After nearly two weeks of testimony and more than 15 hours of deliberation, a federal jury in Fort Worth returned a mixed set of verdicts for the nine defendants tried in connection with the 2025 attack outside the Prairieland ICE Detention Facility in Alvarado.
In her report for FOX 4 Dallas-Fort Worth, Amelia Jones said the jury found eight of the nine defendants guilty on charges tied to terrorism-related counts, while only one man, Benjamin Song, was convicted of attempted murder.
The verdict ends one major chapter in a case that federal prosecutors treated as highly significant. Jones noted that the government has described it as the first federal prosecution in the country tied to alleged Antifa-related domestic terrorism charges. That label has drawn a lot of political heat around the case, and it is worth saying clearly that the trial itself centered on what prosecutors said these particular defendants did on one specific night, not on proving some broad national theory about every person who uses the anti-fascist label.
Even so, the facts at the center of the trial were serious. A police officer was shot and wounded. Fireworks and weapons were part of the scene. Officers and detention staff were targeted during a chaotic confrontation outside an immigration detention center during a period when ICE operations had already become one of the country’s most combustible political flashpoints.
That larger context matters, because cases like this are never argued in a vacuum. They happen inside a climate already loaded with anger, distrust, and political messaging from every direction.
A Trial Built Around a July 4 Attack
Jones reported that the case stemmed from an incident on July 4, 2025, when eight of the defendants went to the Alvarado detention center to stage what they described as a noise demonstration using fireworks. But according to the prosecution’s case, the gathering was not just noisy or confrontational. Authorities said the group also brought firearms, body armor, radios, and explosives-related materials to the scene.
Facility employees called police, and the situation escalated fast.
According to Jones, Benjamin Song shot and injured Alvarado Police Department Lt. Thomas Gross, who had responded to the facility that night. The jury later found Song guilty of attempted murder for that shooting, making him the only one among the nine convicted on that most serious count.
Police also recovered multiple rifles, pistols, two-way radios, and body armor at the scene, which prosecutors used to argue that this was not a spontaneous protest that simply spun out of control. Their theory was that it had been organized as an ambush.
Defense lawyers pushed back on that idea throughout the case, arguing there was no real ambush plan and that their clients did not intend for violence to happen. That gap between the government’s story and the defense’s story sat at the center of the trial, and in the end the jury split the difference in at least one important way: it convicted heavily, but not evenly.
Why the Verdict Was Called a “Mix”
Amelia Jones described the outcome as a mix of guilty verdicts, and that is the right way to frame it.
The jury had to consider 12 charges, with the most serious including attempted murder and providing material support for terrorism. In the end, eight of the nine defendants were found guilty on the terrorism-support counts, while only Song was convicted of attempted murder.
That distinction matters because it shows the jury did not simply accept every count against every person as charged. According to the details included in Jones’s report, some defendants were found not guilty on certain firearm-related and attempted murder counts even while being convicted on others. That suggests a jury that did not rubber-stamp the prosecution’s full case, even though it still delivered a strong win to the government overall.
The report says Daniel Rolando Sanchez Estrada stood apart from the others because he was not present at the detention center that night. He was instead found guilty on charges related to concealing documents. Jones said he now faces up to 40 years in federal prison.
The possible penalties for the others are also severe. Jones reported that Song faces 20 years to life in prison, while seven of the other defendants face sentencing ranges from 10 to 60 years.
That is where the weight of this case really lands. Even before sentencing hearings begin, the scale of the prison exposure tells you this was not treated by the government as a protest case that turned violent. It was prosecuted as something far more serious and far more political.
Defense Lawyers Said the Case Was Overcharged
Jones said federal prosecutors declined to speak to reporters after the verdict, but several defense lawyers did, and they did not hide their disappointment.
Lesa Pamplin, the attorney for Maricela Rueda, told reporters, “My heart breaks for all of them, really.” She also said she was shocked by the result and argued that the government had overreached in how it chose to frame the case.
Pamplin’s comments, as Jones reported them, centered on her belief that calling the conduct terrorism was itself a step too far. She said she did not think riot-related conduct or what she saw as protest-related conduct should be elevated to that level.
Another defense lawyer, Warren St. John, who represented Megan Morris, also criticized the government’s approach. Jones quoted him saying he believed the case was overcharged. At the same time, he said he respected the jury’s effort and believed jurors had done their best with a complicated set of facts.
Those reactions deserve attention because they reflect a real concern that will continue even after the verdict: how far federal prosecutors should go when they decide to turn political violence cases into terrorism cases.
