Former Formula One driver Adrian Sutil’s Koenigsegg One:1 — one of seven ever built, worth up to $22 million, and utterly impossible to disguise — has been missing since January. Interpol is now involved. The men who allegedly took it claimed ties to the Wagner Group. This is not a normal car theft story.
Let us begin with the logistics of the problem, because they are genuinely extraordinary. If you steal a Porsche 911, you have a car that exists in the world in many thousands of identical or near-identical examples. You change the plates. You repaint it. You sell it quietly and move on. If you steal a Koenigsegg One:1, you have acquired one of seven objects on earth that look exactly like that, in a specification that is instantly identifiable to every serious car collector alive, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it next. There are no plates to change. There is no paint colour that covers clear carbon fibre. There is no respraying a car whose entire identity is the material it is made from.
Whoever allegedly took former Formula One driver Adrian Sutil’s Koenigsegg One:1 from his Monaco garage in January 2026 either did not think this through, or did not care. The car — chassis number 7107, clear carbon with China Pink accents, one of seven ever built and worth somewhere between ten and twenty-two million dollars depending on who you ask — is now the subject of an international search involving Interpol, the Baden-Württemberg State Criminal Police Office, and authorities in both Monaco and Germany. It has not been found. And despite being one of the most recognisable objects in the known automotive universe, nobody appears to know precisely where it is.
WHAT ALLEGEDLY HAPPENED
The story, as reported by Auto Motor und Sport and subsequently confirmed across multiple international outlets, begins not with a theft in any conventional sense but with a phone call. In December 2025, Sutil’s family allegedly received a call from an unidentified man who introduced himself as Vladimir and claimed to represent the Wagner Group, the Russian private military organisation. The message, according to Sutil’s lawyer Dirk Schmitz, was delivered without ambiguity. Vladimir explained, as Schmitz put it, that no one could stop his people if they came to collect the vehicles. Monaco’s jurisdiction was not a relevant consideration. Resistance was not an option being offered.
A short time later, several men arrived at the Monaco garage. Schmitz described what followed in terms that bear repeating in full, because they are about as direct as a legal statement gets: “The pressure was immense. The family was intimidated, and threats included physical violence. The message was clear — cars out, or else.” The cars were handed over. The men left. The One:1 went with them.
The timing of all this matters enormously to understanding the full picture. In November 2025, Sutil had been arrested in Germany and placed in pre-trial custody on suspicion of fraud and embezzlement connected to his luxury vehicle collection. German authorities had already seized approximately twenty vehicles stored across Germany, Switzerland and Monaco. Sutil denied all allegations and said he was cooperating fully with investigators. AutoEvolution reports that the investigation subsequently took a significant turn when it emerged that Sutil had not been the perpetrator but the victim — a shift in the narrative that makes the Monaco incident considerably more than a sideshow to the fraud case.
THE CAR ITSELF
To understand why a missing car is generating international headlines, you need to understand what the Koenigsegg One:1 is. Christian von Koenigsegg introduced it in 2014 with a concept built on a single, almost absurdly elegant principle: a production car whose power output in metric horsepower precisely matched its weight in kilograms. One megawatt of power. One thousand three hundred and sixty metric horses. A car weighing one thousand three hundred and sixty kilograms. A power-to-weight ratio of exactly one to one, delivered through a 5.5-litre twin-turbocharged V8 producing 1,371 Newton metres of torque, via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission to the rear wheels.
Koenigsegg called it the world’s first megacar, which is either marketing or fact depending on how you define your terms, and in this case is simply both. Only six examples were sold to customers, with a seventh retained for development. Sutil’s car, chassis 7107, was specified in clear carbon fibre with China Pink accents — a combination that makes it identifiable at a glance to anyone even tangentially connected to the hypercar world, and entirely memorable to anyone who has ever seen a photograph of it. It is, in Sutil’s own words as reported across multiple outlets, the crown jewel of his collection. Its value is estimated at between ten and twenty-two million dollars, the wide range reflecting how difficult it is to appraise an object for which there is effectively no comparable open-market transaction to reference.
THE WIDER COLLECTION
The One:1 was not the only vehicle removed from Sutil’s Monaco garage. A formal complaint filed with the Stuttgart public prosecutor’s office in December 2025 details nine luxury vehicles with a combined estimated value of around €17 million that have gone missing. The list, as reported by AutoEvolution and GPFans among others, includes a Koenigsegg Regera — itself a one-of-eighty hybrid hypercar worth several million pounds — alongside a Rolls-Royce Phantom, a Ferrari California, a Mercedes-Benz 600 Saloon previously owned by Elvis Presley, and multiple Lamborghinis and Porsches. One vehicle from the collection has since been recovered by authorities. The Koenigsegg remains missing.
The Elvis Presley Mercedes deserves a moment’s pause. It is not a car. It is an artefact. The fact that it was included in the same haul as the world’s most exclusive hypercar tells you something about the scale of what was allegedly taken, and something about the kind of people who allegedly took it. This was not opportunistic. This was a collection of very specific, very high-value objects removed with apparent knowledge of exactly what each of them was worth.
THE PROBLEM WITH HIDING IT
Whoever has the One:1 now faces a problem that compounds with every day it remains missing. Auto Motor und Sport noted directly that a car like the Koenigsegg One:1 is practically unsellable on the open market, and this is not hyperbole. The hypercar collector community is global, well-connected, and deeply familiar with every example of a car as rare as this one. Any attempt to present chassis 7107 to a serious buyer would result in immediate identification and an immediate call to the relevant authorities. No credible buyer would touch it. The pink carbon body cannot be disguised. The VIN cannot be meaningfully altered without destroying the car’s provenance, which is a substantial portion of its value.
That leaves a narrow set of options, none of them appealing. Long-term storage in a jurisdiction where the authorities either cannot or will not act on Interpol notices. A private sale to a buyer who intends to keep it permanently hidden. Or a wait, potentially measured in decades, for the investigation to cool and the world to move on. The last option is perhaps the most plausible, and also the most infuriating: a 1,360-horsepower engineering landmark, built to go 273mph, sitting in a container somewhere because someone thought an anonymous phone call and a few threats entitled them to it.
REVMAG VERDICT
Adrian Sutil raced in Formula One for seven seasons with Spyker, Force India and Sauber, scored points, made friends with Lewis Hamilton, and collected a remarkable array of machinery on the way. He is now, through a sequence of events that would be implausible in a thriller novel, at the centre of a case involving alleged Wagner Group extortion, an Interpol search, a fraud investigation that appears to have reached the wrong conclusion about who the victim was, and a missing twenty-million-dollar hypercar that is simultaneously one of the most recognisable and most impossible-to-move objects on earth. Somewhere out there is a clear-carbon Koenigsegg with pink stripes and one thousand three hundred and sixty horsepower, sitting completely still. We hope, for its sake and for Sutil’s, that it is not sitting still for much longer.