The Legacy of Shadows. William Speir

you for coming, my friend.” Sergei kept his hands in his pockets.

      “You said it was urgent.”

      Sergei nodded and gestured with his chin for the two men to walk around to the other side of the monument. “It is. We’ve had a breach.”

      Markus didn’t look at the Russian. “What kind of breach?”

      “Someone stole the activation codes for our sleeper agents in North America.”

      Markus’ foot caught on a cracked part of the sidewalk, and he stumbled slightly. “So your country still uses sleeper agents? Why?”

      Sergei coughed. “Really? That’s what you want to ask me right now? It doesn’t matter whether we still use them or not. The problem is that someone stole the activation codes for our agents. Why would they do that unless they planned to use them for some reason?”

      “And it’s only the activation codes for the agents in North America?” Markus asked. “What about the activation codes for your agents in other countries?”

      “What agents in other countries?” Sergei asked blandly.

      Markus looked sharply at Sergei. “And you’re certain that this was a real breach and not an attempt by your country’s security bureaus to initiate something without it looking like they’re behind it?”

      “I forgot what a suspicious nature you have,” Sergei commented.

      “Just answer the question, please.”

      “I’m reasonably certain,” Sergei assured him.

      “Can you notify your agents not to follow any attempts to activate them?”

      Sergei stopped walking, as if to admire the monument. “I wish we could. Whoever stole the codes also deleted them from our systems. That’s how we discovered the breach. We no longer know who the agents are, where they’re located, or how to reach them.”

      “Aren’t there backups of that information?” Markus was shocked that Russia’s cyber protection procedures could be so lax.

      “The backups were also deleted. Whoever stole the codes knew our cyber procedures inside and out. The thief used a portable EMP device to wipe out our servers and drives, and when we restored the system from the backups, we discovered that every file related to our active North American sleepers was missing.”

      Markus nodded. Electromagnetic Pulse, or EMP, devices could destroy electronic equipment in a matter of seconds and leave no trace of what data had been stolen or compromised. “This took a lot of planning to pull off.”

      “Potentially years,” Sergei acknowledged as he started walking along the sidewalk again.

      “How many sleeper agents are we talking about?” Markus asked.

      “I don’t have the exact number, but it’s in the hundreds. Perhaps thousands. The program has been in place for decades, but starting with the fall of the Soviet Union, the number of sleeper agents in North America increased dramatically. It was so much easier to place them, because the Americans cut funding to their counterespionage programs after the communist threat was removed. Everyone became so focused on the Middle East that no one noticed our agents calmly walking into their country and settling down – just waiting to be activated. Most activations were for specific missions, like assassinations and information gathering. But if someone were able to activate all of the agents at the same time and direct them toward a single objective, it could destabilize a country in a matter of days. And our agents would never even know that we weren’t the ones who activated them. The sleeper protocols would keep them from confirming their orders with anyone from our embassies or security bureaus. They’d just carry out their instructions as if they were acting on our orders.”

      Markus was stunned at the implications of what Sergei had just told him. “Any ideas about who stole the codes or what they’re planning?”

      “None. Our security bureaus are working furiously to find that out before our government is forced to notify the Americans about what has happened. As you can imagine, no one in the government wants to admit openly that the sleeper program is still active, let alone that we’ve lost all control over our agents.”

      “Has there been any chatter about major shifts in foreign policy or military build ups among countries that could have commissioned the breach?”

      As Sergei turned to walk back the way they had come, he slipped a small flash drive into Markus’ coat pocket. “All we have is on that drive. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

      Two policemen walked past the entrance into the gardens, but Markus and Sergei continued walking calmly toward them, making certain not to appear to be doing anything unusual.

      “You’d better go, my friend,” Sergei said once the policemen had disappeared from sight. “If I hear anything more that could be helpful, I’ll let you know.”

      “Be safe, Sergei,” Markus said as Sergei turned left and walked toward a different exit from the gardens.

      “You, too.”

      Patrick Mills, the Order’s Chief Intelligence Officer and Intelligence Analysis Committee Chairman, sat in Grand Magistry conference room at the Headquarters Commandery with members of his team, meeting with representatives from Commanderies around North America and Europe. Markus Dittrich had just finished presenting the information that he had learned from Sergei.

      “Are you certain that this information is correct?” Patrick was deeply concerned about what Markus had shared.

      “I’m afraid so,” Markus stated. “The intel that my contact in Russia provided points to the same conclusion: Someone is about to activate a significant number of sleeper agents in America, but who and for what purpose is still unknown. One thing seems certain, though. Russia doesn’t appear to be behind this, even though the agents are all Russian.”

      “Why do you believe that?” Patrick asked.

      “Because the Russian government appears to be doing all they can to keep anyone from finding out about the breach. I doubt anyone in the U.S. intelligence community knows about it yet. The only reason the Order knows is because my contact felt he needed to tell someone, and I’m the only person he trusts.”

      Patrick shook his head in disbelief. Sleeper agents were foreign operatives sent to another country, where they waited for years – even decades – before being activated for their mission. Sleepers were embedded so deeply into their local communities that no one would ever suspect them of being foreign operatives ordered to act only when the prearranged signal was given.

      Most sleeper missions involved acts of espionage or assassination, but they had rarely been used to destabilize a country while whoever activated the sleeper agents capitalized on the resulting confusion with political or military moves of its own. And Patrick had never heard of one country activating the sleeper agents of another country. The implications were terrifying.

      “And your contact in Russia has no idea what the target or targets will be?”

      “No, sir,” Markus replied.

      “How do you want to proceed?” the representative from Chicago asked.

      “We need to identify who is going to activate the sleepers and why, and we need to identify who the sleepers are and what their targets are,” Patrick replied. “In the meantime, I’ll alert the Grand Magistry and our contacts in the U.S. intelligence community. The more people working on this, the better.”

      Later that afternoon, Patrick met with Alasdair Stirling, the new Grand Master of the Order who replaced Jamie’s father, Thomas “Tom” Campbell Anderson, when Tom retired from the position a year earlier.

      Alasdair finished reading Patrick’s report and looked up at him from across the desk in the Grand Master’s office. “How many sleepers do you think are about to be activated?”

      “No