As Dick prepared to announce the names of the backup crew for the first flight, Tom focused on his boss’s mouth, trying to get an early indication if the letter “T” was being formed. Tom was disappointed when his name wasn’t called, nor was it for any of the slots on the second mission. However, his friend lucked out, snagging the backup Lunar Module Pilot position. Tom gave a congratulatory pat on David’s back when his name was called. Landing that slot meant his friend had an excellent chance of rotating onto a mission destined for the moon, and as the LMP, David would walk on its surface.
Tom was getting frustrated when he wasn’t mentioned for the third mission. The fact that astronauts with fewer qualifications were getting those slots convinced him he wasn’t getting a seat. Only two flights remained.
With his hand out of sight, Tom crossed his fingers.
Dick read off, “Sam Cunningham is the commander for the first F mission.”
Tom perked up. He was convinced he and Sam worked well together, and Dick usually didn’t split up proven crews. Plus, F missions were going to the moon. Even though the flight wasn’t scheduled to land, Tom was convinced if all of the Apollo missions preceding the flight went as planned, the mission could be moved up to be the first attempted landing. His only concern was Dick wanted an experienced astronaut in the Command Module Pilot seat. Tom wanted to walk on the moon, not circle it alone while his crewmates had all the fun. So far, the last few prime crews had rookies in the LMP slots.
“Earl Brown is the CMP.”
Tom instantly had mixed feelings hearing that name. Tom was a better pilot than Earl. It would almost be a slap in the face if he was named the LMP. For a few fleeting seconds before Dick disclosed who it would be, Tom found his pride preventing him from rooting for his name, even though he would fulfill his dream of stepping on the lunar surface.
Dick’s voice was clear and precise as the sound of the first letter gave Tom the feeling he was going to be called out. At least I’ll beat David to the moon. He leaned forward, preparing to jab his friend in the back, signaling his minor victory for being put on a prime crew.
“Todd Hawkins is the LMP.”
Tom dropped his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. Damn. If he didn’t get paired up with Sam, he probably wasn’t getting a seat. He kept his eyes trained to the floor as the final crews were announced. His name was never called. He looked up with a stoic expression, making sure not to show any disappointment. At least Chris didn’t get put on a crew. Tom would hate to hear the arrogant guy bragging about his future mission.
Dick said the meeting was over and excused them all. A sudden buzz began in the room—men congratulating each other.
It was obvious David was trying to hide his excitement when he turned around. “Sorry, Tom.”
Tom put on a happy face as he stuck out his hand. “Hey, don’t worry about me. Congratulations to you. Looks like you’re on your way to walking on the moon.”
After shaking hands, Tom turned dejectedly toward the exit. David followed, putting a consoling hand on his shoulder. His friend said in an encouraging tone, “I guarantee you’ll get one of the next assignments, and I’ll bet you’ll be the commander.”
Tom could only hope his friend was right. Before Tom could answer, Dick called out, “Hey, Tom, can you please stay back? I need to talk to you.”
Stopping in his tracks, Tom turned toward his boss. “Of course.” Tom gave a quick nod to David as he left.
Once the room had cleared, the two men sat down at the conference table. Dick had a set of files in front of him. “First of all, I know you’re disappointed I didn’t call your name. I don’t want you to get discouraged. The assignments I read off today had already been approved by the time I cleared you. There’ll be more missions, and I’ll seriously consider you for one of those.”
Tom was feeling better, especially since Dick appeared to have gotten over his anger at Tom’s mistakes on the Gemini mission. Being on the management team and curious how his boss selected the crews, he felt comfortable asking, “So do you have some master plan on who will fly what mission?”
Dick seemed to contemplate whether he should divulge his system. He tapped his fingers a few times on the table. “It’s a lot harder than you think. No, I don’t have a master plan. I know that’s what most of the guys think. Bottom line, I consider every one of you eligible to fly. The trick is, some missions are more challenging than others. For the harder missions, I need the top guys. But as I start putting together crews, personalities come into play. Then I have to take into account what mission the backup crew will rotate into, and will it be a good fit. It all becomes a very complicated puzzle that is constantly being updated and modified, especially as the personnel change.”
Tom appreciated getting insight on the process. “Well, hopefully I get back to being a full-time astronaut soon so you can plug me in.”
Dick straightened up. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m taking you out of management.”
Tom wanted to jump for joy at that. “So no more flying around the country?”
“Well, not as a manager.”
“Great.”
Dick’s voice became intense. “One more thing. I was instructed we should stop asking questions on what you found earlier in the year back at Michoud.”
Tom cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes. Though I didn’t get any answers on what the strange markings were, it was conveyed to me that it was not a big deal. So just drop it.”
Perplexed by the request, Tom rubbed his hands along the side of his pants. Was this why he was being taken out of management? He answered cautiously, “Okay.”
With a piercing gaze, Dick leaned in. “Also, do you have any other pictures of that part? I need to have them all.”
Tom slowly fell back in his seat. That seemed like an odd question to ask, especially if the parts were no big deal. No one knew he had the extra photos, and he was positive he could keep them a secret. Though he was taking another risk of losing his shot to the moon, his gut told him to keep quiet about their existence. “Nope, those were all the pictures I took.”
