An American-"ish" cargo theft story. How freight theft became an industry.
Yesterday, Janjua Transport's Paramvir Singh admits to $7.2M cargo theft conspiracy it's far from the only case of trucking fraud or theft. Four cases, six years, one industry vulnerability.
Noon in Miami
At 8:39 on the morning of January 8, 2021, an email landed at a freight brokerage in Fort Myers, Florida. The sender was Luis D. Lopez III, a Miami man who owned a family of trucking and logistics companies, and the message revived a thread that had gone quiet ten days earlier over a frozen load of White Claw. Lopez disagreed with the brokerage’s decision to withhold his payment over that claim, and he had news. Two loads his companies had picked up the day before, forty-two thousand pounds of fresh pork out of Eagle Grove, Iowa, and 840 cases of eggs out of North Manchester, Indiana, would be unloaded at his warehouse and placed under cargo liens unless the brokerage wired him money by noon. He gave them three hours and twenty-one minutes.
The brokerage was Scotlynn USA Division, a produce-heavy operation with a federal property broker license and customers who expected their pork in Medley, Florida, and their eggs at a Kroger facility in Houston. The people at Scotlynn did the math every broker does when someone else’s truck holds their customer’s freight, and they folded. “For the loads that you are holding hostage, we will need confirmation your drivers are at the deliveries before we can release Comchecks,” a Scotlynn executive wrote at 11:37 a.m. Two minutes later, Lopez replied: “Ok agreed. We need payment to post so please do wire.”
What happened at the Kroger yard that afternoon was a hostage negotiation. At 1:23 p.m. a dispatcher named Adrian Dunning wrote that the driver was checking back in, adding, “They are advised not to unload until payment is received, Thank You!!” At 1:38: “They are checked in, Awaiting payment to continue with delivery.” At 1:48 Scotlynn transmitted a Comcheck code for $3,000. The driver had sat so long the delivery window closed, and the eggs missed their appointment anyway.
Nobody involved called the police. Scotlynn paid $14,000 that week to keep two loads of food moving, and eleven months later it would pay $41,271 more in a nearly identical squeeze involving a grocery load, a cranberry load, and a trailer of deli meat, one of which was offloaded at an undisclosed warehouse whose location, a Biagi Bros facility in Oklahoma City, was released only after Scotlynn paid a $230 storage fee. When Scotlynn finally sued in March 2022, it pleaded the conduct as racketeering, with Hobbs Act extortion and theft from interstate shipment as predicate acts. The industry has a sterile phrase for freight used as leverage: a carrier-initiated cargo lien dispute. The word Scotlynn’s own people used in the emails, hostage, is the accurate one.
That lawsuit settled in four and a half months with no findings, no admissions, and a confidential number, after four of the summonses came back unexecuted because process servers couldn’t find anybody at the addresses. Every allegation in it remains exactly that, an allegation. It matters here for a different reason. The Scotlynn case is the earliest complete specimen in this story of a business model that, over the following four years, would spread across the country, harden into organized crime, attract federal grand juries in four districts, and eventually put a signed confession on a docket in Los Angeles. This is the story of how freight theft became an industry, told by the people who ran it, sued over it, investigated it, and finally admitted it, in their own filed words.
The front door
To understand why any of this works, start with how easy it is to become a trucking company. A motor carrier’s entire public identity is a USDOT number and, for for-hire interstate work, an MC number, both issued by the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration. The registration process verifies that forms were filled out and fees were paid. It does not verify that the applicant intends to deliver anything. Once the authority is active and insurance is on file, the carrier can enroll on load boards, the digital marketplaces where brokers post freight, and sign carrier packets with brokerages that will tender it loads worth twenty, fifty, four hundred times the cost of the registration. The industry’s entire trust architecture, the rate confirmation, the bill of lading, the carrier packet, assumes the entity behind the paperwork wants the next load more than this one. Every case in this story is a different way of breaking that assumption.
