USSR Hoax (Hoax Trilogy Book 3)

by Paul Gillebaard

  “That was a propaganda statement. We can’t trust the Americans. That’s why I called you in here.” The agent opened his briefcase and pulled out a pair of dark-rimmed reading glasses, sliding them over to Viktor. “You will be the man to receive the lunar material from the Americans. A neutral site for the transaction will be determined later. These KGB-issued glasses have a micro camera in them. I want you to learn how to use these without looking obvious. You will be taking pictures of the American astronaut as he passes the material over.”

  Viktor took the glasses. He figured any cosmonaut wearing them would look suspicious, but he kept this to himself. “Why am I taking pictures?”

  “We want proof the Americans handed over the material in case they claim we stole it.”

  “When will this take place?”

  “We haven’t been given a firm date yet, probably within the next couple of months. Part of the holdup was due to the Americans being upset we sent the Luna spacecraft while the Apollo 11 mission was going on. The agreement was for the robotic mission to fly after we secretly received the lunar material. Of course they had no idea a weapon was on board the spacecraft. They assumed we were just trying to retrieve a sample. We informed them a mix-up took place between the agencies. They finally accepted it as an honest mistake and agreed to secretly pass over the lunar material. Luna 16 will be the mission we will use to pull off the hoax.”

  Viktor was disappointed the agency even had to go through with the plan. He was sure the engineers would eventually figure out how to return lunar soil samples. “What will my official reason be for meeting with an astronaut?”

  “We will say the two countries are working on a future joint space mission. The meeting is to promote the idea.”

  Considering the Soviets weren’t going to the moon anytime soon, this could be Viktor’s chance to get into space. “Will there be such a mission?”

  “Good question. Possibly. If so, I would recommend you for the prime crew if you are successful with the transfer.”

  Viktor stoically nodded, suppressing his joy at the possibility.

  WITH THE THREE-WEEK mandatory quarantine completed by the Apollo 11 crew and the lunar material passing the initial testing for any contamination, Tom assumed his private meeting with Dick was to discuss the top-secret details on how he was going to steal lunar material. After entering the well-lit office, Tom took the initiative to close and lock the door.

  “Have a seat, Tom.”

  Tom walked over to the chair across from his boss. He understood, once the specifics of the operation were laid out, he would be considered an accessory to a crime, regardless whether he carried it out or not. He did his best to keep his cool as he took a seat. “So what did you want to see me about?”

  Even with his door shut, Dick lowered his voice to barely an audible level. “I want to discuss the operation, which is now being called Red Drop. It was officially approved, and I’ve been given the final details on how you’re going to get the lunar sample.”

  Tom was all ears.

  Dick never wavered from his serious expression. “You should know Red Drop was almost canceled after the Soviets launched Luna 15 shortly after we launched Apollo 11. The Russians were supposed to hold off until our men returned. Apparently they tried to land the craft on the moon, but instead it crashed. Because only a few here at NASA are in the know about Red Drop, there was confusion whether we should still proceed with the operation. But we were finally given the Go.”

  Tom figured the Soviets were trying a last-ditch effort to use their unmanned spacecraft to bring back samples of their own, maybe even beating Apollo 11 back to Earth. He was relieved the Luna mission failed, keeping his chances alive of walking on the moon. “Good.”

  Dick opened up a file on his desk, studying the contents in silence for a moment. He cleared his throat, then brought his eyes up slowly. In a soft, yet direct tone, he said, “Senator Olson will be arriving next Tuesday for the day. You will be the one to show him around the facility in the late afternoon, with your last stop at the LRL building. The two of you are scheduled to be in the building’s lobby at four o’clock. For security reasons, there will be two men giving you the tour. One of those men will be in on the plan.”

  Curious who that was, Tom started to ask.

  Dick raised his hand as if to stop Tom. “Don’t ask me who it is. I don’t even know. He wants his identity kept secret.”

  That could make things tricky.

  Dick looked back down at the file and continued, “After touring most of the building, you and the senator will put on clean room attire over your clothes before being taken into the Sample Area, where most of the lunar material is stored. While in this vault, Senator Olson will be told he has an important phone call from Washington and will be escorted out. The man left with you should be our guy and will look the other way. Since the Senator will be told the call was lost, we figure you’ll have probably thirty seconds to a minute to nab the sample before they return. The sample will be in the black safe. The combination will already be dialed in, so all you have to do is turn the handle and open it. There will be a small Bolt-Top Container labeled RD that has the lunar soil. That is the one you snag. Then close the safe. It will self-lock. Because the container will be noticeable in the pocket of a pair of pants, you’ll need to wear your flight suit and slip it in one of the larger pockets.”

  Tom shrugged in accord as he repositioned himself on the wooden seat. The BTC steel containers were the primary transport device for lunar material when leaving the building for examination or testing, always under tight security. The container held an atmosphere of pure nitrogen gas that protected the material from contamination. “Got it, but you know the senator will be in a coat and tie. How am I going to explain being in a flight suit?”

  “Hey, you’re a NASA astronaut.” Dick looked out the window for a second. “But you’re probably right. It might draw suspicion. I’ll schedule you for some T-38 flight time that Tuesday.”

