Friends are confident he would never jeopardize his career in airport management by knowingly flaunting a regulation pertaining to his weekend hobby.
It would have been a workday for Bryan Malinowski, executive director of the Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport. But at 6 a.m., an hour before sunrise on March 19, he was still in bed drifting in peaceful sleep.
Outside, a convoy of 10 law enforcement vehicles rolled into his upscale neighborhood in West Little Rock, Arkansas, parking near his 3,000 square foot home, a neighbor’s doorbell camera shows.
Wearing full tactical gear and holding automatic rifles in the ready position, agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF), walked up the darkened sidewalk to the front door of the Malinowski home.
The first ATF agent reached toward the Malinowski’s doorbell camera and rubbed a piece of opaque tape on the camera lens, obscuring the view.
“At this stage, there is no publicly available evidence showing whether agents knocked on the door or announced their presence, adequately identifying themselves,” Attorney Bud Cummins, who represents the family, said in an email statement released on Monday.
Mr. Malinowski was jolted out of sleep by the sound of the door crashing in. He grabbed a gun.
“His wife believed the noise must have been intruders and she fully believes her husband thought the same. He loaded a magazine into a pistol and emerged from the master bedroom into a hallway leading indirectly to the front entryway,” Mr. Cummins described of the incident.
“He reached a corner in the hall and looked around it to see several unidentifiable figures already several steps inside his home. We do not know who shot first but it appears that Bryan shot approximately three times at a decidedly low angle, probably at the feet of the intruders who were roughly 30 feet away.”
The ATF has previously said Mr. Malinowski shot first.
Agents immediately returned fire and struck him at least once in the head, causing massive injury to his skull and brain, Mr. Cummins said.
By Beth Brelje
