The day had just dawned in the Public Defender's Office after Uriel Zander had met with Caden Spears until it seemed even the office itself came alive with whispers: every corner full of whispering conversations where curious eyes were thrown at him.

Uriel looked down to the ground, weaving his way to his desk, but he knew the weight in the air. He had grown used to attention his impossible case wins drew in, but this was on another level. Taking on an investigation case against the FBI—let alone with such serious allegations—raised the stakes to a level that no one in the office had seen.

No sooner had Uriel set down his briefcase than Julia, one of the younger attorneys he'd advised a couple of days ago, came up with an expression that showed hesitant expressions in doing so.

"Uriel, is it true?" she all but asked. "You've taken the Caden Spears case? Everyone's saying you're opposing the FBI."

Uriel nodded, his face cool yet intent. "Yeah, it is true."

Her eyes widened. "That's crazy. I mean, people barely survive those types of cases. The FBI almost never loses."

"I do know," Uriel said, smiling tightly. "But I have never walked away from any challenge so far, and I do not intend to start now either."

Julia nodded very slowly, still staring big-eyed at him in that awed and concerned look. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you."

Uriel thanked her briefly before sitting at his desk and feigned interest in work to block out the growing hum of conversation around him. It wasn't going to last, though. Soon enough, it became clear that his boss, Tom Reardon, was on his way to his desk as well and seemed to have a deeply etched frown set on his face.

"Zander, my office. Now," Reardon growled, pivoting on his heel and stalking toward the corner office.

Uriel wordlessly fell behind, steeled himself for the lecture or advice no doubt in store. As they entered the office, Reardon shut the door behind them with a soft click and sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk, peering toward Uriel with sharp eyes that closed in on him like a vice.

"So, it's true," Reardon began, his head leaning forward. "You are seriously opposing Caden Spears."

Uriel nodded. "I am."

Reardon sighed and massaged his temples. "I'm not sure whether to call you brave or just plain reckless. You realize, of course, what you are up against? This isn't some overworked local prosecutor. It's the FBI. And not some hotspot division, either. This case has national attention, and they've assembled a team of lawyers who have a 98% conviction rate. These guys don't lose."

"I know," Uriel said calmly, without looking away, their eyes meeting Reardon's without flinching. "But I am not going backward. This case defines my career."

Reardon leaned back in his chair, staring hard at Uriel. "You're already on a path upward with your work. You've won those cases that were impossible to win. Why take a chance on this? You lose and down the drain goes that reputation."

Uriel took a deep breath. "Because I don't want to spend my career playing it safe, and what that means is taking on the cases nobody else will. If I win this, it's not just a victory, it's a message. That I can beat anyone, even the FBI."

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Reardon let out a long sigh, his head shaking. "You're one stubborn bastard, Zander. I'll give you that. Just be careful. I've seen good lawyers go up against the feds and get crushed. They play dirty, and they'll come at you with everything they've got."

Uriel nodded a little, as if granting assent. "I know what I'm getting into."

Reardon watched him another second or so before nodding. "Alright then. Do what you gotta do. But don't come crying to me when it blows up in your face."

Uriel grinned, rising out of his chair. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As Uriel started to turn and leave Reardon's office he didn't even make it back to his desk when he heard that all-too-familiar voice. Ellen Price chuckled, wriggling her eyebrows as she headed towards him. "Well, well, well. I heard about your little crusade against the FBI."

Uriel turned, falling now upon Ellen; her arms were crossed over her chest, and a smug grin spread from ear to ear.

"I gotta say, Zander," she furthered, "you've officially lost it. This isn't some local murder case or a gang-related trial you can just pick apart. You're going up against the FBI. You know that, right? Their team is going to eat you alive in court. And frankly, I'm looking forward to watching you lose."

Uriel's jaw tightened, but his voice didn't waver. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ellen. Appreciate it."

Ellen laughed coldly. "Oh, I am not offering confidence; I'm offering reality. You'll lose. Spectacularly, I might add. And it'll be fun to see you fall off that pedestal you've been standing on for the last few years."

Uriel narrowed his eyes. "I have had people tell me before that I'm gonna lose and yet, here I am."

"Maybe," Ellen said, her grin broadening. "But the FBI doesn't lose. You are going to get destroyed, and I am going to be there to watch every minute of your destruction."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Uriel fuming as the echoes of her yelling with laughter reverberated across the office space.

That night, he locked himself in his apartment, accompanied by nothing but the case files. He spread the documents across the floor, going meticulously through every shred of evidence, every testimony, every bit of information compiled by the FBI against Caden Spears.

It stacked up well against him—years of surveillance, wiretaps, records of financial transactions, and cooperating testimony weighed overwhelmingly. Incontrovertibly obvious, the Federal Bureau of Investigation took considerable time to build this case and would not stop until the full weight of the federal government fell upon Caden Spears.

He knew this would not be won by shredding apart every shred of evidence, which on a case held too tightly by the FBI would not work. He knew he was going to have to find something much larger—a flaw in their strategy, a hole in their timeline, or that one pivotal witness whose credibility could be dismantled. Hours channeled into the work by Uriel were teeming with ways of tempest he concocted in his burning mind. He pulled up records of similar cases and studied how defense attorneys fought the FBI in the past. A few won, though that was a rare breed. In their success stories, creative out-of-the-box strategies had been employed to blow up the government's story. By the time midnight rolled around, his desk was cluttered with files and notes. His eyes went aflame with exhaustion, but he could not stop now.

He listed them in order of priority:

1. Credibility of witnesses: The core of the evidence against the FBI came from former associates of Caden, people who cut deals in order to testify in court to receive some leniency. Uriel needed to delve into their backgrounds to find such skeletons that would discredit them on the stand.

2. Financial records: The case the FBI had against them was based on financial transactions that they claimed connected Caden to a drug and human trafficking network. It is here that Uriel needed a way in which he could explain these financial transactions without implicating his client.

3. Time inconsistencies: Uriel had this feeling that there was something that might be a little inconsistent with the timeline of events drawn up by the FBI. He might just get a wedge at the beginning of tearing down their well-crafted case if there were holes.

He leaned back in the chair, staring at the wall. A mountain to climb loomed before him, but he was no stranger to impossible feats. Beyond the mockery of Ellen and the warnings from Reardon, Uriel knew he was a man who could beat the odds. This was his time, the time to show that no matter how much the deck was stacked against him, he could still come out on top. And with that thought in his head, he took a deep breath and resumed his research well into the night. The fight was far from over.