Tran

UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT

MIDDLE DISTRICT OF FLORIDA

FORT MYERS DIVISION

LUC QUY TRAN,

Petitioner, Case No. 2:25-cv-1224-KCD-NPM

v.

WARDEN, FLORIDA SOFT SIDE

SOUTH DETENTION CENTER,

MIAMI FIELD OFFICE

DIRECTOR, IMMIGRATION AND

CUSTOMS ENFORCEMENT’S

ENFORCEMENT AND REMOVAL

OPERATIONS, ACTING

DIRECTOR OF IMMIGRATION

AND CUSTOMS ENFORCEMENT,

SECRETARY OF HOMELAND

SECURITY, U.S. ATTORNEY

GENERAL,

Respondents.

/

ORDER

Petitioner Luc Quy Tran is a Vietnamese national who arrived in the

United States as a child. He was later convicted of murder, and an

immigration judge ordered his removal. See Tran v. State, 667 So. 2d 812

(Fla. Dist. Ct. App. 1995).1 Because the Government could not effectuate his

return to Vietnam due to repatriation issues, U.S. Immigration and Customs

1 Unless otherwise indicated, all internal quotation marks, citations, case history, and

alterations have been omitted in this and later citations.

Enforcement (“ICE”) released him on an order of supervision in 2003. (See

Doc. 1 at 1-2.)

For over twenty years, Tran lived in the community and apparently

complied with his conditions of release. But then, on December 9, 2025, ICE

abruptly revoked his supervision and detained him. (Id. at 2.) ICE cited

changed circumstances and a significant likelihood of removal in the

foreseeable future, pointing specifically to a new plan to remove him to

Mexico. (See Doc. 10-1.) Tran was provided an informal interview on the day

of his arrest. (Id. at 7.)2 This petition for a writ of habeas corpus followed,

alleging violations of the Fifth Amendment, the Immigration and Nationality

Act (“INA”), the Administrative Procedure Act, and the Accardi doctrine. (See

Doc. 1.)

The Government meets the petition with two arguments. First, it

asserts that the INA strips this Court of subject-matter jurisdiction. (Doc. 10

at 3-8.) Second, on the merits, the Government contends the detention is

legally sound because Tran is well within the presumptively reasonable

period of detention and ICE complied with its regulatory obligations. (Id. at

8-22.)

2 For ease of reference, the Court will cite the page numbers generated by its electronic

filing system for all exhibits.

The Court is satisfied it has jurisdiction. But on the merits, the

Government is right. The petition is therefore DENIED WITHOUT

PREJUDICE.

I. Legal Framework

The federal habeas statute, 28 U.S.C. § 2241, provides authority to

issue writs of habeas corpus when an individual is “[i]n custody in violation of

the Constitution or law or treaties of the United States.” Id. § 2241(c)(3). “At

its historical core, the writ of habeas corpus has served as a means of

reviewing the legality of Executive detention, and it is in that context that its

protections have been strongest.” I.N.S. v. St. Cyr, 533 U.S. 289, 301 (2001).

“Section 2241 authorizes federal courts to hear challenges to immigration

detention.” Grigorian v. Bondi, No. 25-CV-22914-RAR, 2025 WL 2604573, at

*2 (S.D. Fla. Sept. 9, 2025).

II. Discussion

The Government first claims that two provisions of the INA—8 U.S.C. §

1252(g) and § 1252(b)(9)—strip this Court of jurisdiction. The argument goes

like this: Tran is being detained so he can be removed; therefore, his lawsuit

arises from the “execution” of a removal order, and Congress has said district

courts cannot touch that.

The Government’s reading is too broad. It treats the INA’s jurisdiction-

stripping provisions like a black hole, sucking in any claim that has even a

tangential relationship to a removal order. But the Supreme Court has told

us to read these statutes much more narrowly. See Jennings v. Rodriguez,

583 U.S. 281, 292-96 (2018).

First up, § 1252(g) says that “no court shall have jurisdiction to hear

any cause or claim by or on behalf of any alien arising from the decision or

action by the Attorney General to commence proceedings, adjudicate cases, or

execute removal orders against any alien under this chapter.” Id. This

provision “limits habeas corpus jurisdiction, including under § 2241.” Islas v.

DHS/ICE Off. of Chief Couns. - ATD, No. CV 323-002, 2023 WL 2761710, at

*1 (S.D. Ga. Jan. 23, 2023); see also Wallace v. Sec’y, U.S. Dep’t of Homeland

Sec., 616 F. App’x 958, 961 (11th Cir. 2015).

But § 1252(g) does not cover “all deportation-related claims.” Reno v.

