Destination Dealey: Countdown to the Kennedy Conspiracy

by L. D. C. Fitzgerald

  They finally arrived at North Padre Island off the coast of Corpus Christi, Texas.

  Traversing the beach, Quin snapped his fingers. “Hold on a sec. I gotta go lock the car.” He turned toward the dunes where the vehicles were parked.

  “Don’t be a putz, Quin.” Sera caught up with him and squeezed his forearm. “It doesn’t matter what happens to the Chevy. We have to go. Now.”

  Bereft, Quin inhaled his last vision of the car’s beauty. “I hope your next owner takes good care of you.” He bowed his head and straightened out his hand as if giving a blessing. “Long may you run.” Raising his chin, he broke into the signature whine of Neil Young, lamenting the loss of his first car.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Sera steered him back.

  Quin shuffled forward, singing over his shoulder about the car’s “chrome heart shining in the sun.”

  The rest of the troop dug up the raft and gear from their secret hiding spot on the ranch. Sera and Quin helped carry the paraphernalia to the water’s edge, while Sam lagged at the rear, silent. Glistening in the dim glow of a quarter moon, the surface of the Gulf of Mexico rippled. Waves lapped up on shore with a quiet splash.

  Bick, Kon, and Iggy inflated the rubber boat. Meanwhile, Jay stripped down to his boxer shorts and donned his wetsuit. He blew into the regulator of his scuba apparatus to clear out the sand.

  Bick watched Jay getting ready and realized Dee wasn’t following suit. She was standing on the beach, brooding at the ocean’s muted horizon. Perhaps a gentle nudge. “How does your equipment look, Dee?”

  She slowly spun and frowned at him, as if his presence surprised her.

  “We want to shove off soon, so maybe you should get ready.”

  “No”—she shook her head thoughtfully—“I don’t think so.”

  The dreamlike quality of her tone rang alarm bells for Jay. “Dee, he’s right, we need to move.”

  “Yeah. You do.” Her consciousness alighted at the present. “What I mean is, I’m not going with you.”

  The remaining crewmembers jerked to attention.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re going.” Iggy returned to her work on the cumbersome raft. “We all are.”

  Dee took a huge breath. “I’m sorry, Iggy. I’m not.”

  Iggy flinched.

  “Please understand this is an insanely difficult decision for me. We’ve been through so much together and all of you are like family to me. And it hurts to say good-bye. But the thought of going back to 2013, to a world where my mom was never born, and my dad may have married someone else . . . to a place where he won’t love me or recognize me . . . well, that pain cuts even deeper. I know in my heart I’m meant to stay.”

  Bick glanced down, a lump in his throat. He knew Dee had been thrilled to reunite with her granddad, only to be devastated when he treated her like a stranger. Now he was gone.

  Kon, the dispassionate observer, rolled his eyes. After this episode, didn’t the Americans comprehend how time travel could change history? “You are having an emotional response to a rational issue. Realize that your future is not inscribed permanently in ink. We will return to the past to erase your errors, so it will be as if these events never occurred.”

  “My mind is made up. Emotional or rational, or whatever, my gut is telling me to stay. Besides, I’m not even supposed to exist in the new reality.”

  Iggy approached as the others formed a semi-circle around Dee. “Don’t talk like that. There’s not a shred of empirical evidence.”

  Dee impulsively embraced Iggy as she felt her eyes flood. Releasing her, Dee swiped under her lashes.

  “Yeah, little Miss Reporter. This ain’t some fictional book or movie, where—poof—you’ll disappear in the new timeline.” Quin gave his familiar sideways grin. “Everything will be hunky-dory, as long as you’re with us.” He hugged her. “Aw, kid.”

  “Come with us.” Sera placed a palm on Dee’s shoulder, bowled over by her blossoming affection for the feisty red-haired survivor.

  Dee pulled her in for a brief, fierce clinch. Sera sniffed.

  Next in line, Kon gripped her wrist in a manly handshake. Shrugging, he gave her a quick kiss on each cheek. “Good luck, comrade.”

  Dee nodded at Sam. He didn’t say a word, but gazed back forlornly. Holding out two stiff elbows, Sam clamped her to his chest, patted her hair, and let go.

