Sigma Division

Chapter 14

On Saturday, Spicer was running out of clean clothes to wear so he had to face the inevitable fact that laundry had to be done. He still hadn’t found a convenient laundry service nearby. In his building, there was a laundry room on each floor and each wash cost an astronomical two dollars.

He dropped some whites in the machine and soon Esther walked in with her basket and bottle of fabric softener. She immediately brightened up when she saw him.

“Hey!”

“Good morning, Esther.”

Having obviously started well before him, she took her wet clothes out of a washer and wrung the water out.

Spicer took some mental notes and went on. “I want to apologize.”

“What for?”

“I know I haven’t called. It’s just that I’ve been very busy. Work’s got me traveling all over the place and…”

He dropped some detergent powder in, acting casually but keeping an eye on her nevertheless.

“Gene, it’s okay. Really.”

She brought her clothes to a dryer.

“No, it’s not. I really had a good time the other night. I’d really like to do it again. When work won’t keep me so tied up, I would really like to spend some time with you.”

“It’s weird dating your neighbor, uh?”

Spicer smiled. “Sure as hell makes it impossible for me to blow you off.”

They both shared a chuckle and turned their machines on. Yes, he definitely liked her.

Across town, in the suburbs of Virginia, Houseman was wearing a candy striper uniform, and with dignity. It was sunny and he looked young as he strolled around the hospital grounds, especially compared to the frail old man in the wheelchair he was pushing. The patient was nearing 100 and he had Parkinson’s, shaking uncontrollably.

“And how are you feeling today, sir?”

The old man managed to nod in the affirmative despite his condition and the thick blanket covering most of his body.

“Are you comfortable? Do you need a pillow?”

The man’s head went from left to right, it was a no.

Houseman had been volunteering at the same hospital for over 30 years. To be honest, in the beginning it had been to bolster his image, because in Washington everything was about your image, about perception. Still, it didn’t take long for him to realize he was actually enjoying the work. It was relaxing to socialize with people who didn’t have an agenda and it beat bowling.

As he swerved to avoid a couple of smokers, he noticed a nurse was coming his way.

“Mr. Houseman?”

“Yes?”

“There’s somebody to see you.”

She pointed over her shoulder at Michaels who was standing near the main building.

“Thank you. Could I trouble you by asking you to take this gentleman back inside?”

“No problem,” she said as she took over the wheelchair.

Houseman gave her his most sincere smile, said goodbye to the old man, and walked to Dr. Michaels.

“I’m sorry to disturb you here this morning.”

With a sigh, Houseman said, “I gather the situation is irrefutable?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s unfortunate. Let’s go inside, I need coffee.”

“Good, the operative is meeting us.”

They remained silent as they walked to the hospital cafeteria and found a table by the windows. Houseman blew the steam off his coffee.

“Our fears are verified, right?”

He was speaking at a third person sitting across from them. It was a woman.

Clara.

She shook her head. “There’s no doubt about it. Your boy’s been asking questions he shouldn’t even have thought of.”

“Do you think he found anything significant about the project?” Dr. Michaels asked.

“No. But if he keeps at it he’s bound to.”

Houseman began nodding, like a kid who finally admitted his dog had to be sent away to Dogland. He forgot his coffee and stood up.

“Sir, about my transfer…”

“Please, we’ll talk about this later.”

He walked away toward the exit and Michaels swiftly followed.

He said, “It’s gotta be done.”

“I liked that man. He had a lot of potential.”

“Yeah well, we don’t have much of a choice, Gerald.”

Houseman exhaled loudly and stopped. “I know.”

He walked away.

That afternoon, Spicer was waiting in line at Starbucks. The place was busy, loud with idle chatter and crappy music blasted through the speakers. He was shifting from one foot to the next, impatient and in need of caffeine. Most of all, he was thinking about what was going on at Sigma.

People trying to denounce a secret government project, his needing to keep things under wraps. The mysterious informant Clara had reached out to him and mentioned outlandish claims of thought-reading, but it somehow seemed too easy. He’d tried investigating her but he couldn’t find anything about her through available databases. Her phone number had been filtered through anonymous VoIP bouncing through hotspots around the world.

He knew that he wanted to find out what was going on and he also knew that it was getting dangerous.

A man entered the restaurant. He was in his 30s, solidly built. He was wearing wraparound shades and he was walking with a focused gait. Instinctively, Spicer was on high alert. Something was going down.

He glanced around to see if the man was making contact with someone else, possibly coordinating an attack. Then he located the restrooms as a possible exit.

The stranger kept coming closer, walking swiftly and with confidence.

Spicer kept his breathing in check and without making any sudden movements, he grabbed his keys from his pocket and balled his hand into a fist. He made sure that the keys were protruding between his knuckles. This was a lethal makeshift weapon.

The man in the sunglasses lowered his zipper and reached into his jacket. The CIA man had his eyes glued on him. The line was moving ahead of him but he stayed still. He had to get ready to counterattack if necessary.

What came out of the man’s jacket was a long-stemmed rose. He turned to a young woman sitting at a table and handed it to her as he smiled and removed his shades. A moment later they were kissing.

Spicer let out a long breath and realized he was sweating. Relief washed over him.

The teenage cashier was leaning over the counter for him. “Next!”

He barely heard her. All he could think about was that whenever he felt in danger it was because he really was in danger.