Am.-Arab Anti-Discrimination Comm., 525 U.S. 471, 478 (1999). It has a far

narrower reach. It forecloses judicial review of three discrete actions by the

Attorney General: her “decision or action to commence proceedings,

adjudicate cases, or execute removal orders.” Id. at 482. As the Supreme

Court recently reiterated, § 1252(g) does not “sweep in any claim that can

technically be said to arise from the three listed actions.” Jennings, 583 U.S.

at 294. Instead, it “refer[s] to just those three specific actions themselves.” Id.

Tran’s petition steers clear of those forbidden actions. He is not asking

this Court to vacate his removal order or to stop the Government from

putting him on a plane. Instead, he is challenging the procedural mechanics

of his current detention. His argument is that the Government failed to

follow its own rulebook when it revoked his release. Specifically, it skipped

the required interview and allowed an unauthorized official to sign the

revocation notice. A claim that the Government locked someone up in

violation of binding regulations challenges the detention process, not the

commencement or execution of a removal order. See, e.g., Navarro v. Bondi,

No. 8:25-CV-3213-KKM-NHA, 2025 WL 3275944, at *2 (M.D. Fla. Nov. 25,

2025).

The core of this case is not about the Attorney General’s decision to

detain Tran. It’s about whether the Government followed its own regulations

in that process. (See Doc. 1.) Such a claim is best understood as independent

of, and collateral to, removal because it may be resolved without affecting the

Attorney General’s prosecutorial discretion that § 1252(g) was meant to

preserve. See Reno, 525 U.S. at 485 n.9 (“Section 1252(g) was directed against

a particular evil: attempts to impose judicial constraints upon prosecutorial

discretion.”); see also Arroyo v. Diaz, No. 25-62676-CIV, 2026 WL 279656, at

*4 (S.D. Fla. Feb. 2, 2026); Banega v. Noem, No. 2:25-CV-1152-JES-DNF,

2026 WL 234042, at *2 (M.D. Fla. Jan. 29, 2026).

Next up is the so-called “zipper clause,” which “bars review of claims

arising from ‘action[s]’ or ‘proceeding[s] brought to remove an alien.’” DHS v.

Regents of the Univ. of Cal., 591 U.S. 1, 19 (2020) (quoting 8 U.S.C. §

1252(b)(9)). This discussion can be short. The Eleventh Circuit has held “that

the zipper clause only affects cases that involve[] review of an order of

removal.” Canal A Media Holding, LLC v. United States Citizenship &

Immigr. Servs., 964 F.3d 1250, 1257 (11th Cir. 2020). Tran is not challenging

a removal order. So “the Government’s reliance on § 1252(b)(9) is misplaced.”

Fernandez-Garcia v. U.S. Att’y Gen., No. 1-20-CV-23599-UU, 2021 WL

8821923, at *5 (S.D. Fla. Apr. 15, 2021).

With the jurisdictional underbrush cleared away, the Court can turn to

the merits. Tran’s claims are addressed below.

Count I—Substantive Due Process

Invoking the Fifth Amendment, Tran first claims that his continued

detention serves no legitimate, non-punitive immigration purpose. And

locking a person up indefinitely without a valid plan for removal, like here, is

exactly the kind of arbitrary deprivation of liberty that the Constitution

forbids. (Doc. 1 at 20-23.)

A bit of statutory background helps set the stage for this issue. When a

noncitizen is subject to a final removal order, like here, the INA starts a 90-

day clock. 8 U.S.C. § 1231(a). During that window, the government must keep

the noncitizen detained. Id. § 1231(a)(2). If that initial period expires without

a successful removal, the government has a choice: it may release the

individual on supervision or keep them locked up. Id. § 1231(a)(6). Read

literally, the statute places no outer limit on that continued confinement. But

holding someone indefinitely is a constitutional non-starter. So, the Supreme

Court read a practical limitation into the text. Zadvydas v. Davis, 533 U.S.

678 (2001). The government, the Court held, may only detain a noncitizen for

a period “reasonably necessary” to actually bring about their removal. Id. at

701. And to give lower courts a workable yardstick, the Court drew a line at

six months: any post-removal detention lasting six months or less is

“presumptively reasonable.” Id. “In order to state a claim under Zadvydas,”

then, “the alien not only must show post-removal order detention in excess of

six months but also must provide evidence of a good reason to believe that

there is no significant likelihood of removal in the reasonably foreseeable

future.” Akinwale v. Ashcroft, 287 F.3d 1050, 1052 (11th Cir. 2002).

Apply that framework here, and Tran’s claim immediately runs into a

math problem: he has not been detained long enough. ICE grabbed him on

December 9, 2025. Because he has been in custody just under three months,

he remains squarely within the window in which his detention is

presumptively reasonable. See Guerra-Castro v. Parra, No. 1:25-CV-22487,

2025 WL 1984300, at *4 (S.D. Fla. July 17, 2025) (finding habeas petition

“premature” because “Petitioner has not been detained for more than six

months”); see also Jiang v. Mukasey, No. 208-CV-773-FTM-29DNF, 2009 WL

260378, at *2 (M.D. Fla. Feb. 3, 2009); Noel v. Glades Cnty. Sheriff, No. 2:11-

CV-698-FTM-29, 2011 WL 6412425, at *2 (M.D. Fla. Dec. 21, 2011).

