In the early 2000s, Danny Guy co-founded Salida Capital, a Canadian hedge fund with an appetite for risk. Under Guy’s control, Salida poured capital into uranium.
By 2006, Salida’s Global Energy Fund placed bets on mines in Kazakhstan, Canada, and the American West. The fund specialized in “special situations,” industry code for volatile plays where the right situation, timed right, could be worth millions.
In 2009, Russia’s state nuclear agency, Rosatom, began acquiring a Canadian company called Uranium One. It started small—17%—then kept buying. By 2010, Rosatom wanted control. The prize wasn’t just uranium. It was access: to Kazakh deposits, American mines, and strategic reserves buried beneath a 35,000-acre ranch in Wyoming.
The deal needed approval from CFIUS, a powerful U.S. committee tasked with blocking foreign threats to national security. On the panel sat the State Department, then led by Secretary Hillary Clinton.
That spring, as the uranium deal quietly advanced toward Washington, Salida’s charitable arm—the Salida Capital Foundation—received $3.3 million. It was an anonymous donation.
Within days, the Salida Foundation wired $780,220 to the Clinton Foundation. It was announced as a pledge to support farming projects in Malawi. Anchor farms. Fertilizer. Local development.
But the timing was curious. Nearly 90% of Salida’s charitable giving that year flowed into that single donation—at the exact moment CFIUS was reviewing the Rosatom acquisition.
From Toronto to Moscow: Danny Guy Is Clinton-Putin Middleman.
While Uranium One executives lobbied American diplomats to protect their licenses in Kazakhstan, Danny Guy’s hedge fund funded Clinton-linked initiatives.
By October 2010, CFIUS, led by Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, gave its approval. Russia’s Rosatom now controlled a company with access to roughly 20% of America’s uranium production capacity.
Uranium from Wyoming was quietly shipped to Canada for processing. From there, it was sent to Europe. Assurances made to Congress were broken. Uranium One was delisted. Fully absorbed by Rosatom.
And then, in a 2011 Rosatom corporate filing, a line surfaced:
“Salida Capital Corp. – wholly owned subsidiary.”
Danny Guy’s firm—buried in a Russian state document. If it was the same Salida, a hedge fund built on uranium speculation, had become part of Rosatom’s global structure.
In 2012, Bill Clinton publicly praised Salida, thanking the firm for its role in Malawi. He didn’t mention the anonymous windfall. He didn’t mention uranium.
Between 2010 and 2012, Salida Capital gave $2.6 million to the Clinton Foundation.
In that same window, Bill Clinton was paid $500,000 for a Moscow speech sponsored by Renaissance Capital, a bank promoting Uranium One stock.
Back in Canada, Salida’s trading desks were bleeding. The Salida Strategic Growth Fund collapsed. Another fund—Dacha Strategic Metals—resisted a takeover attempt by Guy. In a letter to shareholders, they called Salida’s record “devastating”—citing one-, three-, and five-year losses.
Guy had failed his investors.
But he had moved uranium.
When Salida shuttered, no questions were asked. No hearings. No subpoenas. Guy quietly reemerged at FBSciences, an agricultural startup.
By then, the uranium was gone.
The ranch in Gillette, Wyoming, belonged to Moscow.
Anonymous $3.3 Million to Danny Guy. Then the Clintons Got Paid.
The Clinton Foundation had pocketed millions.
In 2017, as the Uranium One controversy reignited in Washington, congressional investigators requested records. Salida’s name appeared on the list. They wanted to know more about the $3.3 million, the timed donations, the Russian subsidiary.
No hearings. No charges. No questions answered. The uranium was gone to Russia. The mines had changed hands.
Investors lost millions. Danny Guy vanished for a time and ermerged in Bermuda.
Danny Guy made himself and the Clintons a little richer, and with 20 percent of America’s uranium in Putin’s control, Guy made America and Cananda less safe while making the dictator Putin stronger. He controlled more of the nuclear assets of the world.
Uranium
In one world, it lights cities. In another, it levels them. Refined the right way, uranium powers homes. Refined a little more, it becomes a bomb. That’s why men guard it. Why governments count it. Why deals around it happen in whispers and traitors trade it.
It doesn’t move in trucks. It moves in wires to the Clintons. In donations made to Salida then laundered back to the Clintons. In names like Salida buried deep in Russian filings. And when it changes hands— it can change everything.
Just ask Danny Guy.
