Calling a Scammer Boss By His REAL Name—Live On CCTV!

Picture this: A scam call center boss, quietly playing games on his iPhone, completely unaware that in a few minutes, his entire operation will be exposed. Not only will I hack his computer and open his webcam, but I’ll call him out by his real name—live, with all his employees watching. And as the panic unfolds, I’ll let him know the FBI is coming for him.

How I Tracked Down the Scammers

It started with a hunt for scam phone numbers. I found a network of fake printer support websites, designed to trick people into downloading useless drivers or paying for bogus firewall security. Most victims are just regular users searching “HP printer driver download” or “HP support”—but instead of landing on an official site, they’re greeted by slick, sponsored scam links.

The scam works like this:

You enter your printer model
The site shows a fake progress bar
An error message pops up, urging you to join a support chat

Once you’re on the phone, the scammers convince you to install remote access software. But when they try to connect to my computer, I reverse the connection and hack into theirs—gaining full access to their screens, files, and even their webcams.

Inside the Call Center

From the inside, I saw it all: scammers eating, sleeping, dancing, and stealing from victims. Their phone system recorded every call, and their habit of remotely accessing each other’s computers gave me the perfect opportunity to pivot deeper into their network.

I intercepted a call where they tried to scam an elderly man out of hundreds of dollars. I jumped in, warned him, and saved him from losing his money. But their computers were filled with evidence of previous scams—photos of credit card payments, checks, and invoices that would make any data broker salivate.

Identifying the Bosses

While watching their CCTV feeds, I noticed a company name on the door: Digital Edge Institute. A quick search revealed two co-founders—Panage and Aadesh—with LinkedIn profiles that matched the faces I saw on camera. Panage was the main boss, often conducting private meetings and being treated like royalty in the office. Aadesh showed up less frequently, but both were clearly running the show.

After waiting for the right moment, I hacked into a computer outside the office—tracing it to an apartment complex in New Delhi. Jackpot! It was Panage’s personal machine, and I downloaded everything: salary slips, ID cards, scam recordings, and photos of both bosses standing in the call center.

Following the Money

These scammers weren’t just targeting the US. They went after victims in Austria, the UK, Canada, Australia, and Hong Kong. Through their AWS servers (which they foolishly left logged in), I exported confidential files, attendance sheets, company registrations, and bank statements. Their PayPal account showed over $300,000 stolen in just 90 days—and a total of $1.4 million over three years.

Their Google AdWords campaigns targeted keywords like “printer support,” “Norton,” and “Netgear,” spending thousands each month to lure vulnerable users. The return on investment? An insane 1,200%—with employees earning less than 2% of what they stole, while the bosses pocketed the rest.

Pinpointing Their Location

Using Wi-Fi triangulation and CCTV footage, I confirmed the scammers were operating from Tower B, fourth floor, room 46 of the IUM Towers in Noida, a suburb of New Delhi. Even Panage’s LinkedIn profile banner showed a photo of the building. I reported everything to the building management, ensuring they knew about the criminal activity happening right under their noses.

The LIVE Confrontation

With all the evidence in hand, it was time for the ultimate showdown. I called the scammers, pretending to need support, and remotely executed a picture of Panage on every computer screen in the office—while he was standing right behind them.

“Do you know Panage? Pass the phone to him. Look at this face—Panage, I know you’re in the IUM Tower, I know you’re scamming people. Why are you doing this?”

I listed off the names of his employees, called out Aadesh, and let them know I had access to everything.

“I’m sending the FBI to your office. Millions of people are going to see this.”

Panic erupted. They scrambled to disconnect, covered webcams, unplugged internet cables, and tried to shut down their systems. But it was too late—their secrets were out.

Total Destruction

I reported their Google AdSense account, their websites, their chat support, and their remote access tools. I contacted Zoho Assist, who banned their accounts, and reported their PayPal fraud in real time. No more payments, no more victims.

I emailed every victim I found, explaining how to get their money back. And I uploaded all the incriminating data to a private drive shared with FBI contacts.

Why This Matters

Most victims never realize they’ve been scammed. These call centers prey on the vulnerable—grandparents, everyday people just trying to fix their printer. By exposing their bosses, tracing their finances, and destroying their infrastructure, we protect thousands from future scams.

If you ever need tech support, never trust a random Google ad. Use security tools like Aura to protect your data and stay vigilant.

Conclusion:

When you call a scammer boss by his real name, live on CCTV, you shatter the illusion of safety they hide behind. With every piece of evidence, every exposed secret, and every panicked reaction, you remind the world that justice can—and will—catch up.

Scammers, your time is up. The world is watching, and the FBI is knocking.