Chapter 44: The Opening Salvo
The courthouse filing office opened at eight-thirty. I was there at eight-fifteen with a messenger bag full of documents and the kind of nervous energy that came from knowing I was about to start something I couldn't stop.
The motion was forty-seven pages. Comprehensive. Aggressive. Designed to hurt.
I'd spent two days perfecting it after my conversation with Kessler, cross-referencing every citation, anticipating every objection, building arguments on top of arguments until the thing was a legal fortress. The core request was simple: expedited discovery of Meridian Industries' internal communications regarding Gerald Kessler's fraud report and subsequent termination.
But the execution was surgical.
I'd identified six specific categories of documents, each justified with case law showing their relevance to proving retaliation. I'd preempted the standard objections—overly broad, unduly burdensome, protected by privilege—with narrowly tailored language that made objecting look like obstruction. I'd included a timeline that made the retaliation pattern obvious even to someone skimming.
And I'd attached twenty-three pages of supporting exhibits, including excerpts from Meridian's own HR policy manual that required more thorough investigations than they'd conducted.
Mike Ross would read this and realize he'd underestimated me. Harvey would read it and be forced to devote resources. Jessica would see it and wonder if firing me had been a mistake.
That was the point.
The clerk looked up as I approached the window. "Morning. Filing?"
"Civil case. Kessler versus Meridian Industries. Motion for expedited discovery with supporting documentation."
I slid the papers through. She flipped through them, eyebrows rising at the page count.
"Forty-seven pages. That's thorough."
"The case requires it."
She stamped the documents, entered them in the system, handed me the filed copies. "You'll need these for service."
"I have a process server waiting outside."
"Efficient." She smiled. "Good luck."
I walked out with the filed copies, handed them to the process server—young guy, professional, already had Pearson Hardman's address. He'd deliver them within the hour.
The morning was cold, sharp, the kind of spring day that couldn't decide if winter was over. I stood on the courthouse steps, breathing the crisp air, feeling the weight of what I'd just initiated.
[ **System Notification: Strategic Action Complete** ]
Motion Filed: Kessler v. Meridian Industries Predicted Response Time: 5-7 business days Pearson Hardman Resource Allocation: Estimated 40-60 associate hours Harvey Specter Attention Level: Elevated
I dismissed the notification and headed toward the subway. I had a morning meeting with another Hardman client, something about a contract dispute that wouldn't require the System's help. Standard commercial work. Billable hours.
The subway was packed with morning commuters. I stood near the door, holding the overhead rail, thinking about Mike's face when he read the motion. He'd be thorough—Mike was smart, careful, detail-oriented. But he'd also be surprised. Last time we faced each other, I'd won through preparation and his overconfidence. This time he'd be prepared too.
That made it interesting.
My phone buzzed. Text from Jennifer Park: Heard you filed against Pearson Hardman this morning. Bold move for day eight.
I typed back: Someone has to go first.
Her response came fast: Just remember—you're Hardman's weapon. Weapons get used up.
I pocketed the phone. Jennifer wasn't wrong. But she also wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already calculated.
The morning meeting ran long. By the time I got back to Hardman & Associates, it was past noon. The office hummed with activity—associates on calls, paralegals moving between desks, the particular energy of a firm trying to prove itself.
My phone rang as I reached my office. Unknown number.
"Scott Roden."
"Heard you filed this morning." Louis Litt's voice, careful but amused. "Forty-seven pages. Harvey's already complaining about it."
"He's seen it?"
"Saw it twenty minutes ago. Mike brought it to him. Let's just say Harvey was...expressive in his feedback."
I smiled, sitting down at my desk. "What did he say?"
"Nothing I can repeat in polite company. But the general theme was that you're overcompensating for inadequate legal arguments with excessive documentation."
"And what do you think?"
Pause. "I think your motion is technically sound and strategically smart. The timeline section alone is going to give Meridian nightmares. But Harvey's not wrong that you're making this personal."
"Harvey made it personal when he dismissed me."
"Fair." Louis's voice dropped. "Look, I'm calling because I owe you. From when you saved me after I almost got you fired over that leak. This case is going to get ugly. Mike's good but he's green. Harvey's going to step in directly if he feels threatened. And Jessica..." He trailed off.
"Jessica what?"
"Jessica's watching. She doesn't like loose ends, and you're a loose end that's performing well at a rival firm. That makes her uncomfortable."
"Good."
"Scott—"
"Thanks for the warning, Louis. I appreciate it. But I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you just declared war on the most powerful firm in New York with a boss who's using you as a weapon in his personal vendetta."
"Then I'd better make sure I win."
Louis sighed. "Just...be careful. Harvey holds grudges. And he's better at the long game than people think."
