Path of Resistance

Last October, more than six weeks before Operation Metro Surge began, Kevin Riach convened a group of about 40 attorneys from across the Twin Cities region to create working groups around anticipated issues. 

“During the George Floyd situation, everything was happening so fast that we were overwhelmed and discombobulated,” recalls Riach, a Minneapolis-based criminal defense lawyer. “Now there was an attempt, ahead of time, to get prepared. 

“There’s just no way we could anticipate how extreme things were going to be.”

Soon after 3,000 federal agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement stormed the state in January, agents were caught on video deploying crowd-control weapons, assaulting, detaining, threatening, warrantlessly seizing, and denying constitutional rights to all sorts of people—journalists, legal observers, peaceful protesters, school staff and children, immigrants with and without permanent legal status, and more. Agents shot Julio Cesar Sosa-Celis; they killed Renee Good and Alex Pretti.

This spring, in the midst of the siege, we spoke with several attorneys about their experiences during the unprecedented occupation.

“We saw the multifaceted attack happening at so many levels,” says Robin Wolpert of Sapientia Law Group, an appellate and criminal defense attorney and former state bar president. “It requires the whole community—nonprofits, religious leaders, Bar associations, the attorney general’s office, and lawyers and firms—to mobilize and shine a light on all the violations and proactively address it. No one person can lead it, and we all have to be driven by a passion for rule of law.”

Everyone was, Wolpert says, and she couldn’t be prouder. “The super lawyers? They’re just Minnesota lawyers right now.”

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What They Experienced

“I’ve seen the federal government violate the Constitution in just about every way you can imagine over the past two months,” says Riach, who primarily represents protesters, legal observers and journalists. He’s co-counsel for Good’s family and Georgia Fort, as well as on Tincher v. Noem, and the suit brought by Education Minnesota and the Duluth and Fridley school districts. “I’ve seen it all. I’ve been tear gassed myself in the context of trying to help a witness in a bad situation.”

Immigration attorney Cameron Giebink of Wilson Law Group has a lot of experience with ICE and CBP, including during the siege, and he says their behavior varies wildly depending on the agent. 

“I had one [agent] in Texas who gave a client his personal phone number in case he had trouble at TSA,” Giebink says. “I’ve spoken with clients [about] others who boxed people in, crashed their car into them, shoveled them to the hospital, then onto a plane to Texas. It’s a person-to-person thing. I think some are trying to do the right thing, but the system they’ve been put in makes doing the right thing really hard.”

Many of Riach’s clients were detained and released with no charges. Some charges came later, and when they did, he adds, they often lacked factual support. “In almost all cases, the allegations in the complaints and charging documents are totally at odds with the video evidence that clearly shows that what the government is saying happened did not happen,” Riach says. “Typically, you look at the evidence and decide whether there’s a case to be brought. That tells you everything you need to know about the impetus behind these prosecutions. It’s not to protect ICE officers or keep people safe. It’s to violate First Amendment rights and intimidate them to stop what they’re doing in terms of documenting ICE activity. To scare them into staying home.”

Despite fear and staggering cold, thousands of residents took to the streets, both in organized protests and piecemeal to document ICE activities. “The courage of community members, who continue to observe federal agents—even after the tragic killing of two of them—is a huge inspiration for me,” says solo attorney Tim Phillips. “I’ve never been more proud of Minnesotans.”

On Jan. 9, Phillips received an invite from a colleague to attend a Timberwolves game. The seats were courtside—a rare opportunity to make a message seen, Phillips recalls thinking. “Coming as someone who’s been an activist and protester my whole life, I felt I had to say something.”

Anti-occupation apparel wasn’t yet widely available, so an artist friend made him a black T-shirt with bold white letters: ICE OUT. During warmups, Phillips took off his hoodie and displayed the words. About five minutes after tipoff, Target Center security demanded the shirt. Phillips declined to take it off, but offered to put his hoodie back on.

“They brought us to another room and said, ‘Sorry, it was our mistake to try to take the shirt from you. That’s not our policy. It’s just you can’t wear the shirt because it’s a political or partisan message,’” Phillips recalls. “We did argue a little bit with them about whether it’s a partisan message, but I agreed to take it off. … It was ironic, because that was Dr. King night. So, if this were the Civil Rights Movement, they probably wouldn’t let me wear a Dr. King shirt. Is that political?”

