Into a Raging Blaze by Andreas Norman, Ian Giles

Home, the Commission’s general directorate for security of the interior. But a proposal from the Commission for a new security organization would surely not be news to Stockholm. Not if the decision was going to be taken at the next Council of Ministers in a month. She smiled at him. Why give her information that Justice probably already had? The whole situation was a little funny, yet irritating at the same time.
    “There are those who want to give the EU a new role,” he said in a tone so low she was obliged to lean forward. “Its own intelligence organization. You’re probably familiar with the debate. Everyone is talking about new security and foreign policy. The EU as a superpower. They would like to see a United States of Europe. EIS is the first step—the creation of a joint spy organization.”
    “Who are ‘they’?”
    He waved the question away with a grimace. “People in Counterterrorism. Hawks. Please don’t ask me to name names. I work at the Commission, I know what they’re capable of. Look here: there is a proposal that is practically complete for the European Intelligence Service, but there are very few people who are familiar with the proposal in its entirety. EIS will be a secret authority, controlled directly by the EU’s foreign minister, and its powers will be enormous. The right to conduct wiretapping and signals intelligence work within Schengen. The execution of operations not covered by the laws of member states. Special operations, things like that.” He looked hard at her to let it sink in, before continuing. “I’m a European. I have always believed in the EU as something great. Do you know what I mean? But this . . . this is the Union rotting from the inside. It has to be stopped. Here.” He produced a USB drive from his jacket and pressed it quickly into her hand. “Take it.”
    “What is it?”
    “The proposal.”
    “But why give it to me? I don’t have any . . .”
    “You have a conscience.” He looked at her seriously.
    “But . . .” She lost her thread through sheer astonishment and shook her head. Conscience? It was a long time since she had heard someone use that word. Didn’t he understand how it worked? She wasn’t there as an individual; she was part of the Swedish diplomatic corps. What her conscience said wasn’t always relevant to Swedish foreign policy.
    “Read it. Then pass it on to the right people.”
    “But who do you think I am?” she burst out. “I don’t have any powers . . .”
    “I’m not talking about powers,” he said sharply. “I’m talking about your sense of right and wrong. Use it. I’ve sat in on a number of the most recent meetings and I’ve heard how you speak. What you said today was not the Swedish position,” he said with a smile. “You spoke from the heart. That’s a very unusual quality in Brussels, let me tell you.”
    She squirmed. He was right—sometimes she went a little too far in discussions. There was something about his agitation that was genuine, personal. He meant what he was saying.
    “Okay. But, just so the picture is clear, you want me to leak a proposal from the Commission.”
    “It’s an unfortunate word. But, if you want to put it like that, then . . . then . . . yes.”
    She was sorely tempted to tell him that, unfortunately, she couldn’t help. She knew there would be trouble if she returned with a draft from the Commission about a new European intelligence organization. There was a lot of prestige and a lot of sensitivity in matters of high secrecy like intelligence cooperation. Justice and Defense were the ministries responsible for the issues; it would be important to navigate carefully from early on to ensure it didn’t look like the MFA was trying to muscle in. She would need to talk to Anders Wahlund, even if the thought of explaining to him how she had gotten the report made her feel unhappy. Justice would presumably react—they were suspicious of all outsiders and