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Gather around, kids, the old guy has quite a yarn, as they used to say! My story is far too long for a single article, and at the current time, remains incomplete. So in the spirit of Netflix and Apple TV, it will be told in a series of episodes. Today is:

EPISODE 1: THE BACKSTORY AND SETUP

This is a long and convoluted tale of intrigue, bizarre lies, and feelings of personal violation. And it all centers on…moi, your humble writer and editor. I am telling you about this, despite feeling immensely stupid and naïve, so that maybe you can avoid the same experience of prolonged dismay, dread and fear that I suffered through for, literally, months. Also: to alert you to the complexity and time those faceless, anonymous scammers are willing to invest in executing their grift.

The story begins with a phone call one morning at the end of March. I was in bed. My caller ID said: “Amex.” In the back of my mind, a little voice murmured, “Uh-oh”—because as a rule, unsolicited calls from Amex typically do not bear good news. And sure enough, the person on the line said, “This is the American Express fraud department. We want to confirm a charge made on one of your cards.” I’ve received these kinds of calls before, both from Amex and from my bank. I’ve always appreciated the diligence, because sometimes they were verifying legitimate purchases, but also, sometimes not. This time, it seemed, was the latter.

They asked if I had purchased seven firearms from Gunbroker.com, for a total of $3,790. I most certainly had NOT. “Are you certain,” they asked, “that you didn’t use your card ending in 8311 for this?” I was very certain—for one thing, I’m not a gun guy; and for another, I do not even own an American Express card ending in 8311. “You did not recently open this American Express account at 200 Vesey Street in New York City?” she asked. I did not, I replied.

This launched my journey down a long, dark, convoluted, and stressful rabbit hole. I’m going to retrospectively take you with me, in the hopes that it increases your awareness about fraud and prevents any resultant financial mishap. I consider myself to be relatively savvy when it comes to hacks, spoofing, and phishing. Like everyone else, I am regularly subjected to clumsy attempts (unpaid tolls! subscription to Norton antivirus! PayPal invoice!) to obtain my personal information and my money. And less frequently, I have had to replace cards because unauthorized charges have shown up, but were flagged by me or the bank. But, as my son pointed out on Father’s Day when I related this tale to him, I am the demographic that is frequently targeted for scamming: ageing and Asian. This experience was carefully orchestrated and like nothing I had previously experienced.

As we go through this, I’m going to comment in bold parentheses about clues that I should have recognized and actions I might have taken that would have revealed the shady underpinnings early on. These annotations would be my advice should something similar happen to you. This would be a good time to insert my first comment:

(Given the alarming nature of what these “American Express” representatives were telling me—and I spoke to at least three—the prudent thing would have been to hang up, and dial the American Express number on the back of my card directly. Navigate the phone tree to the fraud department. And once I was there, confirm the report received in the unsolicited phone call was indeed from Amex.)

I did not do this. In my defense, as I mentioned above, I have received these kinds of alert calls from my financial institutions before, and they were legitimate checks. I was therefore lulled into complacency, letting my guard down, and I took the call at face value. (DON’T DO THIS; BE SKEPTICAL AND TRUST NO ONE YOU HAVE NOT CONTACTED YOURSELF.)

The original “Amex” agent handed me off to her “supervisor,” who stated that given the seriously alarming nature of the purported purchases—firearms—they were connecting me directly to Federal authorities. (Again: do NOT trust any direct forwarding of calls. Hang up, and dial the designated authorities yourself. The numbers are readily available.) In my case, I was connected by “Amex” to the “New York Office of the FBI.” The person who answered was ostensibly the duty agent for financial institutions suspecting serious fraud (implicit throughout my recounting here will be the word “ostensibly,” because it is likely that no one was really who they said they were).

THE PLOT THICKENS. CONSIDERABLY.

The person to whom I was connected was (…ostensibly) “Special Agent Camilla Esparza.” She listened to my description of what “American Express” had told me. She then (ostensibly) entered the information into her FBI computer and revealed some shocking news: MY name was associated with a Chase Bank account in New York that was identified as having received large sums (i.e., tens of millions of dollars) in laundered money from an elaborate criminal network that stole money from innocent people and institutions across the country. She told me I was flagged as a suspect in an ongoing FBI investigation.

To say that I was stunned/flabbergasted/gobsmacked would be a significant understatement. On the one hand, the notion that an insignificantly obscure retired Federal scientist would decide to begin a second career as an organized crime kingpin was beyond absurd.

On the other hand, it felt supremely unwise to laugh at/ignore a person identifying herself as an FBI Special Agent. Especially one who was telling me that there was sufficient evidence against me to bring me into Federal custody. And so, my brief career as an international money-laundering suspect was launched. Special Agent Esparza had specific, detailed instructions for me. These would burden my life and times for the next three months.

TO BE CONTINUED…