  Tom nodded. “That should explain it. What about the technicians in the area?”

  “That’s why this is happening in the late afternoon. It’s my understanding the laboratory will be cleared out for the senator.” Dick leaned back in his chair. “You will need to get the sample off the grounds and keep it in your possession. Do you have a secure place to store it at home?”

  “I have a private safe I can put it in.”

  “Perfect. Once you have successfully pulled this off, we will be given the specifics on how the sample will be passed on to the Soviets.” An anxious look of uncertainty filled his boss’s eyes, making Tom nervous. “Again, this is serious shit, especially with a senator there. So if anything seems out of place or is not going as planned, I want you calling it off. We can’t afford you getting caught. If you do, you will be on your own, and your career will certainly be over.”

  Tom realized the risks involved. He also knew this was his only shot at the moon. “Understood.”

  13

  THE CAPER

  Even though no music played over the car radio, Tom tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel during his early morning drive to the Manned Spacecraft Center. Later that afternoon he would be attempting to pull off one of the greatest heists in America’s history, stealing some of the most sought-after treasures in the world. He barely slept through the night, tossing and turning as he replayed the plan in his head, trying to prepare for the unexpected. If he should be caught, this could be his last time driving to work as a NASA astronaut. He did his best to push that thought from his mind.

  Spotting the sign of the local strip mall was like a slap in the face, reminding Tom he was supposed to pick up David at the tire shop and give him a ride to work. Darn it, I almost forgot! He looked down at the clock on the dash and was relieved to see it was only 7:20. Whew, it’s still early. David had requested 7:30 a.m. Tom quickly shoved the clutch peddle hard to the floor as he downshifted the ’69 Corvette. Tires screech
ed as he slowed the mighty car down before turning into the parking lot.

  As Tom drove up to the tire shop he was puzzled to see Dusty sitting in his white ‘67 Plymouth as it idled out front. David was on the other side of the sedan putting something in the backseat. As Tom pulled up, David looked over in his direction with a surprised look. I know David asked me to pick him up. Tom wondered if his friend still needed a ride. If he did, he expected David to haul out whatever he had just put in the car. But instead, his neighbor closed the door and hit the roof, signaling Dusty to move on.

  As Dusty drove away Tom pulled up next to David. His buddy eagerly opened the door and jumped in. “Hey, Tom.”

  “So what was all that about?”

  David raised both eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why was Dusty here?”

  David seemed flustered. “Oh, he saw me waiting and asked if I needed a ride. I told him you were picking me up.” He quickly changed the subject. Looking at Tom’s flight suit, he asked, “Are you flying today?”

  “Yeah, Dick scheduled me for some training.”

  “What for?”

  “Don’t know, but it’s fine with me. It gets me out of the office for awhile.”

  David asked anxiously, “Can you still get me back here after work?”

  “Sure. I’ll be returning to the office later in the afternoon to escort a senator around.”

  “Good, because you’re my excuse for leaving early. I promised Joan I’d finally attend one of Ashley’s piano recitals. Besides, the tire shop closes at 5:30.”

  Though the timing was perfect for Tom to get out of the office soon after snagging the lunar sample, he still wondered why his friend was so adamant about the ride. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Both men rode out the remainder of the drive in silence. As Tom pulled into the MSC parking lot, David spoke up. “I decided to cool it on messing around on Joan. You were right. I would hate to lose what I have.”

  Tom was happy to hear his friend was going to change his ways, but it wouldn’t be easy. He knew of other astronauts who tried to stop cheating only to eventually fall back into their old ways. It seemed once that line had been crossed, it was that much tougher to resist the ever-present temptation of overly-friendly women. Tom thought back to Connie, glad he had resisted that temptation. He vowed he would never put himself in any future compromising situation, and he hoped his friend could sustain his resolve. “I think that’s a good call.”

  THE MUGGY AUGUST weather was sucking the air out of Tom as he and Senator Olson approached the MSC-issued sedan. The late-afternoon sun that reflected off the car’s bright white exterior slashed at Tom’s eyes, making it difficult to make out the NASA emblems plastered on the front doors. Tom decided it was best to drive to the LRL building instead of walking the half mile trek in the draining sun. Entering the car was like stepping into an open blast furnace. As gobs of sweat developed in his flight suit, Tom looked desperately for relief and immediately rolled down his window. Unfortunately, the weak air conditioner wasn’t going to provide any immediate respite over the short jaunt. Instead of dealing with the blistering hot air that would initially be spitting out of the vents, Tom elected not to even bother turning on the AC.

  After he started the car, Tom observed perspiration dripping down the senator’s forehead from his swept-back, greasy black hair down past his thick, black-rimmed eyeglasses. Tom felt he needed to apologize for the Texas attack. “Sorry that this car feels like a wet sauna. I figured walking would be even worse.”

  The man removed his glasses and casually took a handkerchief from the pocket of his tailored suit. He wiped his face thoroughly. Without looking towards Tom, the senator said dismissively as if he was talking to some lower class functionary, “This is the weather I expected. I’ll be fine.”

