Sector 1: The Ghost Breach

December 8, 1941

Washington, D.C.

The city had not slept.

It couldn't.

The radio reports from Hawaii had spread across the country like wildfire. Every newspaper carried the same impossible headline. Every conversation seemed to begin with the same two words.

Pearl Harbor.

Jonathan Swifter stood silently outside the War Department building, watching men and women rush through the front entrance carrying stacks of classified documents. Military trucks rumbled through the streets as soldiers hurried from one destination to another. America was mobilizing.

Yesterday had changed the world.

A young lieutenant nearly collided with him.

"Sorry, sir."

Jonathan gave a small nod.

"No harm done."

A secretary stepped through the front doors.

"Mr. Swifter?"

"Yes?"

"The President will see you now."

Jonathan straightened his coat and followed her down the corridor.

---

The Oval Office was quieter than he expected.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt sat behind the Resolute Desk, a folder open before him. He closed it as Jonathan entered.

"Mr. Swifter."

"Mr. President."

Roosevelt motioned toward the chair opposite him.

"Please, have a seat."

Jonathan remained standing.

"If it's all the same to you, sir...I'd rather stand."

The President smiled.

"I had a feeling you would."

For several moments neither man spoke.

Finally Roosevelt broke the silence.

"I've read every proposal you've submitted over the last three years."

Jonathan nodded.

"Then you've read a great deal."

"I have."

The President folded his hands.

"You believe America has a weakness."

"We do."

"And what is it?"

Jonathan walked toward the large wall map.

"When an enemy attacks..."

He pointed toward the Pacific.

"...we respond."

"When another nation threatens our allies..."

His finger moved across Europe.

"...we respond."

"When a crisis reaches our shores..."

He turned back toward the President.

"...we respond."

A long pause.

"What we rarely do..."

"...is prevent."

Roosevelt studied him carefully.

"You believe yesterday could have been prevented."

Jonathan chose his words carefully.

"I believe pieces of it were known."

The President remained silent.

"Not enough to stop it outright."

"But enough that someone should have asked more questions."

He glanced toward the folder on Roosevelt's desk.

"And those questions never reached the people who needed to hear them."

Roosevelt slowly nodded.

"So you're asking me to create another intelligence agency."

Jonathan shook his head.

"No, sir."

"What, then?"

"Something much smaller."

The President raised an eyebrow.

"Smaller?"

"The larger an organization becomes..."

"...the easier it is to find."

"And if everyone knows it exists..."

Jonathan met Roosevelt's eyes.

"...it has already failed."

Silence filled the room.

Roosevelt opened the folder once more and slid a single document across the desk.

"We received this approximately ten minutes before the attack."

Jonathan lowered his eyes.

A single codename appeared at the top of the report.

Bishop One

He looked back up.

"Did anyone believe it?"

Roosevelt's expression hardened.

"No."

Another long silence settled over the room.

Finally the President asked,

"If I gave you what you're asking for...how many people?"

Jonathan didn't hesitate.

"One hundred."

Roosevelt leaned back.

"Only one hundred?"

"One hundred extraordinary people can accomplish what thousands cannot."

The President smiled faintly.

"You've thought about this for a long time."

"For years."

Roosevelt picked up his fountain pen.

He signed the authorization.

He placed the pen carefully back on his desk.

Then he looked at Jonathan.

"Then build it."

Jonathan accepted the signed document.

As he turned to leave, Roosevelt spoke again.

"One more question."

Jonathan stopped.

"How many people should know this organization exists?"

Jonathan answered without hesitation.

"You."

A brief pause.

"Your most trusted advisor."

"And no one else."

Roosevelt studied him.

"That's all?"

Jonathan nodded.

"I'll take care of the one hundred."

For the first time during their meeting, Roosevelt smiled.

"Very well, Mr. Swifter."

"Build it."

Jonathan inclined his head.

"Yes, Mr. President."

He walked out of the Oval Office carrying nothing more than a single signed document and an impossible responsibility.

Outside, Washington continued moving as though the world had changed overnight.

Perhaps it had.

Because beneath the surface of history...

One hundred names were about to change the world.

Without anyone ever knowing they existed.