Chapter 33 – Who's That Guy?
Pearson Hardman – Manhattan, NY – 9:47 AM – January 2011
The winter sky cast a pale light through the mirrored windows of the 44th floor. The city below seemed small, silent, as if holding its breath. Inside the imposing building, lawyers hurried through the white marble corridors, briefcases in hand, cell phones glued to their ears, decisions being made with every step.
In the midst of this flow, a man was getting on the restricted-access elevator with a temporary badge pinned to the lapel of his dark gray suit jacket. Logan Moore, now 39 years old, with well-cut hair, a clean-shaven beard, and a look that mixed security with constant vigilance. His eyes were always alert, even when they smiled.
"Good morning, Mr. Moore," said the receptionist on the 44th floor, a little nervous, as she watched him exit the elevator.
"Good morning. Is Miss Pearson expecting me?"
"Yes, of course." Her office is free.
Logan nodded and walked steadily down the carpeted hallway. His body seemed not entirely corporate. There was a rigidity about him the posture of someone trained to observe and remember. The kind of man who would make any security guard reconsider his protocols. Discreet, but impossible to ignore.
Jessica Pearson's Office – 9:50 AM
Jessica was finishing reviewing a memo when the door softly opened.
"Logan," she said, looking up with a slight smile, "punctual as always."
"You know I hate being late."
He walked in and closed the door behind him.
Jessica stood, walking around the desk to the side couch.
"We can talk here. Did you bring the documents?"
"Sure." Logan handed over a brown folder marked CONFIDENTIAL. "I reviewed the depositions in the Walsh case. There are inconsistencies in the communications logs from headquarters." The defendant could claim a failure of superior supervision. If he's smart, he'll use that as a basis for an acquittal on the grounds of procedural error.
Jessica leafed through the documents as Logan explained in surgical detail.
"Do you believe it was a genuine error or an intentional one?"
"Intentional, but poorly executed. If it had been planned more carefully, they would never have left the logs exposed. It shows a lack of sophistication—but a clear intent to obstruct."
"What about the prosecutor?"
"He'll push for a plea deal. But you can turn the tables if you expose the internal failure as a systemic problem, not an individual one. That shifts the blame away from your client."
Jessica nodded thoughtfully. Her mind was already spinning fast, fitting pieces together on the board.
"You're a secret weapon, Logan."
He only smiled slightly.
"I'm just doing my job."
Jessica was silent for a moment. Then she walked over to the window.
"I wish I could hire you full-time."
— You know that's not going to happen.
— Yet.
He smirked but didn't answer. He grabbed his overcoat hanging on the chair and started to say goodbye.
— I'll need to get back to the DOD office. They sent an urgent dossier over the secure line.
— Keep me updated on this case. The client is nervous, and rightly so.
— Always.
And with that, he left.
Minutes later – Jessica Pearson's office – 10:05 a.m.
The door opened unceremoniously. Harvey Specter walked in with his tailored suit and a questioning look. Behind him was Donna Paulsen, impeccable as always.
"Jessica," Harvey said, "why is a guy with the bearing of a CIA officer leaving your office with a folder marked 'confidential'? He didn't even stop to flirt with the receptionist."
"And he was wearing a military watch and armored leather shoes," Donna added, leaning against the wall. — That man is definitely not just a lawyer.
Jessica smiled, crossing her arms.
— You two are worse than my investigative team.
Harvey sat down on the couch, pointing with his chin towards the door.
— Who is the guy?
— Someone who is not on our records.
— And why?
— Because he doesn't officially work here. — Jessica approached them. — But he helps. When I let him.
— That's not an answer.
Jessica took a deep breath.
— His name is Logan Moore. He's worked for the US Department of Defense for almost two decades, focusing on Criminal Law and National Security. He's a lawyer, yes. Harvard. With more than one degree. But he's also the kind of man who writes opinions that change homeland security policies. He has TS/SCI clearance and works inside a SCIF in New York.
Donna's eyes widened.
— He's a walking fortress.
— He's discreet, precise, ethical... and he helps this office when things get out of hand.
