Trump Says Investigators Find Little Connection Among Missing and Dead Researchers—But the Viral “13 Scientists” List Was Never One Coherent Case

Trump Says Investigators Find Little Connection Among Missing and Dead Researchers—But the Viral “13 Scientists” List Was Never One Coherent Case
President Donald Trump initially described the deaths and disappearances of people linked to sensitive American research as “pretty serious stuff.”
Two weeks later, his assessment sounded considerably less ominous.
“So far, we’re finding that there’s not much of a connection,” Trump told reporters on April 30.
That may turn out to be the most important development in a story that moved remarkably quickly from obscure internet speculation to congressional oversight and an FBI review.
Because there are real people behind the mystery.
Some are dead.
Some remain missing.
Some worked in highly sensitive aerospace, nuclear or defense environments.
And several individual cases genuinely remain unresolved.
But the stronger claim circulating online—that roughly a dozen American scientists connected by secret work were systematically being killed or abducted—has always depended on treating very different people and very different circumstances as though they form one coherent group.

So far, federal investigators have not publicly established that they do.
That distinction matters.
The FBI investigation is real.
The House Oversight investigation is real.
The disappearances are real.
The deaths are real.
What has not been established is the conspiracy tying all of them together.
The controversy exploded into national attention in April after reporters began asking the Trump administration about a growing online list of people associated in varying degrees with NASA, Los Alamos National Laboratory, military research, nuclear technology and other advanced scientific fields.
On April 16, Trump said he had just attended a meeting about the cases.
He said he hoped the pattern was random, called the matter serious and noted that some of the people involved had been important figures.
He predicted his administration would have a clearer answer soon.
The White House then escalated the federal response.
Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said the government would work with relevant agencies to examine possible commonalities.
The FBI subsequently confirmed that it was leading an effort to determine whether connections existed among the cases.
NASA said it was cooperating with the broader review.
But NASA’s role requires an important qualification.
It did not announce an independent criminal investigation equivalent to the FBI’s.
A NASA spokesperson said the agency was coordinating and cooperating with relevant federal agencies.
NASA also said that, based on information within the agency at that time, nothing indicated a national-security threat.
Congress became involved as well.
On April 20, House Oversight Committee Chairman James Comer and Rep. Eric Burlison formally requested briefings from the FBI, NASA, Department of Energy and Department of War.
Their letter did not state that a conspiracy had been established.
In fact, its wording was notably cautious.
The committee said it was examining “unconfirmed public reporting” involving at least ten people allegedly connected to sensitive nuclear or rocket information.
The lawmakers said that if those reports were accurate, the incidents could represent a serious national-security concern.
That qualification is important because the congressional investigation itself was partly a response to media and internet reporting.
It was not the announcement that congressional investigators had independently discovered a coordinated plot.
The committee wanted federal agencies to determine whether such a connection existed.
Burlison later expanded the number publicly.
“The count is up to 13,” he wrote, describing 13 Americans tied to nuclear and space research as missing or dead and saying he intended to find answers.
That became an instantly compelling number.
Thirteen scientists.
Nuclear research.
Space technology.
Missing or dead.
Put together in a headline, those words create the impression of one extraordinary national-security mystery.
The underlying cases are much less uniform.
Not all thirteen were scientists.
Not all handled nuclear information.
Not all were involved in space research.
Not all had current security clearances.
Not all died mysteriously.
And not all deaths remain unexplained.
The initial House Oversight list itself included people with very different professional backgrounds.
Michael David Hicks had been a scientist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory and worked on asteroid and planetary missions.

Monica Reza was a highly experienced metallurgist and materials engineer associated with JPL.
William Neil McCasland was a retired Air Force major general and former commander of the Air Force Research Laboratory.
But Anthony Chavez was a former construction foreman who had worked at Los Alamos.
Melissa Casias was an administrative assistant there.
Steven Garcia was a government contractor at the Kansas City National Security Campus.
