In his apartment, Uriel Zander stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie as the rising sun peeped over New York City. On the other side, his reflection stared back at him, calculative and cool. Today was day two of the trial, time to change momentum. The first day was more brutal, wherein the FBI had taken over the courtroom, and the jury was already leaning towards them.

But not today.

Like Karen, he had been up all night, racking his brains as Uriel worked out a plan that would kick the FBI where it hurt most—the investigation itself. They were no longer to sit and defend themselves against the accusations. Today, they would attack.

Karen met him downstairs, still in a somewhat-perhaps-much-more composed behavior following that really awful first day. A small smile tugged at her lips. "Ready to take them by surprise?"

Uriel nodded, and a quiet confidence began to seep over him. "We do. Remember, today the offensive is ours."

The court was already wild when Uriel and Karen arrived. Reporters flocked outside the courtroom in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the defense team. Uriel could feel the eyes of the spectators fastened on him, their curiosity and anticipation palpable.

The FBI's attorneys were already seated, beaming with confidence at their table. Uriel took note that their lead attorney, Susan Marlowe, was exchanging hushed words with her team—the smirks trailed across their faces, giving away that they still knew they had the upper hand. After day one, they had every reason to.

But Uriel did not budge. Early in his life, he had learned that trials were marathons, not sprints. You could win a battle and yet lose the war.

As Uriel sat down beside Caden Spears, he noticed that Caden looked far more anxious than usual; his eyes darted around the room.

"Stay cool, Caden," Uriel told him in a low tone. "We are not out of this yet."

Caden swallowed hard and nodded. "I believe you."

With that said, the judge returned to the bench, and the trial resumed.

Uriel stood as the prosecution called its lead investigator, Agent Thomas Grainger, to the stand. Grainger was a seasoned agent with the FBI, the cornerstone of their case. His investigation compiled the mountain of evidence that the prosecution had used to overwhelm Uriel on the first day.

Meanwhile, Marlowe took Grainger through his testimony, expounding on how the investigation was done step by step. Grainger spoke to the minute details regarding how the FBI compiled accumulated financial records, data from surveillance, and witness statements and used them to point a finger at Caden Spears for his involvement with the trafficking network.

"Agent Grainger," Marlowe asked, "in your expert opinion, from what you have garnered, do you have any doubt in your mind that Mr. Spears is a major player in this criminal organization?"

Grainger didn't mince words. "Not a bit. Clear as noon—Mr. Spears is right in the middle, narcotics and human trafficking."

Uriel listened to her as one does to a stranger, the whole time his mind racing with what avenue to take next. He didn't get up from his seat until Marlowe was done pursuing her line of questioning.

"Your witness, Mr. Zander," pronounced the judge.

Uriel strode to the stand, his entire being set upon some determined purpose; his unruffled exterior belying the maelstrom of strategy roiling in his brain. The jury watched him intently as he prepared to strike—their attention shifting from Grainger to Uriel himself.

"Agent Grainger," Uriel began, his voice measured, "you have testified to the FBI conducting an intensive investigation of Mr. Spears in connection with this crime. Correct?"

Grainger nodded. "That's right."

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Uriel asked, "And this investigation spanned several years, correct?"

"Yes."

"That was the time when different types of evidence came into the hands of your team—financial records and surveillance footage, witness statements, for example?"

Grainger nodded again. "That's right."

Uriel eased on one side and faced Grainger. "Was any other, alternative theory followed by your team in this investigation? More particularly, was one theory pursued that Mr. Spears might have been coerced by others in the organization?"

Grainger's face didn't change, but Uriel picked up the flicker of doubt. "We considered every angle, but the evidence didn't pop the theory that Mr. Spears was coerced."

Uriel pressed ahead, his voice gathering steam. "And yet you know that when the heat gets on, organized crime takes the fall with the lower members. Can't it be he was used by the ones at the top of the organization, Mr. Spears?"

Marlowe sprang to her feet. "Objection, Your Honor. Speculative."

The judge waved her off. "I'll allow it. The witness may answer."

