At first glance, Frank Bourassa looks like an average working-class guy—someone you’d expect to find fixing cars, not outsmarting global authorities. That’s because not long ago, he really was a mechanic, running a modest brake pad factory in Quebec. But behind that ordinary image was one of the boldest criminals of our time. Bourassa secretly pulled off one of the most ambitious counterfeiting schemes in history, printing hundreds of millions of dollars in fake U.S. currency that was so convincing, even experts couldn’t tell it was fake.
Before the big heist, Bourassa lived a double life. In his early days in Trois-Rivières, Quebec, he was no stranger to trouble. From a young age, he was involved in theft, car smuggling, and even ran a shoplifting ring while still in junior high. This wasn’t just stealing candy—it was organized, profitable theft. He dropped out of school at 15, left home, and hustled his way through life, eventually starting a small business making shoes and brake pads. However, stress got the better of him, and he sold the company.
Instead of returning to a legal path, Bourassa turned to drug smuggling. After getting caught, he served a short jail sentence. But his next idea would take his criminal career to a whole new level—he would manufacture money. Not just a few fake bills, but a staggering $200 million in near-perfect counterfeit $20 bills. And as some investigators later found out, it may have actually been $250 million.
Crafting Counterfeit Currency Like a Pro
Counterfeiting U.S. currency isn’t something a regular printer and some Photoshop skills can handle. American bills are among the hardest to fake, thanks to their special paper—75% cotton and 25% linen—plus security threads, watermarks, microprinting, and more.
But Bourassa wasn’t your average counterfeiter. He poured more than $300,000 into a state-of-the-art print shop hidden in a rented garage on a farm. The setup included professional machines like a $125,000 Heidelberg offset press, equipment for embossing, custom ink printers for serial numbers, and more. He even hired an ex-con with printing experience to help operate the machines.
Still, all the equipment in the world wouldn’t matter without the right paper. Bourassa spent months emailing paper manufacturers across Europe and Asia under fake names, pretending to be a bond printer in need of specialty paper with mild security features. Most suppliers declined. But eventually, Swiss company Artoz agreed to make the paper with the cotton-linen blend, embedded fibers, and chemicals to fool detection pens. He even paid $15,000 through a Swiss account to a German firm to create a watermark drum featuring Andrew Jackson’s face. As Bourassa said later, “To you, he’s Andrew Jackson. To some guy in Germany… it’s just some guy’s face.”
Selling the Fakes
With boxes of authentic-looking bills ready, Bourassa had to find buyers. He avoided passing the bills himself, opting to sell them abroad instead. His first client placed a test order of $10,000. After that, larger orders followed—some buyers were purchasing a million dollars a week, paying 30 cents for each dollar in fake money.
Bourassa quickly earned back his investment, and profits soared. But he knew it wouldn’t last forever. Fake bills began surfacing in U.S. cities like Las Vegas and Miami, drawing attention from law enforcement.
The Arrest
Things fell apart in 2012. A man who unknowingly was being monitored by police tried selling Bourassa’s fake money to an undercover officer. The officer bought $100,000 in counterfeits for $30,000 in real money. A second transaction was arranged for the next day.
Bourassa started getting paranoid. He kept watch on the streets with binoculars. But his efforts to stay under the radar didn’t work for long. On May 23, 2012, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and U.S. Secret Service agents raided his girlfriend’s home and arrested him. They only found $949,000 in fake bills, but they didn’t realize the rest—nearly $200 million—was still hidden in a separate garage.
Making a Deal
Facing U.S. extradition and a likely multi-decade sentence, Bourassa had one bargaining chip: the hidden counterfeit cash. But first, his lawyer got him released on a technicality—challenging the legality of the search. He posted $10,000 bail and walked free while planning his next move.
In 2013, as his trial approached, he offered a wild deal to Canadian prosecutors. He promised to hand over the full $200 million in counterfeit money, but only if they dropped extradition, returned his girlfriend’s home, and let him go free with time served.
Astonishingly, they agreed.
In early 2014, he led police to a truck parked in the countryside. Inside were pallets of counterfeit twenty-dollar bills, neatly packed and sealed. Bourassa was sentenced to just six weeks in jail and fined $1,350. U.S. agents were furious, calling the outcome a major embarrassment.
The Missing Millions
But the story doesn’t end there. After combing through his computers and financial records, investigators noticed a huge problem: the numbers didn’t add up. Bourassa hadn’t printed $200 million—he’d printed $250 million. That means $49 million remains unaccounted for to this day. When asked about it, Bourassa only smirks: “Maybe I sold it all. Maybe I didn’t.”
Where Is He Now?
These days, Frank Bourassa says he’s left his criminal life behind. He now runs a fraud prevention consultancy, advising companies and even governments on how to stop people like… well, himself.
Whether he truly walked away from counterfeiting for good is anyone’s guess. But one thing is certain: Frank Bourassa pulled off one of the biggest currency counterfeits in modern history—and somehow managed to walk away a free man… possibly with $49 million still tucked away for retirement.
