Space Hoax

23 CONFRONTATION

Seeing an ambulance pull out of EarthOrbit’s parking lot alarmed Peter as he drove up. He quickly parked and hustled through the lot. He bounded up the eight stairs leading to the company’s entrance with two long strides. He powered through the lobby glass doors and walked straight toward the receptionist desk. As he approached, the young lady had an uncharacteristically solemn look. She seemed to be in a deep trance.

Peter’s voice cut through the lingering tension. “Hi, Sherry, is everything all right? I just saw an ambulance leaving the parking lot.”

The receptionist blinked before looking up, sadness in her eyes. “I can’t believe what just happened.”

Peter put both hands on the desk as he leaned in. “What happened?”

“Our shop manager, Carl Stewart, just died.”

Peter’s heart sank as he instinctively balled both hands into tight fists. “What? How did that happen?”

She looked toward the entrance. “It sounds like he had a heart attack or something. He was found dead in his office.” She looked Peter squarely in the eyes. “I can’t believe it. I just talked to him this morning about his daughter playing volleyball.”

Peter was stunned and convinced this was no accident. Right away, he was stricken with guilt, wondering if his friend died because he threw out his name to Walter. His blood started to boil as he blamed Chris. He wanted to confront the old man immediately, but first he had to get that altered PDD out of Carl’s office. It was now obvious the shop manager was onto something, and Peter couldn’t let the evidence get into the wrong hands.

Without saying a word, he charged down the hallway to the shop floor. With every step Peter’s anger grew at the thought of the ex-NASA man having one of their own killed

As Peter approached Carl’s office, he saw all the window blinds closed. He asked one of the shop employees working close by, “Hey, any idea why Carl’s blinds are closed?”

The worker looked uneasy. “Did you hear what happened?”

“I did. It’s terrible news.”

The worker shook his head. “It’s a total shock to all of us. He seemed so healthy.” He leaned back against a milling machine as he pointed to the office. “Carl had his blinds closed off and on over the last few days. When I came in this morning, they were closed and his door was locked. I think he was working on something.”

Carl must have been inspecting the PDDs in his office. “Thanks.” He walked up to the closed door and slowly opened it. The room was dark, lit only by a few streaks of light passing through the blinds. He found the light switch. After his eyes adjusted, the office appeared to be in order, no signs of any struggle. He closed the door behind him before crossing to Carl’s chair. He ran his hand across the seatback where the man sat just moments earlier. He looked to the ceiling. Carl, I promise we’ll find out who did this and they’ll pay. Your findings will not go to waste.

He walked over to the workbench, which had tools scattered about. Carl had been working on something. Peter turned to the only two cabinets in the office. After a quick glance through each, he found no sign of the PDD. Frustrated, he did a more thorough search and still came up empty. Peter’s fear was confirmed; whoever killed Carl took the PDD and probably was working for China. He was now certain there was a bomb on the Iris spacecraft and Chris was involved. He was also convinced Carl’s death was somehow tied into Chris leaving the spaceport early. He had to confront the man.

PETER STORMED INTO the control room, set on dealing with Chris. He glanced at an overhead monitor to see the mission was going as planned. He tried to keep his emotions in check as he went directly to the old man’s console. He gave Chris a solid pat on the back.

A surprised look emerged on Chris’s face. “Hey, Peter, I didn’t expect you so soon. What’s up?”

Peter lowered his voice to a whisper. “I need to speak with you now, in private.”

Chris cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. “Can it wait?”

Peter stood his ground. “No!”

Chris shot him an annoyed look before taking off his headset and speaking in a condescending tone. “Okay, let’s go to my office.” He turned to the mission director. “Jerry, I’ll be right back.”

Peter followed Chris closely out of mission control down the long, empty corridor. The awkward silence seemed to get the best of Chris as he tried to make small talk. “Looks like the mission is going well. Your men are doing a great job.”

Peter snapped, “Yes, they are.”

Chris glanced over his shoulder with his left eyebrow cocked. Peter stared straight ahead. As they walked up the stairwell the only sound was the pounding of their footsteps. When Chris reached the top step, he asked, “Did you hear about the poor guy in the shop? He apparently died of a heart attack.”

Peter took a deep breath as he balled a hand into a tight fist. He kept quiet, knowing he could lose control if he responded. Chris looked back. Peter’s emotions were starting to get the best of him. He did everything in his power to suppress his anger, but it still oozed from every pore of his body. Chris appeared puzzled, which made Peter even hotter. Neither said another word as they trudged down the short distance to his office, Chris slumping as if he was walking the plank.

After entering the office, Peter immediately shut the door and locked it.

