Mr. Abrego has filed an amended complaint asking the court to declare the government’s actions unlawful and to order his release. He describes his torture in El Salvador in the complaint.
While Mr. Abrego sits in jail in Tennessee pending a hearing over his disposition in a bogus criminal case brought by a politicized Department of Justice, his lawyers have filed a new complaint amending the original one that sought his return to the United States after the government admitted they had sent him to El Salvador in error.
This new filing not only references the protected whistleblower account of the now-fired Justice Department lawyer Erez Reuveni – who outlined the government’s malfeasance and coverup of the unlawful removal of Mr. Abrego, but it also details the conditions at the CECOT torture prison, where hundreds of people remain trapped incommunicado as their class action works its way through the courts.
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Beginning on page 20 of the 40-page amended complaint, Mr. Abrego’s lawyers outline the reality of life in CECOT. Content warning for inhumane conditions and torture:
Upon information and belief, all Defendants are aware that the government of El Salvador tortures individuals detained in CECOT. Indeed, U.S. President Donald Trump has made comments to the press expressing glee and delight at the torture that the Government of El Salvador inflicts upon detainees in CECOT.
Each of the 256 cells is intended to hold approximately 80 inmates but often holds nearly double. See Ex. F. The cramped cells are equipped with tiered metal bunks without mattresses, two basins for washing, and two open toilets. There are no windows, fans, or air conditioning, despite the region’s warm and humid climate.
Inmates in CECOT are confined to their cells for 23.5 hours daily and cannot go outdoors. They are denied access to reading materials, including even letters from friends or family. Inmates are prohibited from receiving visits from family and friends. Meals are provided through the bars, and the facility enforces strict regulations to maintain order.
In May 2023, Cristosal, a leading human rights organization in El Salvador, released a comprehensive report detailing severe human rights abuses within the country’s prison system, especially CECOT. The investigation documented the deaths of 153 inmates between March 27, 2022, and March 27, 2023, attributing many to torture, beatings, mechanical asphyxiation (strangulation), and lack of medical attention. Autopsies revealed common patterns of lacerations, hematomas, sharp object wounds, and signs of choking or strangulation. Survivors reported being forced to pick food off the floor with their mouths, subjected to electric shocks, and exposed to untreated skin fungus epidemics.
Plaintiff Abrego Garcia reports that he was subjected to severe mistreatment upon arrival at CECOT, including but not limited to severe beatings, severe sleep deprivation, inadequate nutrition, and psychological torture.
Plaintiff Abrego Garcia was the first name called to disembark the plane that transported him to El Salvador on March 15, 2025. As he exited the aircraft, still in chains, two officials grabbed his arms and pushed him down the stairs, forcing his head down
There were strong lights illuminating the area despite it being nighttime, and cameras were filming the detainees’ arrival.
Plaintiff Abrego Garcia was pushed toward a bus, forcibly seated, and fitted with a second set of chains and handcuffs. He was repeatedly struck by officers when he attempted to raise his head.
Upon arrival at CECOT, the detainees were greeted by a prison official who stated, “Welcome to CECOT. Whoever enters here doesn’t leave.” Plaintiff Abrego Garcia was then forced to strip, issued prison clothing, and subjected to physical abuse including being kicked in the legs with boots and struck on his head and arms to make him change clothes faster. His head was shaved with a zero razor, and he was frog-marched to cell 15, being struck with wooden batons along the way. By the following day, Plaintiff Abrego Garcia had visible bruises and lumps all over his body.
In Cell 15, Plaintiff Abrego Garcia and 20 other Salvadorans were forced to kneel from approximately 9:00 PM to 6:00 AM, with guards striking anyone who fell from exhaustion. During this time, Plaintiff Abrego Garcia was denied bathroom access and soiled himself. The detainees were confined to metal bunks with no mattresses in an overcrowded cell with no windows, bright lights that remained on 24 hours a day, and minimal access to sanitation.
While at CECOT, prison officials repeatedly told Plaintiff Abrego Garcia that they would transfer him to the cells containing gang members who, they assured him, would “tear” him apart.
Indeed, Plaintiff Abrego Garcia repeatedly observed prisoners in nearby cells who he understood to be gang members violently harm each other with no intervention from guards or personnel. Screams from nearby cells would similarly ring out throughout the night without any response from prison guards on personnel.
