NEW YORK — Charges against accused subway gunman Frank James have been upgraded, and hold him accountable as a terrorist for each of the 10 people shot in April on a Brooklyn train.

A new federal court indictment charges James, 63, with 10 counts — one for each gunshot victim — of committing a terrorist attack or other violence against a mass transportation system and vehicle carrying passengers and employees, according to the U.S. Attorney’s office.

The new superseding indictment, which identifies each of the gunshot victims by their initials, also adds an 11th count for discharging a firearm during a crime of violence.

Each charge against James carries the possibility of life in jail.

PHOENIX — Ronna McDaniel’s path to another two-year term leading the Republican National Committee faces a major obstacle: Some of the loudest voices in the conservative movement are calling for her to go.

As she seeks a rare fourth term as RNC chair, McDaniel is facing fierce criticism from a horde of right-wing media figures who reach millions of GOP faithful. Now, McDaniel has to hold down her support on the committee for five weeks as a grassroots army rages against her.

Since the midterms, RNC members say their inboxes have been clogged with hundreds of emails each week — and the uproar has now turned to the RNC’s spending on events, private travel, luxury accommodations and other expenses in an election cycle that didn’t deliver strong GOP wins. McDaniel’s top opponent is Harmeet Dhillon, an RNC committeewoman from California and election law attorney who has represented Donald Trump.

The contentious chair’s race playing out in the public eye follows Republican disappointments the last three election cycles. And the current RNC contest comes as the party braces for a potential 2024 showdown between Trump and other Republican candidates calling for a new face of the GOP — and new strategies for voter outreach and messaging.

PHOENIX — A few weeks before Election Day, Mike Pence stood in the arid Arizona heat to give a boost to someone who was at that moment locked in a fight for a Senate seat.

Pence had been invited by David McIntosh — the president of the conservative Club for Growth and, like Pence, a former Indiana congressman — to appear at a panel discuss on school choice. But first, McIntosh wanted him to say a few words about a candidate he was eager to promote. Pence was happy to oblige an old friend.

“The people of Arizona deserve to know Blake Masters may be the difference between a Democrat majority in the Senate and a Republican majority,” Pence said, as his wife Karen watched nearby. Masters, Pence said, was a “champion” of school choice in Arizona.

Afterward, a reporter began to ask what seemed like the obvious question: Did Masters agree with Pence’s move to certify the 2020 election results? A Masters aide cut him off, leaving unasked the related question: Why would Pence endorse a candidate who denied the legitimacy of those results, the same lie that had nearly cost Pence his life during the Jan. 6, 2021, riot at the Capitol? But Pence made clear during his midterm surrogate work that the Masters’ appearance was not an aberration; the very next day, he spoke at a fundraiser for Diego Morales, a former Indiana gubernatorial aide of Pence’s running for secretary of state who had called the 2020 election a “scam”. In all, Pence campaigned for at least 10 candidates who questioned the 2020 election.

The core of Pence’s identity has always been loyalty — to his friends, his wife, his faith, his party, his country. Then came the day he had to choose between his boss — the leader of his party — and the Constitution. And he chose the latter. Suddenly, Pence found himself in unfamiliar territory — politically isolated. Reviled by former President Donald Trump’s supporters who saw him as a coward but not completely embraced by Trump’s critics who saw him as permanently tainted for having stood by the former president, he had no natural constituency upon which to build the last act of his political project. Now, as Pence peddles a new memoir and ponders his own run for president, he’s struggling to demonstrate where his loyalties really lie — to the former president whose White House record he proudly touts as a shared legacy, or to a wing of the party that is debating whether to unshackle itself from a conspiracy-laden cult of personality. At a moment when Pence most needs to clearly identify himself to a party that is beginning to audition alternatives to its divisive de facto leader, Pence seems stuck in some muddled attempt to be multiple things simultaneously. And nothing expresses that strained compromise quite like his tortured rationale about whom to support on the campaign trail this fall.

PALM BEACH, Fla. — When Donald Trump invited the rapper formerly known as Kanye West and white supremacist Nick Fuentes to join him for dinner on the patio of his Florida club last month, the former president had no chief of staff or senior aide at his side.

There was no scheduler, either, nor a press aide. Only one person staffed Trump at the gathering with antisemites that drew days of denunciations: Walt Nauta, a cook and military valet in the Trump White House who is now employed as an all-purpose gofer for the former president and who ushered the group to the table before leaving them alone to talk. Nauta has continued to serve Trump loyally at Mar-a-Lago, even as he has emerged as a key witness in the Justice Department’s investigation of whether Trump purposely hid classified documents stored at the club from authorities.

The Nov. 22 dinner, described by three people familiar with the event, neatly encapsulates Trump’s post-presidential life — a reminder of how a former president who worked steadily to dismantle the government guardrails imposed by his elected office is now almost entirely without restraint.

From almost the instant it became clear he had lost the 2020 election, Trump refused to accept the results, creating a disorganized transition process during which he rebuffed efforts to prepare for his post-presidency.

After raising more than $100 million in her second bid to be Georgia governor, the Stacey Abrams campaign owes more than $1 million in debt to vendors, two-time campaign manager Lauren Groh-Wargo confirmed to Axios.

Why it matters: Abrams has been heralded for her fundraising prowess and had brought in donations at a presidential level earlier in the year. But money became so tight that most of the 180 full-time staffers were given an abrupt paycheck cutoff date — just a week after the November election.

“People have told me they have no idea how they’re going to pay their rent in January,” one former staffer told Axios. “It was more than unfortunate. It was messed up.”

Driving the news: Groh-Wargo told Axios that a “cavalcade of negative press and negative polling” made fundraising difficult in the final months. She said the campaign had engaged brokers to sell their donor and voter contact databases to try to pay down the debt over time.

The committee will vote on criminal referrals to the Department of Justice (DOJ) during its final business meeting on Monday.

The committee is set to release its report, which will be comprised of eight chapters outlining the findings of the panel’s months-long investigation, on Wednesday.

Monday’s business meeting will also feature some legislative recommendations, Thompson told reporters, which are core part of the Jan. 6 committee’s purpose.

The DOJ has spent months requesting evidence from the panel as it conducts its own investigation and on Wednesday it will finally get its hands on the committee’s final report.

George Santos, whose election to Congress on Long Island last month helped Republicans clinch a narrow majority in the House of Representatives, built his candidacy on the notion that he was the “full embodiment of the American dream” and was running to safeguard it for others.

His campaign biography amplified his storybook journey: He is the son of Brazilian immigrants, and the first openly gay Republican to win a House seat as a non-incumbent. By his account, he catapulted himself from a New York City public college to become a “seasoned Wall Street financier and investor” with a family-owned real estate portfolio of 13 properties and an animal rescue charity that saved more than 2,500 dogs and cats.

Citigroup and Goldman Sachs, the marquee Wall Street firms on Mr. Santos’s campaign biography, told The Times they had no record of his ever working there. Officials at Baruch College, which Mr. Santos has said he graduated from in 2010, could find no record of anyone matching his name and date of birth graduating that year.

There was also little evidence that his animal rescue group, Friends of Pets United, was, as Mr. Santos claimed, a tax-exempt organization: The Internal Revenue Service could locate no record of a registered charity with that name.