The ₹83000-crore mirage: Inside India's largest military project investment scam
A high-stakes defence manufacturing project floated by VPVV Techno Construction lured hundreds of investors with promises of profit and national security, only to be revealed as a massive confidence fraud
Hundreds of investors across India were allegedly defrauded of nearly ₹700 crore by VPVV Techno Construction, which presented itself as a major Indo-American defense manufacturing project involving a top-secret tunnel, radioactive materials, and purported government backing, including a non-existent "Indo-U.S. Pacific Peace Treaty," using elaborate spectacles like helicopter landings, charismatic figures introduced as defense experts, and symbols of authority to create an ecosystem of legitimacy, with investigations now focusing on the whereabouts of the chairman, the mysterious "Dr. Saab" (Thanush Pandya), and the ultimate destination of the investors' funds.
Hundreds of investors across India were allegedly defrauded of nearly ₹700 crore by VPVV Techno Construction, which presented itself as a major Indo-American defense manufacturing project involving a top-secret tunnel, radioactive materials, and purported government backing, including a non-existent "Indo-U.S. Pacific Peace Treaty," using elaborate spectacles like helicopter landings, charismatic figures introduced as defense experts, and symbols of authority to create an ecosystem of legitimacy, with investigations now focusing on the whereabouts of the chairman, the mysterious "Dr. Saab" (Thanush Pandya), and the ultimate destination of the investors' funds.
Hundreds of investors across India were allegedly defrauded of nearly ₹700 crore by VPVV Techno Construction, which presented itself as a major Indo-American defense manufacturing project involving a top-secret tunnel, radioactive materials, and purported government backing, including a non-existent "Indo-U.S. Pacific Peace Treaty," using elaborate spectacles like helicopter landings, charismatic figures introduced as defense experts, and symbols of authority to create an ecosystem of legitimacy, with investigations now focusing on the whereabouts of the chairman, the mysterious "Dr. Saab" (Thanush Pandya), and the ultimate destination of the investors' funds.
The helicopter descended through the heat haze of southern Tamil Nadu as 300 investors looked skyward. Some of them had travelled overnight. Some had mortgaged property. Some had also persuaded relatives and friends to invest their life savings.
Now, standing on a dusty stretch of land near Sathankulam, they watched the chopper touch down beside a stage draped with the flags of India and the United States. What unfolded on December 14, 2023, seemed more like an investment seminar than the launch of a strategic military project.
Speakers harped on the future of Indo-American defence manufacturing. Grand plans were announced. Investors were told they were witnessing the birth of a weapon manufacturing facility confidentially associated with the US department of defense. Photographs were taken. Promises were made. Applause followed.
The investors were told in ‘total secrecy’ that a 40km tunnel would be built from the facility in Sathankulam to the Indian Navy’s INS Kattabomman. A defence expert of the promoter company was then introduced to the gathering—he was in naval fatigues. ‘Rajan Malik’, the investors were told, had just returned from a 15-day secret mission on a submarine with the Navy. Post a medical check-up, investors were shown a ‘radioactive material’ supposedly handed over by the Pentagon. Additionally, four people, who were introduced as scientists from the Indian Space Research Organisation, were honoured for investing money in the weapon manufacturing project.
There were sceptics, but their doubts vanished the moment the helicopter landed. “The helicopter convinced everybody,” one investor later recalled. “People believed no fraudster could pull off something like that.”
Years later, investigators would begin asking different questions. What if the helicopter was the point? What if the spectacle itself was part of the product being sold? As detailed in FIRs filed by the Kerala Police, as well as in investor complaints, court records and whistleblower testimony, hundreds of investors across India were persuaded to invest in what was presented as a historic defence manufacturing opportunity. The ‘scheme’, floated by a company called VPVV Techno Construction, was presented as an Rs83,000 crore project and collected nearly Rs700 crore. The allegations remain contested and are under investigation and judicial proceedings.
Yet, they tell a remarkable story in which secrecy became evidence, patriotism became a sales strategy and credibility itself became a commodity.
