They had  lived for more than a decade in American cities and suburbs from Seattle  to New York, where they seemed to be ordinary couples working ordinary  jobs, chatting to the neighbors about schools and apologising for noisy  teenagers. Two suspects, Michael Zottoli and Patricia Mills, were  arrested at the high-rise complex where they lived. But on Monday,  federal prosecutors accused 11 people of being part of a Russian  espionage ring, living under false names and deep cover in a patient  scheme to penetrate what one coded message called American "policy  making circles."
An FBI investigation that began at least seven  years ago culminated with the arrest on Sunday of 10 people in Yonkers,  Boston and northern Virginia. The documents detailed what the  authorities called the "Illegals Program," an ambitious, long-term  effort by the S.V.R., the successor to the Soviet K.G.B., to plant  Russian spies in the United States to gather information and recruit  more agents.
The alleged agents were directed to gather  information on nuclear weapons, American policy toward Iran, CIA  leadership, Congressional politics and many other topics, prosecutors  say. The Russian spies made contact with a former high-ranking American  national security official and a nuclear weapons researcher, among  others. But the charges did not include espionage, and it was unclear  what secrets the suspected spy ring, which included five couples,  actually managed to collect.
After years of F.B.I. surveillance,  investigators decided to make the arrests last weekend, just after an  upbeat visit to President Obama by the Russian president, Dmitri A.  Medvedev, said one administration official. Mr. Obama was not happy  about the timing, but investigators feared some of their targets might  flee, the official said.
Criminal complaints filed in Federal District Court in Manhattan on  Monday read like an old-fashioned cold war thriller: Spies swapping  identical orange bags as they brushed past one another in a train  station stairway. An identity borrowed from a dead Canadian, forged  passports, messages sent by shortwave burst transmission or in invisible  ink. A money cache buried for years in a field in upstate New York.
But  the network of so-called illegals -- spies operating under false names  outside of diplomatic cover -- also used cyber-age technology, according  to the charges. They embedded coded texts in ordinary-looking images  posted on the Internet, and they communicated by having two agents with  laptops containing special software pass casually as messages flashed  between them.
Neighbours in Montclair, NJ, of the couple who  called themselves Richard and Cynthia Murphy were flabbergasted when a  team of FBI agents turned up Sunday night and led the couple away in  handcuffs. One person who lives nearby called them "suburbia  personified," saying that they had asked people for advice about the  local schools. Others worried about the Murphys' elementary-age  daughters.
Jessie Gugig, 15, said she could not believe the  charges, especially against Mrs. Murphy. "They couldn't have been  spies," she said jokingly. "Look what she did with the hydrangeas."
Experts  on Russian intelligence expressed astonishment at the scale, longevity  and dedication of the program. They noted that Vladimir V. Putin, the  Russian prime minister and former president and spy chief, had worked to  restore the prestige and funding of Russian espionage after the  collapse of the Soviet Union and the dark image of the KGB
"The  magnitude, and the fact that so many illegals were involved, was a shock  to me," said Oleg D. Kalugin, a former KGB general who was a Soviet spy  in the United States in the 1960s and 1970s under "legal" cover as a  diplomat and Radio Moscow correspondent. "It's a return to the old days,  but even in the worst years of the cold war, I think there were no more  than 10 illegals in the U.S., probably fewer."
Mr. Kalugin, now  an American citizen living outside Washington, said he was impressed  with the FBI's penetration of the spy ring. The criminal complaints are  packed with vivid details gathered in years of covert surveillance --  including monitoring phones and e-mail, placing secret microphones in  the alleged Russian agents' homes, and numerous surreptitious searches.
The  authorities also tracked one set of agents based in Yonkers on trips to  an unidentified South American country, where they were videotaped  receiving bags of cash and passing messages written in invisible ink to  Russian handlers in a public park, according to the charges. 
Prosecutors  said the "illegals Programme" extended to other countries around the  world. Using fraudulent documents, the charges said, the spies would  "assume identities as citizens or legal residents of the countries to  which they are deployed, including the United States. 
Illegals will  sometimes pursue degrees at target-country universities, obtain  employment, and join relevant professional associations" to deepen false  identities. 
One message from bosses in Moscow, in awkward  English, gave the most revealing account of the agents' assignment. "You  were sent to USA for long-term service trip," it said. "Your education,  bank accounts, car, house etc. -- all these serve one goal: fulfill  your main mission, which means, to search and develop ties in  policymaking circles and send intels [intelligence reports] to center." 
It  was not clear what the intelligence reports were about, though one  agent was described as meeting an American government employee working  in a nuclear programme. The defendants were charged with conspiracy, not  to commit espionage, but to fail to register as agents of a foreign  government, which carries a maximum sentence of 5 years in prison; 9  were also charged with conspiracy to commit money laundering, which  carries a maximum penalty of 20 years. They are not accused of obtaining  classified materials. 
There were also hints that Russian spy  bosses feared their agents, ordered to go native in prosperous America,  might be losing track of their official purpose. Agents in Boston  submitted an expense report with such vague items as "trip to meeting"  for $1,125 and "education," $3,600. 
In Montclair, when the  Murphys wanted to buy a house under their names, "Moscow Center," or  "C," the SVR headquarters, objected. 
"We are under an impression  that C views our ownership of the house as a deviation from the  original purpose of our mission here," the New Jersey couple wrote in a  coded message. "From our perspective purchase of the house was solely a  natural progression of our prolonged stay here. It was a convenient way  to solving the housing issue, plus 'to do as the Romans do' in a society  that values home ownership." 
Much of the ring's activity -- and  the FBI investigators' surveillance -- took place in and around New  York. The alleged agents were spotted in a bookstore in Lower Manhattan,  a bench near the entrance to Central Park and a restaurant in  Sunnyside, Queens. 
Secret exchanges were made at busy locations like  the Long Island Rail Road's station in Forest Hills, where FBI watchers  in 2004 spotted one defendant who is not in custody, Christopher R.  Metsos, the charging papers say. 
The arrests made a splash in  neighbourhoods around the country, as FBI teams spent all Sunday night  hunting through houses and cars, shining flashlights and carting away  evidence. 
In Cambridge, Mass, the couple known as Donald Heathfield  and Tracey Foley, who appeared to be in their 40s and had two teenage  sons, lived in an apartment building on a residential street where some  Harvard professors and students live. 
"She was very courteous;  she was very nice," Montse Monne-Corbero, who lives next door, said of  Ms. Foley. The sons shoveled snow for her in the winter, Ms.  Monne-Corbero said, but they also had "very loud" parties. 
Lila  Hexner, who lives in the building next door, said Ms. Foley told her she  was in the real estate business. "She said they were from Canada," Ms.  Hexner said. 
Another of those charged, Mikhail Semenko, was a  stylish man in his late 20s who drove a Mercedes S-500, said Tatyana  Day, who lives across the street from him in Arlington, Va. He had a  brunette girlfriend and the young couple spoke to one another in Russian  and "kept to themselves," Ms. Day said.