Chris turned with a baffled look. “What are you doing?”

Peter could no longer contain his anger. With Carl dead and his friends’ lives in jeopardy, the fury that raged within was begging to be released on this pathetic man. After years of restraint, Peter was ready to unleash the deserving wrath on the man he felt played a part in his father’s death.

He accepted the fact he was about to blow his cover.

With his adrenaline at an all-time high, he cocked back his fist and in a flash unleashed a powerful punch that connected right on the helpless man’s jaw. The forceful impact knocked Chris off his feet before his body crashed hard to the floor. A feeling of joy overtook Peter as he watched the shocked man grab his jaw and look up with fear in his eyes. Peter leaned down and pulled the feeble man up to his feet by the collar, before slamming him hard against the wall. “Why did you have Carl killed?”

A slight dribble of blood trickled down Chris’s chin as he gasped, straining to breathe. “What the hell are you talking about? Who’s Carl?”

Peter narrowed his eyes as he pushed Chris harder against the wall. “You know who Carl is.”

Chris grabbed Peter’s arms trying to loosen his grip, but was having no luck. “Are you talking about the guy who died? I don’t even know the man.”

Peter was getting irritated. “Why do you have secret bank accounts?”

Chris’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Peter wanted answers and punched the asshole again before banging him back against the wall. Chris’s aging body couldn’t take much of this punishment. “I’m enjoying this too much so you better answer my God-damned questions.”

With a pleading expression, Chris cried out, “What the hell has come over you? So I have some secret bank accounts, so what? What’s it to you?”

Peter stayed composed as he continued with his questioning. “Why do you have them?”

The pitiful man winced and shrank back, his gaze falling to the floor. “Because I have a gambling problem. The accounts are so my wife doesn’t find out. I already lost my first family because of the addiction.”

Chris was sounding convincing, but any undercover spy would have a good alibi. “What’s with the big dollar settlements? How have you been coming up with that money?”

Chris’s body went limp as if he was giving up the fight. He looked up. “How do you know all of this?”

Peter stayed forceful as he clinched his jaw. “Tell me.”

Chris’s eyes dipped in shame. “Selling my space memorabilia. It’s embarrassing, but I’ve had to sell much of it to pay off my debts. I even had to sell some of your dad’s stuff flown to the moon that he gave to me as gifts.”

Peter was getting frustrated as every question was being answered soundly and without hesitation. It was time to trip the asshole up. He figured if a bomb was onboard Iris, the most obvious place to explode it would be when visiting the International Space Station. Whoever suggested moving Blake’s spacewalk at the last minute was probably behind the conspiracy, knowing the rendezvous wouldn’t happen if the risky EVA failed. “Why did you move Blake’s EVA to after visiting the ISS?”

Chris’s demeanor became combative as he shot Peter a surprised look. “What are you talking about? I didn’t move the EVA. That was Walter’s call. All I suggested was cancelling the second EVA because I didn’t think it was smart doing back-to-back spacewalks.”

Peter was stunned. He let go of Chris as he took a step back. Walter? He tried to remember his conversation with the president. He couldn’t remember exactly how it was worded and wondered if he just assumed it was Chris that had the EVA moved.

“I can show you the email from Walter asking for the change.”

Peter pointed to the desk. “Show me!”

Chris brought his arm up, wiping the blood off his lip with his shirt as he slowly turned toward his desk. The man wasn’t walking fast enough for Peter, so he gave him a solid push from behind. Chris turned with an evil glare as he kept moving. When he reached his chair, Peter shoved him into it.

Chris lifted his hand. “Okay, relax.”

Soon the email was up on the screen. Peter positioned himself so he could clearly see the computer screen. The email looked legit. Peter was stumped. He didn’t know what to believe. He grabbed Chris, forcing him up on his feet as he looked him directly in his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this or I’ll kill you.”

Peter let the man fall back into his chair before turning to leave the office. As he hustled across the floor, Chris called out, “I assume you’re working for SID. But I don’t care, you’re still fired!”

Without breaking his stride or turning, Peter raised his hand and jutted up his middle finger.

Once in the hallway, Peter put both his hands through his hair. He was mystified. Either Chris had given one hell of a performance, or he was telling the truth. But how could Walter possibly be behind all of this? Why would he? Was he working for China? It just didn’t make sense.

Not knowing who he could trust and no longer part of the team, he needed to call Gavin right away and come up with a plan on how to save his friends.

He scurried to his own office and locked the door. It was only a matter of time before security would come knocking to escort him out of the building. He quickly called up Gavin. He wiped the bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face as he leaned back in his chair, taking in a deep breath.

The SID director answered. “Hello.”

