Cyber Police Bust Suksan’s Illegal Firearm Operation in Bangkok

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In the kaleidoscopic cityscape of Bangkok, where high-rise buildings pierce the sky and bustling streets hum with the city’s vibrant pulse, a rather unusual event unfolded amidst the concrete jungle. On March 31st, a seemingly ordinary condominium in Lat Phrao 121, Khlong Chan, Bang Kapi, became the focus of a high-profile cyber-policing operation that would uncover the clandestine activities of a man deep within the dark web of illegal firearm trading.

The mastermind behind these surreptitious operations was a 53-year-old man named Suksan. It was a regular day until it was anything but. The Cyber Crime Investigation Bureau was on the case, led by the astute Police Lieutenant General Trirong Phiwpan. When orders trickled down the hierarchy, Police Major General Suphakorn Phiwon took charge of executing a well-coordinated raid, bolstered by his deputies, Police Colonel Bancha Srisook and Police Colonel Teera Chueasuwan.

With precision that only law enforcement could muster, the raid was set in motion. A search warrant was secured, and the team approached the condominium, bracing themselves for what was to come. Their mission? To cease the shadowy dealings originating from four Facebook pages filled with over ten thousand unsuspecting members. Billowing digital clouds carried names such as “เสก สามแปด” and “เสก สี่สาม,” where exchanges of illegal hunting weapons were as frequent as Bangkok’s rain showers.

Inside the condominium, Suksan had made himself a king of a dark realm, crafting unregistered firearms from various components as effortlessly as one would bake a cake. He was caught red-handed, but not before a desperate attempt to erase his tracks. Locking the door behind him, Suksan tried to dispose of rifle barrels and assembled firearm parts into the thick grass below his window, hoping they’d disappear into oblivion. Unfortunately, the vigilant eyes of law enforcement weren’t so easily distracted.

Negotiations ensued outside Suksan’s front door. Eventually, he yielded to the unrelenting stress of the situation, opening the door to face his fate. The scene inside the domicile was nothing short of a treasure trove for cyber police. Three unregistered firearms sat like dormant vipers: a short-barrelled twin-barrelled .38 calibre pistol, a .22 calibre pistol, and a .38 calibre pen gun. In one corner, 270 rounds of various calibres lay like forbidden jewels, glimmering with potential implications.

There weren’t just guns; an arsenal of firearm components had amassed—five rifled .22 calibre barrels, bits and pieces of bolt-action rifles, and a host of tools that could rival a mechanic’s workshop, with 42 miscellaneous items related to firearm assembly, from firing pin molds to tensioning springs. The plot thickened with a collection of 32 tools, including power drills and wrenches, that would put any handyperson to shame.

As interrogations proceeded, Suksan’s façade crumbled. Yes, he admitted, he’d engaged in illicit gunsmithing within the confines of his room. It seemed the approaching presence of law enforcement had him skirting dangerously close to panic, shoving evidence out the window in a moment of desperation—unbeknownst to him, under the all-seeing eyes of vigilant officers below.

With the legal chips stacked against him, Suksan found himself facing charges of manufacturing and possessing firearms and ammunition without a license. His freedom now lay in the competent hands of Lad Phrao Police Station, as the wheels of justice began to turn—methodically, inexorably—towards swift consequences.

In a world increasingly reliant on digital footprints for every indulgence, the crackdown served as a reminder. For criminals like Suksan, fleeting moments of freedom were shadowed by the looming certainty of discovery and the long arm of cyber law.

Picture courtesy of KhaoSod