“Good.”
THE WHITE HOUSE was quiet on a late Thursday afternoon as Lee Collins got the go-ahead to enter the Oval Office. The executive secretary assumed most of the White House personnel had left early to beat the November snowstorm predicted to hit shortly after sunset. Even though it meant Lee might get caught in the nasty weather, he waited, glad for the opportunity to pass on good news regarding the space race. The president had been dealing with congress over the devastating Apollo 1 fire for months and needed something positive regarding America’s space program. The successful launch of the first fully outfitted Saturn V unmanned moon rocket was exactly what the president would want to hear about.
After knocking lightly, Lee slowly poked his head into the office. “Good afternoon, sir.”
The president looked up from his paperwork. “Hey, Lee. What can I do for you?”
Lee took one small step. “Sir, I just stopped by to pass on some good news.”
As he leaned back in his chair, the president’s eyes relaxed. “I could use good news. What is it?”
“Apollo 4 was a success today. It just passed the all-up test with flying colors.”
After a brief hand clap, the president, now upbeat, said, “That is great to hear. Good job.” He leaned forward, putting his arms on his desk. “Sounds like the F-1 engines did their job. I guess our little treaty deal worked.”
The president had never been told the full details of the final arrangement made with the Soviets. Lee felt it best not to divulge that the deal also included NASA secretly passing over sacred lunar material from two future Apollo missions. If the transaction ever leaked out to the press, Lee would be the fall guy, not the president, preserving the good man’s legacy. The president was only told Moscow agreed to pass over the parts if the U.S. signed the moon treaty. “Yes, sir, it did.”
With a flash of joy, the president put both hands flat on his desk. “Now do you think we can beat the Soviets to the moon?”
“I think we have an excellent chance, sir. We are close to implementing all the command module design changes that where put in place because of the fire. Once final testing is done on the CM, we should be back on schedule. I think we just might make Kennedy’s deadline.”
“Good. Keep me abreast of any further news.” The president looked back down at his paperwork, this time with a big smile on his face.
“Yes, sir.” Lee proudly exited, glad he had chanced getting caught in the snowstorm in order to deliver the upbeat news.
9
TEMPTATION
1969
The Holiday Inn lounge was packed with locals and celebrating tourists visiting Cocoa Beach for the Apollo 10 launch, scheduled to happen later that weekend. After Tom had dinner with David and a few other astronauts, the group decided to check out the hotel bar, have a few nightcaps and listen to live music. Tom suspected they would probably get plastered and end up stumbling back to their rooms. It had been a tough week, and he was ready to completely unwind. Their only responsibility for the weekend was to hobnob with some VIPs and observe the launch, which they all could do with a hangover. Tom debated if he should call Anne before having too much to drink. Since it was already late on Friday night, he decided to hold off until the morning.
Earlier that day Tom and the other astronauts had flown to Cape Canaveral in T-38s. After landing, he was medically cleared to visit with his former commander, who would command Apollo 10, to wish him good luck. Sam was under quarantine in the crew quarters, and as expected, was as calm as ever. Tom saw that his friend bestowed no sign he would soon be strapped into the biggest and mightiest rocket ever built, destined for only the second trip ever to the moon. Sam even joked that his mission was just one big tease, since their objective was to get within eight miles of the lunar surface before turning around and coming back home. The mission Sam really wanted was the one he was certain Tom would get, one of the future Apollo moon landing flights. Tom appreciated his friend’s endorsement, though Tom still questioned his own chances.
It had been almost two years since Tom’s private meeting with Dick after the first Apollo crews were announced. Back then, his boss had promised he would be put on a future mission. That never happened and Tom had no idea why. Whenever he probed his boss, Dick always answered the same way, saying Tom would probably get on the next one. After missing out on the last assignment, Tom had finally had enough. The constant letdowns were too much to handle and he was going to quit. Before submitting his resignation, he discussed his decision with Anne, who immediately set him straight. She pointed out that the man she married would never give up. She still believed he was one of NASA’s finest.
Though it was tough seeing less-deserving astronauts get seats before him, Tom set his bruised ego aside and stuck it out, continuing to give his best effort for the space program. But he would quit on the spot if Chris Riddick got a seat before him, especially after the man’s divorce took him out of favor with Dick.
David nudged Tom’s arm, and said over the loud music, “Check out that blonde over there in the white go-go boots.”
Tom peered over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his scotch. The sight blew him away. The twenty-something girl looked amazing as she sexily swayed her body to the mellow music, her head cocked backward with her eyes closed, lost in the song. She danced alone behind a group of women sitting at the bar who were oblivious to their dancing friend. This blonde beauty was dressed in a rainbow-colored, psychedelic mini-dress that clung tightly to her shapely body, her sleeves flaring out under her extended arms. A bright-colored headband scarf flowed perfectly through her blonde curls. Those shiny white boots traveled high up her bare legs to just below her knees. All the astronauts, including Tom, agreed with David’s assessment—this lady was hot.