Recognizing this hurdle, Tran attempts a workaround. He first argues

that the six-month reasonable detention period “is tied to the beginning of the

statutory removal” and not physical custody. (Doc. 15 at 2.) In other words,

“the six-month period begins at the start of the removal period, regardless of

the petitioner’s actual detention status.” (Id. at 3.) Tran was released from

mandatory detention back in 2003, which means the “six-month period has

long since passed, the Zadvydas burden-shifting framework applies, and the

claim is not premature.” (Id.)

This argument makes little sense. Zadvydas was aimed at the severe,

physical deprivation of liberty that comes from sitting in a jail cell

indefinitely. The Court “used the words ‘detain’ and ‘custody’ to refer

exclusively to physical confinement and restraint.” Jennings, 583 U.S. at 311.

Against that backdrop, it is illogical to run a clock designed to prevent

indefinite imprisonment while a person is out living freely in the community.

“Because Zadvydas clearly involved detention of a petitioner during the

presumptively reasonable period, it defies common sense to suggest that

Zadvydas time can run while a petitioner is not in custody.” Cheng Ke Chen

v. Holder, 783 F. Supp. 2d 1183, 1192 (N.D. Ala. 2011). The six-month clock

measures actual lockup, not supervised freedom. See Akinwale, 287 F.3d at

1052 (“[I]n order to state a claim under Zadvydas the alien ... must show

post-removal order detention in excess of six months [and] also must provide

evidence of a good reason to believe that there is no significant likelihood of

removal in the reasonably foreseeable future.” (emphasis added).)

Tran also suggests that the Court should count his prior confinement

towards the six-month threshold. (Doc. 1 at 17, 20-23.) He points out that he

spent 90 days in immigration detention back in 2003 before his release on

supervision. (Doc. 1 at 17.) By combining these distinct periods of

confinement, Tran proffers that his total time in civil immigration detention

exceeds the six-month threshold, which is sufficient to trigger the Zadvydas

review.

District courts are split on whether prior time in ICE custody should be

aggregated to satisfy the six-month Zadvydas clock. Some have firmly

rejected this cumulative approach. They reason that if “detentions [are

counted] in the aggregate, any subsequent period of detention, even one day,

would raise constitutional concerns.” Barrios v. Ripa, No. 1:25-CV-22644,

2025 WL 2280485, at *8 (S.D. Fla. Aug. 8, 2025). Because the executive

branch is tasked with great deference in effectuating removals, these courts

warn that constantly adjudicating the constitutionality of every brief re-

detention would improperly obstruct that statutory discretion. Meskini v.

Att’y Gen. of U.S., No. 4:14-CV-42 (CDL), 2018 WL 1321576, at *3 (M.D. Ga.

Mar. 14, 2018). Under this view, Zadvydas does not function as a “Get Out of

Jail Free Card that may be redeemed at any time just because an alien was

detained too long in the past.” Id.; see also Flores-Reyes v. Assistant Field Off.

Dir., No. 26-CV-20226, 2026 WL 406708, at *2 (S.D. Fla. Feb. 13, 2026).

Conversely, other courts have treated the Zadvydas period as

cumulative. Chen v. Holder, No. CV 6:14-2530, 2015 WL 13236635, at *2

(W.D. La. Nov. 20, 2015). This approach is driven by the constitutional

imperative to prevent the government from indefinitely detaining noncitizens

through a loophole of release and re-detention. Krechmar v. Parra, No. 2:25-

CV-01095-SPC-DNF, 2025 WL 3620802, at *3 (M.D. Fla. Dec. 15, 2025). To

consider only the current, isolated period of confinement—ignoring all prior

custody—would allow the government to bypass Zadvydas through successive

detentions. For these courts, aggregation is the only way to safeguard against

the precise danger of indefinite detention that the Supreme Court sought to

prevent. See Rodriguez Romero v. Ladwig, No. CV 25-1106-JWD-EWD, 2026

WL 321437, at *12 (M.D. La. Feb. 6, 2026).