The incident made national headlines. As a civil rights attorney, Phillips went further. He is currently representing three people in separate Federal Tort Claims Act claims: a protester alleging false arrest, another alleging excessive force, and an immigrant alleging excessive force during pursuit. His phone rang off the hook. “Every day, I get calls about new, awful conduct by the federal government,” Phillips says. 

“The one blessing of being an attorney is being able to do something about this,” Riach adds. “We have a powerful role we can fulfill in trying to protect the rule of law from the attacks it’s enduring from the very people who should be protecting it most vigorously.”

Networks formed to distribute legal information, and practitioners ensured a presence at necessary locations such as the Whipple Federal Building at Fort Snelling.

“I know one lawyer who drives around to these scenes,” Wolpert says, “so if there’s a confrontation with ICE, he’ll provide immigration advice, he’ll take photos and gather evidence for people. It’s really brave. There are so many people like that.”

Lawyers without relevant experience often sought classes on topics such as habeas corpus petitions. 

“I got a heartbreaking call about a great-grandmother who was taken by agents in Roseville,” Phillips says, “and I was so incensed, I called a colleague who I knew was handling them. She told me about a [habeas] training happening at the library near my house in a half-hour.”

In January, the entire Lockridge Grindal Nauen firm mobilized around pro bono work in the face of the siege, says partner and antitrust litigator Brian Clark. “Everyone was on board,” he says. “When a client needed a plane ticket, we just bought it. Partners have given to individuals, because they can’t work or pay rent. Many have helped deliver groceries to people. We’ve tried to do a little of everything.”

That month, Clark attended an emergency training session in immigration law along with more than 300 others. “We take an oath to uphold the Constitution,” he says. “That’s why so many who have nothing to do with criminal defense or immigration stepped forward.” 

With Clark leading the charge, a dozen LGN attorneys filed roughly 20 habeas petitions seeking a detainee’s release, a bond hearing and/or challenging the lawfulness of detention. More than 1,000 such petitions were filed in the state between Dec. 1 and Feb. 19, compared to 73 filed in the 12 months prior. Volunteers helped fill the tremendous need, but immigration attorneys know even successful petitions aren’t the end of the story.

“So much of it is chasing the agency after a habeas is granted, to get them to actually release the person—not subject to a million conditions that have no basis in the law,” Giebink says. Of course, when detainees are flown elsewhere, the effort includes locating them and dealing with a new jurisdiction. “Down in Texas, you generally don’t get bond hearings, so the DHS strategy has always been to move them there as fast as they can. If they do, they’ve moved them into a place where they can’t get out, for the most part.”

“You have to be like a dog on a bone,” Clark agrees. “Once the release is ordered, we get assistance from Sens. Klobuchar and Smith’s offices, who have ways to communicate with ICE and TSA to get the detainees back to Minnesota as soon as possible. We also make sure they’re not dumped outside Whipple without their coat and phone. We know some ICE agents we can call to make sure they don’t sit there for days after a release. … We do everything we can to raise a stink, because the release is [required to be] immediate.”

Chasing down detained clients’ property presents another challenge. “That’s been a huge thing: phones, car keys, passports, driver’s licenses, work authorizations, wallets, cash,” Giebink says. “Sometimes it’s returned, sometimes not.”

Attorneys have heard horror stories from clients who were held. “The food’s inedible—rancid is a word they’ve used—and it’s made people sick,” Clark says. “One time a cell of maybe 80 women had a protest against the food, and supposedly the guards took it out on the person who led that. My clients ate crackers and juice boxes for three weeks.”

The country’s immigration policies have been insufficient for some time, Giebink says, but Metro Surge took things from bad to worse.

“What we’re seeing is a reinterpretation of existing laws in the most punitive way possible,” Giebink says. “Despite 30 years of precedent, they say it means something else. … It feels like they’re running it through AI and finding any word that might be construed to mean ‘detention’ and making that the policy.”

By mid-February, Giebink estimated he’d filed about 45 habeas cases. However, the workload lessened as habeas training became more widespread. “That’s been really heartening,” he says. “The fact that people were willing to step in is pretty great. We need trauma surgeons—someone to stop the bleeding.”

