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MINNEAPOLIS — Work starts around sunrise for many federal officers carrying out the immigration crackdown in and around the Twin Cities, with hundreds of people in tactical gear emerging from a bland office building near the main airport.

Within minutes, hulking SUVs, pickup trucks and minivans begin leaving, forming the unmarked convoys that quickly have become feared and common sights in the streets of Minneapolis, St. Paul and their suburbs.

Protesters also arrive early, braving the cold to stand across the street from the fenced-in federal compound, which houses an immigration court and government offices. “Go home!” they shout as convoys roar past. “ICE out!”

Things often turn uglier after nightfall, when the convoys return and the protesters sometimes grow angrier, shaking fences and occasionally smacking passing cars. Eventually the federal officers march toward them, firing tear gas and flash grenades before hauling away at least a few people.

“We’re not going anywhere!” a woman shouted on a recent morning. “We’re here until you leave.”

This is the daily rhythm of Operation Metro Surge, the Trump administration’s latest and biggest crackdown yet, with more than 2,000 officers taking part. The surge has pitted city and state officials against the federal government, sparked daily clashes between activists and immigration officers in the deeply liberal cities, and left a mother of three dead.

The crackdown is barely noticeable in some areas, particularly in whiter, wealthier neighborhoods and suburbs, where convoys and tear gas are rare. And even in neighborhoods where masked immigration officers are common, they often move with ghost-like quickness, making arrests and disappearing before protesters can gather in force.

Still, the surge can be felt across broad swaths of the Twin Cities area, which is home to more than 3 million people.

“We don’t use the word ‘invasion’ lightly,” Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, a Democrat, told reporters this week, noting that his police force has just 600 officers. “What we are seeing is thousands — plural, thousands — of federal agents coming into our city.”

Those agents have an outsize presence in a small city.

It can take hours to drive across Los Angeles or Chicago, both targets of Trump administration crackdowns. It can take 15 minutes to cross Minneapolis.

So as worry ripples through the region, children are skipping school or learning remotely, families are avoiding religious services, and many businesses, especially in immigrant neighborhoods, have closed temporarily.

Drive down Lake Street, an immigrant hub since the days when newcomers came to Minneapolis from Norway and Sweden, and the sidewalks seem crowded only with activists standing watch, ready to blow warning whistles at the first sign of a convoy.

At La Michoacana Purepecha, where customers can order ice cream, chocolate-covered bananas and pork rinds, the door is locked and staff lets in people one at a time. Nearby, at Taqueria Los Ocampo, a sign in English and Spanish says the restaurant is temporarily closed because of “current conditions.”

A dozen blocks away at the Karmel Mall, where the city’s large Somali community goes for everything from food and coffee to tax preparation, signs on the doors warn, “No ICE enter without court order.”

The shadow of George Floyd

It’s been nearly six years since George Floyd was murdered by a Minneapolis police officer, but the scars from that killing remain raw.

Floyd was killed just blocks from where an Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer shot and killed Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old American citizen, during a Jan. 7 confrontation after she stopped to help neighbors during an enforcement operation. Federal officials say the officer fired in self-defense after Good “weaponized” her vehicle. City and state officials dismiss those explanations and point to bystander videos of the confrontation, which show the officer shot her through her driver’s side window.

For Twin Cities residents, the crackdown can feel overwhelming.

“Enough is enough,” said Johan Baumeister, who came to the scene of Good’s death soon after the shooting to lay flowers.

He said he didn’t want to see the violent protests that shook Minneapolis after Floyd’s death, causing billions of dollars in damage. But this city has a long history of activism and protests, and he had no doubt there would be more.

“I think they’ll see Minneapolis show our rage again,” he predicted.

He was right. In the days since there have been repeated confrontations between activists and immigration officers. Most amounted to little more than shouted insults and taunting, with destruction mostly limited to broken windows, graffiti and some badly damaged federal vehicles.

But angry clashes flare regularly across the Twin Cities. Some protesters clearly want to provoke the federal officers, throwing snowballs at them or screaming obscenities through bullhorns from just a couple of feet away. The serious force, though, comes from immigration officers, who have broken car windows, pepper-sprayed protesters and warned observers not to follow them through the streets. Immigrants and citizens have been yanked from cars and homes and detained, sometimes for days. And most clashes end in tear gas.