Peter let out the breath as he lurched his upper body forward. “Hey, Gavin, it’s Peter.”

His boss’s grating voice joked through the phone. “Hey, I guess you’re not on that rocket. I heard the launch went off without a hitch.”

Peter replied in a no-nonsense tone. “It did, but we have a major problem.”

Gavin’s voice turned serious. “What’s that?”

Peter swallowed hard, knowing the words would shock the SID director. “I believe there’s a bomb on that spacecraft.”

“What? Is this related to the picture you sent us?”

Peter wiped away another bead of sweat. “Yes, the bomb is in the parachute deployment device.”

The director’s voice was strong as he spoke with crisp precision. “I just got some early input on that picture. The device looks to be consistent with an advanced new bomb recently developed by China, typically having the same Chinese markings. Even though it’s small, it’s one powerful son-of-a-bitch. We weren’t able to determine the size from the picture, but these bombs can have the power of up to a half a ton of TNT. However, our experts aren’t sure what to expect when one of those babies goes off in space.”

Peter craned his head back. “Wow. I’m convinced China is behind all of this. I’m sure their goal is to detonate that bomb when our men rendezvous with the space station.”

Gavin’s tone rose. “What? They plan on destroying the space station?”

Peter’s voice stayed steady. “Not sure what kind of damage can occur since we’re not docking with the ISS.”

Gavin sounded intense as his voice sharpened. “Doesn’t matter. If they plan on exploding any bomb within its vicinity, no telling what damage it can do. We can’t let this happen. Besides, if China is behind this, I bet they have a plan on how to get the maximum impact from such a blast. This needs to be stopped. Who’s behind all of this at EarthOrbit?”

Peter leaned forward, propping an elbow on the desk, extending his hand as if Gavin was on the other side of the desk. “I’m not positive. However, I think whoever it is had the man who discovered the bomb killed.”

“How did he die?”

“Supposedly from a heart attack, but I’m confident he was murdered.”

Without hesitation, Gavin asked. “What’s his name?”

“Carl Stewart, he was our shop manager.”

The director’s tone unexpectedly dropped, again composed. “Okay, I’ll have some agents investigate. Any chance the astronauts are involved in any of this?”

Peter vigorously shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Then we need to storm EarthOrbit’s facility and take over operation of that spacecraft.”

Peter shot to his feet. “No, if that happens there is a good chance they’ll set off the bomb, killing the astronauts.”

“Peter, I’m sorry, but we cannot risk losing the International Space Station and its crew.”

Though Peter agreed, he remembered his promise to Suzy. He couldn’t just let those men die. It was his responsibility to make sure they returned safely. He slowly started to pace around his desk. There must be some way of saving those men. His analytical mind started to race as he leaned back on his desk. His eye caught the white marker board hanging in his office with handwritten dates associated with the mission. He focused in on the circled date, which was the drop-dead date they needed to launch by, 9/29. A sudden realization popped into his head. The reason that date was selected was so EarthOrbit could beat SpaceQuest’s launch of their last test rocket. Surely that rocket was already on the pad. Maybe he could convince Allen to give him a ride. If SpaceQuest got him up quick enough, he could certainly figure out how to rescue the men.

Peter jumped back to his feet. “Gavin, give me a couple hours before you do anything. I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

Peter let out a sigh and spoke guardedly. “I need to make a phone call first. I’ll get back to you shortly.” Peter hung up and immediately started dialing Allen Ferguson’s number as he circled back to his chair.

After a quick hello, the CEO of SpaceQuest joked, “Peter, aren’t you with the enemy now?”

Peter settled further into his seat. He needed to be up front with Allen and explain why he was working for the competition. Since Allen supported both NASA and SID in providing a rocket for the moon mission, he fully expected the man to back this operation once he knew the facts. “I am, but I am here on assignment for SID.”

“Oh, you’re still working for the government? Then I guess I shouldn’t take it personally that you went over to the dark side. I was a little hurt when I heard you started working for EarthOrbit, especially since I never heard back from you after returning from space in Galileo.”

Peter did feel bad not circling back to congratulate Allen on the success of his equipment. Both the Newton rocket and the Galileo capsule had done a fabulous job on both missions. But things had been happening too quickly. “I’m sorry about that, Allen. I’ve been put on one assignment after another. In fact my fiancée is pissed I haven’t spent much time with her.”

“Wow, so you and Anya are engaged?”

“We are.”

“Well, congratulations. So what’s this assignment you’re on?”

Peter lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What I’m about to tell you is top secret, so it must not leave this conversation.”

Allen answered in an amused tone, “Peter, I’ve been through this before; I think you can trust me.”