During his first two weeks at CECOT, Plaintiff Abrego Garcia suffered a significant deterioration in his physical condition and lost approximately 31 pounds.
Mr. Abrego’s amended complaint is asking the court for an order:
a) Declaring that Defendants’ actions, as set forth herein, violated the laws of the United States and the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution;
b) Immediately ordering Defendants to restore the status quo ante, which includes returning Abrego Garcia to Maryland, where he was before being picked up by DHS agents in March, 2025;
c) Issue a writ of habeas corpus ad testificandum, ordering that Plaintiff Abrego Garcia be brought before this Court for a habeas corpus hearing. At the habeas corpus hearing, this Court should order Defendants to show cause why continued detention is lawfully permissible; and if they cannot meet their burden of so showing, issue a writ of habeas corpus and order Plaintiff Abrego Garcia’s immediate release from custody;
d) Order that Defendants return Abrego Garcia to his prior Order of Supervision;
e) Granting Plaintiffs costs and fees under the Equal Access to Justice Act; and
f) Granting such other relief at law and in equity as justice may require.
For in-depth coverage on the case of Mr. Abrego, the case to return all the prisoners sent to CECOT, and other cases of people deported without due process, you can listen to the UnJustified podcast hosted by former Deputy Director of the FBI Andrew McCabe and me.
A crop field in Oxnard, California, U.S., June 18, 2025. REUTERS/Pilar Olivares
Lisa Tate is a sixth-generation farmer in Ventura County, California, an area that produces billions of dollars worth of fruit and vegetables each year, much of it hand-picked by immigrants in the U.S. illegally.
Tate knows the farms around her well. And she says she can see with her own eyes how raids carried out by agents from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement in the area’s fields earlier this month, part of President Donald Trump’s migration crackdown, have frightened off workers.
“In the fields, I would say 70% of the workers are gone,” she said in an interview. “If 70% of your workforce doesn’t show up, 70% of your crop doesn’t get picked and can go bad in one day. Most Americans don’t want to do this work. Most farmers here are barely breaking even. I fear this has created a tipping point where many will go bust.”
In the vast agricultural lands north of Los Angeles, stretching from Ventura County into the state’s central valley, two farmers, two field supervisors and four immigrant farmworkers told Reuters this month that the ICE raids have led a majority of workers to stop showing up.
That means crops are not being picked and fruit and vegetables are rotting at peak harvest time, they said.
One Mexican farm supervisor, who asked not to be named, was overseeing a field being prepared for planting strawberries last week. Usually he would have 300 workers, he said. On this day he had just 80. Another supervisor at a different farm said he usually has 80 workers in a field, but today just 17.
A Guatemalan immigrant works on a crop field at a farm in the Kern County, California, U.S., June 19, 2025. REUTERS/Pilar Olivares
BAD FOR BUSINESS
Most economists and politicians acknowledge that many of America’s agricultural workers are in the country illegally, but say a sharp reduction in their numbers could have devastating impacts on the food supply chain and farm-belt economies.
Douglas Holtz-Eakin, a Republican and former director of the Congressional Budget Office, said an estimated 80% of farmworkers in the U.S. were foreign-born, with nearly half of them in the country illegally. Losing them will cause price hikes for consumers, he said.
“This is bad for supply chains, bad for the agricultural industry,” Holtz-Eakin said.
Over a third of U.S. vegetables and over three-quarters of the country’s fruits and nuts are grown in California, according to the California Department of Food and Agriculture. The state’s farms and ranches generated nearly $60 billion in agricultural sales in 2023.
If they show up to work, they don’t know if they will ever see their family again.
Migrant worker
Of the four immigrant farmworkers Reuters spoke to, two are in the country illegally. These two spoke on the condition of anonymity, out of fear of being arrested by ICE.
One, aged 54, has worked in U.S. agricultural fields for 30 years and has a wife and children in the country. He said most of his colleagues have stopped showing up for work.
“If they show up to work, they don’t know if they will ever see their family again,” he said.
The other worker in the country illegally told Reuters, “Basically, we wake up in the morning scared. We worry about the sun, the heat, and now a much bigger problem – many not returning home. I try not to get into trouble on the street. Now, whoever gets arrested for any reason gets deported.”