Drivers in Minneapolis or St. Paul stumble across intersections blocked by men in body armor and gas masks, with helicopters clattering overhead and the air filled with the shriek of protesters’ whistles.

Shovel your neighbor’s walk

In a state that prides itself on decency, there’s something particularly Minnesotan about the protests.

Soon after Good was shot, Gov. Tim Walz, a Democrat and regular Trump target, repeatedly said he was angry but also urged people to find ways to help their communities.

“It might be shoveling your neighbor’s walk,” he said. “It might mean being at a food bank. It might be pausing to talk to someone you haven’t talked to before.”

He and other leaders pleaded with protesters to remain peaceful, warning that the White House was looking for a chance to crack down harder. And when protests become clashes, residents often spill from their homes, handing out bottled water so people can flush tear gas from their eyes.

Residents stand watch at schools to warn immigrant parents if convoys approach while they’re picking up their children. People take care packages to those too afraid to go out,and arrange rides for them to work and doctor visits.

On Thursday in the basement of a Lutheran church in St. Paul, the group Open Market MN assembled food packs for more than a hundred families staying home. Colin Anderson, the group’s outreach director, said the group has had a surge in requests.

Sometimes people don’t even understand what has happened to them.

Like Christian Molina from suburban Coon Rapids, who was driving through a Minneapolis neighborhood on a recent day, taking his car to a mechanic, when immigration officers began following him. He wonders if it’s because he looks Latino.

They turned on their siren, but Molina kept driving, unsure who they were.

Eventually the officers sped up, hit his rear bumper and both cars stopped. Two officers emerged and asked Molina for his papers. He refused, saying he’d wait for the police. Crowds began to gather, and a clash soon broke out, ending with tear gas.

So the officers left. They left behind an angry, worried man who suddenly owned a sedan with a mangled rear fender.

Long after the officers were gone, he had one final question.

“Who’s going to pay for my car?”

Sullivan writes for the Associated Press. AP writers Rebecca Santana and Giovanna Dell’Orto in Minneapolis and Hallie Golden in Seattle contributed to this report.

MINNEAPOLIS — Minnesota and its two largest cities sued the Trump administration Monday to try to stop an immigration enforcement surge that has led to the fatal shooting of a Minneapolis woman by a federal officer and evoked outrage and protests the country.

The state, joined by Minneapolis and St. Paul, said the Department of Homeland Security is violating the First Amendment and other constitutional protections. The lawsuit seeks a temporary restraining order to halt the enforcement action or limit the operation.

“This is, in essence, a federal invasion of the Twin Cities in Minnesota, and it must stop,” Attorney General Keith Ellison said at a news conference. “These poorly trained, aggressive and armed agents of the federal state have terrorized Minnesota with widespread unlawful conduct.”

Homeland Security is pledging to put more than 2,000 immigration officers into Minnesota and says it has made more than 2,000 arrests since December. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has called the surge its largest enforcement operation ever.

The lawsuit accuses the Republican Trump administration of violating free speech rights by targeting Democratic-friendly Minnesota over politics.

Hours earlier, federal officers fired tear gas to break up a crowd of whistle-blowing bystanders in Minneapolis who showed up to see the aftermath of a car crash involving immigration agents, just a few blocks from where Renee Good was fatally shot.

A crowd emerged to witness a man being questioned by agents who had rear-ended his car. Agents used tear gas to try to break up the group, then drove off as people screamed, “cowards!”

It was another tense scene following the death of Good on Jan. 7 and a weekend of more immigration enforcement sweeps in the Minneapolis area. There were dozens of protests or vigils across the U.S. to honor Good and passionately criticize the Trump administration’s tactics.

Gov. Tim Walz and his wife Gwen visited the memorial to Good, 37, on the street where she was shot in the head and killed while driving her SUV.

Trump administration officials have repeatedly defended the immigration agent who shot her, saying Good and her vehicle presented a threat. But that explanation has been widely panned by Walz and others based on videos of the confrontation.

Christian Molina, a U.S. citizen who lives in Coon Rapids, said he was driving to a mechanic Monday when agents in another vehicle followed him, even turning on a siren.

