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The call came from a number I didn’t recognize, with a Canadian area code.
A steely voice on the other end of the line greeted me, identifying himself as an official with the Canadian military.
He had a question: Had I been reaching out to him on WhatsApp, trying to work him for information?
I paused. As an investigative reporter at ProPublica, I’m reaching out to a lot of people all the time. But as I racked my brain, I couldn’t think of any Canadians I had recently tried to develop as sources.
It seems as though someone is impersonating you, the man warned.
I was at a loss. What was Fake Me asking about? Were they just using my name or my picture too? How could I be sure the person warning me about this impostor wasn’t actually an impostor himself?
The Canadian official assured me he’d send a message from his government email to confirm his identity, and he’d include screenshots of his conversation with Fake Me. I thanked him, and we exchanged some pleasantries. Before saying goodbye, I asked him if there was anything he’d like to get on the radar of an investigative reporter. (Without even realizing it, I was working him for information. Maybe Fake Me and Real Me aren’t so different.)
The screenshots the Canadian sent over later showed someone with a Miami number using my ProPublica headshot as their profile pic. I’ve never lived in Florida.
“This is Robert Faturechi from ProPublica,” Fake Me wrote. “I really need to get in touch with you.”
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