Grainger shifted in his seat. "Possible, but we didn't find anything to suggest that kind of theory."

Uriel nodded. "Interesting. So, while all of their resources were deployed, the FBI found no direct evidence of coercion, but neither did it find any evidence to rule it out, correct?"

Grainger's conviction faltered for a moment, and Uriel knew he had him. "That's right."

Uriel turned to the jury, holding their gaze. "So, in effect, while the FBI has built a case against Mr. Spears, there are still elements of doubt—avenues of investigation that were never fully explored."

Marlowe was on her feet again, this time with more vehemence. "Objection, Your Honor. The defense is mischaracterizing the investigation."

The judge raised an eyebrow but motioned for Uriel to continue. "Overruled. Proceed."

Uriel nodded. "One last question, Agent Grainger. Based upon your experience with the bureau, wouldn't it be a fair statement to say that, more often than one might think, testimony from cooperating witnesses is relied upon by the FBI, many of whom have, themselves, been involved in criminal conduct?"

Grainger's face hardened. "Yes, this is standard practice in this type of investigation."

"And would you not agree with me that those types of witnesses, by their very nature, have an interest in testifying in a manner they perceive to be to their advantage—perhaps even at the expense of the truth?"

Marlowe sprang to her feet once more. "Objection! Speculative!"

Uriel did not await the judge's verdict. "Withdrawn," he told the jury coolly but firmly.

He sat down, leaving the seeds of doubt deep within the jury's minds. He would continue to chip away at the FBI's investigation credibility, and though it was by no means a victory, he knew by the looks on the various jurors' faces that he had given them food for thought.

With the adjournment of the court for the day, Uriel and Karen walked out to their office. There was a bit of a changed atmosphere in the air now; they had their footing back after that brutal first day.

Karen plopped down into the chair at her desk, blowing out a sigh of relief. "That was good, Uriel. Really good. You could see the jury starting to question things."

Uriel nodded but didn't let his guard down. "It's a beginning, but we're still light years from winning. The FBI will come at us even harder tomorrow."

Karen slumped back in her chair, a small smile returning to her lips. "But we made them think. That's what matters."

Uriel leaned over and looked at the whiteboard they had mapped out with their strategy for the rest of the trial. "Tomorrow, we press harder on the witnesses. We discredit their key informants; we will have a shot at flipping the narrative completely."

Karen nodded firmly, assured once more. "I'll resume checking their statements. We want to have every inconsistency, every lie they've uttered."

He smiled weakly, his mind already racing to day three. Today, they had survived, but another battle awaited them tomorrow. The perception of the jury was fragile, and the FBI would be ready, defending their case with all their might.

Back in the Public Defender's Office, Tom Reardon watched the trial coverage anew, with a sense of hope. He had just witnessed Uriel mount the kind of recovery that few lawyers could or would—making pointed attacks on an FBI investigation. It wasn't over yet, but Reardon remembered why he had believed in Uriel in the first place.

"Maybe he's got more fight in him than I thought," Reardon muttered, the corners of his lips tweaking upwards in a smile.

That night, Uriel and Karen watched the news as legal analysts examined the day's events.

"Day two of the Spears trial had an interesting twist, as Uriel Zander, the defense attorney, referred to several discrepancies in the investigation conducted by the FBI. He, at one point, questioned how thorough they really were into the inquiry."

"Greg, what did you think about Zander today?"

Greg Hamilton, a veteran defense attorney who anchored the previous broadcast, couldn't suppress a wry smile. "Zander did what he had to do," he said. "He shook the jury's faith in the FBI case, even if only just a little. And that's the key to winning a case like this. The FBI came in strong on day one, but Zander started chipping away at their foundation today."

Linda Monroe, a former prosecutor, nodded in agreement. "It's still uphill, but Zander showed today that he's not out of this yet. He has to continue to drive the narrative that Spears was coerced, and if he can discredit the FBI's witnesses, he may have a chance."

Uriel clicked

off the TV, leaned back in his chair, both satisfied and apprehensive. He had taken one step forward, but most of his struggles were still ahead.