  Tom had done his best to give an entertaining tour of the grounds, but his heart hadn’t been in it. His mind had been racing over what he was about to do in Building 37, their next stop. An edge of anxiety crept into his voice as he informed the senator, “Our final stop is the Lunar Receiving Laboratory where the Apollo 11 astronauts were quarantined and all the lunar rocks are stored. You are about to be one of only a handful of people to actually see moon rocks up close.” And I can’t believe I’m about to steal some.

  The senator was direct and harsh as his condescending voice cut through the musty air. “I’m very familiar with the building, and I don’t care about seeing rocks. What I do care about is seeing how your agency is protecting the world from the possible threat of a deadly organism being brought back from the moon. I expect to get a firsthand look at how those rocks are being handled, as well as ensuring their safeguard.”

  Tom was done trying to be nice to the annoying and pompous senator. Besides, he had more pressing issues on his mind. Knowing the senator was going to be scrutinizing every aspect of the lunar material’s security meant the person not in on the plan would be keeping a close eye on the overall operation of the building, including the group being escorted. Since the senator wasn’t star-struck by the veteran spacewalker, Tom wouldn’t be cut any slack if caught. In fact, the senator would probably consider the foiled crime as another notch on his belt of protecting America’s interests.

  After the short, quiet drive to the unassuming, university-like concrete building, Tom threw the car into park and sat staring at the front door. He cringed at the thought of possibly walking out of the structure in handcuffs, his career over. Everything he had worked so hard for over the last five years was riding on what would happen during the next thirty minutes, and it scared the hell out of him. What are you doing, Tom? You’re not some secret agent man. He drew in a calming breath and bowed his head. He then forcibly hit the steering wheel with his balled-up fist. You can do this, Tom.

  “Is this the building?”

  Breaking out of his trance, Tom wondered how long they had been sitting in the idling car. He turned off the motor. He noticed it was four o’clock. “It is. Let’s get on inside where there’s air conditioning.”

  Neither man bothered rolling up his window. The unbearable heat appeared to be taking its toll on the senator, who got out of the car lethargically, gradually working his way to the main entrance. A gush of welcoming, cool air greeted them when Tom opened the glass door. He stepped aside, allowing the senator to enter the freshly painted lobby first. Tom followed and directed them toward the receptionist. Their steps echoing off the linoleum floor got the attention of three men huddled together in white lab coats. The men looked over. Right away Tom recognized the weathered face of Gerald White, who oversaw the operation and security of the building.

  Gerald’s eyes widened. He instantly parted from the other men and marched directly toward Tom and the senator.

  Tom halted in his tracks, surprised the head of the building’s security was there. Is Gerald one of our escorts?

  “Hey, Tom.” Gerald looked toward the senator as he extended his hand and said in his gruff voice, “You must be Senator Olson. Welcome to the LRL building. I’m the Chief Operations Manager, Gerald White.”

  As the senator shook Gerald’s hand and introduced himself, Tom eyed with trepidation the other two men walking over. There was only supposed to be two men showing them around, not three. I sure hope one of these guys is just visiting with the others.

  The white haired man with wiry glasses extended his hand toward Tom. “Hello, Tom, I am Dr. Lloyd Brooks, the Director of Medical Research and Operations.”

  Tom grasped the hand. Lloyd was the MSC administrator in charge of the containment program. As Lloyd moved aside to introduce himself to the senator, the third man with a full face stepped up. Tom shook his hand.

  “Hi, Tom, I’m Walter Coleman. I’m on the Biological Advisory Committee. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The BAC was responsible for making sure the containment program was adequately designed. “Nice to meet
you, too.” Tom shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. “Are all three of you escorting us through the building?”

  Dr. Brooks answered as Walter turned to shake the senator’s hand. “We are. We wanted to ensure the senator’s questions were answered by the right people and that he was given a top-notch tour.”

  Tom’s stomach muscles tightened as he cracked a half smile. “Oh, great.” What was he going to do now, especially considering all three men were upper management?

  From the introductions, Tom was unable to tell who was in on the plan, and whoever it was must have known Tom was confused by the number of them. He had to determine who his co-conspirator was and verify if he should still proceed with the theft.

  After signing in and being provided lab coats and badges, Tom and the senator were given a detailed walkthrough of the crew quarters and operations area. Tom was too focused on trying to pick out his collaborator to hear anything being said. With his hands deep in his lab coat pockets, he fidgeted with the loose threads inside as he walked behind the group, studying the body language of each NASA man. After twenty minutes, Tom still had no idea who his accomplice was. His gut told him it was Gerald, but that was purely a guess. Since the manager had been leading the tour, Tom had been unable to get any kind of a signal from the man. With their final stop coming up, Tom was starting to get cold feet.

  Once they had put on clean room gloves and caps, they climbed the last stairwell to the vault. Tom felt a sudden chill as they entered the short, empty hallway that dead-ended at the entrance to the sample area. Tom froze for a second as he stared down the well-lit corridor at the gleaming door that led into the inner sanctum of the building, the home of the moon rocks. It was coming down to the moment of truth. He took in a tense, sharp breath before catching up with the men, whose voices bounced off the walls, mixing with the sounds of their footsteps.