Molina said his rear bumper was hit as he turned a corner. He refused to produce identification for the agents, saying he would wait for local police.

“I’m glad they didn’t shoot me or something,” Molina told reporters.

Standing near the mangled fender, he wondered aloud: “Who’s going to pay for my car?”

Meanwhile, in Portland, Oregon, federal authorities filed charges against a Venezuelan national who was one of two people shot there by U.S. Border Patrol on Thursday. The U.S. Justice Department said the man used his pickup truck to strike a Border Patrol vehicle and escape the scene with a woman.

They were shot and eventually arrested. Their wounds were not life-threatening. The FBI said there was no video of the incident, unlike the Good shooting.

Santana and Vancleave write for the Associated Press.

George Clooney, wife Amal Clooney and their 8-year-old twins are officially citizens of France, as of the day after Christmas.

The news was reported by multiple French outlets as well as the Guardian, all citing an announcement published in a French government journal.

The Clooneys bought property in France — a farm, he recently told Esquire — in August 2021, when their twins were 4. He said it was a “much better life” there for Ella and Alexander.

“Yeah, we’re very lucky. … A good portion of my life growing up was on a farm, and as a kid I hated the whole idea of it. But now, for them, it’s like — they’re not on their iPads, you know?” he said in the interview, published in the magazine’s October/November issue.

“I was worried about raising our kids in L. A., in the culture of Hollywood. I felt like they were never going to get a fair shake at life. France — they kind of don’t give a s— about fame. I don’t want them to be walking around worried about paparazzi. I don’t want them being compared to somebody else’s famous kids.”

George Clooney married Amal Alamuddin in September 2014 in Venice, Italy.

Domaine Le Canadel in France is, according to Hello, “an enchanting and sprawling 425-acre Provence wine estate” that cost the Clooneys a reported $8.3 million. It has a pool, tennis court, gardens, a lake, an olive grove and a 25-acre vineyard, the outlet said. But, you know, it’s just a farm.

Other celebrity couples have put down roots in the area, of course, with less than charmed results over time. Then again, those folks weren’t French citizens, for the most part.

Clooney’s remarks about the French attitude toward fame echoed previous comments made by Johnny Depp, who years ago found refuge in France for himself and his children, Jack and Lily-Rose, until he split in 2012 from longtime partner Vanessa Paradis, a French singer, model and actor.

The country “afforded [Depp] the possibility of living a normal life. Really a simple life,” the “Pirates of the Caribbean” actor told SFGate in 2001.

In 2010, Depp told People, “With Vanessa and the kids, we live in a sort of little village in the south and I have the impression of being in paradise … and you know what I do there? Absolutely nothing.”

Depp, who started dating his “The Rum Diary” co-star Amber Heard the year he broke up with Paradis, listed his Provence property for sale for almost $26 million in June 2015, then reportedly put it on the market again in the years that followed for more than twice the price. However, despite containing an entire village in its 37 acres, the property appears not to have sold.

Heard and Depp married in 2015 but divorced two years later amid allegations of abuse. Of course, dueling defamation lawsuits followed. It got ugly.

Meanwhile, Clooney’s buddy Brad Pitt and Pitt’s ex, Angelina Jolie, have been battling in court for years over the 2021 sale of her half of their Provence wine estate, Chateau Miraval, which actually produces wine. The former couple signed a long-term lease on the property in 2008 and later bought a controlling interest in the company that owned it.

Pitt and Jolie married at Chateau Miraval in 2014 after meeting in 2004 on the set of “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” when he was still married to Jennifer Aniston. (They went official as a couple the following July after Aniston filed for divorce in March 2005.) Jolie and Pitt had kids and adopted kids together over the decade leading up to the wedding, but Jolie filed for divorce after only two years as husband and wife following a fight on a private plane. That also got ugly.

The story of the Pitt-Jolie court battle over the chateau and its winery is long and complicated, but it began with Pitt alleging that he and his ex had an agreement that if either wanted to sell their half of the place, the other would have to consent. Jolie, who sold her shares to Stoli’s wine division, Tenute del Mondo, said they had no such agreement in place.

Although the winery lawsuit remains active, Pitt and Jolie finally reached a divorce settlement in December 2024.