that business involved warning targets of federal investigations.
"Wanted to give you a heads up," Kadzik wrote to John Podesta. "The House is asking questions about Hillary's emails again."
Podesta read the message twice, then forwarded it to the Clinton campaign with a simple note: "Our friend at Justice is looking out for us."
Neither man realized that their "private" communication was creating evidence that would later be used to prove corruption at the highest levels of the Justice Department.
June 5, 2015
Jeannie Rhee stood before the federal judge with the confidence of someone who had never lost a case. Her claim was simple and direct: Hillary Clinton had turned over all official emails to the State Department. Every single one.
"Your Honor," she said, her voice carrying the authority of absolute certainty, "my client has been completely transparent and cooperative."
The judge nodded and made notes. Rhee's statement would become part of the official court record, a sworn declaration that would later prove to be spectacularly false.
What Rhee didn't know—what nobody in that courtroom knew—was that thousands of emails remained hidden on servers across the country, waiting to be discovered by FBI agents who were just beginning to understand the scope of what they were investigating.
June 24, 2015
The discovery of classified information on Clinton's private server landed like a bombshell in the already explosive investigation. What had started as a political scandal was now officially a national security crisis.
FBI Director James Comey convened an emergency meeting with his senior staff. "This changes everything," he said, spreading classified documents across the conference table. "We're not talking about political embarrassment anymore. We're talking about espionage laws."
The room fell silent. Everyone understood what that meant.
Hillary Clinton, the likely Democratic nominee for president, was now the subject of a criminal investigation that could send her to federal prison for a very long time.
A dramatization of real events. Based upon The Timeline of Treason. Part I below.