This Court declines to endorse a blanket rule that all prior periods of

confinement automatically aggregate to satisfy the Zadvydas six-month

clock. Such a categorical approach is practically unworkable and effectively

penalizes the government for its past lawful actions. If every prior day spent

in immigration custody simply rolled over into the present calculus, the

government’s statutory authority to briefly re-detain a noncitizen to finalize a

removal would be severely restricted, if not eliminated entirely. The six-

month period established in Zadvydas was designed to provide the

government a functional window to negotiate with foreign nations, secure

travel documents, and coordinate the complex logistics of deportation. A strict

aggregation rule ignores the reality that diplomatic circumstances evolve. If a

foreign government that previously refused repatriation suddenly agrees to

issue travel documents, the United States needs a practical opportunity to

effectuate that newly viable removal. Mandating an automatic rollover of all

past detention would force the immediate release of a noncitizen even when

their current custody is driven by an imminent, foreseeable deportation,

ultimately frustrating the core purpose of the removal statute.

Instead, the better approach is to afford the government a new six-

month presumptively reasonable period for each discrete detention, unless

there are facts suggesting the government is acting with an improper motive.

If the record reveals a calculated pattern of catch-and-release designed

merely to reset the Zadvydas clock or evade judicial review, aggregation may

be entirely appropriate. But absent evidence of such bad faith or a deliberate

strategy of looping confinement, courts should presume that a subsequent

detention is a genuine, independent effort to effectuate removal. This

standard strikes the appropriate balance. It alleviates constitutional concerns

regarding indefinite, cyclical detention by providing a safeguard against

abuse, while simultaneously protecting the government’s legitimate,

statutory interest in finalizing deportations when logistical or diplomatic

circumstances finally permit.

This approach finds support in both the reasoning of Zadvydas and the

historical foundations of the vehicle Tran employs (habeas corpus). In

Zadvydas, the Supreme Court eschewed a rigid, mechanical formula, focusing

instead on whether the length of detention remains “reasonably necessary to

secure removal.” 533 U.S. at 699. The Court explicitly instructed lower courts

to measure reasonableness in light of the specific circumstances of the case

and the actual likelihood of a future deportation. Id. (“It should measure

reasonableness primarily in terms of the statute’s basic purpose, namely,

assuring the alien’s presence at the moment of removal.”). That directive

undermines the logic of a blind, automatic aggregation of prior custody days

here. See also Meskini, 2018 WL 1321576, at *3.

A flexible standard also aligns with the fundamental principle that

habeas corpus is “at its core, an equitable remedy.” Munaf v. Geren, 553 U.S.

674, 693 (2008). Because habeas relief is governed by equitable principles,

courts are empowered to look beyond a mere mathematical tally to examine

the totality of the circumstances. Id.; see also Duckworth v. Eagan, 492 U.S.

195, 213 (1989) (O’Connor, J., concurring) (“[T]he Court has long recognized

that habeas corpus [is] . . . governed by equitable principles[.]”). By inquiring

into whether the government has engaged in a deliberate cycle of release and

re-detention, the court exercises its equitable discretion to prevent

gamesmanship, all while preserving the executive branch’s necessary

flexibility to enforce the immigration laws.

Applying this standard here, Tran’s argument for aggregation falls

short. While he points to his prior period of ICE custody, the record is devoid

of evidence that immigration officials manipulated his release and rearrest to

bypass the six-month presumption or avoid judicial oversight. Without proof

of such tactical maneuvering, this Court treats his present custody as an

independent, good-faith endeavor to secure his deportation.

As the Supreme Court has long recognized, “detention during

deportation proceedings [is] a constitutionally valid aspect of the deportation

process.” Demore v. Kim, 538 U.S. 510, 523 (2003). So the executive branch

gets a presumptively reasonable six-month runway to do its job, negotiate

with foreign governments, and execute a final removal order. Zadvydas, 533

U.S. at 701. Because Tran remains inside that window, his current custody

does not cross the line into the kind of indefinite, arbitrary lockup the Fifth

Amendment forbids. Until that clock actually runs out, the Government

retains the statutory authority to hold him while it works to put him on a

plane. Count I is therefore rejected.

Count II—Procedural Due Process

Tran turns next to the procedural mechanics of his re-detention. In

Count Two, he claims that ICE’s decision to revoke his supervision violated

the Fifth Amendment’s guarantee of procedural due process. As Tran tells it,

the agency threw him back behind bars after twenty-two years of supervised

freedom without fair warning or a chance to defend his liberty. The

Constitution, he says, requires more. (See Doc. 1 at 23-27.)

The Court cannot agree. To understand why, start with the baseline

reality of Tran’s legal status. He is a noncitizen subject to a final, unexecuted

order of removal following a murder conviction. His release on supervision

back in 2003 was a matter of administrative grace born of logistical necessity,

not a permanent constitutional entitlement. When the Government

determines that circumstances have changed and it is finally time to carry

out its removal order, the Constitution does not demand a full-dress, pre-

deprivation trial. Due process, as the Supreme Court has often reminded us,

is flexible. It “calls for such procedural protections as the particular situation

demands.” Morrissey v. Brewer, 408 U.S. 471, 481 (1972).