Item 1 of 4 An immigrant worker harvests crops during the weekend, as labor shortages risk leaving fields unpicked, in Oxnard, California, U.S., June 22, 2025. REUTERS/Pilar Olivares
[1/4]An immigrant worker harvests crops during the weekend, as labor shortages risk leaving fields unpicked, in Oxnard, California, U.S., June 22, 2025. REUTERS/Pilar Olivares
To be sure, some farmworker community groups said many workers were still returning to the fields, despite the raids, out of economic necessity.
The days following a raid may see decreased attendance in the field, but the workers soon return because they have no other sources of income, five groups told Reuters.
Workers are also taking other steps to reduce their exposure to immigration agents, like carpooling with people with legal status to work or sending U.S. citizen children to the grocery store, the groups said.
ICE CHILL
Trump conceded in a post on his Truth Social account this month that ICE raids on farmworkers – and also hotel workers – were “taking very good, long-time workers away” from those sectors, “with those jobs being almost impossible to replace.”
Trump later told reporters, “Our farmers are being hurt badly. They have very good workers.” He added, “They’re not citizens, but they’ve turned out to be great.”
He pledged to issue an order to address the impact, but no policy change has yet been enacted.
Trump has always stood up for farmers, said White House spokeswoman Anna Kelly in response to a request for comment on the impact of the ICE raids to farms. “He will continue to strengthen our agricultural industry and boost exports while keeping his promise to enforce our immigration laws,” she said.
Bernard Yaros, Lead U.S. Economist at Oxford Economics, a nonpartisan global economics advisory firm, said in a report published on June 26 that native-born workers tend not to fill the void left by immigrant workers who have left.
“Unauthorized immigrants tend to work in different occupations than those who are native-born,” he said.
ICE operations in California’s farmland were scaring even those who are authorized, said Greg Tesch, who runs a farm in central California.
Farmers and laborers in California told Reuters that many field workers have stopped showing up to pick fruit and vegetables. Emma Jehle reports.
“Nobody feels safe when they hear the word ICE, even the documented people. We know that the neighborhood is full of a combination of those with and without documents,” Tesch said.
“If things are ripe, such as our neighbors have bell peppers here, (if) they don’t harvest within two or three days, the crop is sunburned or over mature,” said Tesch. “We need the labor.”
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Reporting by Tim Reid, Sebastian Rocandio, Pilar Olivares and Leah Douglas. Editing by Mary Milliken and Rosalba O’Brien.
Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem | Steven Spearie/The State Journal-Register / USA TODAY NETWORK
Rep. Robert Garcia (D-CA) confronted Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem about the administration sending a gay man to a prison camp in El Salvador and not even knowing if he’s still alive. Noem said that it wasn’t her problem.
Noem, who has bragged in the past about shooting her dog to death, appeared before the House Homeland Security Committee for a hearing yesterday, where Garcia asked her about Andry Hernandez Romero, a gay hair dresser from Venezuela who came to the U.S. legally to escape anti-LGBTQ+ violence and who was sent to the CECOT camp in El Salvador, which is known for torturing inmates, earlier this year.
The administration, which sent immigrants to the CECOT without letting courts determine if they were in the country illegally or if they had committed any crimes, has refused to try to bring anyone back from the camp.
“Would you commit to just letting his mother know – as a mother-to-mother – if Andry is alive?” Garcia asked Noem. “He was given an asylum appointment by the United States government. We gave him an appointment, we said, Andry, come to the border at this time and claim asylum, he was taken to a foreign prison in El Salvador.”
“His mother just wants to know if he’s alive. Can we check and do a wellness check on him?”
Noem said she doesn’t “know the specifics” of Hernandez Romero’s case but said that since he’s in El Salvador, Garcia should be asking El Salvador’s government about him.
“This isn’t under my jurisdiction,” Noem said.
Garcia reminded her that she said that the Salvadoran prison is a “tool in our toolkit” for fighting crime.
“You and the president have the ability to check that Andry is alive and not being harmed,” he said. “Would you commit into at least looking and asking El Salvador if he is alive?”
“This is a question that is best asked to the president and the government of El Salvador,” Noem responded drily.