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Day-to-Day Grind

Giebink, co-counsel on Herrera Avila v. Bondi, which sought to end the Trump administration’s mandatory detention policy for noncitizens, saw his day-to-day work shift from proactive immigration work to defensive actions. “Just trying to keep people out of jail after being detained without any sort of process. There are days that are designated as detainee days—just answering calls from families about someone getting detained: Where are they, what’s their background, is it a viable habeas route, how do we move forward? The practice of immigration law just vanishes.”

“Most days bring some new emergency that needs to be dealt with,” says Riach. “Things are happening very quickly. There’s the component of trying to come up with legal strategies to fight this government overreach and unconstitutional abuse of power, and then there’s the day-to-day triaging of emergencies for people who are caught up in it and trying to help them get extricated from whatever terrible situation they’re in.”

As of mid-February, Phillips hadn’t taken on any new cases. “Instead, I’ve been trying to handle the unceasing calls, texts and emails,” he says. “I connect people who want to help with projects, and answer questions from countless people in the community—so many that we put together the website icewatchlegal.org. We’ve been almost immobilized by how many people have questions every day.”

In the case of Alfredo Alejandro Aljorna and Sosa-Celis, the Venezuelan man shot by ICE, the DHS account of what occurred—that the two men attacked agents with a shovel and broom handle—differed from witness accounts and video evidence. While attorneys waited for an indictment before they could proceed, every day quickly filled up with unexpected twists. For example, all three of the adult witnesses were detained and taken out of state. “That hurts our ability to gather exculpatory evidence,” says Wolpert, who represents Sosa-Celis. 

A few weeks later, the DOJ dropped the charges and ICE Director Todd Lyons issued a statement saying the agents had lied under oath and were placed on leave.

“The standard of justice has fallen markedly in this district,” says Frederick J. Goetz of Goetz & Eckland, who was appointed to represent Aljorna. “Discovery is delayed, and the docket has changed from public safety cases and bigger white-collar fraud cases to immigration. FBI agents and others, who should be investigating other criminal conduct, have been reassigned to cases involving ICE officers. All kinds of resources have been diverted.”

Clark’s first habeas petition was on behalf of Indriany Mendoza Camacho and Valentina De Los Angeles Tiapa Moreno, the detained partners of Sosa-Celis and Aljorna. “We also represented the Velasco Hurtado family in Hopkins,” Clark says. “A neighbor was driving the mom, Maria, to work and ICE pulled over the car, saying, ‘Maria, get out,’ so it was clear they’d been surveilling her. They took her back to her house, where her first-grader, seventh-grader and husband were, and used her to lure them out, then detained the whole family and sent them off to Dilley [Texas] in violation of a court order— because I heard about it at 8:15, we filed at 10:15 and we got the order by 3 or 4.” The family was released and flown back to Minnesota.

The circumstances required being ready at a moment’s notice, Clark adds. “The fastest [petition] we’ve done was one hour, but typically you aim for less than four hours because you’re in a race. … Unlike antitrust, where you’re filing weeks or months ahead of time, you have to file something really quick if you want to get your client out before they’re moved. You’re on call 24/7. I’ll put it this way: I’ve slept less than I did during a six-week trial where I was lead counsel a couple of years ago.”

Keeping your composure is key, says Wolpert. “I’m not angry, I’m surprised all the time—so much that you get used to surprises. It’s chaotic. In a typical case, you get it, you work the case, you don’t worry about things like witnesses or your client being taken or possibly deported. 

“Some friends and I call it AA24. ‘Another astonishing 24 hours.’”

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Built Different

And one AA24 after another can take its toll.

“I’m just trying to push through,” Riach says. 

“It’s like a big adrenaline surge,” Wolpert says. “When I’m in this mode, I get extremely focused—huge energy and go all out, all the time. Because of the uncertainty, I’m on heightened alert. I have to be able to pivot in a second.” 

It’s exhausting, Giebink said in mid-February. “I think you just pray for spring, and the ice to thaw in every possible meaning. Today is the first day I’m not going to do more than two or three hours of work since December. And that’s only because we have a software update, so I can’t access our files. I usually start at 7:30 or 8 and end at midnight, 1 a.m., with a gap in there to spend a little time with my family.”