David followed up his comment with enthusiasm. “That’s a girl I could have fun with.”
Though he’d said it in a joking way, Tom knew David was serious. Ever since he started getting press for being on a crew that would rotate onto a moon mission, David had changed. The whole stardom thing was going to his head, and he began messing around on Joan, which put Tom in a tough spot, trying to keep the secret from Anne.
David wasn’t the only astronaut having an affair. Many were. Astronauts were like rock stars whenever they visited a town, especially Cocoa Beach. The space town had become a big playground for the men. Many lobbied for an assignment in the area just so they could be free from home and enjoy the swinging nightlife. Some even had apartments with mistresses living in them. Dick allowed the indiscretions as long as the press never got wind of it. The veterans dubbed these ladies “Cape Cookies.” The temptation was tough to resist, even for Tom. He lusted after attractive women just as much as the next guy. But he never acted on the desire. He had too much to lose with Anne. The last thing he wanted was to mess up things with her.
Another astronaut chimed in, “How about that brunette in those hot pants sitting in front of the blonde?”
David adjusted his barstool to get a better look. “Nice. I think I could have fun with that one too.”
Tom thought it best to change the subject before the conversation got out of hand. Since he was the only one at the table who had visited with the Apollo 10 crew, he decided to relay the men’s mood. He piped up so all could hear. “Sam seemed pretty relaxed today. You would never know he’ll be firing off for the moon on Sunday.”
David took a big swig of beer before turning to his friend. “That’s Sam. I’ve never seen him nervous. He’s always so cool under pressure. Sometimes I wonder if he’s human. Did he have anything to say about the mission?”
Tom looked at his glass as he swirled its contents. “Yeah, he’s disappointed he has to paint a white line all the way to the moon so Apollo 11 can follow it and get all the glory. He said he just might surprise us all and land.”
All the men chuckled. “That would be hilarious, and it would shock the hell out of the top brass.”
Tom took a sip of his drink and set the glass on the wooden table. “It would shock the hell out of all of us. And what could management do?”
They all knew the lunar module lacked the needed fuel to permit a landing, but still a few chimed in. “Nothing.”
“Exactly.”
A man barged in between two of the men with his arms extended like a bird in flight, wrapping them around the men like he was greeting fraternity brothers. “What’s up, guys?” It was Chris Riddick.
One of Chris’s best buddies called out, “Hey, Chris, how ya doing, pal? Pull up a barstool and join us.”
Tom stayed planted on his seat while the other guys moved to make extra room.
“Thanks. I think I will.” Chris snagged an extra barstool from the adjoining table and made himself comfortable.
One of the men asked Chris, “Did you just fly in?”
“Yeah, I finally finished up my week in the barrel. Did I miss anything?”
Since Chris had not yet flown or been assigned a mission, he had to take his turn in the “barrel,” like all the other rookies, traveling the country to help promote NASA. The promotional trip usually included stops at local Rotary clubs and various luncheons where the astronaut would present a slide show followed by a discussion. Most of the men detested the week, but Chris seemed to enjoy showing off being an astronaut.
“Nope, we’re just checking out the ladies across the room.”
Chris’s neck shot up like a stork’s. “Which ones?”
David pointed out the women. “Over there at the bar.”
“Nice. So how come they’re not over here?”
Chris’s buddy chimed in. “We’re waiting for you to rope them in for us.”
Flashing a cocky grin, Chris jumped off his barstool. “I got you guys covered. Hold on.” He sauntered toward the ladies with a
brash swagger.
All the guys turned to watch. One of the men shook his head and said, “That guy has no fear. He’ll do anything.”
Most of the astronauts bought into Chris’s shtick, but not Tom.
Ever since Chris officially divorced from Sandy last year, he became this swinging bachelor who most of the men envied. He had the freedom to attend astronaut functions with a different woman on his arm. Chris was especially admired by those astronauts who were cheating. They all wished they could get a divorce, but none of them dared, since no one knew what impact it would have on their career. Chris was their guinea pig, and they were all waiting to see what would happen. As long as Chris did not get a flight, it was doubtful any astronaut would come forward about any issues happening at home.
Soon Chris had escorted the ladies over to the table, where they easily settled in and mingled among the men. Tom stayed quiet as he nonchalantly checked each one out while sipping his drink. They were all pretty, but his eyes always ended up back on the blonde. She flashed him a coy grin when she caught him staring, causing him to quickly turn away, like a shy schoolboy.
Dominating the conversation, Chris was overplaying the astronaut card. He tried to wow the girls by implying most of the men at the table would probably walk on the moon someday.
Eyes widened at the comment, but not the blonde’s. She didn’t look impressed. Eventually she moved in closer to the table and spoke in an amused tone, “So have any of you boys been in outer space yet?”
A few of the men pointed toward Tom. “He has.”
With a playful look in her eyes, the blonde sensually circled the group toward him. Tom knew he was in trouble when he got a close up of her alluring cleavage. He had to force his eyes upward when she extended her hand.
USSR Hoax (Hoax Trilogy Book 3) Page 8