That does not mean the attack should be excused. A police officer was shot in the neck and survived. Weapons were recovered. The confrontation was serious. But there is still a fair question about whether every tool available to federal prosecutors should be used every time political violence intersects with protest, especially in an era when governments often seem eager to make examples out of some movements while minimizing violence around others.
ICE, Protest, and the Politics Around the Case
One reason this trial drew so much attention is that it involved an ICE detention facility, and ICE has become one of the most polarizing symbols in American politics.
Jones’s report stayed focused on the courtroom, but the background is impossible to ignore. ICE raids, detention practices, and aggressive immigration enforcement have fueled protests across the country for years, and those tensions only got sharper during the last year. That does not justify an armed attack on a detention center or the shooting of an officer. It does help explain why a protest outside an ICE facility would attract strong emotions, heavy political rhetoric, and a courtroom narrative much bigger than the incident itself.
That broader backdrop also explains why supporters showed up outside the courthouse throughout the trial. Jones reported that demonstrators gathered across the street, family members attended proceedings, and after the verdict some supporters chased the vans carrying the prisoners and shouted, “We love you!”
That scene says a lot about how divided public opinion still is around this case. To one side, these defendants were dangerous political extremists who crossed a clear line into armed violence. To another, they were being made into symbols by a federal government eager to wrap harsh law-and-order language around a chaotic protest at an ICE site.
The truth is that both things can overlap in uncomfortable ways. Some people involved in anti-fascist activism do move in more militant circles, and some do commit serious crimes. At the same time, federal authorities and political leaders are often eager to use high-profile cases to paint broader movements with the darkest brush possible.
That is part of what makes objective reporting on this case so important.
What the Government Said After the Verdict
Although prosecutors themselves did not speak outside court, Jones reported that ICE Acting Director Todd Lyons issued a statement saying the outcome should serve as a warning to anyone who targets federal officers with intimidation, ambush tactics, or political violence.
That statement was clearly written to send a message beyond these nine defendants. Federal officials want this case seen as a deterrent. They want other activists, protest groups, and would-be attackers to understand that armed actions against immigration facilities or responding officers will be treated as major federal crimes.
That is not surprising. What is notable is how hard the government appears to be leaning into the symbolic meaning of this prosecution.
That symbolism cuts both ways. On one hand, the shooting of a responding police officer and the evidence recovered from the scene make this a serious criminal case. On the other hand, once the government presents it as a landmark prosecution tied to a broad ideological label, the case becomes something more than a narrow trial about one night in Alvarado.
It becomes political theater as well as criminal law.
Sentencing Is Still Ahead, and That May Be the Next Big Battle
The verdict is in, but the next major fight will likely be over punishment.
Jones said one defense attorney told reporters that sentencing hearings are expected in June. That part of the process may end up drawing just as much attention as the trial itself, especially because the possible penalties are so steep.
Song’s conviction for attempted murder exposes him to the heaviest punishment, but the others also face years or even decades in prison. That is where the argument over proportionality will likely become even louder.
There is little public sympathy for shooting at officers or attacking a secured detention site with firearms in the mix. But sentencing in federal political violence cases has become a place where judges and prosecutors often try to send much larger messages than the underlying individual conduct alone would suggest. If that happens here, the criticism that the case was overcharged may evolve into an argument that it is also being overpunished.
That does not erase the seriousness of what happened. It simply means the justice system still has another test ahead: whether it can punish violent conduct without turning defendants into props in a broader ideological war.
A Verdict With Consequences Beyond One Courtroom
Amelia Jones’s report captured the key fact of the day well: this was a mixed verdict, but it was still a major government win.
Eight defendants were convicted on terrorism-related counts. Benjamin Song was convicted of attempted murder for shooting Lt. Gross. One defendant who was not even present that night was convicted on document-concealment charges. Supporters outside the courthouse showed that the defendants still have people behind them, while defense lawyers made clear they believe the government pushed the case much too far.
What remains unsettled is the larger meaning of it all.
This was not a peaceful protest case, and it should not be minimized that way. A real officer was wounded, and armed confrontation at a detention facility is not protected political expression. But it is also true that the government had every incentive to make this trial stand for something much bigger than the facts of one July night. That is often how federal power works in cases tied to protest, ideology, and politically convenient enemies.
Now the jury has spoken. The next question is whether the sentencing phase turns a hard verdict into an even harsher example.
Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.
