Chapter 51 – Pressure Lines
Monday, 8:47 a.m. – Department of Justice Building, Washington D.C.
The sky over the American capital was overcast, tinged with an almost metallic gray that seemed to foreshadow the nature of the upcoming meeting. A black SUV passed through the security checkpoint in front of the DOJ building, carrying two passengers in silence.
Jessica Pearson wore a tailored dark gray suit, her hair tied in an impeccable bun and her eyes hidden behind dark lenses. Beside her, Logan Moore kept his jaw slightly tense, his navy blue suit jacket buttoned up to the last button.
"Any expectations?" Jessica asked, without turning her head.
Logan kept his gaze out the window for a few seconds.
"They're going to try to intimidate us. Show that they have cards up their sleeves. Maybe they'll mention my previous career, try to destabilize me."
"And you're going to let them?"
"Not today."
Jessica gave a tight smile.
— That's why I brought you.
9:01 AM – Room 117-C – DOJ Basement
The room had no windows. It was a closed, concrete chamber with cold lighting and an oval table in the center. There were four chairs around it. A pitcher of water and four glasses. No adornments. No amenities beyond the bare essentials.
On the other side of the table, already seated, were the representatives of the federal government: Daniel Cole, Deputy Assistant Attorney General for National Security Affairs, and Margaret Finch, DOJ's Chief Counsel for Strategic Litigation. Both wore sober suits and had steady gazes, the kind of people trained to reveal no emotion, even under pressure.
Jessica and Logan sat side by side.
"Ms. Pearson, Dr. Moore," Daniel said, inclining his head slightly. "Thank you for agreeing to this informal conversation."
— Informal conversations are not usually convened by dual-headed DOJ and NSA memos, — Jessica replied, her tone professional and ironic. — But here we are. Let's move on.
Margaret leaned forward, interlacing her fingers on the table.
— Dr. Moore, your performance in the Grainger case caught our attention.
— That was the intention, — Logan replied calmly. — My client was being charged based on compromised evidence, by a system he himself served.
Daniel pressed his lips together.
— We are at an impasse. And we do not want to escalate this into a legal conflict involving the national intelligence structures.
— Neither do I. But I will not allow a civilian to be made the scapegoat for an institutional failure, either, — Logan said.
Jessica watched him carefully. He was calm, but there was something in his shoulders, a rigidity that betrayed how alert he was.
Margaret opened a folder.
— We have your record here, Dr. Moore. DOD training. TS/SCI clearance. Direct reports to SOCOM. You know the ropes. Including the limited liability channels.
Logan didn't answer right away. He picked up his water glass and took a sip, looking Margaret in the eye as he set it back down.
"And that's exactly why I'm aware of what can be revealed publicly without compromising national security. And what can't."
Daniel then leaned forward, changing his tone.
"You have a lot to lose. Your reputation, your network, your future. All of that could be affected if we follow through on this."
Jessica was quick.
"Is that a formal threat, Deputy Attorney General?"
"It's an observation," he replied coldly.
Logan then spoke slowly.
"You think you know me. But you've spent too long seeing me as a functionary file. You've never looked at the man who wrote those analyses. I've seen decisions destroy countries. I've seen words change the course of military operations. I know how the gears work. I know how things get hidden under layers of legality. And I know exactly how to dismantle them."
Margaret took a deep breath.
"What do you want?"
Logan sat back in his chair. His eyes were steady, unwavering.
"I want my client exonerated completely. No admission of guilt. No administrative sanctions. And an official letter, signed by both of you, acknowledging that the evidence was not obtained in a proper manner."
Jessica finished:
"And that happens before we file our petition with the judge in charge, who is waiting."
Daniel and Margaret exchanged a quick glance. No words were spoken, but something stirred in the silence.
"That sets a dangerous precedent," Margaret said finally.
"Yes. But less dangerous than the alternative," Logan countered. "A lawsuit with documented motions mentioning unauthorized data collection operations. A public hearing where journalists will start digging." And, of course, Congress, always eager for tech scandals involving the executive branch.