  Jay studied his childhood companion, the compassionate girl who had befriended a lonely geek. “You know we need you.” He enfolded her in his arms with the sharp intake of a sob. “Without you, our team is incomplete.”

  As they disengaged, tears streamed down Dee’s face.

  “Please?” Bick clasped her small paw in both his big hands. “It’s the only way I can be sure you’re safe.” He crushed her in a bear hug.

  Seconds ticked by; he could not let go.

  She whispered in his ear, “Come back and find me. When everything is, you know, better.”

  Bick straightened up so he could lock his eyes on her. “No, you belong with us.”

  Dee tried to form her mouth into a brave smile. “I belong here now.”

  11:30 PM – CST

  Half an hour later, Jay was kicking his scuba fins hard as he tried to break free of the gloomy depths. Even with a waterproof flashlight, it was nearly impossible to determine at what point the water ended and the air began. He sorely missed Dee. These night dives remained a source of trauma to him.

  Why did she have to stay behind? All that nonsense about belonging in 1963. He searched for sanity, for reason. Then the harsh truth descended like a weight threatening to plunge him farther down. He was entirely to blame. Dee wouldn’t be here at all if he hadn’t involved her in the first place. He would have to bear the burden of his regret.

  With a start, Jay erupted through to the atmosphere. Good thing that was over. He had used sonar to find the Tempus Orbis before diving down to pump the brine from the ballast chambers. Now, he shivered from the cold. Although fewer than twenty yards deep, the intertidal shelf never saw sunshine. He scanned the Gulf and found the rest of the party waiting in the rubber dinghy.

  Still shell-shocked from Dee’s defection, Quin rallied, trying to sound impatient. “Aren’t you forgetting something there, Jay?”

  Gauging the approximate interval, Jay swished his lamp in a flourish to where he expected the ship to rise.

  Nothing happened.

  Assuming his estimate was off by a few seconds, Jay churned his fins and flourished again.

  Still nothing.

  Jay slumped in defeat. With a resounding splash, the mammoth sphere bobbed up, liquid running in rivulets down its convex hull.

  “Ta dah!” Jay finished lamely. He grabbed a protruding handhold while Bick and Kon paddled closer.

  Jay tied the raft to the Tempus with a tether. From the water, he illuminated the team as they climbed up to the hatch and dropped into the core of the chilly submersible. Nobody spoke. All of them were mourning Dee’s departure.

  Finally, Jay heaved himself out of the ocean into the rubber craft and paused. A low rumble seemed to issue forth across the sea. He tilted his head from side to side to clear the water out of his ears. The noise abruptly ceased. Perhaps he had imagined it. Jay slipped off his mask and tanks, and tossed them into the boat as he prepared to board the ship.

  Quin dangled out of the hatch of the Tempus and cut the tether to the raft.

  Suddenly, a bright searchlight cast Jay’s shadow across the metallic hull. What the? He turned to find its origin and immediately brought his forearm up to protect his eyes. Before he could think of his next move, a deafening gunshot obliterated the tranquil night.

  Hiss.

  The inflatable was hit! Astounded, Jay loosened his grip and the lamp escaped from his fingers. He leapt onto the time-travel vessel, the raft listing beneath him. Quin grasped Jay’s arms to hoist him up as he scrambled over the smooth curvature. Before falling into the hatch, Jay turned, hoping
to see his attacker, although he could lay odds on his identity. The spotlight rotated to shine on the cockpit of a twenty-foot speedboat. Oh, good God.

  Dee stood prisoner on the deck with her hands held high, while Tolson aimed a weapon at her temple. Hoover gloated at his side.

  11:40 PM – CST

  Jay tumbled into the fluorescent interior of the Tempus Orbis. “They’ve got Dee! They’ve got Dee!” He landed on the floor with a thud.

  Sam froze in horror and mute self-loathing. How many more would have to suffer?

  Pandemonium ensued. Everyone shouted at once, wanting to know what had happened and who had Dee. Bick howled like an injured animal.

  In answer to their questions, a voice boomed out, amplified by a megaphone. “Attention, time travelers. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have your companion. I need you to surrender yourselves and that ship to me.”

  “Hoover!” Bick uttered an odious expletive while rummaging around for his gun.