Goetz sympathizes with the prosecutors, probation officers and courts—those who have no choice but to keep going. As for himself: “It is what it is. I’m the boss, so I can manage it by taking as much as I can handle. … I think everyone is trying to do what they can. It’s a level of commitment, a general spirit of, ‘How can I help?’”

Recognizing the signs of fatigue, Phillips had to force himself to slow down and resume some pre-siege routines, such as going to the gym. “I’ve been doing it even though it feels sort of selfish or unreasonable, because I could be filing a habeas petition to get someone’s mother out of custody.”

Fortunately, opposing counsel and the courts were accommodating in granting continuances and extensions in their normal, everyday cases, Riach says. “They understand the situation we’re in as a community. … Everyone’s been very gracious to make it possible for me to keep doing what I’ve been doing. That’s a very positive aspect of this: the professionalism and collegiality of the other lawyers in town as we navigate this crazy situation.”

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The Long Tail

On Feb. 5, prosecutors Joe Thompson, Harry Jacobs, Matt Ebert and Daniel Bobier were honored for their work in the Feeding Our Future fraud case at a bar event, says Wolpert. Those same attorneys had resigned from the office three weeks earlier, along with several others, reportedly in defiance of orders that included investigating Good’s widow. 

“The U.S. attorney’s office has been completely eviscerated,” Riach says. “So many great lawyers have left on principle. It’s a very depressing state of affairs. As a criminal defense attorney, who has most of my practice in federal court, I’ve always been very grateful of our great bench and U.S. attorney’s office. Even though we’re on opposite sides of the ‘V,’ I know they’re smart, honorable people who work hard, are reliable and work with me when they can.”

“The U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Minnesota was one of the best offices in the country, period,” says Goetz. “It’s going to take years to try to get back to those high standards.”

By early February, the office was down to fewer than 20 attorneys to handle a big influx of cases: 427 filed in January alone. “There are good people who remain in the office who are helping to keep it afloat, and I have a lot of respect for those people and the choices they’ve had to make to stay there in those difficult times,” Riach says. To fill the gap, the office brought on lawyers unfamiliar with the district—culturally, historically and valuatively, he adds. “That’s going to be detrimental long-term to public safety in the state. The confidence in the judicial system and the prosecutorial priorities are going to echo negatively in our legal community for a long time.”

“I have talked to many earnest U.S. attorneys who are working hard,” says Clark. “Many stayed to help, and they’re doing their best, which is all we can hope for right now.”

The attorneys anticipate problems arising elsewhere, too.

“The tail will be long,” Clark says, citing immigration issues in particular. “Everyone they detained, they’ll be more on the radar of ICE now. So they might be redetained. They’re trying to do everything they can to get them into removal proceedings, so there’ll be a lot of need there. So many people had their rights deprived. There will be a lot of cases going on for years.”

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Incursions on the Rule of Law

Wolpert recently finished a term as president of the National Conference of Bar Presidents, an organization that provides training to bar presidents and presidents-elect nationwide. For the past four years, she’s led its work related to the rule of law.

“My view now, given what’s happened in Minnesota, is totally different,” she says. “Nationally, we’re training people on programs that bars could do to educate or mobilize people on rule-of-law challenges and erosion of democracy. But it’s another thing to be in the midst of it, seeing all the different incursions on the rule of law and all these lawyers and groups spontaneously mobilizing on different fronts to address it. There’s nothing like what’s happening in Minnesota. If you’re not here, you don’t get it.” 

The foremost threat, Riach says, is the disregard for court orders. “If the government isn’t obeying court orders, we don’t have a rule of law,” he says. “When armed, masked gunmen bash down the door of a United States citizen with a battering ram—with no warrant to enter—to then go in, kidnap somebody in a van and drive off, we don’t have the rule of law.” 

“Once it’s up to an individual [federal agent]’s discretion, that’s not the rule of law,” Giebink says. 

Attorneys were heartened that federal judges, regardless of who appointed them, took these matters seriously. “I can’t speak highly enough about the federal judiciary in Minnesota,” Giebink says.

“However, prior to getting to a judge, we’re seeing lawless conduct by federal agents every single day, and that’s not something a judge can undo,” Phillips adds.

“There also should be rule of law in the streets,” Goetz agrees. “My greatest concern is agents who believe—because they’ve been told by folks in Washington that they have absolute immunity—they can do anything. But that’s not the case.”