Jason Thomas worked in pharmaceutical research at Novartis.
Those distinctions do not make their deaths or disappearances less important.
They do make the label “13 scientists” misleading.
The list is better understood as a collection of individuals who at some point became associated—sometimes closely, sometimes loosely—with institutions involved in science, defense, aerospace or national-security work.
The circumstances of what happened to them are equally different.
Matthew Sullivan provides one of the clearest examples.
Sullivan was a former Air Force intelligence officer and Bronze Star recipient who had worked in sensitive national-security positions.
He died at his Falls Church, Virginia, home on May 12, 2024.
His death was not officially classified as unexplained.
The Northern Virginia medical examiner determined that Sullivan died from an accidental overdose involving alcohol and several medications.
What transformed his death into part of the broader mystery were additional claims surrounding his intelligence work.
The New York Post reported, citing sources, that Sullivan had knowledge of an alleged government UFO crash-retrieval program and had agreed to provide information to Congress before his death.
Burlison subsequently asked the FBI to examine the case.
Those allegations deserve to be separated into two categories.
Sullivan’s military and intelligence background is documented.
His accidental-overdose ruling is documented.
The claim that he personally witnessed extraterrestrial or unidentified craft secretly held by the federal government comes from unnamed sources cited in reporting.
That claim has not been established through a public congressional finding.
Nor does an accidental overdose automatically become suspicious merely because the deceased person possessed sensitive knowledge.
Burlison was entitled to ask the FBI to examine whether anything had been missed.
That inquiry is not evidence that foul play occurred.
Joshua LeBlanc presents an even clearer example of why the list can create a misleading impression.
LeBlanc was an electrical engineer at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center and worked on nuclear propulsion for spaceflight.
That makes him sound like exactly the kind of person whose inclusion on a mysterious-scientist list would attract attention.
But he died on July 22, 2025, after his Tesla left the road in Alabama and caught fire.
Investigators reconstructed portions of his movements using vehicle data.
His death was tragic.
Public reporting has not established that it resulted from an attack on American nuclear researchers.
Jason Thomas is another case.
Thomas was assistant director of chemical biology at Novartis.
His body was recovered from Lake Quannapowitt in Massachusetts after he had been missing.
Authorities determined he died by drowning.
The medical examiner said there was no foul play, and his wife said he had been struggling after the deaths of his parents.
Again, that does not make the death unimportant.
It makes it difficult to treat the death as evidence of a coordinated attack without additional evidence connecting it to something else.
The case of MIT physicist Nuno Loureiro is different because his death unquestionably was a homicide.
Loureiro was a prominent plasma physicist and director of MIT’s Plasma Science and Fusion Center.
He was fatally shot at his home in Brookline, Massachusetts, in December 2025.
That understandably generated enormous concern.
Fusion research is technologically and strategically significant.
A leading scientist being murdered naturally raises questions about motive.
But investigators identified the shooter as Claudio Manuel Neves Valente—the same man authorities linked to the mass shooting at Brown University two days earlier.
Valente was later found dead.
Police had not established a motive for selecting Loureiro, but the existence of an identified perpetrator tied to another violent attack makes the case very different from an unexplained disappearance attributed to a hypothetical foreign intelligence operation.
Carl Grillmair’s death is another homicide with a specific criminal investigation.
Grillmair was a retired Caltech astronomer and astrophysicist whose research included galactic structure, dark matter and exoplanets.
He was shot and killed in February 2026.
Authorities charged a 29-year-old man with murder and burglary in connection with the killing.
Grillmair’s widow has publicly rejected the theory that his death belongs to a coordinated scientist conspiracy.
She told reporters the speculation was nonsense.
That reaction from families matters.
People discussing a viral pattern online are dealing with names and occupations.
Families are dealing with husbands, wives, parents and relatives.
Turning every unexplained or violent death into evidence of an elaborate national-security conspiracy can impose an additional narrative on families that the available evidence does not support.
Amy Eskridge’s case illustrates that problem particularly well.
