Man Arrested for Owning a ‘Machine Gun’ – But It Was Just a Forced Reset Trigger

A late-September trip to a Northern Virginia gun range has spiraled into machine-gun charges for a Washington, D.C., resident—and the “machine gun” at the center of it all isn’t a rifle at all, but a 3D-printed forced reset trigger (FRT).

John Crump at AmmoLand first mapped the timeline, from the range encounter to a D.C. police raid, while Jared Yanis of Guns & Gadgets unpacked the legal minefield now surrounding FRTs. Taken together, their reports sketch a case that sits squarely at the intersection of technical nuance, aggressive enforcement, and unsettled law.

What Happened at the Range, According to AmmoLand

Crump reports that on September 22, 2025, Erez Avissar rented a rifle at Silver Eagle Group in Ashburn, Virginia, and began disassembling it on the lane. A range safety officer stepped in, was told Avissar was testing a 3D-printed FRT that hadn’t worked in his own rifle, and promptly shut down the rental – FRTs violate range policy, and rental guns can’t be modified. Avissar, a six-month member, was “sent on his way,” Crump writes. Four days later, an anonymous text tip to the Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) named Avissar, said he had an FRT, and provided a D.C. address – information that suggests the tipster had access to membership records.

From Anonymous Tip to Search Warrant

The case landed with MPD Investigator Allorie Keleman, who stated (mistakenly, in Crump’s account) that an FRT converts a semi-automatic firearm into a fully automatic firearm. Crump underscores the statutory definition: a machine gun fires multiple rounds with a single function of the trigger, while an FRT still requires one distinct trigger function per shot; it merely forces a quicker reset. 

This distinction is not academic – Jared Yanis points to federal litigation, including a Texas ruling by Judge Reed O’Connor and a settlement involving Rare Breed Triggers, to argue that the ATF’s “machine-gun” label for FRTs has already been knocked back in court. Nevertheless, on October 1, a D.C. judge signed a search warrant for Avissar’s apartment.

A Knock-and-Announce Raid and a Second Warrant

Crump’s reporting continues: on October 8, MPD executed a knock-and-announce at Avissar’s studio apartment. When there was no response, officers forced entry and detained him without incident. In “plain view,” they found several 3D-printed FRTs near the bed. Sgt. Scott Possinger then obtained an addendum warrant to seize electronics. Police collected a 3D printer, filament, multiple storage devices, laptops, a phone, and several firearms. The specificity here matters, because possession of gun files and CAD data became part of the investigative narrative – something Yanis notes can chill speech and tinkering in the 3D-gun space even when the underlying parts don’t meet the legal definition of a machine gun.

The Car Search, the K-9 Alert, and the Trigger in the Rifle

Both Crump and Yanis detail a second prong: during questioning, Avissar reportedly acknowledged knowing what FRTs are and said another rifle was in his car. MPD brought in a K-9, claimed an alert for the presence of a firearm, and conducted a warrantless search of the vehicle, recovering an AR-15-pattern rifle. Investigators partially disassembled it and say they found a 3D-printed FRT installed. 

Yanis reproduces the itemized seizure list from the police report – everything from a Smith & Wesson Bodyguard to a Ruger 10/22, optics, ammunition, and the 3D-printed parts – and uses it to make a larger point: the government is treating the trigger as the contraband “machine gun,” even though the gun itself is a standard semi-automatic platform.

The Charges – and the Definition Fight

MPD arrested Avissar for Possession of a Machine Gun and a pistol license violation under D.C. law. Here is where the definitional battle gets hot. Crump stresses that federal law defines a machine gun by multiple rounds per single trigger function; an FRT still requires one function per shot. Yanis adds that Judge O’Connor invalidated the ATF’s FRT classification in his jurisdiction and that the government later settled with Rare Breed Triggers, allowing sales under conditions – signals, he argues, that blanket “machine gun” claims are on shaky ground. 