Harvey sat back, thoughtful.
— And why now?
— The Walsh case. He analyzed chain of custody failures and found inconsistencies that even our team didn't notice. In 36 hours.
— That's scary.
— That's Logan Moore.
Harvey stared at Jessica.
— And you want him to work with us more often?
— If it's up to me, yes. But it all depends on his superiors in the DOD. He's loyal. Strict. And he doesn't sell out.
Donna approached the table and rested her hands.
"Do you trust him?"
Jessica didn't hesitate.
"With my life."
Harvey nodded slowly.
"Then I think I'll want to meet him."
Jessica smiled.
"One day. Maybe. So far, you haven't seen anything. Got it?"
Donna answered first, with a small smile.
"Absolute confidentiality."
Harvey stood up, straightening his jacket.
"But if he shows up here again... I want five minutes with him."
"Logan doesn't play games, Harvey."
"Neither do I."
Jessica laughed as they left the room.
Brooklyn Heights – Logan's Apartment – 11:41 PM
The light from the lamp illuminated the open folder on the dining table. Logan read the Pearson Hardman client's report. The connection to a foreign fund could indicate money laundering… but the documents were too clean. Too clean.
He wrote in blue ink:
Possible document falsification. Incompatibility with the internal tax system.
Then he closed the folder, put everything in a padlocked box, and locked it with the key he wore around his neck. That was enough for today.
His phone vibrated. A short message from Jessica:
"Your analysis was brilliant. I owe you a glass of wine."
Logan replied:
"Save it for when the case is closed. Until then, confidentiality."
Chapter 34 — Gray Zone
U.S. Department of Defense – Washington, D.C.
May 3, 2011 – 8:12 a.m.
The day dawned overcast and humid. A fine mist crept across the streets of Washington, as if the city reflected the weight of recent decisions. Inside the Pentagon, the atmosphere was one of constant activity, but with a more subdued tone than usual. Everyone knew—or at least suspected—that something huge had just happened.
Logan walked through the hallways with his leather briefcase tightly closed. He had spent the last week between security briefings, encrypted calls, and legal reviews of documents that would never be made public.
Beside him, Dr. Rowe, the DOD's senior advisor for national security law, kept her face calm and her posture erect. She was known for never letting herself get worked up but even she seemed more introspective that morning.
"He's dead," she said, finally breaking the silence as they entered the soundproofed conference room.
"Yes," Logan replied, pulling the documents from the folder. "But the trouble starts now."
SCIF Room – Level 3 – Pentagon
08:24
In the center of the room was an oval table with six chairs. Monitors displayed maps of the Abbottabad area, satellite overlays, and thermal images of the operation. One screen displayed the mission timeline with surgical precision: infiltration, visual confirmation, engagement, extraction.
Logan sat down, opening the main file on the encrypted laptop. The title flashed in red letters:
OPNS: NEPTUNE SPEAR – POST-MISSION LEGAL RISK ASSESSMENT
Dr. Rowe put on her reading glasses and crossed her legs.
"They didn't have Pakistani authorization. They came in with DEVGRU, silent helicopters, flying over active military bases." If Islamabad decides to make a fuss, we'll have a diplomatic firestorm," she said.
"Or a proxy war," Logan added.
"We need to build a legal defense. Something solid, based on international law, but that protects the U.S. position without admitting guilt."
Logan nodded and began typing. He had already reviewed the precedents—including the Entebbe case in 1976 and similar Israeli operations. But this was a more delicate scenario. The United States had violated the sovereignty of a nominal ally to execute a high-priority target. It was morally defensible. Legally? Much less so.
09:02 – Access to Classified Document Level TS/SCI
With his clearance now renewed, Logan accessed the official documents of JSOC and the CIA. The memos contained mission details, transcribed recordings, and messages exchanged between the top echelons of intelligence and the White House.
"Look at this," Logan said, turning the monitor toward Rowe. "We have an internal memo from Central Command warning of the possibility of Pakistani retaliation. They already knew the consequences."