  Jay stood up, dripping water. “Yeah, and Tolson’s got a pistol trained on Dee.”

  “How did he find us?” Kon asked in an accusing tone. “Are you Americans so incompetent you told him the coordinates?”

  “Don’t be absurd! There has to be a logical explanation.” Jay’s mind calculated. “I’ve got it. They must have tracked us down through vehicle registration and had our cars tailed since Dallas.”

  “I knew those ludicrous hot rods were a bad idea.” Sera stalked over to a porthole—which hovered above sea level—and strained to see in the darkness.

  The disembodied announcer spoke. “Come out now, or someone will get hurt.” Punctuating Hoover’s threat, a bullet clanged against the brass shell.

  “I have to get out there and rescue Dee.” Bick’s heart wrenched in despair as he darted toward the ladder. “I can’t leave her at the mercy of that madman!”

  Quin sidestepped into his path. “Whoa there, fella. You can’t burst out there willy-nilly.”

  “No, Bick!” Iggy positioned herself to reinforce Quin’s barricade. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “All of you, halt right there!” Sam reached into his coat and brandished his Locklier H2 2011.

  Everyone crouched low in terror, while a high-decibel shriek emanated from Jay’s throat. “What the hell are you doing, Sam?”

  “I set an unspeakable chain of events in motion by transporting this technology from 2013 and bringing it to its ultimate destination, Dealey. All along, I had every intention of assassinating Kennedy.”

  They gasped.

  “Please tell me you didn’t kill the president!” Iggy clutched her chest, realizing this would explain the holes in his story.

  “In the end, I didn’t. You were right about me. I’m not a murderer.” Sam hung his head. “But that bastard Dmitriy attacked me behind the stockade fence, snatched the Locklier, and blew away Kennedy. I’m as guilty as if I had pulled the trigger myself. I won’t have yet another death on my conscience.”

  “Wait! We need a plan. If any of us leaves this ship”—Iggy lifted her palms in a beseeching manner—“we’re nothing but target practice.”

  “Not all of us.” Sam set his jaw. “Just me.” He swept the weapon in an arc to keep the stunned team at bay, and clambered up the ladder.

  11:50 PM – CST

  Sam perched partway out of the hatch, raising his arms in surrender. When the searchlight blinded him, he flung the 2011 from his right hand, plunking it into the Gulf. He removed his shoes left-handed, climbed out, and slid into the tepid water.

  Swimming the fifty-foot distance to Hoover’s speedboat, he kept surveillance on the G-men, trying to develop a strategy. Save Dee. Save Dee. Save Dee. A bolt of electricity went through him when he recognized her captor as the man in the double-breasted suit from Dealey. Tolson! He hadn’t been rendering aid at all, and in fact was probably responsible for bashing Sam in the skull.

  Hoover pointed his firearm at Sam as he ordered Tolson to help him on board. The associate director put his gun down and started to haul up the new hostage.

  With their focus diverted, Sam bellowed, “Go!”

  Dee seized her opportunity and dove in.

  Tolson unceremoniously dumped Sam onto the deck, as Hoover commanded, “Stop her!”

  Both Feds fired into the waves folding into Dee’s wake.

  11:55 PM – CST

  “That’s it.” Inside the Tempus Orbis, Bick shoved Iggy and Quin aside. He vaulted up the ladder to the hatch, wielding his weapon. Dammit! He knew he should have been the one to rescue Dee.

  Jay and Sera had observed Sam’s latent heroics and provided a play-by-play of the action. Now they joined the others who were yelling and screaming for Bick to abandon his suicide run.

  Bick paid no heed. He popped out of the hatch, toting his revolver in a menacing posture. A barrage of bullets whizzed by his exposed torso. He kept trying to retaliate, but the volley of fire continued. After several unsuccessful attempts, he ducked inside, hunting wildly for any sort of protection. But every component of the ship was bolted or welded into place for Zero G. Time was betraying him. “Help me! I need a shield!”

  From inside, the others had been monitoring the situation.

  “Bick, man.” Quin’s voice croaked. “It’s no use.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve got to try!”

  Iggy reached up and gently tugged his ankle. “If she hasn’t surfaced by now, it’s too late. She’s . . . she’s gone.”

