Zack Tounsi

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A few minutes later, Carter was lying on his stomach in his building’s front courtyard, with his hands cuffed behind his back. Sirens were blaring and helicopters swooped low. Dozens of squad cars circled the block, carrying some ninety officers. Carter’s neighbors from the building and from three others on the same block were massed together on the street in a state of agitation and alarm.
Everyone Who Is Gone Is Here: The United States, Central America, and the Making of a Crisis
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