Peter had to say that, but he fully trusted the CEO. “We think there’s a bomb aboard the Iris spacecraft.”

Allen’s response was as Peter expected. “A bomb? How did that get on their ship?”

“That’s a long story, but China looks to be involved. We believe their plan is to explode the bomb by the International Space Station.”

“Holy shit!” There was a moment of silence as Allen processed the information. “If they seriously damage or destroy that station, the whole space industry will shut down. There will be no place to shuttle cargo or astronauts. There will be no contract. That would kill my company. What do you need from me?”

“I’d like to hitch a ride on your test rocket.”

A shocked tone came out of the receiver. “What, are you serious?”

“It’s our only option.”

“You know I have dummies on there, right?”

“I’d just be another one.”

Allen’s voice relaxed slightly. “Funny. So what’s your plan?”

Peter scratched his head. “I really don’t have one yet, other than using your rocket to get me into space. I’d just be a passenger until taking control once you had me close to Iris. I suggest you have your team flying the rocket as you would for the test. You can explain to the media since EarthOrbit was trying to upstage your mission, you decided to return the favor by flying circles around them.”

“I like that. Well, I am only considering this since you have already proved yourself flying a Galileo spacecraft.”

Peter stayed quiet while Allen stewed on the idea.

Allen sounded almost angry, “I cannot afford anything happening to the space station. That’s our mother goose. So I’m game. If this is going to happen, you obviously need to get in space as soon as possible. The Newton rocket is ready, she’s currently sitting on the pad. We’ve just been waiting until September 29^th per NASA’s request. So we can probably have you launched within twenty-four hours.”

“Perfect.”

“By the way, we still have the Skylab suit. Will you need it?”

Peter hadn’t gotten that far in his thinking about the operation. But he needed some kind of spacesuit to rescue the men, and the Skylab suit worked perfectly on the last mission. “Absolutely, I’m glad you still have it.”

“I’ll have our suit techs get it ready. So how soon can you get to the Cape?”

Peter pushed his chair back as he crossed his legs. “Not sure. I’ll catch the first flight out of Bush Intercontinental.”

Peter sensed Allen getting excited and taking control. “That could take forever to get you out here, especially having to fly into Orlando. That’s too much wasted time. Tell you what, I have an oil tycoon buddy who owes me a favor. He has a Learjet at Hobby. You hustle over there and I’ll make sure it’s full of fuel and on the tarmac ready to go. I’ll also set up clearance so you can fly directly into the Cape.”

“I owe you, Allen.”

“Yes, you do. However, America and I owe you for proving China wrong. The fact you were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to make that happen is tough to pay back. So let’s just say this will make us even.”

“Thanks, Allen, I appreciate this. See you soon.”

Peter quickly gathered his belongings as he started thinking the mission through. There was only one oxygen pack on Iris, and two were needed to get both men over to Galileo. Since the flight plan had Blake using the ship’s umbilical cord, he would need his own portable oxygen unit along with a special adapter so he could plug it into his suit. Peter’s only option was to sneak out the backup oxygen unit and adapter before leaving. Since he was no longer welcomed in the building, he would have to go into spy mode and steal them.

AFTER CLIMBING UP the emergency stairwell stairs to the second floor doorway, Peter stopped to turn an ear in the direction he had just hiked. He listened for anyone following. All seemed clear. He had been sneaking through the complex trying to reach the storage vault where all the spacesuits and equipment were stored, including the oxygen packs. So far he had been able to avoid the security guards, knowing Chris had probably alerted them. He was sure the asshole wanted him out of the building immediately, if not arrested for assault.

Peter slowly opened the door and entered a small windowless waiting room in the three-story building. Beyond the elevator door next to the stairwell, two closed doors stood on opposite sides of the waiting area. The storage vault was through the left door. As he passed the elevator, he confirmed no one was on the way up.

Hoping his access card still worked, Peter slid it across the door’s sensor pad. He exhaled a big sigh at an unlocking sound. As he entered the small, empty hallway, he noticed two doors in the corridor, neither with any markings. This was only his second time on the floor, but he was pretty sure the first one was the entrance to the storage vault.

His high-level clearance allowed him access to most of the facility, including the vault. His card unlocked the door. He calmly entered and saw a clerk sitting at a desk in front of a caged-in storage area; he’d guessed correctly. The clerk looked up from a wooden desk that had only a phone and a clipboard on it. Peter plastered a big grin on his face as he quickly scanned the clerk’s ID card hanging around his neck.

“Hello, Sean, how ya doing, buddy?”

The clerk tilted his head. “Hello, can I help you?”