In the context of revoking a noncitizen’s supervised release, ICE’s

regulations strike that constitutional balance by guaranteeing written notice

and an informal interview that allows the individual to respond. See 8 C.F.R.

§§ 241.4(l)(1), 241.13(i). These guardrails are undoubtedly sufficient

considering the interests at play. And Tran offers no authority to the

contrary. See Valdes-Santovenia v. Ripa, No. 2:25-CV-01063-JES-DNF, 2025

WL 3771264, at *3 (M.D. Fla. Dec. 31, 2025); cf. Daniels v. Tampa Police

Dep’t, No. 8:25-CV-01529-WFJ-AEP, 2025 WL 2959658, at *3 (M.D. Fla. Oct.

20, 2025) (“[P]rocedural due process guarantees fair procedure and requires

notice and an opportunity to be heard before any governmental deprivation of

a [constitutionally-protected] interest.”).

According to the unrebutted record here, ICE provided Tran with notice

of the revocation and an informal interview on December 9, the very day he

was detained. (See Doc. 10-1.) To be sure, Tran quibbles with the exact form

and content of that notice—and the Court will take up those specific

regulatory grievances below. But strip away the administrative labels, and

the constitutional picture is clear. For purposes of the Fifth Amendment, the

process he received clears the bar. Due process is not a rigid straitjacket. It

requires only that the Government provide fair notice and a meaningful

opportunity to be heard. See Mathews v. Eldridge, 424 U.S. 319, 333 (1976).

By handing Tran a written notice that identified the agency’s decision and

sitting him down for an interview to present rebuttal evidence, ICE gave him

exactly that.

Tran may vigorously dispute the agency’s underlying rationale—

namely, its sudden confidence that it can effectuate his removal to Mexico —

but that gets him nowhere on this procedural claim. The Constitution

guarantees a fair process, not a favorable result. Because ICE afforded Tran

the requisite notice and a meaningful opportunity to be heard, his procedural

due process claim fails.

Count III—Administrative Procedure Act

Quoting the Administrative Procedure Act’s familiar standard, Tran

asks the Court to set aside his re-detention as “arbitrary and capricious.”

(Doc. 1 at 28.) The substance of this claim is brief and, to put it bluntly,

conclusory. Tran declares that his re-detention violates the Constitution and

agency regulations. But he stops right there, leaving the Court to guess

which facts he thinks actually turn those labels into a winning argument (Id.)

This alone is fatal. A petitioner cannot just drop a legal standard on the table

and expect the dots to connect themselves. In our system, a party has to do

the heavy lifting of showing why agency action is legally infirm. See United

States v. Campbell, 26 F.4th 860, 872 (11th Cir. 2022) (“American courts

function in an adversarial system of adjudication whereby we rely on the

parties to frame the issues for decision and assign to courts the role of neutral

arbiter of matters the parties present.”).

But even if Tran had put some meat on those bones, the claim would

still run into a brick wall. The APA is the law’s version of a backup plan—a

residual remedy that kicks in only when there is “no other adequate remedy

in a court.” 5 U.S.C. § 704. Here, Tran has a perfectly adequate remedy: the

very habeas petition he used to get through the courthouse doors in the first

place. See Trump v. J.G.G., 604 U.S. 670, 674 (2025) (Kavanaugh, J.,

concurring). Because the writ of habeas corpus exists specifically to challenge

the fact or duration of physical confinement, it leaves no room for a

redundant APA tag-along. So no matter how you slice it, Count III is out. See,

e.g., Fleurimond v. Noem, No. CV-26-00037-PHX-MTL (CDB), 2026 WL

507542, at *3 (D. Ariz. Feb. 24, 2026) (explaining why APA claim is improper

in this context), Rivera v. Noem, No. 1:25-CV-01289 KWR-KBM, 2026 WL

381309, at *7 (D.N.M. Feb. 11, 2026) (same).

Count IV—Accardi Doctrine

The Accardi doctrine—derived from United States ex rel. Accardi v.

Shaughnessy, 347 U.S. 260 (1954)—“stands for the unremarkable proposition

that an agency must abide by its own regulations.” Chevron Oil Co. v.

Andrus, 588 F.2d 1383, 1386 (5th Cir. 1979). “It goes without saying that

ICE, like all government agencies, must follow its own regulations.” Roble v.

Bondi, 803 F. Supp. 3d 766, 774 (D. Minn. 2025). “[A]gency deviation from its

own regulations and procedures may justify judicial relief in a case otherwise

properly before the court.” Jean v. Nelson, 727 F.2d 957, 976 (11th Cir. 1984).