Garcia to Noem: "Can you commit to just letting his mother know mother to mother if Andry is alive? He was given an asylum appointment by the United States government."(Noem wouldn't commit to it.)
Hernandez Romero is a Venezuelan immigrant who trekked to the U.S. and entered legally last year at San Diego. There, he asked for asylum, saying that he was being targeted in Venezuela for being gay and due to his political beliefs. He was held in a CoreCivic detention center, where he was screened by Charles Cross Jr.
“The government had found that his threats against him were credible and that he had a real probability of winning an asylum claim,” his lawyer, Lindsay Toczylowski, said.
In March, he, along with over 200 other immigrants, was taken in shackles to the CECOT camp in El Salvador. Even his lawyer said she didn’t know what happened to him until he was gone and missed a hearing in his immigration case.
In a video from the CECOT, Hernandez Romero could be heard saying, “I’m not a gang member. I’m gay. I’m a stylist,” as he was slapped and had his head shaved.
It was later revealed that the evidence Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) had against Hernandez Romero was his tattoos, which came from a report from the contractor CoreCivic, specifically from former police officer Charles Cross Jr., who lost his job with the Milwaukee police after he drunkenly crashed into a house and allegedly committed fraud. His name was subsequently added to the Brady List, a list of police officers who are considered non-credible for providing legal testimony in Milwaukee County.
Cross claimed that Hernandez Romero had crown tattoos associated with a gang. The tattoos are labeled “Mom” and “Dad” and are common symbols associated with his hometown of Capacho, Venezuela. Capacho is known for its elaborate festival for Three Kings Day, and a childhood friend, Reina Cardenas, told NBC News that it was that festival that awakened Hernandez Romero’s desire to be an artist.
“Andry dedicated his life to arts and culture, and he worked hard to better his craft,” Cardenas said.
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June 29, 1925 The South African parliament passed a bill excluding black, coloured (mixed race) and Indian people from all skilled or semi-skilled jobs.
June 29, 1963 A mass “walk-on” (trespass) was organized at a chemical and biological warfare facility in Porton Down, England. These weaponized agents had been researched and produced there since 1916; it’s now known as the Defence Science and Technology Laboratory. Protesters demand an end to germ warfare in 1963 at Porton Down (Getty) Unconscionable activities at Porton Down (From 2004)
Jermaine Thomas, who says he was deported to Jamaica without a passport though he’s never been to the country (Provided by Jermaine Thomas)
Ten years ago, Jermaine Thomas was at the center of a case brought before the U.S. Supreme Court: Should a baby born to a U.S. citizen father deployed to a U.S. Army base in Germany have U.S. citizenship?
Last week, Thomas was escorted onto a plane with his wrists and ankles shackled, he says. He arrived in Jamaica, a country he’d never been to, a stateless man.
“I’m looking out the window on the plane,” Thomas told the Chronicle, “and I’m hoping the plane crashes and I die.”
Thomas has no citizenship, according to court documents. He is not a citizen of Germany (where he was born in 1986) or of the United States (where his father served in the military for nearly two decades) or of his father’s birth country of Jamaica (a place he’d never been).
Thomas doesn’t remember Germany. He says he thinks his first memory is in Washington state, but he moved around so much in his military family that it was hard to keep track.
He spent most of his life in Texas, much of it homeless and in and out of jail, he says. His parents divorced when he was too little to remember. His mother, a nurse, remarried to another man in the Army. They moved a lot, and as she and the stepfather had their own kids, Thomas says he struggled in the new family setup.
So at about about 11 years old, he went to stay with his biological father in Florida. By then, his dad was retired from an 18-year career in the U.S. military, he says. His dad died from kidney failure not long after, in 2010.
“If you’re in the U.S. Army, and the Army deploys you somewhere, and you’ve gotta have your child over there, and your child makes a mistake after you pass away, and you put your life on the line for this country, are you going to be okay with them just kicking your child out of the country?” Jermaine says, phoning the Chronicle from a hotel in Kingston, Jamaica. “It was just Memorial Day. Y’all are disrespecting his service and his legacy.”
From Killeen to Kingston
Thomas says it all began with an eviction in Killeen, Texas, which is about an hour north of Austin. Thomas didn’t know where he’d go next, so to get things out of the apartment quickly, he says he moved all of the stuff into the front yard.