Peter hoped the young man wasn’t aware security was searching for him. “I’m Peter Novak, the Manager for Astronaut Safety and Mission Assurance.” He extended his hand and put his belief into the white lie. “We met the last time I was here.”

Narrowing his eyes, Sean hesitantly grabbed Peter’s hand. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”

Shaking the man’s hand, Peter took a chance. “We talked about the Houston Astros and their dismal season.”

Sean’s shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “Oh, yeah. Boy, they are sucking, aren’t they? I say it’s because of their pitching rotation.”

Peter relaxed into his ruse. “Exactly, they better figure that out next season if they want to make the playoffs.”

Sean nodded. “So what can I do for you?”

“I need one of the oxygen packs.”

Sean picked up his clipboard and studied it. “I don’t see anything on here giving the okay for that.”

Only Chris and Walter had the authority to discharge equipment. “It’s kind of an emergency. We might have a problem with the spacewalk coming up and we need the unit for a simulation.”

Sean started to pick up the phone. “I need to get Chris Riddick’s approval first.”

Staying calm, Peter figured there was a 50-50 chance Chris was at his desk. “He’s not there; he’s in the control room observing the mission. You can call him there, but there’s a minor crisis going on and it’s pretty hectic down there.”

After studying Peter for a second, Sean set the phone back down. “No problem, follow me.”

Peter smiled, having overcome the hurdle. The clerk punched in a few numbers on the gate’s keypad. As he opened it, he pointed to a cabinet. “The oxygen packs are over there.”

“Got it, thanks.” Peter walked over and swung open the cabinet, quickly pulling out a unit with an umbilical cord strapped to its side. He studied it for a second to verify it was okay. Once satisfied, he grabbed the pack by its handle. “I also need the adapter for our spacesuits, do you know where that is?”

“Yeah.”

As the clerk walked toward a locker drawer, the phone on his desk rang. He stopped as if he was going to go answer it. Concerned the call could be security, Peter motioned in the direction Sean was headed. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

Sean nodded as he hustled to the drawer, unlocking it before turning to leave. “Take what you need.”

Peter called out as the man rushed back to his desk. “I just need one.”

Peter promptly located the correct adapter. As the clerk answered the call, Peter swiftly passed by while raising both the adapter and oxygen pack to show this was all he was taking. Sean signaled he understood. As Peter exited he overheard, “Yeah, Peter Novak is here.”

With his location known, Peter had to hightail it out of there. He shoved the adapter in his pocket and raced back to the waiting room, carrying the oxygen pack safely by his side. He noticed the elevator was on its way up before he entered the staircase. The sudden sound of a 2-way radio echoed from below. “Peter Novak is on the second floor of Building 3.”

Footsteps rushed up the stairs in an insistent cadence. Shit. His only choice was the third floor. He vaulted up the stairs two at a time as quietly as he could. He halted at the door. The footsteps were now mixed in with men’s voices, which he couldn’t decipher.

He leaped into the third floor waiting room, which was empty and similar to the one below, except there was only a single door. Peter had no idea what was on this level. He flashed his key card across the door pad, but nothing happened. He tried it few more times, still nothing. Damn it, they must have deauthorized it. He studied the lock for a moment to see if he could bypass it, but without the proper tools, he was out of luck. He turned to see the elevator had stopped on the second floor. He was stuck. His only choice was the roof.

Reentering the stairwell, Peter was startled by a security guard on the lower landing. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Mr. Novak?”

Without acknowledging, Peter sprinted up the final flight of stairs, crashing through the rooftop exit. He swiftly scanned the area. His options looked bleak. As he darted across the roof he heard the exit door swing open behind him.

“Stop, Mr. Novak.”

Without looking back, Peter reached the building’s edge. He spotted two trash bins thirty feet below. One was full of metal shavings, the other paperwork. He looked back to see two guards fast approaching. He had no choice, he had to jump. He quickly positioned himself over the bin full of paper. He took one last look back at the guards who were now running.

“Don’t jump!”

With the oxygen pack by his side, he centered himself perfectly over the bin. He wished himself luck as he leaped, falling in a seated position. Please, no surprises in that bin. The landing was soft, similar to when he used to jump off his bunk bed into beanbag chairs. He struggled to climb through the paperwork and cardboard boxes. He took a swift scan of the oxygen pack, which looked fine. He looked up to see shocked looks on the guards’ faces. It was obvious they weren’t going to jump. As he climbed out, he noticed a big, blue ink spot spreading on his shirt. Damn!

Peter gave a short wave to the guards as he hopped to the asphalt and sprinted to his car, happy to be carrying Blake’s future lifeline.