Eskridge, a researcher interested in advanced propulsion and gravity-related concepts, died in 2022 at age 34.
Online discussions subsequently incorporated her into the broader scientist-death theory.
But House Oversight’s initial April 20 list did not include her among the cases it asked agencies to examine.
Her family has also pushed back against attempts to treat her death as proof of a conspiracy.
That does not resolve every unanswered question surrounding her death.
It demonstrates how the internet list expanded beyond the original congressional inquiry.
The number itself therefore became unstable.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Some online versions went higher still.
Each additional case made the supposed pattern appear more alarming.
But adding people after the theory already exists creates a methodological problem.
If investigators begin with evidence that a group of people was connected and then discover suspicious outcomes, that can establish a genuine pattern.
If people begin with a theory and then search backward through years of deaths and disappearances for anyone who can be fitted into it, the resulting “pattern” can be partly created by the selection process itself.
That is one reason fact-checkers examining the list found no evidence that the people had all worked together.
PolitiFact found that claims suggesting nearly all of them were professional colleagues were exaggerated.
Their actual work ranged across asteroid research, aerospace materials, military acquisition, nuclear-laboratory support, fusion physics, pharmaceuticals and defense contracting.
Some were current scientists.
Some were retired.
Some were support employees.
Some had only indirect connections to the institutions being emphasized online.
That does not rule out the possibility that two or more cases could eventually prove connected.
It makes a single theory explaining all of them much harder to support.
Trump’s April 30 comments reflected that emerging picture.
He said officials had reviewed individual cases and found different explanations.
Some people had been ill.
Some deaths were self-inflicted.
Other cases involved different circumstances.
His conclusion at that stage was that investigators were not seeing much of a connection.
That is considerably different from saying the government has closed every case.
It has not.
Several disappearances remain unresolved.
Monica Reza remains one of the most troubling.
Reza was a materials engineer and metallurgist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory.
She disappeared during a hike in the Angeles National Forest on June 22, 2025.
According to reporting on the search, Reza fell behind her hiking companion, appeared fine when last seen and then vanished.
Search teams found her beanie but did not locate her.
That is a legitimate missing-person mystery.
Reza also had a serious aerospace résumé.
She had worked extensively in materials science and helped develop advanced alloys used in rocket technology.
Congressional investigators cited public reporting alleging a professional link between Reza and McCasland through Air Force-funded research.
That potential connection is one of the more substantive overlaps raised in the broader inquiry.
But even there, a professional connection does not establish that the disappearances themselves have the same cause.
McCasland vanished from his Albuquerque home on February 27, 2026.
The retired major general had commanded the Air Force Research Laboratory and held highly sensitive positions involving advanced military technology during his career.
His disappearance understandably became the event that pushed the broader theory into national attention.
His wife reported him missing.
Authorities found his phone, prescription glasses and wearable devices at home.
Other items—including his wallet, hiking boots and a .38-caliber revolver—were missing.
Law enforcement also expressed concern because of an unspecified medical condition.
McCasland has not simply been written off by investigators.
His disappearance remains a legitimate law-enforcement matter.
But his family has cautioned against assuming classified secrets explain what happened.
His wife publicly questioned theories that someone would abduct him to obtain old classified information.
Anthony Chavez and Steven Garcia also remained among the unresolved missing-person cases when the federal review began.
Chavez was a former Los Alamos construction foreman who disappeared in May 2025.
Investigators said they had not found indications of foul play, although his disappearance remained unusual.
Garcia worked as a contractor at the Kansas City National Security Campus, which produces non-nuclear components used in the nuclear-weapons enterprise.
He disappeared after leaving home on foot with a handgun, according to reporting cited in the federal discussion.
Again, those facts justify continued searches.
They do not by themselves establish assassination or foreign intelligence activity.
One case has also materially changed since the conspiracy first gained national attention.
Melissa Casias was initially listed as a missing Los Alamos employee.
She disappeared on June 26, 2025.