Jessica opened her folder, revealing copies of emails, memos, even a now-declassified DARPA internal audit report.
"We don't want war. But we're ready for it."
Daniel looked at the documents. Then at Logan.
"If we accept… this needs to be kept confidential.
"There will be no press conference. No statement. But the dismissal will be public. Period."
Margaret closed her eyes for a moment. Then she gathered the papers in front of her.
"Give us until Friday."
"You have until Thursday," Logan said, standing up.
11:12 AM – DOJ Lobby
They walked in silence through the cold hallways, side by side. When they stepped out the front door, the daylight seemed brighter than usual, even under the clouds.
Jessica took a deep breath and let out a short laugh, like someone feeling the tension slip through a crack.
"You were brilliant in there."
"I only told them what they needed to hear."
"And yet you faced two of the most powerful people in the department as if you were dealing with interns."
Logan looked at her.
"Because they're wrong. And they knew it."
Jessica nodded.
"Now we wait."
"What if they don't comply?"
"Then we go all in."
Pearson Hardman – Wednesday, 6:37 p.m.
Rachel knocked on Logan's office door and walked in with an envelope in her hand.
"It just arrived."
Logan opened it. Inside was an official letter from the DOJ, signed by Daniel Cole and Margaret Finch. The exoneration was clear, acknowledging a procedural defect and the lack of evidence to support the charge.
He read it silently. Then he handed the letter to Rachel.
She read it. She looked at him. And smiled.
"You did it."
Logan leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment.
"It wasn't for me."
Rachel shook her head, still smiling.
"It was for everyone who would never get this chance."
Chapter 52 – Echoes in Closed Rooms
Monday, 8:00 a.m. – Pearson Hardman, 51st Floor
The lobby of Pearson Hardman has always had an aura of solidity and perfection: dark wood paneled walls, polished marble reflecting the hurried footsteps of lawyers and receptionists, and an almost reverent silence, broken only by the subdued sound of keys being tapped or the steady footsteps heading toward yet another court battle.
But that morning, the atmosphere felt charged. Not with tension, exactly more with a kind of reverence mixed with curiosity. In the hallways, discreet whispers. In the conference rooms, glances were exchanged. Logan Moore's name was on everyone's lips, even when it wasn't mentioned directly.
And everyone knew why.
Grainger v. United States Government had started as a delicate legal issue. It ended with the DOJ issuing a historic reversal, dismissing very serious charges. And all thanks to the man who was now walking calmly down the main hallway, his navy suit jacket like armor.
Meeting Room A – 8:30 AM
Jessica Pearson closed the door to the room where the senior partners—Harvey Specter, Louis Litt, Dana Scott, and two managing partners—were gathered. She stood as she handed out copies of the DOJ memo.
"This isn't just a victory for the firm," Jessica said firmly. "It's a milestone. We took on the federal government in silence, dismantled their case line by line, and came away unscathed."
Louis shook his head as he read the document.
"They admitted error? Officially?"
"Diplomatically," Jessica replied. "Enough to exonerate the client and give us standing if we ever need to tell this story. But more important than that…"
She looked directly at Harvey.
"…Logan made this happen."
Harvey rested his chin on his crossed fingers, staring into space for a few seconds before speaking.
"I don't usually give compliments easily. But the guy's good."
Louis snorted.
"Good"? Harvey, the DOJ practically licked the floor to avoid ending up on the cover of the Washington Post."
Harvey looked at him with a half smile.
"Calm down, Litt. I still like to think I'm the best lawyer here."
"Maybe the best one who hasn't worked for the federal government in almost two decades," Louis countered.
Jessica intervened firmly.
"The important thing is that we now have something very clear. Logan Moore is not just an asset. He's a pillar. And his reputation will attract new clients especially those who walk between the public and the shadows."
Logan's Office – 9:12 AM
Rachel knocked lightly on the door before entering. She was holding two mugs of coffee.
