May 25, 1991 – Harvard Law School, Langdell Library
The library lights reflected softly on the yellowed pages of the National Security Law textbook. Logan remained silent, his eyes scanning the paragraphs with the attention of someone who was reading not just for a test, but to understand the fabric of the country itself.
It was the end of the second semester of his sophomore year. Exams had ended two days ago. The campus was in a farewell mood: suitcases in the hallways, hurried hugs, waves through the dorm windows.
Thomas entered the library without saying anything. He sat down across from Logan, watching him with a half smile.
"I thought you had already left for Washington."
"Not until next week," Logan replied, slowly closing the book. "Dr. Rowe asked me to come in on June 1st. They renewed my contract as an aide."
Thomas didn't answer right away. He just nodded slowly.
"You're going to be missed here, man. Classes are quieter when you're around… or when you argue with the teachers."
Logan gave a quiet laugh.
"Don't exaggerate."
"I'm serious. It's like… your presence reminds us why we're here. You study like you're saving lives."
Logan was silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at Thomas sincerely.
"Maybe because… in a way, I am. Not now. But one day. I believe that."
Thomas smiled, this time with his eyes.
"I know."
May 27th – Thomas's Apartment, Cambridge
It was a rainy night. Logan finished packing his suitcase in silence. The simple black suitcase was meticulously folded. Folders, books, an extra suit, and his personal notebook. It was all he needed.
Thomas was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
— So... Washington again, huh?
Logan paused for a second, turned to him.
— It seems so. Dr. Rowe said she wants me to stay on as a direct assistant. She said my work last semester was "above average." Her words.
"She has good taste," Thomas replied. "You deserve it. Really."
Logan smiled, with an air of humility. Then he picked up a thick envelope from the desk and handed it to Thomas.
"This is for you to keep. Important documents, copies of recommendations, and... my letter of intent for senior year. In case anything happens to me or my data."
Thomas looked at the envelope, then at Logan.
"You act like you're going to a war zone, Logan."
"When you work in national security, even on the legal side, you never know. I prefer to be prepared."
Thomas put the envelope in his desk drawer.
"I know you have a purpose. And that's what drives you. But if at any moment you feel that it's not just duty that drives you… if it's fear, pressure, too much weight," he paused for a second, taking a deep breath, "…you call me. Anytime."
Logan stared at him. A heavy silence fell between them. It was more than friendship at that moment. It was a deep, almost fraternal connection.
"Thank you, Tom. For everything."
"Promise you'll come back at the end of the summer?"
"I promise."
May 30 – Back Bay Train Station, Boston
Logan's suitcase rolled smoothly across the marble floor of the station. He wore dark jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a leather jacket. The platform was filled with metallic sounds, distant voices, and the hiss of speakers.
Thomas followed him, holding a paper bag with two sandwiches and a bottle of water. "Emergency food for the train," he said, handing over the bag.
— You really are better than any other cabin crew — Logan said, picking up the bag with a genuine smile.
— Just don't forget to write. Or call. Even if it's once a week.
— I'll call. Whenever I can.
The two of them were silent for a few seconds. The train began to approach, the sound growing in the distance like a drumbeat.
— Thomas... — Logan began, his voice lower —... if I can finish my senior year with honors, and with another semester at the DOD, maybe I can apply straight to a permanent position in Washington.
— I've thought about it — Thomas said. — And if it's your path, I'll root for you. Even if... it means being far away.
The train arrived. The doors opened with a click.
Logan grabbed the handle of the suitcase, took a deep breath and looked at Thomas.
— See you soon?
— See you soon.
They hugged. Quick, firm. No extra words.
Logan got on the train. He found his window seat and sat down. As the train began to move, he looked out the window one last time. Thomas was still there, standing on the platform, a serene expression on his face.
And then Boston was behind him.
June 1 – Department of Defense Building, Washington D.C.
Logan walked through the metal detector and showed his identification. He was led through the hallways that were beginning to look familiar. The air conditioning was strong, the smell of coffee permeated the room.
Dr. Rowe was waiting for him in room 204-B.
"Logan Moore," she said, with a slight but respectful smile. "Welcome back."
"It's good to be back, Doctor."
She held out a manila envelope.
"Your new badge, authorized access. Level Two. Things have changed since your last visit. You will now have access to classified briefings and a space of your own in the analysis room. We will need your sharp mind more than ever."
Logan took the envelope with steady hands.
"I'm ready."
She nodded, studying him for a moment.
"You've grown. Not just in knowledge. But in your eyes. That's rare."
Logan kept his composure, but he felt something move inside his chest. A new cycle was beginning.
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