D.C. prosecutors, however, may lean on local statutes or ATF guidance to treat FRTs as contraband. That mismatch between federal rulings, agency positions, and local charges is precisely why this case could become a test.

What a Forced Reset Trigger Actually Does

Mechanically, as both sources explain, an FRT changes how the trigger resets: after the shot, the bolt carrier’s rearward motion forces the trigger forward into the reset position, so the shooter can press it again without “riding” it forward. It does not fire multiple shots from a single continuous pull. 

In plain English, it makes it easier – and for some shooters faster – to perform discrete trigger presses. If you accept the statutory text as controlling, that’s the end of the analysis: one function, one shot, not a machine gun. If you accept an agency’s broader “rate-of-fire” or “readily convertible” theory, you drift toward classification by effect rather than by law. That tension is at the heart of the case.

ATF Posture, Court Pushback, and a Patchwork Reality

Yanis places the FRT fight in the broader post-Cargill landscape (the Supreme Court’s bump-stock ruling): courts are increasingly skeptical of agencies rewriting criminal law by interpretation. Judge O’Connor’s decision against the ATF on FRTs, combined with the Rare Breed settlement, suggests the agency knows it’s on thin ice when stretched definitions meet a hostile bench. 

But he also warns the battlefield is messy: settlements can be narrow; state and local authorities may still press charges; and not every judge will read the statute the same way. In short, your legal exposure depends heavily on where you stand and who signs the warrant.

The Silver Eagle Question – and Range Policies

There’s also the culture-war subplot. Yanis cites a Reddit post, purportedly from a lawyer assisting Avissar, alleging a Northern Virginia range “ratted out” a member to ATF. Crump never alleges that; he simply notes an anonymous tipster had detailed personal information. Either way, ranges are private businesses with policies, Silver Eagle bans FRTs and modifications to rentals, and their staff are going to intervene when someone starts disassembling a loaner gun. 

My take: you can believe both that ranges should enforce safety rules and that funneling member data to police over contested accessories is a bad look. But the smarter lesson is simpler – don’t experiment with edge-case hardware on a rental rifle at a public lane.

Don’t Talk Yourself Into Trouble

Yanis hammers home one evergreen point: exercise your right to remain silent and get a lawyer. Confessing, speculating, or “explaining” a technical device to investigators rarely ends well; your off-the-cuff description becomes the government’s theory of the case. If agencies are already inclined to label an FRT a machine gun, don’t supply them a sound bite to tape to the indictment. That’s not cynicism; it’s prudence in a world where technical disputes become felonies overnight.

3D Printing, Files, and the Chilling Effect

Crump notes the sweeping seizure of electronics, removable storage, and a 3D printer. For people who design or iterate parts, that’s chilling. CAD files, Git repos, and printed prototypes are now potential evidence in a “machine gun” case even where the object doesn’t fit the statutory definition. Yanis argues that enforcement postures like this deter lawful innovation and speech: people stop sharing designs, stop testing ideas, and stop bringing gray-area questions to daylight. If you care about both the First and Second Amendments, you should be uncomfortable with criminal cases premised on contested administrative interpretations.

What Comes Next – and What Matters

Expect the defense to attack the warrant scope, the car search, and, most of all, the machine-gun theory. Motions to suppress and motions to dismiss on statutory grounds seem likely. The prosecution will try to distinguish prior rulings, lean into local code, or argue that the specific FRT design meets a “single function” test because the trigger never truly completes a function cycle between shots. 

However it’s framed, this is a bellwether. If a court says an FRT is not a machine gun, the case fizzles and prosecutors get a roadmap for restraint. If a court blesses the government’s theory, millions of gun owners will be left guessing which trigger is safe today and contraband tomorrow. My view is straightforward: when criminal liability turns on a technical definition, the statute – not agency preference – must control. One function, one shot should not equal five years in prison.

UP NEXT: “Heavily Armed” — See Which States Are The Most Strapped

Americans have long debated the role of firearms, but one thing is sure — some states are far more armed than others.

See where your state ranks in this new report on firearm ownership across the U.S.