Rowe read it quickly, his sharp eyes absorbing every word. "We will base our defense on the principle of self-defense under sustained threat. The UN recognizes this principle when the cooperation of the sovereign state involved cannot be counted on."
Logan continued: "And also on Pakistan's willful inaction. They knew bin Laden was there or they were incompetent. In either case, we have forfeited the right to rely on their cooperation."
"Excellent. You put that in the report."
He nodded, his fingers gliding over the keyboard. Logan had written more tense memos before, but this one carried personal weight. Bin Laden was responsible for 9/11. The attack had changed the direction of his career. Having the chance to contribute to ending that cycle…it was more than just work.
11:18 AM – Videoconference with White House Aides
The videoconference screen lit up, revealing tense faces. On the other side were representatives of the National Security Council, two State Department lawyers, and an adviser to the president.
"Dr. Rowe, Dr. Moore," began a gray-haired man in a navy tie, "we need a statement for the State Department. Something that can be used as an official line if Pakistan tries to formally charge us."
"We're already drafting it," Rowe replied. "Dr. Moore is leading the drafting."
Logan took a deep breath.
"Gentlemen, the basis of our defense will be the application of Article 51 of the UN Charter, which recognizes the right to individual self-defense. Bin Laden's presence on Pakistani soil poses a continuing threat to U.S. national security."
"But how do we justify not communicating?"
"The Pakistani ISI's history of leaking and collaborating with terrorist cells precludes any joint operation." We have sufficient documentation to show that formal cooperation could jeopardize the mission.
— What about the political implications?
— It's not our business — Rowe said. — We prepared the legal groundwork. The speech, the diplomacy, is up to you.
2:35 p.m. – Opinion Drafting Room
Logan closed the first draft of the legal memo. 27 pages. Reviewed, cited, with international case law and language consistent with White House guidelines. The cover read:
"Legal Defense of American Sovereignty Under Transnational Threat"
Classification: Top Secret / SCI – Eyes Only
Rowe read the first few pages. There was a subtle gleam in her eyes.
"You've exceeded even my expectations."
"Is that good or bad?"
"It means that if I ever leave the DOD, you'll take my place."
Logan gave a half smile.
"I prefer to stay behind the scenes."
She stared at him for a second longer than necessary.
"I know." 8:09 PM – Arlington Hotel Room
Back in his room, Logan sat in the armchair by the window. The view was of the Memorial Bridge, the city lights reflecting off the Potomac. He turned on his secure cell phone and saw a message from Thomas:
"I saw it on TV. You guys must be on fire. Stay safe. Call me when you can."
He typed slowly:
"It's been a long day. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'm fine."
He put the phone away, took a deep breath, and looked up at the ceiling.
"Another day in the gray zone," he thought.
Chapter 35 – The Man Everyone Watches
Pearson Hardman – Manhattan, New York
May 8, 2011 – 9:47 a.m.
The brushed steel elevator ascended silently, reflecting the morning glow that filtered through the large windows of Pearson Hardman's executive floor. The hallways of the firm were already alive with the rush of interns, associates, and attorneys, even though it was still relatively early.
Harvey Specter walked with his usual confidence toward the main conference room. Beside him, Mike Ross held a folder with notes on a corporate fraud case, trying to keep up with his mentor.
"So you think they'll try to settle before the hearing?" Mike asked, quickening his pace.
"I know they will," Harvey replied, not even looking at him. "They're just waiting to see if we call their bluff. And we won't."
As they turned the corner, the two noticed movement in front of senior partner Jessica Pearson's office. Donna stood by the glass door, chatting with Rachel Zane, who was holding a mug of coffee. But what caught everyone's attention was the tall man in a tailored dark gray suit and discreet sunglasses, walking calmly toward Jessica's office.
"Who's that guy?" Mike asked, frowning.
Rachel was watching with interest, too. The man had a quiet, unflappable presence, the kind of energy that makes itself felt even when no one says a word.
"Logan Moore," Donna said, her tone a mix of respect and quiet admiration.
"Logan Moore?" Rachel repeated. "Is he a lawyer?"
"Dr. Logan Moore," Harvey corrected, stopping in his tracks and putting one hand in his pocket. "He's… more than that."