"I brought backup. I thought you might need it."
Logan looked up from a stack of documents. He was organizing the final files on the Grainger case for filing.
"Thanks," he said, taking the mug with a slight smile.
Rachel sat down at the desk, watching him for a moment.
"You're being talked about all over the floors. You've become a legend overnight."
Logan arched an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean to. I prefer work to show."
Rachel smiled.
"Well, you might, but after what you've done… it's hard to avoid."
She paused and then said sincerely,
"I've learned more in the last two months from you than I did in a year of internship here."
Logan was visibly touched.
"That means a lot, Rachel. You're talented. You just need to keep your feet on the ground and an open mind. Law isn't just about technique. It's about context. It's about understanding what's at stake beyond the paper."
"That's what you did, right?" In the Grainger case.
"It wasn't just about him," Logan replied. "It was about precedent. About who would come next. If we don't defend the border now, it will retreat a little further every time."
Corridor 5C – 10:44 AM
As Logan walked to an internal meeting, he passed Donna and Harvey.
"Logan," Donna said, smiling. "Congratulations. The DOJ letter is already becoming a backroom story around here."
Logan just nodded gently.
"Thanks, Donna. I only did the right thing."
Harvey stopped beside him. They stood face to face for a second longer than usual.
"I have to admit… you played on a whole other level on this one."
"And you thought you couldn't do it?"
"I thought you were too used to government rules. But you've proven that you also know how to tear down structures… even the ones you built."
Logan gave a half smile.
— Sometimes you have to break down a wall to let the truth out.
Harvey nodded.
— If you ever want to work with me on a case... I'm available. Even if I'm too proud to ask for help the first time.
— Invitation noted.
Donna smiled at them both.
— Look at that, two alphas in harmony. Someone should take a picture.
Common Area – 1:05 PM
In one of the common areas where associates and interns usually took breaks, a small group was excitedly discussing the impact of the Logan's victory. Among them were Cameron, a young associate who had just been promoted, and Lena, a law school intern in her final semester.
"Did you see the copy of the DOJ letter?" Cameron asked. "They say he was the one who drafted the terms of the informal dismissal proposal."
"I heard he was a DOD interrogator," Lena said. "Imagine a legal mind combined with intelligence analysis…"
"And with TS/SCI access for 17 years," Cameron added. "The guy understands the system from the inside."
"And now he's on our side," Lena said, impressed.
Jessica's Office – 3:17 PM
Logan was called in for a brief chat with Jessica.
"Have a seat," she said, with a slight smile. "I just want to talk…no formalities today."
Logan complied, his shoulders relaxing.
"Is everything okay?"
"It's more than okay. I'm impressed. And, if I'm being honest, proud.
She pulled an envelope from the side of the table.
"This is an invitation to the ABA's annual dinner. And they want you to be the keynote speaker. Topic: "Law, National Security, and the Limits of Responsibility."
Logan stared at the envelope as if it were a living thing.
"You know I don't like to speak in public."
"But you have to. It's time for the legal world to know more than just rumors about you."
Logan thought for a few seconds.
"I accept. But not for me. For all those who don't have the same voice."
Jessica nodded.
"That's the answer I was hoping for."
End of work day – 7:42 p.m.
Logan looked out the window of his office. The Manhattan sky was orange, the buildings reflected the last light of day, and the streets below were filled with honking horns, people, and rushing.
Rachel went inside to deliver a finished document.
— Here's the report you asked for.
— Thank you, Rachel.
She hesitated before leaving.
— Logan… why didn't you ever want to be a partner here?
He turned around.
— Not yet. I need to make sure I'm where I want to be. Where I can make the right impact.
Rachel smiled.
— Well… you're already changing the office.
— Maybe. But it's just the beginning.
