It was late, streets quieter than usual, as Uriel Zander made his way back to the apartment. The city, in truth, never slept, but there was a calm which settled in right after midnight, once the noise had faded off to a distant hum. Uriel hadn't been paying much attention to the little things—the way streetlights would flicker, or how shadows appeared to stretch a fraction of an inch longer than they had earlier. So, coming up to the apartment building he lived in, one thing would catch his eye: across the street, parked under the dim glow of a streetlight, was a black SUV with tinted windows. Unusual for cars to park along this street, this one seemed out of place. The windows were so dark he couldn't see inside, and it had been sitting there for several nights now.

Uriel paused for a moment, his instincts kicking in. He stood at the door of his building, glancing at the SUV out of the corner of his eye. But after a few seconds, he shook his head and shrugged it off. Maybe it was just paranoia. After all, he was working with the FBI, and this case had already drawn more attention than he liked. It wasn't impossible that someone—media, perhaps, or even law enforcement—was keeping an eye on him. He entered his building, in the elevator, and up to his apartment, determined to push the thought from his mind. There was more to worry about than just that.

It was morning the following day when Uriel sat at his desk once more; across the table lay the case files for Caden Spears, in organized chaos. Each document added varnish, and Uriel knew he needed to strip all the varnish off and show the cracks. Karen sat at the small table in the corner, going through the smaller—but nonetheless important—details of the case. She had been with him since day one and knew the stakes as well as he did. She had not stopped working on the financial records against the FBI's surveillance data, trying to lighten the workload for Uriel as much as possible.

"This is insane," Karen muttered, shaking her head at yet another set of banking transactions tied to Caden's personal accounts. "I've triple-checked everything, and there's a money trail that shows up clear as day. That's the entire FBI case."

Uriel stroked his chin as his eyes traveled across his apartment, where photos and notes pertinent to the case were pinned up—a mind map of connections. "There is one piece that never fits, Karen. I've studied their timeline—solid—but it doesn't feel quite right."

Karen leaned back in her chair, slowly blowing her breath out. "I don't know, Uriel. These records tie him to the traffickers. The FBI has more than enough to convict."

Uriel nodded, his head already churning as he sought a way through the thick web the FBI had spun. "It's the witnesses. Most of them are criminals who cut deals for leniency, right?"

"Right," Karen confirmed, flipping through the pages. "But they'll still testify. The prosecution will have them appear as if they're cooperating in the interest of justice."

Uriel tapped one finger against the table as his brow furrowed. "That's where we start. We discredit the witnesses, find inconsistencies with their stories, or prove they have ulterior motives. If we can take out the credibility of the FBI's key witnesses, we could begin to chip away at their case."

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Karen nodded; a faint sense of hope lit up in her eyes. "I'll delve into their backgrounds. There has to be something we can use."

As she began working once again, Uriel pulled out his cell phone. He knew this case was too big to handle alone, even with Karen's help. He needed people on the ground, people capable of uncovering what was not in the files. He scrolled his contacts up until he came across the name he was looking for: Jake Oliver. Jake was an ex-cop who had turned private investigator, a guy able to dig out what others miss. He'd helped Uriel once before, back when they'd uncovered the doctored surveillance footage in the *Salazar case*. If anyone could uncover dirt on the FBI's witnesses, it was Jake.

Uriel jabbed the call button, and a few rings later he heard Jake's gruff voice behind the line.

"Zander, long time no hear. What's up?"

"I've got a big one, Jake," Uriel answered calmly. "I'm defending Caden Spears, and the FBI's case is airtight—on paper. But I need someone to look into their witnesses. Especially see if any of them have skeletons in their closet."

Jake whistled low. "Spears, huh? You don't pick small fights, do you? Alright, send me what you've got on the witnesses, and I'll see what I can dig up. Just know, that the FBI doesn't mess around. They'll have their own people watching."

"I figured," Uriel said, briefly considering the black SUV parked outside his apartment. "But that's why I need you on this. You're the best at what you do."

Jake chuckled. "Flattery won't get you a discount, but I'm on it. I'll be in touch."

Uriel hung up, feeling a small sense of relief. With Jake on the ground, they could hope to find something to contradict the FBI's case.

But Jake wasn't the only one he needed to contact. He went further down in his contacts list and dialed another number. Leo Ramirez, a forensic accountant, did a lot of work taking apart financial deals that were thought to be impenetrable. If the FBI had their entire case hinged on a money trail, then Leo was the man to find the weak points.

"Leo, it's Uriel. I need to ask a favor," Uriel said the instant the other man answered.

"You don't call unless it's serious, which means—what's the job?" He sounded casual, yet curious.

"I've got a case involving Caden Spears. The FBI's been building it for years, and the money trail is damning. I need you to go through their financial evidence and find anything—anything at all—that might be off."

There was a pause on the other end before Leo spoke again. "Caden Spears? You're really going after the FBI, huh? Bold move, Zander."

Uriel smirked, though his mind was racing. "I like bold moves."

"Alright," Leo said. "Send me everything you've got, and I'll take a look. But you know this won't be easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is," Uriel replied.

Well after nightfall, Uriel had sat amidst the faint light of his apartment, studying the files once more. Karen had gone home a long time ago, but Uriel just couldn't sleep. Restless and intent, his mind was focused on every minute detail of the case. The deeper he walked, the more he felt like he was walking through a minefield.

Briefly, his mind wandered to the black SUV outside earlier. It was probably paranoia, but he had learned over the years never to question his instincts. He made a mental note to keep an eye on it for the rest of the days.

Jake and Leo working on another angle each just seemed to make the pressure build, though he enjoyed that part of it, too. It was part of what made him tick—facing a challenge just like this: one that might make or break a career.

As he looked at the clock, Uriel knew that tomorrow would be another long day: preparation, research, and strategy. The date of the trial was looming, and the FBI wasn't going to wait for him to catch up. But Uriel Zander had never needed anyone to wait. He worked best under pressure. And this time was going to be no different.