Senior Partner's Office – 9:49 AM
Jessica stood up immediately when she saw Logan enter.
"Dr. Moore," she said, smiling slightly. — It's good to see you again. Come in.
Logan shook her hand firmly and politely.
— Jessica, always a pleasure.
— Have a seat. Would you like some water? Coffee?
— Just a glass of water, please.
Jessica pressed a button on the intercom and asked her assistant to bring water. Logan set his briefcase down next to the leather chair, his gaze calm but attentive, scanning the room with precision. There were few who could intimidate Jessica Pearson Logan was one of them, though not because of arrogance, but because of the depth of everything he carried.
Outside – 09:52
Mike, Rachel, Harvey and Donna moved away from the door, but still kept their tones low.
"Okay, you're just kidding me," Mike said, looking from one to the other. "Who exactly is this guy?"
Donna crossed her arms and looked at Harvey, who shrugged with that classic half smile.
— Logan is a Harvard-educated lawyer, of course. But not just any lawyer.
"He works for the government," Donna said. "Department of Defense, to be exact."
"Wait," Rachel said. "Like… military?"
"No. Civilian," Harvey said. "But with a security clearance that even the FBI would ask for permission before asking his name."
Mike blinked.
"Is that real?"
"He has TS/SCI clearance," Donna continued, a glint in her eye. "He deals with covert operations, national security… stuff most of us only see in movies."
"So what's he doing here?" Rachel asked.
Harvey leaned his shoulder against the wall.
"He's one of Jessica's consultants. When a case involves sensitive criminal law or crosses over into federal security issues, she calls him in."
"Does he really work here?"
"Not officially. He has his own office," Donna said. "In New York." But his base is the DOD.
Mike was clearly impressed.
"And he seems... so calm."
"He's already analyzed the actions of JSOC, SOCOM, CIA, NSA," Donna said, her voice low. "Do you think a corporate fraud trial is going to shake someone like that?"
Inside the room – 10:08
Jessica handed Logan a file with information about a new Pearson Hardman client. An executive accused of indirectly collaborating with terrorist activities through donations to suspicious NGOs.
"This could escalate quickly," Logan said, analyzing the documents carefully. "There's a chance this company's name will fall into the hands of the media."
"We need to prevent that. The client wants the situation resolved with as little exposure as possible."
Logan turned one of the pages, making meticulous notes with a Montblanc pen.
"I can review the bank records against the DOD databases, of course, confidentially. But I'll need authorization."
"It's in the system, stamped "Special Consult." The DOD has authorized your advisory role on this case."
He nodded.
"Then let's get started."
Hallway – 10:32 AM
Logan left Jessica's office and walked discreetly down the halls back to the elevator. Harvey watched him from afar.
"Have you spoken to him yet?" Mike asked.
Harvey smiled slightly.
"Once. At in a complicated criminal hearing. I needed someone to review a national security breach. He did it in 24 hours. The federal judge accepted the ruling as if it were a Supreme Court ruling.
"Is he like the James Bond of law?" Mike asked, a little skeptical.
"No," Harvey said. "James Bond is too loud. Logan is more…Jason Bourne with a Harvard degree and a Parker pen."
Donna laughed.
"He's so calm that it's scary. And he never…he never talks too much. But when he does? People listen."
Rachel glanced down the hall, where Logan was getting into the elevator. The man hadn't even noticed the stares or if he had, he didn't show it.
"He looks lonely," she said.
"Maybe he is," Donna said, almost softly. "But some types of missions don't allow for company."
Elevator – 10:34
Inside the elevator, Logan closed his briefcase, looked at his reflection in the metal mirror and adjusted the collar of his shirt.
The encrypted phone vibrated in his suit pocket. A notification from Dr. Rowe.
"Called for document review in Washington. Departure: tomorrow."
He sighed, already accustomed to life between cities, confidential cases and the weight of carrying responsibilities invisible to the eyes of most.
But there, at that moment, he was just a man among mirrors and steel part of a world that barely touched the world of others, but influenced everything around it.
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