Sigma Division

Chapter 9

The wind was cold as it slapped against Spicer’s cheeks but he couldn’t deny how gorgeous the scenery was. While the campus of Cornell University reminded him of the recent adventures at UVA, there was a laid-back yet classy vibe that could only be found at Ivy League schools. Fallen leaves were whirling around him and Ned.

“If we’re to get to the guy who wrote that article we don’t have much of a choice.”

Ned agreed. “The Anchises Project is the only active business right now.”

“We check all the ongoing research, see what it’s about. We’ll see how people feel around us.”

With not much to go on, their plan hinged on basic investigation methods, namely beating the bush and see what came out.

Shortly after walking by the Big Red Barn, a charming former carriage house, they went into McGraw Hall. They climbed to the third floor where they had an appointment with an aging professor. He was two cheeseburgers away from a heart attack.

“So you folks are from the foundation. You’re not cutting off my grant, are you?”

He chuckled and the others politely joined in while the academic closed his office door.

“No,” Spicer began. “We came to check up on your research, see how it’s going.”

“It’s going well. I’ve just reached the middle-ages.” He sat down and lit his pipe. “You don’t mind, do you? They threaten to fire me over this terrible habit about once a month. But at my age you start putting pleasure ahead of everything. Otherwise, what’s the point of living?”

Ned shook his head. “It’s fine.”

The professor smiled. “With my prostate down and out and my slight, shall we say, weight problem, this is the only pleasure I have left.”

Spicer said, “Why don’t you give us your sales pitch on this research?”

“I can’t say that I have one. I’m not supposed to talk about it, remember?”

“Just try anyway.”

“Are you sure you guys really are from the Anchises Foundation? I wouldn’t want to be in trouble over this.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ned said.

“Perfectly understandable, sir. I’m sure you have the foundation’s phone number in your notes. Give them a call and ask about us.”

“I’m sure that’d be totally unnecessary.”

“No, really, go ahead. We’ll wait outside.”

The man made the call and after that he suggested they had a talk while walking through the Carl A. Kroch Library, for privacy’s sake. The place was not only state-of-the-art but it occupied three floors underground and was used to house rare books and manuscripts.

“I’m sorry about this, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, this is where I do most of my research, it’s quiet and secret. This is one of my assistants right there. I tell them specifically what to search for so they never really know about the big picture.”

Spicer followed the man’s pointing finger and spotted a grad student at a table, engrossed in a book.

“And what is the big picture?”

“For the last two years, I’ve been researching dictatorships throughout history and the effects of such a regime on the population. I’ve written just over two thousand pages so far, and I’m only half way through. It’s fascinating work.”

“Tell me professor, don’t you find it an odd research. I mean, don’t you ever ask yourself why a foundation would give you the mandate of researching such a topic?”

The man stopped and turned up to face his two visitors. “Look, I love my job. I have a Ph.D. in political science and one in history. This is a dream job. But I’ve seen weirder. Hell, at the height of the Cold War my uncle was recruited by the government to look into the use of torture in interrogation. Now, that’s far out.”

An hour later, the two CIA men were walking back to their rental car. Ned was silent and Spicer picked up on it.

“What is it?”

“I’m a bit uncomfortable with what we just learned, Spicer.”

“Are you?”

“I’m sure there’s a reason why we didn’t know any of this, why our personal files only read Cornell University, history research. We weren’t supposed to learn what we just did.”

Spicer stopped to face his partner. “Look, you can’t expect a guy to go down in the woods to chop off trees only holding his dick in his hands. That’s what they’re doing with us. We’re supposed to find the guy who wrote the article but they don’t tell us shit. Don’t you find this the least bit strange?”

“We’re messing with deep classified shit, here.”

“Only one guy’s idea of it.”

“You seriously need to blow your nuts, man. Please, go jerk off in the car, I’ll wait for you.”

Spicer walked off and the McGraw Tower chimes started ringing.