As Tran tells it, ICE ignored the rules when it revoked his supervised

release. Pointing specifically to 8 C.F.R. §§ 241.4 and 241.13, he rattles off a

laundry list of alleged procedural missteps. First, he claims the revocation

was ordered by a subordinate officer who lacked proper authority. (Doc. 1 at

29-30.) Second, he says ICE failed to establish the “changed circumstances”

needed to justify locking him back up. (Id.) And finally, he argues the agency

skipped the required written notice and denied him a prompt informal

interview to contest the decision. (Id.) Because ICE supposedly cut these

regulatory corners, Tran insists his detention is legally void, and he must be

released.

Start with the signature line on the revocation notice. Tran complains

that a subordinate officer, rather than a top-tier executive like the field office

director, signed his paperwork. He insists this technicality voids the entire

revocation. See 8 C.F.R. § 241.4(l)(2); cf. Ceesay v. Kurzdorfer, 781 F. Supp. 3d

137, 160 (W.D.N.Y. 2025) (“[U]nder § 241.4(l)(2), the officials with the power

to revoke release after making certain findings include field office directors

and any other officials delegated the function or authority ... for a particular

geographic district, region, or area.”).

But there is a fundamental problem with this point: Tran is reading the

wrong regulation. He was originally released back in 2003 because his

removal to Vietnam was not reasonably foreseeable. That puts his case on a

different regulatory track, one governed by 8 C.F.R. § 241.13. When the

Government decides it is time to again detain someone on that specific track,

it must follow the revocation procedures from § 241.13. See Choy v. Woosley,

No. 4:25-CV-197-DJH, 2026 WL 324601, at *3 (W.D. Ky. Feb. 6, 2026).

Indeed, Tran argues that § 241.13 governs here. (Doc. 15 at 7.)

Here is the catch: unlike its counterpart, § 241.13 contains no rigid

signature requirement limiting revocation authority to field office directors or

other specific high-ranking officials. It simply says the agency can revoke an

order of supervision if changed circumstances mean removal is now

significantly likely. Tran is trying to borrow a procedural hurdle from a

completely different regulation and wedge it into his case. But a petitioner

cannot mix and match regulatory provisions to manufacture an Accardi

violation. Cf. Blankenship v. Hall, 542 F.3d 1253, 1270 (11th Cir. 2008) (“It is

the petitioner’s burden to establish his right to habeas relief and he must

prove all facts necessary to show a constitutional violation.”).

Next, Tran takes aim at the agency’s underlying justification for the

revocation, arguing ICE failed to establish the “changed circumstances”

required to pull him off supervised release. (Doc. 1 at 33.) He claims there is

no hard evidence that his removal is any more likely today than it was two

decades ago. But the regulations do not demand a full-blown evidentiary trial

or a judicial-style opinion before ICE can yank an alien back from release.

Section 241.13(i) leaves the determination of whether “circumstances have

changed” squarely in the agency’s hands. Id. To the extent this Court has any

role in questioning that operational judgment, our posture must be highly

deferential. As the Supreme Court has cautioned, we “must take appropriate

account of the greater-expertise of the Executive Branch, of the serious

administrative needs and concerns inherent in the necessarily extensive ...

efforts to enforce this complex [area law of law], and the Nation’s need to

speak with one voice in immigration matters.” Zadvydas, 533 U.S. at 700. So

“the Court’s review of the respondents’ determination that there are changed

circumstances in this case is necessarily limited.” Nguyen v. Noem, 797 F.

Supp. 3d 651, 666 (N.D. Tex. 2025).

ICE easily clears that deferential bar. Look at what the agency is

actually doing here. It is not just banging its head against the same wall,

hoping Vietnam will suddenly change its tune after twenty-two years.

Instead, ICE has pivoted to an entirely new strategy: it is now attempting to

relocate Tran to a third country—Mexico. That geographical shift matters.

The specific diplomatic roadblocks, repatriation dead-ends, and missing

paperwork that thwarted his return to Vietnam back in 2003 simply do not

apply to this new destination. When the Government pursues a completely

different diplomatic route, it stands to reason that the old obstacles are left

behind. For the agency’s purposes under the regulations, charting a new

course to a new country is the very definition of a changed circumstance.

Citing several out-of-circuit cases, Tran instead proposes that ICE was

obligated to document the “changed circumstances” that make removal likely

and relay that determination. (Doc. 15 at 9.) This argument stems from Kong

v. United States, 62 F.4th 608, 619-20 (1st Cir. 2023). There, the First Circuit

held that “ICE’s own regulation require[ed] (1) an individualized

determination (2) by ICE that, (3) based on changed circumstances, (4)

removal has become significantly likely in the reasonably foreseeable future.”

Id. at 619-20. This level of detail was needed, the court explained, because a

revocation decision should be reviewed “in light of the regulations instructing

ICE on how it should make such a determination. See 8 C.F.R. §§ 241.13(f).”

