I’ve been reporting on Cyberlux Corporation for a while now — reading the filings, following the court records, tracing the promises from boardrooms to press releases. Cyberlux, a defense contractor trading on the OTC markets, has spent years making bold claims about drone tech and military deals — claims now unraveling in court. But recently, the story shifted. It moved from the courthouse to my phone. From the OTCreporter to my family.
On a quiet afternoon in mid-May, my father received a WhatsApp message from someone closely tied to Cyberlux. The message wasn’t just strange. It was a riddle masked as a warning. It read like something from a Cold War thriller, and it arrived out of nowhere: “I waited in silence… now you are caught.” Then came another message, more direct, a few weeks later. This time, he was accused of running a smear campaign. Of being part of a foreign plot. In that message, the sender referenced having read a report on my father — a private report. The implication was clear: someone had him investigated. And if that report was paid for or commissioned by Cyberlux itself, not just the individual, it could expose the company to legal scrutiny alongside its employee.
Within hours of that second message, he was doxxed.
The timing didn’t feel random. It felt coordinated. And it didn’t end there.
Multiple anonymous accounts began flooding my social feeds. Fake personas wrapped in performative patriotism. They pushed conspiracies about who I am, who I work for, why I care. They named names — mine, my father’s — and wove them into tales of espionage and corporate sabotage. A vendetta, they claimed. That he was a foreign agent. A paid basher. A saboteur sent to “kill CYBL.” As if a taxpayer reporting suspected misuse of contract money to the authorities must involve personal motives rather than professional ethics.
The catalyst — the moment where it all tipped — came with a tweet from a user claiming to have my father’s full contact information. He threatened to show up in person. Not just to dox — but to expose, humiliate, and incite. He framed it as patriotism. What it actually was, was targeted intimidation. That individual appears to be a paid pumper. Who retained him is unclear, but the timing of his threats aligned disturbingly well with the messages sent by a Cyberlux employee.
And mine isn’t the only case. I’ve since heard from others — researchers, traders, even former employees — who say they too have received threats for speaking publicly or asking uncomfortable questions about the company. It paints a picture of a campaign not just to defend a corporate narrative, but to punish dissent.
All this while Cyberlux slipped deeper into legal crisis. A receivership order landed in late May, authorizing a court-appointed outsider to seize control of the company’s assets. Not because of some Twitter campaign — but because creditors had had enough. Because the courts agreed.
Yet instead of facing that reality, what emerged from Cyberlux’s orbit was a coordinated push to distract. To discredit. To intimidate. Not with evidence. With theater.
But this isn’t just intimidation — it may also cross legal lines. Targeting someone for reporting on a publicly traded company, coordinating efforts to dox them and weaponize false narratives, can constitute federal crimes. These include:
- 18 U.S. Code § 1513 – Retaliating against a witness, victim, or informant
- 18 U.S. Code § 1512 – Tampering with a witness, victim, or an informant
- 18 U.S. Code § 875 – Interstate communications containing threats
- 18 U.S. Code § 2261A – Stalking across state lines, including electronic harassment
- 47 U.S. Code § 223 – Obscene or harassing telephone calls in the District of Columbia or in interstate or foreign communications
- Making knowingly false public accusations of espionage or criminal conduct can also rise to the level of defamation and malicious interference, particularly when tied to an effort to suppress reporting on a matter of public interest
These aren’t just poor decisions. They’re prosecutable ones.
I’m not naming names here. Not because I’m afraid — but because I’ve seen how quickly the narrative can be twisted. How fast fiction becomes fuel for retaliation. I’m not here to play that game. I’m here to keep telling the story.
To some, journalism is a public service. To others, it’s a threat. But threats don’t change facts. They don’t erase filings. They don’t undo rulings.
What they do is reveal something else entirely: desperation.
This isn’t a victory lap. It’s a line in the sand — for journalists, for whistleblowers, for anyone who still believes public truth is worth defending.
If you’re looking for the answer, you’re not alone. So am I. And I won’t stop.