But Casias was not a nuclear physicist or weapons designer.
She worked as an administrative assistant at Los Alamos National Laboratory.
On May 28, 2026, a hiker discovered human remains in Carson National Forest.
Authorities subsequently identified them as Casias.
A handgun was found near the remains.
At the time authorities announced the discovery, the cause and manner of death had not yet been determined.
Her case therefore remains deserving of careful investigation.
But continuing to describe her in August as a “missing scientist” is inaccurate twice over.
She is no longer missing.
And her job at Los Alamos was administrative rather than scientific.
Those kinds of errors matter because they make the apparent pattern look stronger than it is.
“Los Alamos nuclear scientist disappears” sounds alarming.
“Administrative employee at Los Alamos disappears” is still serious, but it conveys a very different relationship to nuclear secrets.
That is exactly the kind of distinction federal investigators now have to make across the entire list.
Institutional affiliation alone does not tell investigators what information someone possessed.
Working at NASA does not necessarily mean having classified access.
Working at Los Alamos does not necessarily mean designing nuclear weapons.
Working at a defense facility does not necessarily mean knowing its most sensitive programs.
Even having a security clearance at some point in a career does not establish that current foreign adversaries would have reason to target someone years later.
That does not mean counterintelligence concerns should be dismissed.
The United States has genuine foreign intelligence adversaries.
China, Russia, Iran and other governments actively seek American military and technological information.
Researchers and defense personnel can be espionage targets.
Protecting people with access to strategic technology is a legitimate national-security responsibility.
That is why Comer and Burlison were justified in asking whether federal agencies had examined the cases collectively.
The strongest version of their concern is not:
Thirteen scientists were obviously assassinated.
It is:
If several people with genuinely sensitive knowledge have died or disappeared, the government should check whether any cases overlap before assuming they are unrelated.
That is a reasonable oversight question.
It becomes speculation only when the investigation itself is treated as proof that the feared connection exists.
The House Oversight Committee did not do that in its formal April 20 letter.
It specifically described the public reporting as unconfirmed and asked the agencies for information.
Burlison has used stronger language publicly.
He said the cases had “hallmarks of a foreign operation” and mentioned hostile countries as potential areas investigators should consider.
Those comments express his concern.
They are not an FBI conclusion.
FBI Director Kash Patel has been more conditional.
He said investigators would look for links and examine the possibility of foreign actors.
If they discovered evidence of criminal conspiracy or other wrongdoing, Patel said, the bureau would act.
That is what an investigation is supposed to do.
Test possibilities.
Compare evidence.
Discard theories that do not fit.
And pursue connections that do.
Trump’s April 30 update suggests that the review was moving away from the idea of one grand explanation.
He emphasized the sheer size of the American scientific workforce.
Ten unusual cases sound alarming when placed next to one another.
They look different when placed against a population of hundreds of thousands of scientists, engineers, technical workers and people employed throughout the defense and aerospace enterprise.
That is a statistical point, not a dismissal of individual tragedies.
In any sufficiently large professional population, people will die from illness.
Some will die in accidents.
Some will take their own lives.
Some will become victims of unrelated crimes.
Some will disappear.
The existence of a cluster assembled after the fact does not establish that its incidence exceeds what would normally be expected.
Skeptics examining the viral list have made precisely that argument.
They say proponents selected unusual cases and then inferred that the shared presence of technical or government-related employment must be causal.
That phenomenon is sometimes described as apophenia—the human tendency to perceive meaningful patterns among events that may actually be unrelated.
But invoking apophenia should not become the opposite kind of shortcut either.
Several people really are missing.
One important MIT scientist really was murdered.
A retired Air Force general really vanished.
A JPL materials engineer really disappeared on a hike.
Casias’ remains really were found nearly a year after she vanished.
Those facts deserve investigation on their own terms.
The key is refusing to force every case into the same explanation before the evidence supports it.
Matthew Sullivan’s case demonstrates that balance well.