Chapter 53 – Voice in the Center of the Hall
Saturday, 8:03 p.m. – ABA Annual Dinner, Grand Ballroom at The Plaza Hotel, Manhattan
The ballroom at The Plaza was unrecognizable under the soft light of the crystal chandeliers. Chandeliers that, for decades, had witnessed veiled agreements, public promises, silent alliances. Every detail there from the wine-red carpet with gold arabesques to the polished silver cutlery made a point of reminding us that this was an evening for the elite of American law.
Logan arrived with Jessica at his side, both dressed with elegant sobriety. Jessica wore a classic black dress and discreet emerald earrings. Logan wore a tailored black tuxedo, his bow tie perfectly adjusted, his gaze steady and yet vaguely thoughtful.
As they walked toward the reserved table at the front of the stage, eyes followed them. Not only because of Jessica's magnetic presence known for her imposing posture—but because, next to her, was the man many had heard rumors about but few actually knew.
"They're watching," Jessica said with a slight smile.
"I'm used to it," Logan said, discreetly adjusting his shirt cuffs. "But usually it's from the other side of a one-way mirror."
Jessica let out a restrained laugh.
"Today the mirror is two-way. And you're going to do just fine."
8:30 p.m. – First speeches and introductions
The formal speeches began with the ABA president thanking the presence of prominent lawyers, federal judges, renowned academics, and leading prosecutors. Among them were names familiar to the public: members of the DOJ, judges of the Court of Appeals, and professors from Harvard and Yale.
— And now, for tonight's keynote address, we are honored to welcome a guest whose career needs no hyperbole, precisely because it was built in the shadow of secrecy, responsibility, and integrity.
A respectful silence fell over the room.
— Dr. Logan Moore. Former general counsel to the Department of Defense for nearly two decades, an expert in criminal law and national security. A man who has been at the center of decisions that have changed the course of this country's recent history — and who now offers us his voice and experience to reflect on the limits of law and ethics in uncertain times.
The name echoed in the room. Logan stood up slowly. He walked to the stage with measured steps. Jessica watched him from the table with silent attention and, perhaps, a certain pride.
8:38 p.m. — The Speech
Logan stood in front of the microphone. He took a deep breath. He looked at the faces in front of him all attentive, some skeptical, others genuinely curious.
— Good evening.
His voice was firm, but not overly so. Natural. Real.
— When I was invited to this dinner, I hesitated. My first reaction was to say "no." I have worked almost all my professional life in places where silence was the rule, and exposure was a risk. But I realized that perhaps precisely for that reason... I should speak out.
He paused briefly.
— For 17 years, I worked as a lawyer for the United States Department of Defense. I was behind operations that never made it to the press, legal debates that never made it into public opinions, and decisions that... still keep me awake at night.
The eyes in the room were fixed on him. A federal prosecutor from Washington stopped cutting his meat. A judge from the Second Circuit stopped drinking her wine.
— Tonight's theme is: "Law, National Security and the Limits of Responsibility." Three words that, when separated, are easy to explain. But when intertwined... they become an ethical labyrinth.
Logan took a step forward.
"Law should be the moral compass of society. But when that law enters the room with generals, politicians, and interests that cost billions… it runs the risk of being bent. Subdued. Rationalized. I've heard "It's legal, but it's not right" more times than I'd like to admit.
The silence in the room was absolute.
"I've had to approve, many times, extraterritorial operations that involved neutralizations. "Necessary," they said. "Proportional," they argued. And I had to analyze this with the coolness of a jurist, even as my heart screamed for more time. More investigation. More doubt."
He glanced to a corner of the room where a camera discreetly filmed the event.
"But doubt… it's a luxury that Homeland Security doesn't always allow."
A whisper passed among some listeners. Logan didn't back down.
— The limits of responsibility, for me, were tested the day an innocent civilian died because I approved an operation based on a flawed intelligence report. No one was prosecuted. No one was fired. Just a letter of condolence delivered by a diplomatic attaché in a village five thousand miles away.
Jessica watched him closely, her eyes slightly moist. She knew Logan had never had told no one, not even her.
"But I'm not here to indict institutions. I'm here to remind people that law is not neutral when it's practiced with courage. That we, lawyers, are the last guardians of the public conscience even when no one is looking."