While he was gathering things up in the yard, he was joined by his rottweiler, Miss Sassy Pants, whose leash he had tied to a pole.
Then Killeen police showed up. Thomas says they asked for his ID without telling him what he was in trouble for. He says he responded: I haven’t committed a crime and I don’t want to talk to you. They told him that they’d gotten a call about a dog being tied up. Next, they asked if he had the dog’s immunization records or chip number. He said they checked her chip and didn’t see Sassy’s name, so they told Thomas they’d be taking her to the pound.
The dog was loaded into a truck, and Thomas says at this point, he was arrested. Killeen police confirmed that he was arrested for suspected trespassing with no other charges. That’s a misdemeanor in Texas. He went to the Bell County Jail, where he says a court-appointed lawyer told him he could be sitting in a cell for eight months if he wanted to take the case to trial.
After about 30 days in jail, which resulted in losing his job as a janitor, Thomas says he signed paperwork to be released with conditions. But instead of being released, he was transferred to an Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention center in Waco. He was there only a few hours before being transferred again to an ICE detention camp in Conroe, Texas, just north of Houston.
He says he spent two and half months incarcerated in Conroe, and it seemed like no one knew the status of his case. According to Thomas, a deportation officer told him repeatedly that he had a very unique case, and that it was out of their hands in Texas, and now in the hands of “Washington, D.C.”
“You keep explaining to me that I’m being detained in suspended custody, in detention, but if I don’t have a release day and I don’t get to see a judge, that’s pretty much a life sentence,” Thomas says.
Feeling frustrated with his indefinite imprisonment, Thomas says he called the Department of Homeland Security and the Office of the Inspector General to file a report about what he thought was unlawful detention.
His case only got more confusing after that, he says. After a guard told him he would soon be released, Thomas was allowed a mesh bag to put his property in. He says all he had was some paperwork from his citizenship case and a phone. The phone didn’t have service – naturally, as he hadn’t been able to pay his phone bill since being incarcerated.
Officers brought Thomas to a room full of Spanish speakers. Thomas says he found one man who spoke “broken English” who said they were all being deported to Nicaragua. “So I get to banging on the door, and I’m like: Hey, why am I in here with them?”
Jermaine Thomas in Kingston (Provided by Jermaine Thomas)
Thomas says he decided then that if officers asked him to put his hands behind his back, he just wouldn’t. “I thought, I’m not gonna do it,” he says. “I’m gonna refuse to do it: Respectfully, I don’t mean to be a problem or anything like that, but you’re not gonna just kidnap me and traffic me across the lands and international lines and deport me like I’ve been seeing y’all do on the news.”
The Back of the Airbus
At least they sent him to Jamaica, says Thomas’ new friend and fellow deportee Tanya Campbell. It may be a country he’s never stepped foot in, and it may be he’s only there because of his “appearance,” as she puts it, but at least the language is English. Campbell, who actually grew up in Jamaica, was imprisoned for manslaughter more than a decade ago in New York. Upon her release from prison a few weeks ago, ICE picked her up. On May 29, she says she was one of roughly 100 people brought to a plane on a tarmac in Miami, bound for Kingston.
At the airport, as she exited a van and was being shackled, she noticed a man surrounded by between eight and 10 officers. That’s how she describes first seeing Jermaine. He was the last to board the plane, “And it was like a walk of shame,” she says. He was seated at the back with officers on either side. She assumed he was a fugitive.
Thomas says he sat in the 31st row. Landing was “bizarre, too real,” he says. “It was like a stampede. Everybody just got up and got off the plane.”
Thomas waited in the last row.He says an ICE officer got on the plane and said: “I don’t have records for more than half of these people. There’s something wrong.”
ICE and DHS did not respond to our questions.
Thomas says he doesn’t know what to do in Jamaica. He finds people difficult to understand, plus many speak Patois, and he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to get a job. He doesn’t know if it’s the Jamaican or U.S. government paying for his hotel room, and for how long that will last. He’s not sure if it’s even legal for him to be there.
Editor’s Note Friday, June 6, 4:44pm: This story has been updated to correct the year of Thomas’ father’s death. The Chronicle regrets the error.