E.A. was all over Alabama. Not just where he thought they would be, on the edges of the camp, contained, but more deeply embedded in the state than anyone could have guessed. The protesters in the city were only a distraction, planted to incite the exchange with the CWA and to set up the dummy camps clustered at the base of the mountains while the real center of the group, led by Alias, was hiking in from the north, from West Virginia and Kentucky, to converge at night in the foothills. Xie and FKK gather at Jo’s to watch the video: a chain of protesters sitting cross-legged on the land marked by surveyor’s flags, arm in arm, locked neck-to-neck. Everyone in black, no logos. The hair on Xie’s arms standing up as the camera pans down the line, endless, he tries to count but loses track after a hundred, two hundred, the camera keeps marching on and still there is no limit. A huge banner held up with poles driven into the dirt, white on black, WE WITNESS THE RAPE AND MURDER OF MOTHER NATURE. The line snakes up the foothills, protesters chained by the waist to trees, black bandannas covering their mouths, their heads. The video goes on for ten minutes, fifteen, no sound, and then suddenly cuts to Alias pinned by his shoulders to a tree, three men holding him there as the jaws of a bolt cutter clamp down on the lock around his waist, snapping the metal in half. Alias arching like a fish fighting for water, a constant hoarse bellow as a cop in riot gear rolls him over, knee in his back, Alias’s cheek scraped deep on a stone, blood against the dirt. Xie touches his own face. Leni crying into the neck of her shirt. You can’t take it, Alias screams, over and over. You can’t take it. A boot hits him in the ribs once, twice. Fuck, Jo breathes, scrubbing her nose with the heel of her hand. The video cuts to a report about five million dollars’ worth of clear-cutting equipment sabotaged in Guatemala, the E.A. sign painted in red on the side of a truck. A warrant for Nova’s arrest, her face on camera, maskless. Founder of an international terrorist organization. Jo shuts the lid of her laptop. Xie’s heart pounding. Leni curled on the bed. Did you know there would be so many of them? Xie asks. Jo still staring at the closed computer, mute shake of her head. I can’t believe they’re calling them terrorists, Leni says into the pillow. They’re the fucking terrorists. Jo pushes the laptop beneath the bed, goes to the bathroom, shuts the door behind her. Xie just sits. He remembers what Nova said, about people like them always working in the dark; and now Nova and Alias and all the rest there, in the light, the most dangerous place to be.