  Bick opened his mouth to argue, to prove her wrong, but no speech came. The undeniable truth hit him between the eyes like a sledgehammer, and his stoicism faded away. His entire body shook with heaving, uncontrollable sobs.

  Quin and Kon half carried him down while Iggy discreetly went up and closed the hatch.

  11:59 PM – CST

  On the speedboat, Hoover brought Sam to his knees with his hands clasped behind his head. Tolson pressed the megaphone to Sam’s lips while Hoover aimed his gun at the engineer. “Order them out of that ship now, or you’re a dead man.”

  A blinding flash of light incapacitated Sam, Hoover, and Tolson as a thunderous boom reverberated across the ocean.

  “Ship?” Sam blinked at the FBI director several times. “What ship?”

  2013 AGAIN

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 2013

  12:30 AM – CST

  1:30 AM – EST

  Iggy woke with a throbbing headache. These time-jump hangovers were for the birds. Floating against her restraints in Zero G, she scanned her companions. “Everyone okay?” General groans greeted her in response.

  Bick rubbed his swollen eyes. Although he was groggy, his pain at losing Dee still sliced through him like a knife. “Hold on.” His gaze darted around the spherical submersible. “This isn’t our ship! Everything is brand new.”

  “Yeah, the seats match each other. And why are we wearing these?” Sera’s pulse raced. Instead of the cobalt blue flightsuits they had donned, they now wore vivid orange ones.

  Quin scrabbled at the buttons and switches on the pilot’s console. “Hey, what gives?” He bolted upright. “These flight controls. They look kinda NASA-ey.”

  “I’ve got it!” Suddenly alert, Jay snapped his fingers. “Well, one possibility anyway. If we have indeed arrived in 2013, we have to remember our mission originated from a different future. Perhaps the government in this timeline sent us back to fix the past.”

  Kon cocked his hand into a gun and pointed it at Iggy. “If that is so, they will not be happy with your stupendous failure.”

  3:00 AM – EST

  Ninety minutes later, Sera started heaving great, shuddering breaths. She was flabbergasted they hadn’t bought the farm. “What the hell was that, Quin?” After the ship had screamed through a burning atmospheric reentry, massive parachutes had yanked it upward. Retro-rockets had then buffeted the ship into position before they slammed into the ground.

  Pilot Quin wiped sweat
from his forehead. “No problemo. Any landing you can walk away from . . .”

  Ashen, copilot Bick turned to him. “Is a good landing.”

  As the overhead hatch began to creak open, the crew exchanged glances. In space, they had verified the year as 2013. Who or what lurked outside?

  Kon, however, didn’t hesitate as he unbuckled himself. “Let’s go.” He clambered up the ladder and out the hatch. Although the middle of the night, floodlights blazed across the landing zone like daytime. Vans, trucks, and ambulances swarmed, while scores of people meandered about. Kon alighted on the ground and planted his fists on his hips.

  One by one, the Team Orbis members stumbled out into the humid, sixty-degree temperature.

  Goggling at the chaos, Quin watched a man wearing a white dress shirt and blue-emblem tie approach. A fringe of brown hair crowned his otherwise bald head. His face sported a close-cropped goatee and tortoise-shell bifocals. Quin seized the guy’s shoulders. “Dude! You made it. You’re not dead!”

  Frank Thomas extricated himself and straightened his NASA-logo tie. “Uh, good to see you too, Quin.”

  “Guys, c’mere!” Quin hoisted his arms forward. “Look who it is!”

  Sera embraced Frank. “Thank God! We thought we lost you in Eureka.”

  “Eureka?” What was she talking about? Frank had known something was wrong from the moment they lost radio contact with the ship.

  Iggy gave Frank a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for saving our skins.”

  Jay gawked at Frank, admiration blooming. He had helped them escape Lehigh University, brought them to Quin and Sam, and attacked the warden so they could jump to 1963. “You know, in hindsight, you’re the only one of us who did anything right. Thanks.”

  Frank stared. “Well, it was a team effort.”

  Bick slapped him on the back. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Kennedy? My job.”

  “About that.” Quin drooped his features into a hound-dog apology expression. “We screwed up.”

  “What are you talking about?” Frank hunched his shoulders. “I watched the live feed from here.”