The men who broke it were not outsiders. In each of these cases, the thief was the carrier, or the man who owned the carrier, or the man who owned twelve carriers. The trucks were real, the licenses were real, the drivers had CDLs, and the paperwork was clean because the people generating it knew exactly what clean paperwork looks like. I’ve spent my career on the carrier side of these transactions, driving, dispatching, running fleets, and later reconstructing them for lawyers. These aren’t stories about hackers. They’re stories about freight people.
Columbus: the warehouse on Fisher Road
Gurtej Singh came to the United States in 1998, a twenty-year-old cricket player from Punjab who, according to the sentencing memorandum his lawyers later filed, sought political asylum after his advocacy for the Sikh religious minority put him at risk of violence from police in India. He got the asylum, built a life in Delaware, Ohio, married in 2010, raised two children, volunteered in the food pantry at his Sikh temple, and became a naturalized citizen in 2021. He also built trucking companies. He managed Cargo Solution Express and owned Bhullar Transport Group, Roadhawk Transportation, and Show Time Carrier, and his 2023 federal indictment placed those firms inside a much larger constellation of related motor carriers, companies the government said shared owners, managers, employees, drivers, and trucks at various times and in varying combinations. The names in that list included Eagle Eye Express, Best Carrier, Bal Carrier, 3 Bros, Sunshine Cargo, Direct Haul Carrier, and one that readers of this publication will recognize: Kal Freight Inc.
The operation ran through a warehouse with multiple truck docks at 4540 Fisher Road in Columbus. What happened inside it, per the indictment Singh was charged under and the superseding information he eventually pled to, was a manufacturing process for invisible theft. CSE drivers hauling sealed trailers were directed to stop at the warehouse. Shippers seal trailers precisely so receivers can verify nobody opened them in transit, so Singh’s employees didn’t break the seals. They removed the entire trailer locking mechanism, hardware, hasp, and seal together, sometimes cutting and replacing bolts, opened the doors, took what they wanted, and reinstalled the mechanism with the seal intact. On April 10, 2018, one employee texted another a photo of a trailer door handle sitting loose with its seal still attached, which is as concise a piece of evidence as a conspiracy ever produces. Six weeks later, they pulled more than 150 Shark robot vacuums off a load. That September an employee texted around the address and phone number of a Lev’s Pawn Shop branch on East Main Street. In October it was dozens of Samsung 32-inch curved monitors.
The companion scheme was subtler and, for shippers, more expensive. CSE and Bhullar sold customers exclusive-use service at a premium, a full trailer, sealed at origin, opened by nobody until destination. The plain business term is a full truckload, and the industry calls it FTL. Singh’s companies charged the FTL premium and then consolidated those loads anyway, cracking trailers, commingling freight, and covering the tracks with correction fluid and taped paper over seal numbers on the shipping documents, then writing in new ones. They ran specialized software to track whose cargo was in which trailer so shipments could be separated near destination and delivered as if the consolidation never happened. Shippers paid for exclusivity, received commingling, and ate the loss and theft exposure that came with it.
It ended the way these things end, which is to say almost by accident. Police investigating suspected theft visited the warehouse and found pallets of undelivered product, roughly $500,000 worth by the government’s account, some boxes torn open. Several computer monitors from a stolen shipment were boxed on pallets. Two more were set up and in use at the warehouse itself. The restitution order eventually filed in the case reads like a cross-section of the American consumer economy: Bath & Body Works, $40,775. Allianz Commercial, $180,000. Landstar, $9,000. National Presto, $269. MegaCorp Logistics, Transfix, XPO, and Amazon, which needed a special survey just to figure out what it couldn’t resell. Total: $261,751.70.
