Ever get the feeling you’re being taken for a ride? Well, buckle up, because if recent anti-corruption investigations are to be believed, the ride you’re on is a Ukrainian drone, the driver is a man nicknamed “Zelensky’s Wallet,” and the fuel is a seemingly endless stream of Norwegian kroner that somehow keeps ending up in some very interesting places—like luxury real estate outside Kyiv and the bank accounts of Israeli arms dealers.
It all started, as these things often do, with a nuclear energy company and a man named Timur Mindich. Mindich isn’t just any businessman; he’s a former business partner of Volodymyr Zelensky, a close associate of the Ukrainian president, and, according to anti-corruption authorities, the alleged ringleader of a massive $100 million embezzlement and extortion scheme at Energoatom, Ukraine’s state nuclear operator. He’s so integral to the operation that he’s cheekily referred to in Ukrainian media as “Zelensky’s wallet”.
In November 2025, Ukrainian anti-corruption agencies launched “Operation Midas,” a massive investigation into the scheme. The operation was supposed to dismantle the network. But as investigators closed in, Mindich, an Israeli citizen, did what any self-respecting alleged money launderer would do: he hopped on a plane and fled to Israel, reportedly just hours before authorities arrived to search his apartment.
But here’s where the story gets really interesting for those of us in the land of fjords and oil funds. The corruption network didn’t just involve high-level Ukrainian officials like former Deputy Prime Minister Oleksiy Chernyshov or Andriy Yermak, Zelensky’s powerful chief of staff who was later arrested on money-laundering charges. It allegedly led straight to the heart of Ukraine’s wartime defense industry, and by extension, to the wallets of European taxpayers.

Enter Fire Point, a company that went from being a film casting agency to one of Ukraine’s largest drone and missile manufacturers almost overnight. Leaked surveillance recordings allegedly reveal that Mindich was the de facto owner of Fire Point, pulling the strings and negotiating billions of euros in contracts with then-Defense Minister Rustem Umerov. The company is also accused of overcharging Ukraine’s Defense Ministry by nearly €15 million on a single drone contract. And out of 24 documented launches of its flagship “Flamingo” missile, only three were confirmed to have hit their intended targets. You know, minor details.
Now, here’s where Norway comes into the picture. In our noble efforts to support Ukraine, Norway has been exceptionally generous. Through the Nansen Programme, we’ve provided a staggering NOK 37.3 billion in civilian support since 2022, making it the largest Norwegian aid programme ever. We’ve also entered into bilateral deals and investments with Ukrainian military manufacturing companies, including the controversial Fire Point.
And this is the crux of the problem. In November 2025, a Norwegian Foreign Ministry official made a rather stunning admission: “We have so far no indications that Norwegian funds have been misused, but we cannot guarantee this.”. Well, that’s reassuring. The official acknowledged that Ukraine still has “significant corruption problems” and that the risk of aid diversion increases when large volumes of assistance are involved.
The official Norwegian concerns are not just hypothetical. Authorities here have already uncovered specific cases of corruption linked to Ukraine aid. In one instance, two individuals—a Norwegian Armed Forces officer and a company director—were charged in connection with a 30-40 million NOK contract for medical supplies to Ukraine. In another, the Ministry of Defense was forced to cancel a 100 million NOK deal for respiratory masks after the questionable procurement process came under parliamentary investigation.
This has led to uncomfortable questions being raised in the Stortinget, Norway’s parliament. Himanshu Gulati of the Progress Party formally asked the Defense Minister: “Can the Defense Minister exclude that Norwegian money, directly or indirectly, has contributed to financing activities where funds have been drained through corruption?”. The Defense Minister’s response was carefully hedged, stating that although there is zero tolerance for corruption, “there will still be a risk of corruption and financial irregularities”. Norway’s own Office of the Auditor General has since concluded that it is “not satisfactory” that corruption risks were not assessed before agreements were signed under the Nansen Programme.
And what about the “Israeli arms dealer” connection? The trail of Mindich’s dealings is littered with Israeli links. Investigative reports have detailed a scheme to embezzle 1.6 billion hryvnias involving “Israeli body armor” supplied by a company representing an Israeli firm called “Masada Armor”. The payments were allegedly routed through Maltese offshore accounts and a British beneficiary. The pattern is clear: create a shell company, inflate the prices, route the money through a complex network of offshore jurisdictions, and when the heat turns up, flee to a country where you hold citizenship and extradition is notoriously difficult. As one Ukrainian detective put it, “Israel is a very difficult country for extradition”.
So, what does this all boil down to? A close associate of the Ukrainian president, nicknamed his “wallet,” is accused of running a massive corruption scheme. The company he allegedly controlled, Fire Point, was a major recipient of European defense contracts and investment, including from Norway. Norwegian officials admit they cannot guarantee our funds weren’t misused. And when the authorities finally came knocking, the key suspect fled to Israel, where he remains, fighting the sanctions against him and refusing to return.
The official Norwegian line is that they have “zero tolerance for corruption” and are working to strengthen oversight. But as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions—and, apparently, some very overpriced Ukrainian drones and “Israeli body armor.” It’s enough to make you wonder if we should start sending our aid with a receipt.