April 30, 2014 – Wednesday – 7:18 AM
Pearson Hardman – Logan Moore's Office
The weather in New York was muggy for late April, but in Logan Moore's office, the air conditioning kept the temperature cool just the way he liked it when he had to make decisions that could change his life or destroy careers.
On his desk, printed and proofread three times, was the Petition for Formal Complaint of Unlawful Executions under Government Contract by a Private Agency (Atlas Guardian Case).
Logan took a deep breath. No mistakes. No assumptions. Just facts, evidence, dates, technical records, and legal implications meticulously stitched together.
Rachel walked in. She closed the door.
"Are you really decided?"
Logan looked at her with the calm of someone who already knew there was no turning back.
"Yes. It's now or never."
She placed a small, encrypted flash drive on the desk.
"Here's the copy for the DOJ, with the classified attachments. And the Atlas communications records linking the codename "DELTA-9" to a lawsuit filed on behalf of a sub-directorate within the Department of Defense."
Logan nodded.
"And the whistleblower?"
"He agreed to meet with you. He wants to talk before you file a complaint. He's scared. He says he's received threats in the last two days."
Logan picked up the phone. He called Jessica.
"Time to activate the firm's internal security protocol. Let's protect this man."
8:45 AM – Underground Parking – Classified Address in Tribeca
Logan parked the car and got out alone. The man was already waiting for him: young, no older than 32, a former Atlas IT employee, with a paranoid look in his eyes and a thin build, as if he'd lost weight on the run.
"Logan Moore?" he asked, without greeting.
"Are you Nolan…?"
"Just call me 'A.' Here, no names."
Logan complied.
"Are you safe?"
"Since yesterday? No. I received two envelopes in the mailbox: one with photos of me on the street. Another with the phrase 'keep quiet and no one else gets hurt.'"
"Do they know you talked to me?"
"They know someone talked to you. And they're betting it's me."
Logan placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I'll protect you. Personally."
The man hesitated. Then he handed over a second flash drive.
"This... is what will blow everything up."
11:10 AM – Office of Attorney General Mariana Wells – DOJ
Logan stood before Mariana. On her desk, the complete dossier.
"Do you realize what you're handing over here?" she asked, with a mixture of shock and admiration.
"I do. And I'm not asking for anything else. I'm notifying you."
"You just filed a complaint against parts of the Department of Defense, the State Department, unnamed intelligence agents, and a Forbes-listed company with contracts in over 15 countries."
"And all based on solid evidence, a chain of custody of documents, and a key witness who is under protection."
She was silent for a moment. Then she said:
"Logan... this could change how we hire private security in this country. And it could also end your career, your reputation, and excuse my frankness your life."
Logan nodded calmly.
"I always knew standing up for the truth would cost. I just didn't know it would be this high. But still... I'll pay it."
2:30 PM – The New York Times Newsroom (Investigative Section)
Logan met with investigative journalist Maya Legrand, on the condition of an off-the-record meeting.
"I won't publish anything without your permission," she said. "But what you showed me is bigger than anything I've seen since the Snowden case."
"What's here is what no one wanted to see. Because it's convenient for the dirt to be on the company that pretends not to answer to anyone."
"The government will deny it."
"I hope they do. Because then I'll show them the documents."
"What if they publicly attack you?"
Logan took a sip of coffee.
"Then I'll know I hit the nail on the head."
6:40 PM – Pearson Hardman – Strategy Room
Harvey, Jessica, Rachel, and Donna were meeting with Logan.
"The DOJ acknowledged receipt of the complaint," Logan said. "And they're opening a preliminary investigation."
Jessica asked:
"And the DOD?"
"Silence. Total."
Harvey looked at him.
"That's the most dangerous part. They're organizing in silence." I bet in the next 48 hours they'll try to discredit everything.
Rachel, worried, added:
"Or try to silence you."
Logan replied:
"That's why I need you to put the firm's maximum protection protocol into action. I want A. protected 24 hours a day. Own transportation. Secure location. And no digital trail."
Jessica nodded.
"It will be done."
Harvey stood.
"And you? Are you going to keep walking alone?"
"I don't walk alone, Harvey. I walk with the truth."
9:15 PM – Logan's Apartment
The night was silent. But he knew the world outside was boiling.
His phone vibrated in short intervals: emails, alerts, encrypted messages from former DOD colleagues. Some with warnings. Others with veiled threats.
"Logan, stop before the things get personal."
"You're in the territory of people who know how to disappear people."
"You were respected. Now you're becoming a problem."
He read it. He fell silent.
He went to the safe. He removed his Glock. He checked the magazine. He replaced it.
Then he took out a small flash drive.
It was the "fail-safe": an encrypted document with everything he had, programmed to be automatically sent to the press and Congress if he didn't check in on the secure server within 72 hours.
Logan tucked it under his shirt, in a concealed holster.
He turned on the voice recorder.
"Protocol initiated. If you're listening to this, the complaint is active. And the truth… is coming."
He closed the recorder.
He leaned back in his chair.
And waited for tomorrow.
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