FBI Foils Leftist Terror Plot: ‘Turtle Island’ Radicals Target LA Businesses

Paul Riverbank, 12/24/2025Authorities thwarted a planned New Year’s Eve bombing by an anti-government group in Southern California. The swift federal response highlights growing concerns over online radicalization and the persistent need for vigilance against domestic terror threats, regardless of ideological origin.

Federal prosecutors now allege this group—Audrey Illeene Carroll, Zachary Aaron Page, Dante James Anthony-Gaffield, and Tina Lai—had mapped out “Operation Midnight Sun,” an ambitious and violent plot targeting tech and logistics companies around Los Angeles. The group’s stated aim, according to court filings, was nothing less than to “completely pulverize” the chosen buildings and later escalate to attacks against law enforcement. New Year’s Eve, always tense for security officials, appeared to be their chosen moment.

Digging into the investigation, authorities say the suspects had assembled under the banner of the Turtle Island Liberation Front, a lesser-known collective with a distinct anti-government and anti-capitalist bent. It's the kind of group that flourishes in the digital shadows—using encrypted chatrooms, in this case one with the evocative name “Order of the Black Lotus.” Carroll, prosecutors allege, was the ringleader, the author of an eight-page manifesto outlining not just the “why” but also the “how”—down to chemicals and logistics. Court documents present her recruitment efforts as methodical.

Despite their cryptic planning and attempts at digital evasion—including going so far as to wrap their phones in tinfoil and using apps that self-delete messages—the group was nowhere near as invisible as they hoped. Unbeknownst to them, informants and undercover agents had gained access to their chats, their lists of bomb-making ingredients, and even their test site location.

The government’s case includes unsettling details, including Carroll openly referring to herself in messages as a “Hamas fangirl” and repeatedly insisting on intimidation, not protest. “I identify as a terrorist,” she allegedly wrote, pulling no punches about her intentions or her disdain for law enforcement.

The targets were ordinary companies—warehouses, tech hubs, the sort of places many Angelenos drive past without a thought. The group’s recipes for violence, authorities say, were conventional: potassium nitrate, sulfur, charcoal, basic components for crude pipe bombs. Yet, it was during their planned “test” in the desert—far from any city, or so they believed—that the FBI moved in, averting whatever damage their plot might have caused.

According to prosecutors, the violence wouldn’t have stopped at buildings. There was talk, post-bombing, of going after federal agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Their goal, as explained by DOJ officials, was not just property destruction but to sow fear and cause real harm to public servants.

Commenting after the charges, First Assistant U.S. Attorney Bill Essayli did not mince words: “The charges a federal grand jury returned today reflect the seriousness of the conduct: a planned terrorist attack on American soil on New Year’s Eve.” Carroll and Page, tied to the conspiracy and bomb charges, face the prospect of spending their lives behind bars if convicted. Gaffield and Lai may see a maximum of 25 years.

Officials, blunt about the political leanings of the suspects, were equally adamant that terrorism is terrorism—ideology doesn’t grant anyone a pass. All four remain in federal custody, held without bail, and will face a court in Los Angeles soon after the New Year.

The case also spotlights an urgent dilemma in the digital age. Authorities warn that the line between online radicalization and actionable threat is thinning. What begins as guarded talk in private chatrooms can swiftly cross into the realm of physical danger—requiring both online and on-the-ground vigilance to intercept. Here, coordination between undercover teams and informants was decisive.

As the investigation forges ahead, law enforcement says it’s a potent reminder that domestic threats can arise from any political quarter, underscoring the persistent need for fast, coordinated action. For now, thanks to timing, the only explosions that echoed in the desert that December day were those of law enforcement moving in—shutting down a plot that could have reshaped the winter headlines of Southern California.

On an unusually dry December morning in Southern California, four people drove out into the Mojave Desert, hoping to transform plans laid out in encrypted chats into something far more dangerous. They didn't get the chance. FBI agents closed in before the group could mix a single batch of chemicals. What the agents uncovered that day, and in the months preceding it, paints a portrait of an anti-capitalist collective that had come alarmingly close to a real attack.Federal prosecutors now allege this group—Audrey Illeene Carroll, Zachary Aaron Page, Dante James Anthony-Gaffield, and Tina Lai—had mapped out “Operation Midnight Sun,” an ambitious and violent plot targeting tech and logistics companies around Los Angeles. The group’s stated aim, according to court filings, was nothing less than to “completely pulverize” the chosen buildings and later escalate to attacks against law enforcement. New Year’s Eve, always tense for security officials, appeared to be their chosen moment.Digging into the investigation, authorities say the suspects had assembled under the banner of the Turtle Island Liberation Front, a lesser-known collective with a distinct anti-government and anti-capitalist bent. It's the kind of group that flourishes in the digital shadows—using encrypted chatrooms, in this case one with the evocative name “Order of the Black Lotus.” Carroll, prosecutors allege, was the ringleader, the author of an eight-page manifesto outlining not just the “why” but also the “how”—down to chemicals and logistics. Court documents present her recruitment efforts as methodical.Despite their cryptic planning and attempts at digital evasion—including going so far as to wrap their phones in tinfoil and using apps that self-delete messages—the group was nowhere near as invisible as they hoped. Unbeknownst to them, informants and undercover agents had gained access to their chats, their lists of bomb-making ingredients, and even their test site location.The government’s case includes unsettling details, including Carroll openly referring to herself in messages as a “Hamas fangirl” and repeatedly insisting on intimidation, not protest. “I identify as a terrorist,” she allegedly wrote, pulling no punches about her intentions or her disdain for law enforcement.The targets were ordinary companies—warehouses, tech hubs, the sort of places many Angelenos drive past without a thought. The group’s recipes for violence, authorities say, were conventional: potassium nitrate, sulfur, charcoal, basic components for crude pipe bombs. Yet, it was during their planned “test” in the desert—far from any city, or so they believed—that the FBI moved in, averting whatever damage their plot might have caused.According to prosecutors, the violence wouldn’t have stopped at buildings. There was talk, post-bombing, of going after federal agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Their goal, as explained by DOJ officials, was not just property destruction but to sow fear and cause real harm to public servants.Commenting after the charges, First Assistant U.S. Attorney Bill Essayli did not mince words: “The charges a federal grand jury returned today reflect the seriousness of the conduct: a planned terrorist attack on American soil on New Year’s Eve.” Carroll and Page, tied to the conspiracy and bomb charges, face the prospect of spending their lives behind bars if convicted. Gaffield and Lai may see a maximum of 25 years.Officials, blunt about the political leanings of the suspects, were equally adamant that terrorism is terrorism—ideology doesn’t grant anyone a pass. All four remain in federal custody, held without bail, and will face a court in Los Angeles soon after the New Year.The case also spotlights an urgent dilemma in the digital age. Authorities warn that the line between online radicalization and actionable threat is thinning. What begins as guarded talk in private chatrooms can swiftly cross into the realm of physical danger—requiring both online and on-the-ground vigilance to intercept. Here, coordination between undercover teams and informants was decisive.As the investigation forges ahead, law enforcement says it’s a potent reminder that domestic threats can arise from any political quarter, underscoring the persistent need for fast, coordinated action. For now, thanks to timing, the only explosions that echoed in the desert that December day were those of law enforcement moving in—shutting down a plot that could have reshaped the winter headlines of Southern California.