When word came of a potential drawdown, lawyers began to think ahead: How can we stop this from happening again?

“We’re class action attorneys, so there’s a lot of talk about, ‘What is a class action device we can use?’” Clark says. “It’s tough, because the Supreme Court has tied a lot of hands with nationwide injunctions and other things.”

“Ultimately, it’s going to have to be a political, not a legal, solution,” Riach says. “Lawyers are fighting on all fronts in our community to protect us. We’re doing the best we can, with the tools we have at our disposal, but the tools are delivered by politicians—their laws, their rules, their people in positions of judicial authority. Right now, the tools are being put to the test and we could use stronger, better tools to protect individual rights.”

Building on the early momentum will require continued unity, Phillips says.

“What has given us the most strength is our networks and communities,” he says. “The lesson we learned in 2020 and relearned now is that our capacity is based on working together. 

It’s not one lawyer or firm swooping in to save the day. It’s connecting across communities.”

Wolpert is ready to help prepare other parts of the country via NCBP. “If you’re next, what are the lessons we learned in Minneapolis? We did it, so here’s how you can plan,” she says.

“People were bursting with energy, commitment and outrage to mobilize,” she continues. “It takes urgency to get you into action, and that’s what I want to bring to bar associations: How to create urgency in your community so you can mobilize from the get-go. The other thing is supporting lawyers if they’re scared—programs showing people in action lets them know they’re not the only one, and that it can be done. I want to teach them about collective action. Bar associations can lower the threshold so people can act, and act together.”

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We Have Friends Everywhere

Attorneys hope Minnesota will serve as a model for others.

“I think our legal system weathered it relatively well,” Clark says. “This certainly didn’t break it, but it bent it. When something like this happens, you have to step up. And that’s why it didn’t break.

“It was uplifting how the legal community stepped forward,” he continues. “The private bar, and the immigration bar that served as mentors to those of us without experience, were incredible. I think the courts were, too. They pulled in district judges from other states. I had a judge from Nebraska sitting by designation issue a release order for me at 11 p.m. on a Saturday night. That never happens.”

Reflecting on the camaraderie she’s experienced during her 25-year career, Wolpert says, “I always felt like I know everybody or, if I don’t, I’m one person away. But, now, it’s on a whole other level.”

“So many people have contributed in so many ways to fight back, legally, against this overreach. There are so many people involved in this that it’s mindblowing and, honestly, inspiring,” Riach says. “It’s battles within battles, and everybody’s contributing in the way that they can.”

Adds Clark: “When I’m retired some day, I’m not going to look back at this settlement for X gazillion dollars, or arguing certain motions. These [habeas victories] are the ones I’ll look back on, because I know I did the right thing. I know a lot of others who stepped forward will feel the same way.”

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ICE Occupation Timeline: Selected Events

12.1: DHS officially launches Operation Metro Surge.

12.3: Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey signs an executive order prohibiting ICE from using city-owned areas for operations.

12.17: The ACLU files Tincher v. Noem.

12.26: Nick Shirley releases a viral video alleging to have documented $110 million in fraud at childcare centers in the Somali community.

12.30: Jim O’Neill, the deputy secretary of HHS, freezes all childcare payments to Minnesota.

1.6: Associated Press reports as many as 2,000 agents will be deployed in Minneapolis. Officials describe it as the “largest immigration operation ever.”

1.7: ICE agent Jonathan Ross kills Renee Good. Vice President J.D. Vance says it was “a tragedy of her own making,” and Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem labels Good “a domestic terrorist.” Federal officials refuse to cooperate with a local criminal investigation.

1.8: DHS issues a subpoena to Hennepin Healthcare to turn over worker I-9 forms, allegedly one of several businesses asked to share employment records.

1.12: The Trump administration plans to send an additional 1,000 agents to Minnesota, making the total count of federal agents more than the 10 largest metro police departments combined. The state, Minneapolis and St. Paul file suit for agents’ “unconstitutional and unlawful” practices.

1.13: Six federal prosecutors quit because of the DOJ’s “push to investigate the widow of a woman killed by an ICE agent and the department’s reluctance to investigate the shooter,”
The New York Times reports.

1.14: An ICE agent shoots Julio Cesar Sosa-Celis in the leg. DHS alleges he and another immigrant assaulted the agent with a broom and shovel.

