“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
Esther was wearing a similar pajama as before. “It’s like a genie has granted my wish.”
“Be careful what you wish for, I’m moving in permanently.”
She smiled and locked the door behind him. Meanwhile, Spicer set his bag on the couch as he sat down next to it. He emptied all the material he’d stolen and then he changed his mind, carrying the notebooks to the kitchen table.
“You want a beer?”
“Sure.”
He sat down at the table while she went to fetch the beverages. He didn’t waste any time and opened the first notebook. All the notes were handwritten and he kept frowning as he bumped into hundred-dollar words. He ignored the beer Esther poured into a glass for him.
“Do you have a dictionary I can borrow?”
“Here,” she said as she got her laptop. “This is much faster.”
She put the computer on the table next to him and browsed to an online dictionary. This reminded him that he also had USB drives to go through. He plugged one in, prayed it wouldn’t be a virus that would destroy Esther’s computer, and began scrolling through the files. As it turned out, it was the same material which was in the notebooks, only cleaner.
And he started reading. For the next hour he went through dozens of files, all scientific formulas and theories which took twice as long to absorb due to his limited vocabulary. By the third notebook — because he still compared the books to the flash drives in case of discrepancies — he was almost asleep. Then he heard a voice coming from the television and he stood up.
He went to the living room where Esther was on the couch watching some cable news. There was coverage of a political speech and Regis Ford was outdoors in front of an adoring crowd, addressing his voters.
“The future is knocking on our door, asking to be let in. I say let it in!” The crowd went wild. “The future is a time when Washington will decide once and for all to solve the problems instead of shuffling them along. The future is for those back on the moral track. The future is a place where America stands alone on the world’s highest peak. I am the future!”
Spicer said, “And you really want to elect that wackjob, uh?”
“Well, I don’t agree with all his views but I sincerely believe he can put America back in first place.”
“It’s those assholes that get people like me killed. Besides, he’s just a baby-kisser.”
The picture on TV changed to Ford shaking some hands.
Esther rolled her eyes. “He’s not that cheesy.”
On TV, Ford held a baby in each arm and Spicer grinned.
“See?”
“Well, it’s a tried technique.”
“He’s a bit too radical for my taste,” Spicer spat.
“I’m sure he’ll mellow down once in power. It’s always like that, you pander to the base to get in power and then you work with both sides to really make changes people will get behind.”
Spicer still wasn’t buying it and she switched channels. Just knowing that he’d been played, that his mysterious informant Clara had been working for Sigma all along to trip him up and that she was an obvious fan of Regis Ford, it made his blood curdle.
Because that’s what had happened, Houseman and Michaels had wanted to get rid of him the moment he’d started asking questions. So they’d had one of their own feed him false information, giving him rope so he could hang himself. And he’d fallen for it.
He looked at the notebook he was still holding, ignored his desperate need for sleep, and continued flipping through the pages. He was about to give up when he noticed something was written faintly inside the back cover.
What the…
It was a free e-mail address containing the word Anchises.
“Bingo.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to send out an e-mail,” he said as he hurried back to the kitchen.
Intrigued, she got up and followed him to the computer. Spicer went to one of his throwaway Gmail accounts, not bothering to sit down, and started typing.
What is the Anchises Project about? I used to be an insider and I want to know. What is so secret that they’d want to kill Harland Fry for? I don’t have the ability to trace you, please call or write.
He wrote down his number, a burner phone he’d bought today, and hit the Send button. He felt out of breath by the time he was finished.
“I won’t get in trouble over this, right?” Esther asked. “My place, my computer…”
“I’d say less than 65 % chance of getting waterboarded.”
“Good odds, great.”
Kilmer was in his man cave playing pinball. He’d been playing this game since he was a boy. He’d gotten his first job as a paperboy strictly so we would have money to play at the arcade down the street. It had been worth getting read the riot act for coming home late and hanging out with the local juvenile delinquents. To this day, playing pinball helped to clear his mind.
His wife lumbered downstairs and leaned against the wall, watching him play.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep.
“Yeah, I’ve been downstairs for a couple of hours. Sorry I woke you up.”
“Are you coming to bed?”
“In a little while, something at work got me wound up. I wanna relax a bit more.”
“Okay then, just don’t forget to set the alarm.”
She kissed him on the cheek and left.
He barely felt her presence as he continued to mash the flippers aggressively like it was the last time he would ever play. And that’s exactly what it was.
Chapter 21
Spicer had opened his second beer but he wasn’t drinking. His heart wasn’t in it and he was past dulling his senses. He was on the couch next to Esther and the TV was the only source of lighting in the room. It seemed like the only thing that was playing were infomercials. It was that late.
He stared at the tip of his shoes, his feet up on the coffee table at her insistence. He was lost in thought, possibly overwhelmed by everything that was happening, and she picked up on it. She turned sideways and propped her head on her elbow against the back of the couch.
“It’s gonna be all right, Gene. I don’t think there’s anything worth that amount of anxiety.”
“There is,” he said.
“Look, this guy’s gonna call back. You’ll get him on the record and then you can blow the lid off whatever the government’s hiding. All they’ll be able to do afterwards is vigorously deny everything.”
“It’s not all they can do.”
“Sure it is. I’ve read stuff where in some cases they fabricate a story to corroborate their lies. Sometimes they send people away to prison, Guantanamo, but with the truth on your side they can’t touch you.”
He took a deep breath and lifted his head to face her. “I used to kill people for the government.”
She stared at him, agape. “What?”
“I used to be proud of it too. I got rid of national security threats, I destabilized regimes. I like to think that because of what I did I avoided wars.”
She stood up and walked behind the couch. He realized she was putting a physical barrier between them. He couldn’t fault her. At least, she wasn’t running away or trying to call someone.
Esther closed her eyes for long seconds before speaking again. “Why… why did you stop?”
“I didn’t believe in it anymore. When they have you kill a geeky scientist who happens to be a quiet family man, it’s hard to believe that there wasn’t any other option.”