Singh pled guilty in February 2024 to one count of conspiracy to commit wire fraud under 18 U.S.C. § 371, waiving indictment on a superseding information that replaced the original three-statute indictment. His lawyers asked for probation, describing a man whose asylum-to-citizenship arc deserved weight and arguing the offense occurred under circumstances unlikely to recur since he’d shrunk his business. The government asked for twenty-four months and pushed back hard on the reformed-man framing, noting prior convictions for burglary and grand theft and, in a detail prosecutors clearly enjoyed including, a February 2023 Instagram post of two tactical rifles, two handguns, and extended magazines that Singh, a felon, captioned in response to a question with “100% real.” Chief Judge Sarah Morrison of the Southern District of Ohio sentenced him in September 2024 to twelve months and one day, followed by three years of supervised release. He reported in, began paying restitution, completed his community service, and by January 2026 his probation officer was recommending the court approve a family trip to Punjab to help care for his mother-in-law after surgery. The judge signed it.
Hold the two ends of that case next to each other, because the distance between them is the economics of this entire crime wave. A four-year scheme with mechanical sophistication, purpose-built software, and a victim list of household names, resolved for a year and a day. The National Motor Freight Traffic Association’s Ben Wilkens told WIRED this summer that cargo theft is a high-reward, low-risk crime. The Columbus docket is that sentence with a case number on it.
The Inland Empire: the man who owned the carrier
While Gurtej Singh was skimming sealed trailers in Ohio, a different Singh, no established relation, was setting up in Southern California. On October 21, 2020, a corporation called Janjua Transport was filed with the California Secretary of State, entity number 4656140, its registered agent a man named Paramvir Singh, its address a six-bedroom house on a cul-de-sac at 13859 Oak Leaf Way in Rancho Cucamonga. Eleven months later, according to the plea agreement Singh signed on August 11 of this year, the conspiracy began.
The scheme, as Singh admitted it, needed no warehouse tricks. He and his co-conspirators would create or purchase a carrier company holding federal operating authority, enroll it on load boards and with freight brokers, and book freight like any legitimate carrier. A tractor, typically bearing the carrier’s name, would arrive at the shipper’s dock. A driver would sign the agreement to deliver the cargo to a particular place by a particular date and receive it into his trailer. Then the load simply wouldn’t arrive, or part of it wouldn’t. The industry’s term for booking a load with no intention of delivering it is strategic cargo theft, and the version where the thief shows up wearing a legitimate carrier’s identity is a fictitious pickup. The plea agreement’s version is barer: they signed for the cargo, and they stole it.
The overt acts Singh admitted trace a five-year learning curve. It started with skims: February 2, 2022, a pickup in Walnut on behalf of Janjua Transport, partial delivery to Dinuba, $236,162.71 kept. Then a step up in logistics: March 12, 2022, three men purporting to work for Janjua pick up in Fontana and, with Singh present, offload the cargo into separate vehicles at a nearby storage facility, $185,734.40. Then vertical integration into fencing: August 1, 2022, Singh personally sells stolen high-end consumer electronics to a buyer for $362,597. Through the fall of 2022, he worked a run out of Moreno Valley, five pickups between September 17 and October 29, none delivered, $1.13 million combined, loads bound for Utah, Texas, and destinations twenty minutes away that might as well have been on the moon. The scale peak came on June 23, 2023, when Singh and two others moved a single trailer of stolen cargo to a truck yard in San Bernardino. The government values what was in that one trailer at $5,000,000. A year later, the operation was still running and still improvising: in June 2024 Singh and a co-conspirator rented a U-Haul in Fontana using another man’s name and driver’s license and loaded it with stolen freight.
The corporate record at the Rancho Cucamonga house kept pace with the freight record. A second trucking corporation, American Elite Trucking Inc., was filed at the same address in May 2022, ten weeks after the Fontana storage-facility offload. In April 2024, a third corporation followed, and FMCSA records show an American Elite Freight Brokerage Inc. with a fresh authority, zero power units, and a San Bernardino County address, with Paramvir Singh as its officer of record. A carrier owner standing up a brokerage in year three of what he has now admitted was a theft conspiracy is a detail that deserves restraint, because the brokerage itself is charged with nothing, so I’ll state only what the registries state and let the timeline speak.
