Lynn Stringer
24.2K posts

Lynn Stringer
@lynnstringer
Real Estate Broker/Sales in Las Vegas & Salesman in Arizona with Studio 73 Scottsdale. Since 1986…. #MAGA # President Trump #No DM
Las Vegas NV Joined Mayıs 2009
7.9K Following7.1K Followers

This office was running 49 million fake accounts until police raided it
Inside they found 1,200 SIM box devices and 40,000 active SIM cards connected to 80+ countries
The setup was used to create 49 million fake accounts for phishing, bank fraud, extortion, and human smuggling networks across Europe
A single SIM box can register thousands of fake WhatsApp, Telegram, and banking accounts per day
Police seized four luxury cars, froze $500K in bank accounts and $310K in crypto
7 people were running the entire operation
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@MoooPapa Isn't it almost as much fun as a pig roast with an apple in his mouth 🤣😂😆😎❤️🇺🇸
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@AmYisraelChai_X @genesimmons Love you & your family & all the great things you do for so many. Thank Gou ❤️❤️😎😎🇺🇸🇺🇸
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I wanna post a dumb comment to @genesimmons so he’ll respond to me, but just can’t; I love him so much 😔🤘
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@NimaYamini @Rinainteriors And we love you for it. ❤️❤️👏👏🇺🇸🇺🇸🇮🇱🇮🇱🇮🇱
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A blue check mark on X can be obtained for $8 per month. I don't care what I get from X as much as I care about supporting a great company that benefits all who participate. Is $8 too much for that? I'm just curious why everyone who interacts does not pay $8? (*Preparing myself for the backlash.*)
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@netanyahu @realDonaldTrump Israel leaves no one behind, and neither does America! Well done. 🇮🇱🇺🇸💪
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I spoke earlier with President @realDonaldTrump and personally congratulated him on his bold decision and a perfectly executed American mission to rescue the downed pilot from enemy territory.
The President expressed his appreciation for Israel's help.
I am deeply proud that our cooperation on an off the battlefield is unprecedented, and that Israel could contribute to saving a brave American warrior.
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As a Marine who deployed with the 31st MEU as an 0331 machine gunner. I want to let you know those boys give zero fucks about going in there and obeying orders from the commander in chief. They look forward to it. Have trained for it since day 1. Been the first kids on their block to want the confirmed kill. Shit gets real when they open up the magazine on the ship and start passing out live ammo. But your dick gets hard, know what I'm saying? You think I give a fuck about the politics when I'm holding that 240? LOL I AM A WAR FIGHTING MACHINE, LET ME IN COACH!!!! That is the attitude to be the best. If you don't have it they will just cycle you out like the bitch that you are. Thank you for your attention to this matter.
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The Desperate Race to Save the Colonel.
April 3, 2026. Friday night over southwestern Iran’s Zagros Mountains.
Iranian surface-to-air missiles slammed into the F-15E Strike Eagle. “Eject! Eject!” Both crew members yanked their handles. The jet vanished in a fireball.
The pilot’s parachute opened. U.S. forces fixed his position fast. Night Stalker helicopters swooped in under covering fire and pulled him out within hours—shaken but safe.
The weapons systems officer, a battle-hardened Air Force colonel, wasn’t so lucky.
He slammed into a rocky slope alone. Injured. Armed with nothing but a pistol and a palm-sized encrypted radio with an emergency beacon. No food. No water beyond what was in his survival kit.
The Hunt Begins
Iranian Revolutionary Guard convoys raced toward the crash site. State TV broadcast bounties: find the American “pilot,” turn him in alive. Farmers and shepherds became hunters.
For thirty-six grueling hours, the colonel became prey in a life-or-death game. Dragging his wounded leg, he climbed a jagged 7,000-foot ridgeline, heart pounding, every rock slide threatening to give him away. He wedged into a narrow mountain crevice as an enemy patrol passed within ten feet—boots crunching gravel, flashlight beams slicing the dark, voices arguing in Farsi.
He held his breath, pistol ready, radio clutched tight. One sound and it was capture, cameras, a show trial—or worse.
The Noose Tightens
His beacon pulsed faintly. U.S. satellites and the CIA locked onto the signal. But Iranian jammers hunted it too. Overhead imagery showed three IRGC columns closing fast—less than two miles out.
In Washington, President Trump gave the order: Get him out. Whatever it takes.
Hundreds of elite operators—Navy SEAL Team 6 in the lead, Delta Force, and Night Stalkers—launched into the most complex combat rescue in recent U.S. history. Dozens of fighter jets and attack aircraft roared overhead. Cyber teams jammed enemy radars. A-10 Warthogs and strike jets hammered approaching Iranian convoys, bombs and cannon fire shaking the mountains, buying precious minutes.
"We Got You, Sir"
Saturday night. The colonel heard rotors and engines closing in. Then—gunfire. Real, close-quarters gunfire. The rescue force had made contact.
“Friendly! Friendly!” Rough hands yanked him from the rocks. “We got you, sir—move!” Commandos half-dragged, half-carried the exhausted colonel toward the landing zone while bullets cracked overhead. One operator took a grazing round; he never slowed. Enemy tracers stitched the night sky.
Disaster and Defiance
Two MC-130 Commando II transports slammed down at a makeshift dirt strip in the narrow valley. Ramps dropped. The team sprinted aboard with their prize—then, disaster.
Both massive birds bogged down in loose rock and mud. Engines screamed. Wheels spun uselessly. Iranian reinforcements were minutes away, headlights cresting the ridge.
“Destroy the birds,” the commander ordered, voice ice-cold.
Explosives flashed. Fireballs roared as the planes were blown apart in orange hell to keep sensitive technology from Iranian hands. The team sprinted for the emergency helicopters now racing in low and hot. Enemy rounds sparked off fuselages. Black Hawks took ground fire but stayed airborne.
Home Bound
They piled in. The last man was still climbing when the birds lifted off, skimming ridgelines as bullets chased them into the night.
All souls accounted for. No American casualties. The colonel—seriously wounded but alive—was already en route to medical care in Kuwait.
One of the most high-stakes, complex special-operations rescues in U.S. history had succeeded by seconds. Deep in enemy territory, America had once again sent the message louder than any bomb:
We don’t leave our own behind. Ever.

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