1.15: The ACLU files a class-action suit for constitutional violations such as racial profiling, suspicionless stops and warrantless arrests.

1.16: U.S. District Court Judge Kate Menendez issues a preliminary injunction preventing DHS and ICE from retaliating against demonstrators.

1.19: DHS reports 3,000 arrests since the beginning of Operation Metro Surge, and releases a list of 13 individuals who it says have been convicted.

1.21: The 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals blocks a lower court’s restrictions on immigration enforcement operations in Minnesota.

1.23: Hundreds of businesses close, and an estimated 50,000 people amass despite subzero temperatures for a protest in downtown Minneapolis.

1.24: CBP agents shoot and kill Alex Pretti on Nicollet Avenue. Noem says Pretti was “brandishing” a gun; Border Patrol Chief Greg Bovino accuses him of attempting to “massacre law enforcement.” Federal officials refuse to cooperate with a local criminal investigation.

1.26: The Advocates for Human Rights files a class action lawsuit alleging detainees are not allowed access to lawyers. Ramsey County Attorney John Choi says his office and the sheriff’s office have opened criminal investigations into multiple federal agents.

1.27: Bovino is stripped of his title and recalled to his previous post.

1.28: Judge Patrick Schiltz criticizes the Trump administration for ignoring dozens of court orders.

1.30: Deputy Attorney Todd Blanche confirms the DOJ has opened a civil rights investigation of Pretti’s killing.

1.31: Judge Katherine M. Menendez denies the injunction requested by the state and cities to block the federal deployment.

2.2: Eight more prosecutors step down from the U.S. attorney’s office. Nearly 30,000 Minnesotans have been trained as legal observers, according to Edwin Torres DeSantiago of Immigrant Defense Network.

2.3: In response to Judge Jerry Blackwell asking why his orders weren’t being complied with, DOJ attorney Julie Le reportedly responds, “The system sucks, this job sucks, I am trying with every breath that I have to get you what I need. … I wish you would just hold me in contempt of court so I can get 24 hours of sleep.”

2.4: Homan announces he’s taking 700 federal agents off Minnesota streets.

2.5: U.S. Attorney Daniel Rosen tells Politico his office can’t address “pressing and important priorities” due to the flood of lawsuits. There were 427 filed in January alone, he says.

2.10: Federal court records show the Trump administration has prosecuted at least 655 people under title 18, section 111 of the U.S. Code—dealing with impeding law enforcement—since last summer, Reuters reports.

2.12: Homan announces an imminent end to Operation Metro Surge, with a small footprint of personnel remaining for a period. “The Twin Cities, and Minnesota in general, are and will continue to be much safer for the communities here because of what we have accomplished,” he says. Judge Nancy Brasel orders the feds to honor detainees’ constitutional rights at Whipple, he says.

2.13: DOJ drops charges against Sosa-Celis and Aljorna. Lyons says two agents lied under oath, and both have been placed on leave pending an internal investigation.

2.19: More than 1,000 habeas petitions have been filed since the start of Operation Metro Surge, Minnesota Reformer reports. In the 12 months prior, 73 were filed.

2.23: A group of clergy file a federal suit for violation of religious freedom for denying entry to Whipple to provide pastoral care to detainees.

2.24: Sworn statements compiled by ACLU say roughly 970 agents remain and, by March, that number will be around 407. Those are in addition to the 190 regional agents working out of the St. Paul office.

3.5: Trump fires Noem, and says Sen. Markwayne Mullin will replace her on Mar. 31.

3.9: Judge Eric Tostrud issues a 111-page ruling detailing “compelling and troubling” evidence that federal agents racially profiled Somali and Latino residents.

3.20: Judge Blackwell orders the government to allow faith leaders to provide in-person pastoral care to ICE detainees at Whipple.

3.24: State prosecutors sue the Trump administration for access to evidence for the independent investigations into the three shootings.

3.25: The 8th Circuit Court of Appeals rules certain immigrants can be detained without bond pending deportation proceedings.

3.30: Deportation Data Project claims federal agents made 4,030 arrests during the surge, more than 3,700 of them immigrants. The majority are from Latin America (roughly half from Ecuador or Mexico), only 106 from Somalia, and less than 25% have criminal records (including misdemeanors).

4.2: Trump fires Bondi. Blanche serves as interim AG.