A 26-year-old Maryland man is facing attempted murder charges after allegedly showing up at the Arlington, Virginia home of Office of Management and Budget Director Russell Vought wearing a surgical mask, gloves, and a backpack — and carrying, according to his own digital trail, detailed plans for violence and body disposal.

Colin Demarco was arrested on January 22 by Arlington County Police on several criminal charges, including attempted murder. He is scheduled to appear in court on February 23. The U.S. Marshals Service led the investigation and now provides a security detail for Vought.

The criminal complaint paints a chilling picture — not of a man who snapped, but of one who researched, planned, messaged friends about killing, and then drove from Rockville, Maryland, to a senior government official's front door.

What the Evidence Shows

Ring doorbell footage from August 10 captured Demarco at Vought's home wearing sunglasses, a surgical mask, and gloves, CBS News reported. He looked through Vought's mailbox. A neighbor observed what appeared to be a gun tucked under Demarco's shirt — an observation Demarco later denied. He approached the neighbor and asked if anyone was home.

The U.S. Marshals Service identified Demarco from the Ring footage and interviewed him at his Rockville residence. On August 14, they conducted a partial search of his room. No weapons were found, but agents observed him crumple a piece of paper containing the word "tyranny."

What they found later was worse. A search warrant for Demarco's iCloud account uncovered a note titled "Dad's Gun Stash," which referenced:

"a .357 Magnum Colt revolver (FULLY PRE-LOADED!)."

The same account contained a document titled "Body Disposal Guide," which included language such as:

"always wear rubber gloves" and "make an airtight alibi."

This was not a political disagreement that escalated. This was preparation.

The Discord Messages

Court documents revealed a series of Discord messages attributed to Demarco that laid out his intentions in plain language. In one exchange, he wrote:

"The more Trump does shit like this, the more I wanna grab a gun and try to shoot him… I am at my wits' end and this might be the final straw. I want to get a gun, head to DC and kill him."

In another, he told someone he had located Vought's home address. And then, in an apparent allusion to Luigi Mangione — the man charged with killing former United Health CEO Brian Thompson — Demarco wrote:

"Are you willing to put your livelihood on the line and seek out the guy's home to Luigi him?"

That last message deserves a pause. The celebration of Mangione in certain online circles has moved from memes to operational language. "Luigi him" is now a verb in the vocabulary of political violence. When media figures and social media commentators treated Mangione as a folk hero, this is what they fed.

A System That Saw the Warning Signs — and Failed

Here is where the timeline turns from alarming to inexplicable. After the August incidents, after the Marshals had already identified Demarco, interviewed him, and searched part of his room, he was still free.

In November 2024, Maryland authorities took Demarco into custody through a mental illness emergency petition after he asked a police officer to run him over or shoot him. According to the complaint, during that episode:

"Demarco stated he wanted to die due to Trump being elected as president."

He also told authorities something far more specific:

"Demarco advised that he had created a manifesto and that once it was completed he would kill people."

He described the November 2024 election as "the lowest point in his life" and spoke of "impending war and a fascist takeover." He expressed admiration for Luigi Mangione. He told investigators he had gone to Vought's home to confront him about Project 2025.

And yet, the arrest did not come until January 22 — months after the emergency custody, months after the doorbell footage, months after a man with a body disposal guide and a gun stash list told law enforcement he was building a manifesto and intended to kill. It remains unclear why Demarco faces state charges in Arlington County rather than federal charges.

A Pattern of Threats Against Officials

Demarco's case does not exist in isolation. Vought has been the subject of numerous violent threats since last year and now requires a U.S. Marshals security detail. Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy receives credible threats and has government protection. In mid-January, the Eastern District of Virginia obtained an indictment against another man for leaving a threatening message for Kennedy Center president Richard Grenell.

These are not random incidents. They share a common thread: officials serving in or aligned with the current administration are being targeted by individuals radicalized into believing that political violence is justified — even noble.

The left spent years warning about "stochastic terrorism" and the dangers of heated political rhetoric. The concept was wielded almost exclusively against the right. But when a man writes a manifesto, compiles a weapons inventory, drafts a body disposal guide, tells a police officer he plans to kill people, and invokes a celebrated assassin by name — the conversation about radicalization and rhetoric suddenly gets quieter.

The Mangione Effect

Demarco's admiration for Mangione is not incidental. It is central. The cultural moment that turned Mangione into an icon did real damage. It told unstable people that targeted killing could make you a hero. It told them the internet would celebrate their courage.

When Demarco asked a contact whether they were willing to "Luigi him," he wasn't speaking in abstraction. He was using the grammar of a movement — small, deranged, but real — that views political assassination as direct action. Every thinkpiece that romanticized Mangione, every social media post that called him brave, every comedian who winked at the killing contributed to a permission structure. Demarco walked through it.

Silence Where It Matters

An OMB spokesperson responded to the arrest plainly:

"We are grateful for the work of law enforcement in keeping Director Vought and his family safe."

That is the only official statement. Demarco has retained counsel, according to the Arlington public defender's office, but his attorney declined to provide further details.

What is missing is louder than what is present. Where is the broad, bipartisan condemnation? Where are the op-eds about the dangerous consequences of political dehumanization? When a man with a body disposal guide and a kill list shows up at a cabinet official's home, the story should dominate the national conversation. It won't.

What Comes Next

Demarco's court date is set for February 23. The charges are serious — attempted murder among them. The investigation, led by the U.S. Marshals Service, has already produced a digital paper trail that reads like a roadmap to violence: the Discord messages, the iCloud notes, the manifesto confession, the emergency custody episode.

Russell Vought is a government official doing the job the president appointed him to do. His family lives in that Arlington home. A man showed up at their door with gloves, a mask, and — if his own files are to be believed — a plan for what comes after the killing.

The system saw Colin Demarco in August. It saw him again in November, when he begged a cop to kill him and promised a manifesto. It did not stop him until January. That gap is not just a bureaucratic failure. It is a window through which the next attempt will climb.