He walked to the edge of the stage.
"If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that the truth is rarely convenient. And that responsibility begins when we stop asking, 'Can I do this?' and start asking, 'Should I?'"
Total silence. Some faces were emotional. Others were serious. But all were deeply impacted.
"Thank you."
9:10 p.m. – Applause and Reactions
The room erupted in applause. Long, dense. Not just polite but moved. People who had never heard of Logan Moore now knew exactly who he was. And what he stood for.
Jessica stood and welcomed him back to the table with a rare smile.
"You didn't speak. You gave yourself away. And that… no one here will ever forget."
"It wasn't about me," he replied, sitting back down and taking a sip of water. "It was about not letting history continue to be written without question."
A moment later, one of the Yale Law School professors approached their table.
"Dr. Moore, your speech… was uncomfortable in the best way. We need more voices like that. Have you ever thought about teaching?"
Logan smirked.
"I'm still getting my head around the idea of public speaking. But I appreciate it."
And he wasn't the only one. A judge from the Fifth Circuit, a former deputy secretary of DHS, two partners from giant law firms. They all gathered around. They all wanted to hear more of him.
10:47 p.m. – Outside porch of the ballroom
Logan was standing outside, enjoying the cooler air. The New York sky was smoggy, but still beautiful with its confusing lights.
Jessica joined him, glass of wine in hand.
"Do you want to know what everyone asked after you left the stage?"
"What?"
"Where has he been all this time?"
Logan laughed, tired but sincere.
"Working. And trying not to make more mistakes than the inevitable."
Jessica looked at him, the way only a mentor could look at someone they deeply respect.
"Today, you changed the way this world sees us. And it wasn't with a lawsuit. It was with the truth."
Logan took a deep breath, observing the night.
"Maybe now is the time to stop acting only behind the scenes."
"Do you think you're ready?"
He looked at her.
"I don't think I have the right to remain silent anymore."
Chapter 54 — Echoes of Inconvenient Truths
Sunday, 7:32 a.m. — Logan's Apartment, Manhattan
The gray New York sky seemed to reflect the gravity of the moment. Logan woke up early, as usual, but this time it wasn't the routine that got him out of bed it was the silence. A different silence. A silence full of return.
Dressed in a dark sweatshirt and a mug of coffee in his hands, he stood in front of the large window in the living room, watching the timid movement of the city waking up. The coffee table was covered with folded newspapers, the phone vibrated at almost rhythmic intervals, and on the laptop, dozens of unread emails. The speech from the night before had left those golden walls of The Plaza to reverberate in the most sensitive and sensible corners of the American legal system.
Logan sat down. He took a deep breath. And began to read.
8:05 AM – DOJ email, Subject: "Request for private contact"
"Dr. Moore, we have watched your speech. Some of us with mixed feelings. Others with deep reflection. We have requested a private meeting in the coming days, at a date to be determined, to discuss the content and implications of what was said. With respect, but with concern."
He read it twice. Then a third time. The signature was from a former colleague—now Deputy Assistant Secretary for National Security Policy.
8:18 AM – Email from a Georgetown Law professor
"Dear Dr. Moore, your speech yesterday inspired an unplanned discussion among my constitutional law students. I have never seen a group so engaged on a Sunday morning. I invite you to speak with us, if you would like. Any date, any topic."
8:26 AM – Multiple emails with similar subject lines:
"Congratulations on the speech. It is time to talk." – 9th Circuit Judge.
"We would like to propose a joint paper on legal liability in exceptional times." – The Yale Law Journal.
"Your speech has resonated with our committee. Please expect us to contact you." – Staff of the House Judiciary Committee.
"Would it be possible to discuss a consulting position at the Brookings Institution?"
Logan sighed. He stood up. He had known this was coming. Not exactly like this, but with this weight. It was like letting go of a rope after years of holding the mast of a capsized ship—now the ship was moving.