The civil system saw him before the grand jury did. In 2023, a company called BG Group LLC sued Janjua Transport and Paramvir Singh personally in Riverside County Superior Court, pleading breach of contract, an accounting, and a claim under California Penal Code § 496(c), the statute that lets a victim of stolen-property receipt sue civilly for treble damages. A private plaintiff was accusing this operation of trafficking in stolen property, in a public courthouse, roughly two years before the indictment. Whether any broker who tendered Janjua a load in 2024 ever looked is a question the vetting industry should sit with.
The end came in stages. A federal grand jury in Riverside returned a sealed indictment on September 19, 2025, charging seven men, five of them named Singh, with conspiracy to commit wire fraud, conspiracy to commit theft from interstate shipments, aggravated identity theft, and money laundering. On October 21, 2025, five years to the day after Janjua Transport was incorporated, the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department announced arrests in what it called the Singh Organization investigation, naming twelve people, crediting an FBI task force, the Riverside and Los Angeles County sheriffs, Fontana police, and the California Highway Patrol’s cargo theft program, and describing a crew that acquired or fraudulently used legitimate trucking companies to bid on authentic shipping contracts, primarily hauling electronics, appliances, and other high-value consumer goods that never arrived. Paramvir Singh, twenty-nine, of Rancho Cucamonga, was first on the list. The six-bedroom house on Oak Leaf Way was listed for sale in March 2025, the same month the charged conspiracy ended, at $1.6 million; by December, two months after the arrests, the asking price had dropped to $1,355,000. The indictment carries a forfeiture allegation.
The case has already leaked defendants the way these cases do. Court filings this spring disclosed that Harpreet Singh remains a fugitive and that Mandeep Singh was removed from the country and dismissed from the case without prejudice, a deportation outrunning a prosecution. The four remaining defendants, whose charges are allegations and who are presumed innocent, are set for trial on March 23, 2027, a date pushed back by discovery their own lawyers called extremely voluminous, some of it in a foreign language. Paramvir Singh signed his plea agreement on August 11. He’ll plead to the § 371 conspiracy count, a five-year statutory maximum, with the wire fraud, aggravated identity theft, and money laundering counts dismissed at sentencing. The aggravated identity theft counts each carried a mandatory two years consecutive, so the dismissal is the discount. The agreed loss is $7,210,056.37, restitution to match, and the government has reserved sentencing enhancements for sophisticated means and for an organized scheme to steal cargo, an enhancement the Sentencing Commission wrote for exactly this fact pattern. That’s measured, all of it, from the documents. This next part is my read: given the loss table, the enhancements, and acceptance credit, the guideline math lands above the statutory ceiling, which means the five-year cap is likely the whole ballgame, on a crime that admitted to seven figures.
Los Angeles: where the money meets the guns
Sixty miles west of Rancho Cucamonga, the same business model was running at a different altitude, inside an organization that federal agents say settles its commercial disputes with rifles. The story the government tells in United States v. Artuni, assembled from a 234-page Homeland Security Investigations affidavit and three successive indictments, is the ceiling of this industry, the place freight theft goes when it stops being a crew and becomes an enterprise. Everything in this chapter is an allegation. Sixteen defendants are charged, all are presumed innocent, and trial is not expected before mid-2027. The government’s account, under oath and in grand jury findings, goes like this.