But there is a glaring problem with that logic: it reads the wrong part

of the rulebook. The First Circuit in Kong grabbed a demanding checklist

from subsection (f) and grafted it onto the revocation process. The trouble is,

§ 241.13(f) has nothing to do with revoking supervised release. That provision

governs something else entirely—the agency’s process for evaluating an

alien’s initial request for release and determining if there is a significant

likelihood of removal in the first place. See Nguyen, 797 F. Supp. 3d at 666-

67.

When ICE decides to revoke an existing order of supervision and bring

someone back into custody, a completely different provision takes the wheel:

§ 241.13(i). And subsection (i) simply does not demand the exhaustive, show-

your-work fact-finding required by subsection (f). It asks only that the agency

determine circumstances have changed and notify the noncitizen of its

decision. Courts have no business slicing requirements out of one regulatory

provision and pasting them into another just to second-guess the executive

branch. Because it makes no sense to jam the strict requirements of

subsection (f) into the separate process governed by subsection (i), Kong’s

demanding requirements fall flat. See Nguyen, 797 F. Supp. 3d at 667.

Tran is essentially asking this Court to look over the agency’s shoulder

and second-guess its operational assessment of its own removal prospects.

But the law affords the Government broad discretion to decide when to

enforce a removal order, and ICE exercised that discretion here and

documented its decision accordingly. See Morales Sanchez v. Bondi, No. 5:25–

CV–02530–AB–DTB, 2025 WL 3190816, at *3 (C.D. Cal. Oct. 3, 2025). That

kind of executive judgment comes with a presumption of regularity, and Tran

offers nothing more than his own skepticism to rebut it. Much more is

required for this Court to step in and declare ICE’s conduct unconstitutional.

See Lewis v. United States, 279 U.S. 63, 73 (1929) (“It is the settled general

rule that all necessary prerequisites to the validity of official action are

presumed to have been complied with, and that where the contrary is

asserted it must be affirmatively shown.”).

As a corollary to the argument above, Tran also claims that the notice

he received did not “detail[ ]the reasons for the revocation” as required. (Doc.

1 at 29.) The Court cannot agree. Section 241.13(i) gives the agency two

reasons to revoke an order of supervision: either the noncitizen violated the

conditions of his release, or the Government is ready to effectuate his

removal. 8 C.F.R. § 241.13(i). The written notice handed to Tran checked that

second box, explicitly stating that his supervision was ending so the agency

could execute his final removal order. (Doc. 10-1 at 5.) It also confirmed that

the agency had made this decision based on a review of his case and the

available removal options. Elsewhere, Tran was told that the specific

destination was Mexico. (Id. at 1.) That maps perfectly onto the regulation’s

demands. The notice did not hide the ball—it told Tran exactly why his

supervised freedom was ending and why he was returning to custody. “There

is not much more information a notice could include that would give an alien

a more concrete reason for their revocation.” Doe v. Easterwood, No. 25-CV-

196 CJW-KEM, 2025 WL 4093531, at *6 (N.D. Iowa Dec. 5, 2025); see also

Tran v. Baker, No. 1:25-CV-01598-JRR, 2025 WL 2085020, at *4 (D. Md. July

24, 2025).

Finally, Tran claims that ICE completely skipped the “prompt informal

interview” to contest his sudden return to custody. (Doc. 1 at 30.) But the

record tells a different, unrebutted story. The Government produced

interview notes showing ICE sat Tran down on December 9—the very day he

was detained. (Doc. 10-1 at 7.) A petitioner cannot just wave away the

Government’s receipts with a blanket denial. And here, Tran did not even try.

He had a clear shot in his reply brief to rebut those notes but offered only

silence. Because Tran left the agency’s contemporaneous paperwork entirely

unchallenged, his claim that ICE skipped this step simply ignores reality.

One last issue. Tran proclaims that because his notice of revocation

cited § 241.4 instead of the correct regulation, § 241.13, the Government is

stuck with a defective rationale and cannot pivot now. But that argument

mistakes a typo for a substantive legal failure. To be sure, an agency cannot

invent new, post-hoc justifications for its actions once it gets to court. See Sec.

& Exch. Comm’n v. Chenery Corp., 332 U.S. 194, 196 (1947). But that rule is

about the agency’s actual reasons, not a game of regulatory gotcha. See Mass.

Trs. of E. Gas & Fuel Assocs. v. United States, 377 U.S. 235, 248 (1964). The

substance of the notice Tran received did exactly what § 241.13(i) requires: it

informed him that his supervision was ending so the Government could

execute his removal order. The agency’s core rationale has not changed

between the time ICE handed him the paper and the time the Government

filed its brief; only the citation did. Slapping the wrong alphanumeric label on

the paperwork does not erase the fact that the agency’s actual, articulated

reasoning was perfectly sound under the correct regulatory framework. In

administrative law, we care about the contents of the box, not just the sticker

on the outside. Id. (“[Chenery and its progeny is] aimed at assuring that

initial administrative determinations are made with relevant criteria in mind

and in a proper procedural manner; when a mistake of the administrative

body is one that clearly had no bearing on the procedure used or the

substance of decision reached . . . the sought extension of the cases cited

would not advance the purpose they were intended to serve.”).