The alleged operation promised investors something far more valuable than profit. It promised proximity to power. According to presentations and promotional materials, investors were told that VPVV had secured access to an extraordinary international defence project. Weapons destined for the American military would be manufactured in India. Some investors were promised exceptional returns. Others were told that opportunities in the US—including visas and Green Cards—would follow. The proposition sounded improbable.
But improbability was part of its appeal. Investors were invited to imagine themselves not merely as shareholders but as participants in a secret geopolitical enterprise connecting New Delhi and Washington.
The story was supported by symbols people associate with authority. There were luxury offices in New Delhi. An entire floor of a luxury hotel in Vasant Vihar was booked to present wealthy investors with promises of extraordinary profits.
National flags of India and the US adorned meeting halls. Elaborately designed documents bore official-looking insignia. Individuals presented as defence experts, diplomats and strategic advisers addressed gatherings of investors. Helicopters were seen regularly at ceremonial events. Grand announcements spoke of research facilities, military partnerships, international treaties and government backing.
For hundreds of investors, the presentation was persuasive enough to justify investments ranging from a few lakhs to several crores of rupees. Questions were often discouraged, answers were often unavailable and the explanation was always the same: national security.
“The more questions we asked, the more they said the information was classified,” said one investor. “Eventually people stopped asking.”
Finally, the Right to Information Act came with the relevant answer. An investor seeking verification submitted a request regarding a document repeatedly cited by promoters: an ‘agreement’ called the “Indo-U.S. Pacific Peace Treaty”.
According to investors, that ‘treaty’ formed the foundation of the entire defence-manufacturing narrative. The response from the Indian embassy in Washington was brief: no such treaty existed. With that the central pillar of the investment story collapsed. Interviews with victims indicated that many invested only after being given copies of the purported treaty, supporting documents and presentations claiming that the project had sanction from both the governments.
For investigators, it raised a larger question: if the treaty did not exist, what else didn’t? The answer led them into a labyrinth of recruitment networks, ceremonial events, financial transactions and documents that investigators are now attempting to piece together. Existing investors were encouraged to recruit new ones and were offered commissions. Documents suggest that recruiters could earn increasing percentages based on the amount invested by individuals they brought into the network. Trust travelled through families, religious institutions and business and friendship circles.
Criminologists call it confidence fraud. The operators constructed an entire ecosystem of legitimacy through photographs, events and speeches. By the time the first police complaints surfaced, hundreds of investors had already entered the system.
FIRs name VPVV and its chairman, Venkita Venkat, among the accused. Investors recall a figure commonly referred to as ‘Dr Saab’. They describe him as a charismatic authority figure who appeared at investor gatherings, ceremonial events and internal meetings. He was introduced as an individual with high-level international connections and significant influence. Questions surrounding the individual’s name, background and whereabouts have become a major focus of ongoing investigations. Law-enforcement agencies are examining the extent of his role and the accuracy of representations allegedly made about his position and credentials. For many victims, the mystery surrounding the figure only added to his perceived authority. “He was presented as someone beyond ordinary verification,” one investor said.
That aura of mystique extended to the authorities. ‘Dr Saab’, whose real name apparently is Thanush Pandya, allegedly secured anticipatory bail from the Kerala High Court using his fictitious identity, without producing an Aadhaar card or any other proof of identity. Similarly, the Kerala Police allegedly executed the bail order without cross-checking his identity. ‘Dr Saab’ is now missing.
According to rough estimates, the number of affected investors may exceed 500, and they are from across the country. Several investors said they were persuaded not merely by promises of profit but by what appeared to be evidence of government involvement. On June 5, the accused held a news conference at the Delhi Press Club and claimed they had been exonerated by the Delhi Police after it investigated the allegations against them. However, a reply dated May 27 to an RTI application said that the complaint against the company was pending inquiry with the Delhi Police.
Investigators, who have been on the case for the last three months, are now attempting to answer the question that matters the most: Where did the money go?