10:17 AM – Pearson Hardman, Jessica's Office
"Is he there?" Harvey asked, entering without knocking, as usual.
Jessica was sitting at her desk, eyes fixed on a notebook. She looked up, unsurprised.
"Not yet. But he should be here soon. Why?"
"Did you see the emails? The noise that speech caused?"
"Yes. And heard. My phone hasn't stopped ringing since eight this morning."
Harvey sat on the side couch, his tie a little loose.
"The DOJ is on high alert. One of the contacts I still have there said they want to 'control the narrative' before this gets too big."
Jessica calmly closed her notebook.
"That's what they always do, Harvey. Logan didn't release documents. He didn't compromise operations. He just told the truth that no one wants to say out loud."
Harvey nodded thoughtfully. Then he murmured,
"He's not your average lawyer."
"No. He's a rock in still water. And the water is getting rough."
11:12 a.m. – Logan's office at Pearson Hardman
Rachel was sitting at her computer, answering routine e-mails. When Logan walked in, she looked up immediately.
"Logan, have you seen the "
"The e-mails? Yes. And I heard five voicemails. One of them from a senator. He wants to call me to speak at a hearing."
"At Congress?"
"Yeah."
She swallowed hard. Then she laughed nervously.
"Are you... going to accept?"
"I haven't decided yet. But if I accept, it will be as a citizen, not as a spokesperson for the government or the firm."
Rachel leaned back in her chair, amazed.
"Do you realize the impact your speech had?"
"I do. And honestly, I expected some reaction. But not so coordinated. Some people are worried."
"And you?"
Logan looked at her with silent honesty.
"Worried? Always. But not about what I said. Rather about what they will try to distort from what was said."
2:37 p.m. – Meeting Room, Pearson Hardman
Jessica gathered the senior partners.
"As you may know, Logan's speech is being talked about in various circles—academic, political, legal."
Louis gestured anxiously as always.
"Yes, yes!" A professor at NYU texted me asking if Logan would be open to supervising dissertations on "legal ethics in the context of war." We're… becoming a constitutional law authority by association!
"And is that bad for you, Louis?"
"No! It's… weird. But good. And weird."
Harvey, who had been watching, interrupted.
"But we should remember that there are risks. The DOJ is not a fan of talkativeness."
"He didn't talk too much, Harvey," Jessica said firmly. "He talked enough. And we're not going to silence him. Much less isolate him."
Donna, from the doorway, added, "What Logan did was give dignity to profession that is always struggling with compromise and silence.
Jessica nodded.
—And that's why we're going to support you. As a firm. As partners. And as colleagues.
5:22 p.m. – Coffee shop on the corner of 6th Avenue
Logan met with an old colleague from Georgetown now a legal analyst who consulted for the government.
"They say you're going to be called to testify in public hearings," the man said, with an air of someone who knew more than he was letting on.
"Possibly. But I'll only go if the summons is honest. I'm not going to be a spectacle."
"They're going to try to control that. You've shaken up the narrative of "silent justice."
Logan took a sip of his espresso.
"Let them try. But if there's one thing I've learned… it's that when the truth is told clearly, it's impossible not to be heard. Even if they want to bury it."
10:06 p.m. – Georgetown Law, Room 301, student discussion
A group of sophomores were organizing an impromptu roundtable. On the screen, the video of Logan's speech at the ABA, discreetly captured and posted on internal forums.
"This man showed what advocacy with conscience is. There's no way to study law and remain inactive after hearing that," said a student.
"He talked about what no one talks about: the moral costs of technical decisions," added a colleague.
"We need to get him here. Even if it's via Zoom."
12:42 a.m. – Logan's Apartment
Back home, Logan stared at the ceiling. Lights off. The city outside vibrated under its own density.
His cell phone vibrated one last time before he put it on silent. It was a voicemail from a federal judge:
"Dr. Moore. Your speech reminded me why I went into law. Thank you."
He closed his eyes.
He took a breath.
And he thought, silently:
Now, there is no turning back. But maybe... there never should have been.
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