His death was officially ruled accidental.
That finding carries substantial evidentiary weight.
Burlison nevertheless had questions because of Sullivan’s intelligence background and reports that he intended to discuss highly sensitive UAP matters with Congress.
Asking the FBI to verify the circumstances is reasonable.
Saying Sullivan was killed to stop his testimony would be a much larger claim for which public evidence has not been produced.
The same principle applies to Loureiro.
A brilliant fusion scientist was murdered.
That is shocking.
But authorities identified his killer and connected that individual with another mass shooting.
Unless evidence emerges showing Loureiro was targeted because of fusion research, his occupation alone cannot establish the motive.
Grillmair was an accomplished astrophysicist.
His killing deserves justice.
But authorities charged an individual with murder and burglary, and his own widow rejects the larger conspiracy theory.
His scientific achievements do not automatically convert an apparent violent crime into an attack on American space research.
LeBlanc worked on nuclear propulsion.
He also died in a vehicle crash.
Thomas worked in advanced pharmaceutical research.
Authorities found no evidence of foul play in his drowning.
Casias worked at one of America’s most sensitive laboratories.
Her actual role was administrative.
When those details are restored, the “13 scientists” narrative begins looking less like one case and more like what investigators are actually dealing with:
A collection of individual cases, some solved, some partly explained and some genuinely mysterious.
That does not mean the federal review was pointless.
Quite the opposite.
The FBI is one of the institutions capable of checking things local investigators cannot easily see.
Phone records across jurisdictions.
Foreign intelligence indicators.
Cyber activity.
Common contacts.
Travel patterns.
Security-clearance histories.
Financial links.
Threat reporting.
And classified connections invisible to the general public.
If a hidden relationship exists, a federal cross-case review is one reasonable way to identify it.
If none exists, the same review can prevent speculation from hardening into accepted fact.
Trump appears to be signaling that the latter possibility is increasingly likely.
But his statement was preliminary.
He did not say every investigation had been closed.
He did not say every disappearance had been solved.
He promised additional information.
And the FBI previously said its review remained active.
So there are two mistakes to avoid.
The first is declaring that America is clearly facing a coordinated campaign to eliminate scientists.
There is currently no public evidence establishing that.
The second is declaring that because no broad conspiracy has been found, every individual case is fully explained.
That is also false.
Monica Reza remains missing.
Neil McCasland remains a major unresolved disappearance in the public record.
Other missing-person investigations remain important.
Casias’ death still required a determination of cause and manner when her remains were identified.
Those cases deserve answers regardless of whether they belong to one national-security plot.
The most revealing detail may therefore be the changing language from the government itself.
In mid-April, Trump said he hoped the cases were merely coincidence and described the issue as serious.
Congress asked agencies to examine whether something sinister might be occurring.
The FBI began comparing cases.
By April 30, Trump was saying investigators were finding “not much of a connection.”
That is what an investigation can look like when evidence starts replacing speculation.
An alarming hypothesis produces scrutiny.
The scrutiny tests the hypothesis.
And the early answer may be less dramatic than the original theory.
That is not a failure.
It is the point.
If investigators eventually identify a foreign intelligence operation, criminal conspiracy or common actor, the implications would be enormous.
The government should disclose as much as national-security and criminal-investigation rules permit.
But if the FBI ultimately concludes that accidents, suicide, unrelated homicides, medical events and ordinary missing-person circumstances explain most or all of the cases, that conclusion deserves equal weight.
The evidence should determine the story.
Not the other way around.
For now, the strongest conclusion is narrower than either extreme.
A number of Americans associated to varying degrees with important scientific and national-security institutions have died or disappeared over several years.
Some individual circumstances remain unexplained.
Federal officials appropriately examined whether those cases were connected.
So far, according to Trump, they have found little evidence that they are.
And the famous “13 scientists” count itself obscures how different the people and circumstances actually were.
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There may still be mysteries here.
The evidence does not currently establish one mystery connecting them all.