Armenian Organized Crime, an offshoot of the Russian mafia whose members call their bosses avtoritet, made Los Angeles County, home to one of the largest Armenian populations outside Armenia and Russia, a center of its American operations. Two local leaders, Ara Artuni and Robert Amiryan, went to war over territory in the San Fernando Valley starting around 2022. The HSI affidavit’s table of contents alone is a body count. July 21, 2020: a murder in Burbank, with a second man surviving the attempt. October 25, 2022: an attempted murder at a Granada Hills residence. April 3, 2023: Amiryan shot at in his own garage. June 6 and 7, 2023: members of Amiryan’s group allegedly kidnap, assault, and torture an Artuni associate. June 12, 2023: a man shot while driving home. July 7, 2023: Amiryan shot while standing on his balcony, the incident that anchored the original attempted-murder-in-aid-of-racketeering complaint. Two more shootings that August. The affidavit, per reporting on it, describes Artuni as seeking to rise in the Armenian criminal world with the backing of the Mexican Mafia, and describes the strategic assignment of violence to non-Armenian street gang associates to frustrate law enforcement.
The freight scheme sits inside that architecture as a revenue division. Artuni Enterprise members and associates, the government alleges, enrolled with Amazon as carriers, contracted for trucking routes, and then, while transporting the goods, diverged from the route and stole all or part of the shipment. Amazon’s own estimate of its losses to the enterprise, cited in the government’s filings, exceeds $83 million. The same organization allegedly ran bank fraud, wire fraud, and a credit card bust-out operation, charging cards to a sham business and draining the account before the disputes landed. Structurally, the Amazon scheme is identical to what Paramvir Singh admitted: enroll as a carrier, take the load, divert. The difference is what surrounded it.
On May 20, 2025, thirteen people were arrested across California and Florida on five federal complaints. Agents seized about $100,000 in cash, fourteen firearms, and three armored vehicles. The case has since escalated through a grand jury three times: an initial indictment in June 2025 already charging a full RICO conspiracy under 18 U.S.C. § 1962(d), a first superseding in September, and a second superseding on October 7, 2025, now 126 pages, adding murder-for-hire under § 1958, firearms counts including discharge resulting in death, machinegun possession, and six more defendants, with aliases stacked four deep on the caption. Prosecutors from the U.S. Attorney’s transnational organized crime section signed the filings. In June 2026, the parties asked the court to move trial to June 15, 2027, citing the discovery mountain. Whatever a jury eventually decides, the indictment’s structural claim is the one this industry has to reckon with now: in the government’s telling, a licensed-carrier enrollment scheme and a murder-for-hire operation shared a ledger.
The paper men
One more figure belongs in this story, because he shows the version of the crime that never touches a truck. Serj Gevorgyan, prosecuted across two consolidated cases in the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, pled guilty in February 2025 to two distinct schemes. In the first, he defrauded two banks of roughly $970,000 through commercial loans to a shell company built on a synthetic identity: a person who did not exist assembled from pieces of people who did. In the second, per the government’s sentencing memorandum, he repeatedly obtained federal operating authority from the Department of Transportation for trucking companies that were shells performing no transportation at all. The shells took loads and re-contracted them to real, unsuspecting truckers. Some of those truckers were never paid. His own lawyers, in their sentencing filing, named the scheme in the industry’s own dialect: double-brokering skimming. He was sentenced this past March.
Gevorgyan matters because his victims complete the map. Shippers lose freight, brokers eat claims, insurers pay and subrogate, and at the bottom of the waterfall a one-truck owner-operator hauls a load in good faith for a company that was never real and never intended to pay him. When drivers tell you the load boards feel like a casino where the house cheats, this docket is what they mean. The registration system that let Paramvir Singh’s carriers book freight and let the Artuni Enterprise enroll with Amazon is the same system Gevorgyan monetized directly, no cargo required. Compliance is not safety, and a live MC number is not a business.
Why it works, and what it costs
The why of this story has three layers, and the court record supports each one. The first is structural. FMCSA registration is a filing system, not a vetting system, and the agency’s registration-fraud modernization has run years behind the criminals exploiting it. A DOT number costs almost nothing, transfers informally with a company purchase, and grants access to a marketplace where a single rate confirmation can be worth more than a house. Every scheme in this story entered through that door. Same trucks, same people, new paper; that is authority reincarnation, and the industry calls the operator a chameleon carrier; the cases here show its cousins, the purchased authority, the shell authority, the affiliated cluster, all walking through the same entrance.