We hung up. I sat back, processing the call. Louis was reaching out, maintaining our alliance despite the firm divide. That was either genuine friendship or strategic positioning. Probably both.
My office door opened. Hardman walked in, looking pleased.
"Pearson Hardman received your motion an hour ago. I've already gotten three calls from former colleagues asking what kind of pit bull I hired." He sat down across from me. "Harvey Specter is reportedly displeased."
"I aim to displease."
"Mission accomplished." Hardman leaned back. "Mike Ross is competent but inexperienced. He'll file a response, probably argue your requests are overbroad. The judge will split the difference, you'll get most of what you want. Standard discovery motion outcome."
"Unless Harvey takes over personally."
"He won't. Too small a case, too junior an associate. It would look like weakness if he had to step in to handle you." Hardman smiled. "Which means you have room to maneuver. Use it."
After he left, I pulled up the Kessler case file and started drafting my response to the inevitable objections. The System ran probability calculations in the background, but I barely needed them. I knew how Pearson Hardman would respond. I'd learned their playbook from the inside.
Around three, my phone buzzed again. Text from an unknown number: This is Mike. Got your motion. Pretty thorough. Want to grab coffee and discuss discovery informally before we waste everyone's time with motions?
I stared at the message. Mike was trying to be professional, collegial even. He thought we were two associates trying to resolve a case efficiently. He didn't understand that this wasn't about efficiency.
I typed back: Sorry, I don't do informal on active cases. See you in court.
His response: Seriously? We can probably find middle ground without burning client money on motion practice.
Read the motion carefully. All 47 pages. If you still think there's middle ground after that, have your senior partner call me.
I sent it before I could second-guess the harshness. This wasn't personal against Mike. But he needed to understand I wasn't playing friendly.
Twenty minutes later, my office phone rang. Internal line.
"Roden."
"Conference room. Now." Hardman's voice.
I walked down the hall, found Hardman on a call, speakerphone on. Harvey Specter's voice filled the room, cold and controlled.
"—excessive and designed to harass rather than genuinely seek discovery. My associate will be filing objections to every single request."
Hardman caught my eye, gestured for me to sit. "Harvey, I'm going to put you on speaker. Scott Roden just walked in."
Brief pause. "Roden."
"Harvey," I said.
"Your motion is bullshit. Forty-seven pages of overbroad requests that you know won't survive judicial review."
"Then object. Let Judge Chen decide."
"I will. And when she cuts your requests in half, you'll have wasted a month and accomplished nothing."
"Or she'll grant them and you'll have to explain to your client why you didn't settle before discovery exposed their retaliation pattern."
Silence on the other end. I could picture Harvey's face, that particular expression he got when someone surprised him.
"This is a simple wrongful termination case," Harvey said finally. "You're treating it like corporate espionage."
"This is a case about a company retaliating against an employee who reported fraud. I'm treating it like exactly what it is."
"We'll see you in court." The line went dead.
Hardman grinned. "That was Harvey Specter trying to intimidate you into backing down. You handled it well."
"He's not wrong that Judge Chen will probably reduce some of the requests."
"Doesn't matter. You've already won the first round." Hardman stood. "Harvey had to call personally instead of letting Mike handle it. That means you're a threat he's taking seriously. That's exactly what we want."
After he left, I sat in the empty conference room, thinking about Harvey's voice. Controlled but with an edge. Annoyed but not truly angry yet.
That would change.
My phone buzzed. Text from Donna: Harvey just yelled at Mike for twenty minutes about your motion. You really couldn't have kept it under thirty pages?
I smiled and typed back: Where's the fun in that?
You're enjoying this.
A little.
Be careful. Mike's not the enemy here.
I know. But he's in the way.
Dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Then: Just remember who you're really fighting. And why.
I pocketed the phone and headed back to my office. Outside my window, Manhattan stretched out in its usual chaos—millions of people fighting their own battles, most of them invisible to each other.
But this battle was about to become very visible.
Mike Ross would file his objections within a week. We'd have a conference with Judge Chen. She'd rule, we'd either get discovery or fight about it more. Standard litigation procedure.
But underneath the procedure was the real game. Harvey and me. Pearson Hardman and Hardman & Associates. The firm that forced me out versus the firm that took me in.
I opened my laptop and started drafting my reply brief to Mike's inevitable objections. Might as well get ahead of it.
The System hummed quietly, cataloging information, running calculations. But I barely needed it now. The strategy was clear. The path was set.
All I had to do was execute.
And make sure that when the smoke cleared, Gerald Kessler got his justice and I proved that dismissing me was Pearson Hardman's biggest mistake.
Everything else was just noise.
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