“We can bury anyone”:
the tactics, named

Why an entertainment PR firm belongs in an Epstein archive.

This site documents a lineage: Epstein paid Hiltzik Strategies $25,000 a month in 2017. Melissa Nathan was executive vice president at Hiltzik. In 2024 she founded The Agency Group, taking several colleagues with her. Nothing indicates she worked on the Epstein account, and this page does not suggest she did.

The connection that matters is not personnel. It is method. What Epstein bought in 2017 and what the Lively complaint describes in 2024 are the same product: not a defence of the client, but the reshaping of what the public appears to believe.

And the defence offered is the most important document here. Baldoni’s lawyer said TAG “operated as any other crisis management firm would.” Read that as a factual claim rather than a denial and it says: this is normal. Every well-resourced person facing an allegation can buy this.

What industry insiders actually objected to. A media broker told Variety that fix-it shops routinely employ “cyber warriors” to manage chatter — but that hiring agitators to script a new narrative breaks an unwritten code. Their shock was not at the tactics. It was that these ones were put in writing.

The reason this is worth a page of its own. Every other mechanism in this archive required something scarce — a Harvard office, a presidential plane, a barred donor list nobody enforced. This one is available commercially, to anyone who can pay, and it leaves no signature by design.

There is a second mechanism, and it is not covert at all. It is filed, public and legal — which is precisely why it works better.

Stephen Schwarzman, co-founder and CEO of Blackstone, appears in 132 documents in the case files and was named on the DOJ’s February 2026 list of 305 politically exposed persons.

What the files actually show is Epstein wanting in, not being in. In a 2010 exchange a correspondent suggests “attaching to Blackstone might be good idea.” Epstein replies: “at the right level, yes., however the egos their are rampant.” Of Schwarzman personally he wrote: “terrific.”

And in August 2018 Epstein drafted a “war council” of Trump associates to respond to the Russia investigation, listing Schwarzman alongside Wynn, Giuliani, LeFrak, Lorber and Barrack.

The denial is categorical and belongs here in full. A spokesperson: “It would be categorically false and grossly irresponsible to claim or imply that Steve had any relationship with this despicable individual.” The released files contain no direct correspondence between the two men, and Schwarzman appears in zero flight logs.

So the Epstein connection is thin — and the political one is not.

Schwarzman has given $26,500 to Representative Ashley Hinson, who worked to delay release of the Epstein files. Per the Daily Beast, $7,000 arrived on 10 September — days after Rep. Thomas Massie filed the discharge petition that ultimately forced the files out.

Hinson took nearly $90,000 across her campaigns and PACs from billionaires named in the files — Schwarzman, Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, and Apollo’s Marc Rowan — including roughly $30,500 during the period she helped delay disclosure.

That is the finding, and it needs no conspiracy. Men who appear in the files donated to a legislator working to keep the files sealed. Every transaction was legal and disclosed. Nothing was hidden, and nothing needed to be.

Schwarzman faces no accusation of wrongdoing in connection with Epstein, and there is no evidence any donation was made to influence the disclosure vote. Large donors give to many legislators for many reasons.

One further data point. In February 2026 Blackstone cut ties with Global Counsel, Peter Mandelson’s advisory firm, after the files revealed Mandelson had sought business advice from Epstein. KKR, Barclays and the Premier League did the same. The reputational machinery works in both directions — and it moves fastest for those who can afford to be seen moving.

Here is the rule, and it is close to absurd once stated plainly.

If someone pays a writer to say a running shoe prevents injury, that payment must be disclosed. The FTC pursued Lord & Taylor in 2016 for exactly this — placing a “seemingly objective ‘news’ article” in the magazine Nylon without revealing it was paid. The company signed a consent order.

If someone pays a writer to say a woman who accused a man of harassment is a liar, no disclosure is required at all.

The difference is not moral. It is jurisdictional. The FTC’s authority runs to deceptive acts in commerce — advertising. Its Endorsement Guides require disclosure of material connections between advertisers and endorsers. Its 2015 native-advertising guidance says a promotional message must not imply it is anything other than an ad.

Reputation management sells nothing. A campaign to discredit an accuser is not promoting a product, so it is not commercial speech, so the one agency with relevant expertise has no clear hook. The conduct is more consequential and less regulated.

Even inside advertising, the rules are softer than they sound. The FTC’s own guidance notes disclosure is not required for all native ads, and provides no objective test for when it is — practitioners are told to make a judgement call.

And there is no registry. Lobbyists must register federally. Political donors must file. A crisis PR firm has no obligation to disclose that it exists on a matter, who retained it, what it was paid, or what it placed.

Which is why the Lively texts matter beyond that case. They surfaced through subpoena in private litigation. Absent a lawsuit with the resources to compel discovery, none of it would ever have been visible — and that is the normal condition, not the exception.

This archive already documents the journalist-side version of the same gap. Epstein’s $25,000-a-month retainer bought services never publicly itemised. A reporter tipped him about a rival’s enquiries. Another supplied him with media strategy while covering him. In none of those cases did any rule require a reader to be told.