Scam empire exposed inside global investment fraud network operations
By Anita Mathur
When Annika Gustafs on first heard the warm and charismatic voice of Anthony Adams over the phone, she felt an instant connection. He asked her to call him “Tony,” and he always addressed her as “dear.” He shared personal dreams of seeing the Northern Lights and even promised to visit her in Sweden.
As a retired journalist in her late 60s, Annika was facing financial hardship-she needed costly dental work but lacked the savings to cover it.
When she came across a Facebook advertisement promoting a lucrative new investment opportunity in October 2023, it seemed like a lifeline. That was when Anthony entered her life.
He claimed to be a senior financial adviser based in the UK, passionate about helping beginner investors navigate the stock market and cryptocurrency. His charm and apparent expertise quickly won Annika’s trust. But within five months, she had lost all her savings, was drowning in debt, and contemplating suicide.
“Anthony Adams” was not a seasoned British investor. He was a scammer operating from a call center in Tbilisi, Georgia-part of a vast and highly organized fraud network that has been exploiting victims across the globe for years.
These schemes flourish due to the ease of setting up international call centers and the difficulties law enforcement faces in tracking cybercriminals across borders.
Experts estimate that online investment fraud siphons hundreds of billions of dollars annually from unsuspecting victims worldwide.
Now, for the first time, an unprecedented leak has provided journalists with an inside look at how these sophisticated scams operate. A trove of internal documents, financial records, computer screen recordings, and over 20,000 hours of recorded phone calls was obtained and analyzed by OCCRP and its partners.
The files reveal the mechanics of two major scam networks-one based in Georgia and another with operations spanning Israel and multiple European countries.
While no direct link was found between the two groups, their methods and scale were strikingly similar.
The numbers are staggering. According to financial records, the Georgian operation alone received $35.3 million from over 6,179 victims between May 2022 and February 2025.
The Israeli-European network amassed even more-raking in $240 million from more than 26,000 victims across 33 countries between January 2021 and December 2024. Their primary targets resided in Canada, Spain, Australia, the UK, and South Africa.
The scam industry is not just about fraudulent call centers. It is supported by an entire ecosystem of service providers, some legitimate and others explicitly catering to scammers.
Online “neobanks” and voice-over-IP services help scammers appear credible. Specialized firms manufacture fake invoices and provide access to shell companies and offshore bank accounts, allowing fraudsters to sidestep banking regulations.
Meanwhile, a booming online marketing sector supplies the scam operations with a constant stream of potential victims.
“These call centers are structured like professional businesses,” said Nino Goldbeck, a senior public prosecutor in Bavaria who specializes in cybercrime. “They have excellent IT systems, rigorous accounting, and an operational structure that often surpasses many legal companies.”
Scammers take advantage of weak international regulatory frameworks, setting up companies in minutes, laundering money through complex webs of transactions, and targeting victims worldwide with little risk of prosecution.
According to an investigator from Spain’s Mossos d’Esquadra, investment fraud now rivals drug trafficking in profitability-offering enormous returns with minimal danger.
The fallout from these scams is devastating. Reporters reached out to 182 individuals who had been targeted by the Georgian and Israeli-European networks.
Of these, 166 confirmed they had been defrauded, collectively losing over $21 million. Alarmingly, 85 of these victims reported their cases to the police, yet few saw any justice.
Victims range from retirees like Annika to young professionals and even experienced investors who were deceived by the scammers’ slick presentations and fake financial dashboards.
Many, like Annika, were left in financial ruin, struggling with shame and psychological distress.“I was devastated, absolutely devastated,” Annika recounted. “I felt so stupid, betrayed, and ashamed. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time. I didn’t want to live anymore.”
Annika’s nightmare began with a seemingly innocuous Facebook ad that featured a well-known Swedish television personality touting a “new investment opportunity.” It appeared to be a credible news article, even citing Aftonbladet, a major Swedish newspaper.
When Annika clicked the link and entered her contact details, she unwittingly became a “lead” in the scam industry’s elaborate marketing funnel.
Her contact information was sold to a fraudulent investment platform called “Golden Currencies,” which had a professional-looking website but no legitimate corporate backing.
British regulators later warned that it was a “clone” firm designed to mimic a real investment company.
The leaked files reveal this is a common strategy. Hundreds of marketing firms supply scam centers with leads, and fraudsters pay hefty sums for high-value targets.
According to an internal spreadsheet, scammers were willing to pay $1,350 for each Swedish lead, one of the highest rates worldwide.
Annika’s name was sold to A.K. Group, a Tbilisi-based scam operation with three offices in the Georgian capital. Employees were mostly young, multilingual workers who underwent intensive training on how to impersonate financial advisers.
Anthony Adams likely worked from the company’s largest office on Kavtaradze Street, a tree-lined boulevard in a Soviet-era residential area.
The call center functioned much like a legitimate business-staff clocked in and out, attended office parties, and underwent performance reviews. Yet, beneath the façade, the employees were fully aware of their deception.
To maintain secrecy, workers used code names even in internal documents. Their bonuses were tied directly to the amount of money they extracted from victims. High performers made over $20,000 per month-an astronomical sum in Georgia, where the average monthly salary is around $750.
This illicit wealth enabled scammers to enjoy lavish lifestyles, complete with designer clothes, luxury vacations, and expensive cars. Some flaunted their riches on social media, showing off diamond jewelry and extravagant weddings.
The scam operation was structured like a well-oiled sales team. Fresh recruits, known as the “conversion team,” cold-called potential victims and quickly passed them to more experienced “retention agents” if they showed interest.
These senior scammers presented themselves as financial authorities, convincing victims to make an initial investment. Once money was deposited, the retention team applied psychological tactics to extract more funds-often persuading victims to take out loans or liquidate their savings.
Despite the enormous financial and emotional toll these scams inflict, justice remains elusive. Scammers exploit legal loopholes, shifting operations between countries and using sophisticated money laundering tactics to avoid detection.
Authorities have struggled to dismantle these networks. While some arrests have been made in Europe and Israel, the industry continues to thrive due to its ability to rapidly adapt and relocate. Regulators worldwide are calling for stronger international cooperation to combat online fraud, but enforcement remains a challenge.
For victims like Annika, the consequences are irreversible. She will never recover the money she lost, and the emotional scars run deep. Her story is a stark reminder that behind every financial fraud statistic is a human life, forever changed by the ruthless pursuit of profit.
As cybercriminals refine their tactics, it is clear that urgent action is needed. Until then, the global scam empire will continue to claim new victims, one phone call at a time.