The second layer is the freight itself. Food and beverage sat at the top of the theft tables for a decade because stolen food is perfect loot: no serial numbers, no activation pings, a deep cash resale market, and a claims environment so noisy with legitimate temperature rejections that skimming hides inside it. The White Claw load is the specimen: a $39,563.70 total loss, a carrier insisting its clean bills of lading ended the argument, and a paper fight that a determined operation could win just by exhausting everyone. The people and methods trained on pork and eggs and hard seltzer did not retire. When consumer electronics and, lately, AI hardware turned single trailers into seven-figure targets, the capability was already built. Paramvir Singh’s August 2022 electronics fence sale and his $5 million trailer are the retargeting, visible in a signed factual basis.
The third layer is the math, and it’s the one I keep returning to because it’s the one a policy audience can actually change. Gurtej Singh: household-name victims, purpose-built concealment, twelve months and a day. Paramvir Singh: $7.2 million admitted, statutory ceiling of five years, aggravated identity theft’s mandatory time negotiated away. One conspirator deported before trial, another still running. Scotlynn’s racketeering suit: settled confidential, no findings, ghosts never served. Insurance absorbs, rates rise, and the loss lands, as it always does, on shippers, on honest small carriers, and on consumers, in amounts the industry pegs in the billions annually and the court records can only sample. The deterrence question isn’t rhetorical. A rational operator reading these dockets would conclude the business still works.
The reason all of this matters to the people who move freight for a living is blunt: the thief in every one of these cases got the load because somebody’s vetting stopped at the paperwork. The rate confirmations were clean because the men writing them were freight professionals. The fix isn’t another form. It’s looking behind the authority, at the officers, the addresses, the filing clusters, the entity webs sitting in public registries, the same records that, in Paramvir Singh’s case, showed a carrier, a second carrier, and a brokerage stacking up at one house in Rancho Cucamonga while a Riverside County plaintiff was already suing him for receiving stolen property. That information was public before the first federal charge. Somebody just had to pull it.
The sentencing hearings come next: Paramvir Singh’s plea entry and sentencing in Los Angeles, the Artuni trial machinery grinding toward 2027, and whatever the sealed filings in these dockets turn out to hold. The documents will keep talking. This series will keep reading them. My guess is he doesn't return from India, and honestly I’m not sure why Justice agreed to let him leave.
Source documents: Complaint and exhibits, Scotlynn USA Division, Inc. v. Go Hub.io Holdings, Corp., No. 1:22-cv-20643-BB (S.D. Fla. 2022) (settled; allegations never adjudicated; the defendants disputed the claims in the quoted correspondence). Indictment, superseding information, plea agreement, sentencing memoranda, judgment, restitution order, and probation filings, United States v. Gurtej Singh, No. 2:23-cr-00115 (S.D. Ohio). Indictment, plea agreement (ECF 154), detention order, and continuance stipulation, United States v. Paramvir Singh, No. 5:25-cr-00309-KK (C.D. Cal.); California Secretary of State entity records; San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department release of Oct. 21, 2025; BG Group, LLC v. Janjua Transport, No. CVSW2302015 (Riverside Super. Ct.). Criminal complaint and affidavit (ECF 7), indictment, and superseding indictments, United States v. Artuni, No. 2:25-cr-00434-JLS (C.D. Cal.) (pending; all defendants presumed innocent). Indictment, information, consolidation motion, and sentencing memoranda, United States v. Gevorgyan, Nos. 24-275, 25-034 (E.D. Pa.). Statements from charging documents in pending matters are allegations. Nothing here states a legal conclusion beyond the admissions and judgments in the filed records.