In the end, Tran has failed to show that the notice he received deviated

from the rulebook. The Government gave him the why and the when, which

is all § 241.13(i) requires. But even if we were to spot him a procedural foul—

a misplaced signature, a sloppy citation, or a truncated explanation—that

still would not unlock his cell door. The writ of habeas corpus is a profound

remedy, not a penalty for bureaucratic typos. Munaf, 553 U.S. at 693 (“The

habeas statute provides only that a writ of habeas corpus ‘may be granted,’

and directs federal courts to ‘dispose of [habeas petitions] as law and justice

require.’”). Even if the agency’s initial administrative process was somehow

lacking, Tran can hardly complain that he is being denied a meaningful

opportunity to be heard now. Through this very habeas proceeding, he has

had a full chance to review the Government’s evidence, file his briefs, and

press his legal arguments before an Article III court. He has had his say.

Because this litigation itself has provided him with the exact procedural

safeguards he claims to have missed, the Court declines to use the

extraordinary tool of habeas relief to simply wipe the slate clean. “Because

habeas is not backward-looking, the process provided now renders forward-

looking relief separately inappropriate.” Ladak v. Noem, No. 1:25-CV-194-H,

2025 WL 3764016, at *5 (N.D. Tex. Dec. 30, 2025).

Count V—Third County Removal

Lastly, Tran shifts his focus from the fact of his detention to his

ultimate destination. The Government has made clear that its endgame is to

remove him not to Vietnam, but to Mexico. In response, Tran claims that his

removal must be preceded by “meaningful notice and an opportunity to

respond and apply for fear-based relief as to that country, in compliance with

the INA [and] due process.” (Doc. 1 at 36.) According to Tran, however,

“current ICE policy” does not adhere to these requirements. So, he seeks “an

order that he not be summarily removed to any third countries unless and

until he is provided constitutionally adequate procedures.” (Id. at 36-37.)

This claim hits a few roadblocks. First, it puts the cart before the horse.

Tran is sitting in a detention center, not standing on the tarmac waiting to

board a flight to Mexico. And crucially, he has not shown that he actually

attempted to use the agency’s established administrative procedures to

challenge this new destination. See 8 U.S.C. § 1231(b)(C). Nor does he claim

the Government shut the door on him making that argument. For that

matter, he fails to even explain what ICE’s supposed “current policy” actually

is or where anyone might find it. Tran is asking the Court to preemptively

referee a dispute that has not even played out at the agency level. As it

stands, then, his grievance is purely hypothetical. See Coker v. Austin, 688 F.

Supp. 3d 1116, 1121 (N.D. Fla. 2023) (“Federal courts cannot adjudicate

hypothetical or abstract disputes, or exercise general legal oversight of the

Legislative and Executive Branches.”).

But even if his claim were ripe, there is a jurisdictional problem. (Doc.

1 at 37.) Under the INA, district courts are stripped of jurisdiction to award

injunctive relief that restrains or prevents the execution of a removal order.

See 8 U.S.C. § 1252(g). That statutory command leaves no room to maneuver.

We do not get to play travel agent, and we certainly have no business

micromanaging ICE’s diplomatic itinerary. See Camarena v. Dir., Immigr. &

Customs Enf’t, 988 F.3d 1268, 1273 (11th Cir. 2021). Because Tran is seeking

a preemptive injunction to block his removal, he is asking for something this

Court lacks the power to grant. See Edwin M.-N. v. Green, No. CV 19-6096

(KM), 2019 WL 13299141, at *2 (D.N.J. Feb. 19, 2019) (“Courts across the

country have thus found that they are barred from staying removal, even

when the court might otherwise have jurisdiction over the [underlying]

claims presented.”). For these reasons, Count V cannot get off the ground

either.

IV. Conclusion

Tran has not been detained long enough to transform his authorized

custody into a due process violation under Zadvydas. And his remaining

arguments—whether grounded in administrative technicalities or a

premature challenge to his ultimate destination—simply do not warrant the

extraordinary remedy of habeas relief. The Government is actively working to

execute his removal, and it has cleared the necessary regulatory hurdles to

keep him in custody while it does so. Because Tran’s current detention

remains lawful, his petition (Doc. 1) must be DENIED WITHOUT

PREJUDICE. The Clerk is DIRECTED to enter judgment accordingly,

terminate any pending motions, and close the case.

ORDERED in Fort Myers, Florida on March 9, 2026.

Kyle C. Dudek os ot

United States District Judge

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